by Lori Foster
She thought she should move, but she didn’t. She swallowed, then stated the obvious. “I never had good reason before.”
“Ah.” He turned to look outside, his hands propped on his lean hips, the wine bottle still held securely. “I assume we’re talking about the…incident?”
Sara swallowed. It had been a fiasco and the most humiliating moment of her life. It wouldn’t have been quite so horrendous, catching Ted with Karen, if she’d handled the situation with a modicum of grace, a little poise. But no. She’d had to go and do her impression of a berserk gardener, grabbing the closest weapon, which happened to be a plastic rake, and chasing a near-naked woman up the middle of the street!
Catching her bottom lip in her teeth, she groaned. The memory was not a humorous one for her, and now here she was, cowering behind a door, making a total fool of herself once again. She would have straightened her shoulders if it wouldn’t have caused her towel to slip. “Just why are you here, Gavin?”
He stared at her, or more precisely her mouth, watching as her teeth worried her bottom lip. He was so tall—over six feet, making her five foot five seem very diminutive. And his wet T-shirt had turned transparent, clinging to his wide shoulders, taunting her with what it both hid and revealed. She could see the dark hair on his chest, appearing so very soft in stark contrast to his hard body.
She knew she didn’t want to see what the rain had done to his cutoffs. She felt flustered enough as it was.
His tone was gentle, insistent. “It’s been six weeks, Sara. I figured that was plenty of time for you to get over whatever ails you and get friendly again. You’ve been snubbing me ever since that day.”
Her brow puckered at the misunderstanding. “I wasn’t snubbing you. I…I wasn’t at all sure, after the damage I did, if you’d want to talk to me again.” That was a partial truth, because she’d sent him a note of apology and asked for the amount of the damages. She’d found the note stuck inside her screen door, with the message, Paid In Full, scrawled across it. It was sheer embarrassment that kept her away now.
He sighed, then shook his head. “Why don’t we sit down and talk? I’m going to set you straight on a few things.”
Without waiting for her agreement, he kicked off his wet tennis shoes and headed for her kitchen, giving her the perfect opportunity to make a fast break for the bedroom. She did, back-stepping the whole way just in case he turned. And with every foot that separated them, she pondered the possibilities of why he was here. A tiny flare of excitement stirred, but she ruthlessly snuffed it out. Gavin wasn’t for her, and he never would be.
CHAPTER 2
WHEN SARA ENTERED the kitchen a few minutes later, wearing a loose sundress that fell to her knees, she found Gavin leaning against the counter. He gave her a slow, thorough once-over, his gaze intent, his mouth tipped in a slight smile. Then he plucked at his wet T-shirt, pulling it away from his body. His voice was pitched low and deep when he spoke. “The storm took me by surprise. Do you mind if I take this off so I can get comfortable, too?”
Her mouth went dry. She tamped down the natural inclination to lick her lips, and shook her head instead. Heaven only knew what she might do if presented with such temptation. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. There’s not much for us to talk about.”
“Of course there is.” He peeled off the shirt with no thought for modesty or her overly rapt attention. She stared, anxious to catch every riveting detail of exposed male flesh.
She laced her fingers tightly together and held herself still as he shook out his shirt and laid it over the back of a chair to dry. Facing her, he adopted a no-nonsense expression, a stern warning that she was to pay close attention.
The man was half-naked—he had her attention.
“I didn’t care about the lamp, Sara. Or the picture.” There was a pause, then he added, “I didn’t even care about—”
Wincing, she cut him short. “I didn’t realize I’d broken more than the lamp and the picture.”
“You didn’t.” He sprawled into the chair, stretching out his long bare legs. He was muscled everywhere, the physical labors of his job keeping him in excellent shape.
She remained standing, too nervous to relax. It was a mixed reaction from the electric charge of the storm, sheer exhaustion, and Gavin’s presence. The man had always affected her in one way or another, but since the incident, she’d done her best to repress her more emotional feelings.
Now they were swamping back in force.
Gavin cleared his throat, waiting until she met his gaze before continuing. “I was going to say I didn’t mind that you’d chased after Karen.”
She sucked in a breath, her shoulders going rigid. “Well, I should hope not! She was…was…” Sara searched for a more delicate word than those coming to mind. There weren’t many. She finally settled on, “Unfaithful.”
He smirked, one brow raised. “She was that. But then, unlike you, I wasn’t engaged. In fact, if you’ll remember correctly, Karen and I had broken up months before. She wasn’t here because of me, Sara, she was only here to visit Ted.”
Sara made a grimace, knowing what he said was true. She certainly couldn’t blame him for Karen’s presence, not that she would have anyway. Blame had nothing to do with her avoidance of him. Humiliation did. “Karen and Ted were the only ones responsible. I know that.”
He nodded. “Good. Then there’s no reason why we can’t remain…friends. Is there?”
Put like that, what choice did he give her? “No. I guess not.”
“By the way, whatever happened to lover-boy? I assume you sent him on his way?”
With a sound of disgust, she shook her head. “I didn’t have to. When I got back Ted was already more or less dressed and anxious to go. I found him peeking out the door, watching for you I suppose. He crawled out to his car, then slithered inside. He left skid marks in my driveway he was in such a hurry to escape. I think he was afraid you’d come after him.”
“More likely he was afraid of you.” Gavin slanted her a look, his smile once again in place, though this time it looked more tender than humorous. “You swing a mean rake, lady.”
Another wave of heat inched along the back of her neck, but she refused to look away from his probing gaze.
“Besides,” he continued, “I wasn’t angry at Ted. I’d long since given up my claim on Karen, and in a way, he did me a favor. If he’d hung around, I might have even thanked him.”
Sara stared. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope.” With no sign of amusement now, he leaned forward in his seat and reached for her hand. “Ted hung himself. He made certain you’d never be able to forgive him, to take him back. I wanted him gone, Sara, because I knew he wasn’t right for you. He’d never have been able to make you happy.”
She had to agree with him there. Ted was not the man she wanted to be tied to for life, and in a way, she almost felt grateful, too, because his lack of morals had freed her before it was too late.
Feeling hesitant and uncertain, she asked, “It didn’t bother you—not even a little—that he’d been having an affair with Karen?”
“It made me mad as hell that they hurt you. But for myself? No. Karen is free to do as she pleases, not that she ever felt any restrictions to begin with.”
He hadn’t loved Karen. Sara was both relieved, and depressed. If tall, beautiful, outgoing Karen hadn’t been able to gain his affections, a woman like herself wouldn’t stand a chance.
But then, she’d always known that.
She pulled her hand away and tried to fill the silence. “I applaud your control. I’m afraid I was a little more sensitive about the whole thing.”
“I know.” He gave her a teasing look. “I remember.”
Dropping into her own chair, Sara propped her elbows on the table and covered her face with her hands. It all seemed so ridiculous now, but at the time…“I still can’t believe I barged through your house, swinging a rake and raving like a lunatic.
It was so unlike me. I’ve never before indulged in such a fit, no matter what the provocation.”
She heard a low choked sound, and peeked from between her fingers to see Gavin trying to contain his humor. “What?”
He shrugged, then mumbled around his chuckles, “I was just thinking of the strain you must have been under, keeping all that explosive emotion bottled up.”
“I’m not an emotional person.”
He sputtered, then lost the fight to keep from laughing. Dropping her hands, she scowled at him, but that only served to make him laugh all the more. At her. She felt renewed humiliation and jerked to her feet, her eyes narrowed on his face. “Go home, Gavin!”
He caught her wrist and tugged her close despite her resistance, trying to rid himself of his smile, and failing. “Ah, Sara. If you could have seen your face that day! It was damn impressive. Outrage and indignation and a good dose of evil intent…Hell, for a second there, you terrified even me. I thought about running for cover along with Karen! But with you shouting accusations and threats so horrid my ears rang, it didn’t take me long to realize what had happened, and—”
“And you were amused.”
He sobered instantly. “No.” Squeezing her fingers, he held her hand close to his side. “I was relieved. You were too good for that jerk and I was glad you realized it before you married him and ruined everything.”
Feeling perverse, partly because she didn’t understand him, and partly because he was still smiling, she said, “You hardly knew Ted.”
“Wrong. I’d spoken with him several times, though not nearly as much as you and I talked. He was a worm. Believe me, Sara, you’re better off without him.”
She scowled, thinking of Ted’s empty promises, and her empty house. Her own gullibility. She’d wanted to be wanted so badly, she’d been willing to be duped by Ted.
Now she merely felt like a fool. “He worked hard to convince me to marry him.”
Gavin tilted his head, his eyes intent. “Whatever he told you was probably lies.”
She knew that now. Ted hadn’t really cared about her at all. Big surprise. “He said we’d make the perfect couple, that love was something that came over time. We were too old to be frivolous, to wait for the kind of relationship you see in movies and read about in books. He said he was as alone and lonely as me, and he convinced me he wanted the same things. A secure home, a lasting relationship. So we approached this wedding business in a logical, no-nonsense fashion. We discussed up-front who would be responsible for various things, and what was expected of each of us. We had the future all mapped out.”
Gavin was attentive, staring at her, seemingly fascinated.
She tried to ignore his hold on her wrist, the warmth of his palm and the way his scent made her toes curl. “Ted broke nearly every promise he made. I still wonder why he wanted to marry me in the first place.”
“What promises?”
Trying to act indifferent, she shrugged. “You mean apart from the promises to be faithful and act honorably and to stick around through thick and thin?”
Gavin watched her with compassion, and she hated it. She knew she sounded like a woman scorned, but a part of her still felt betrayed, not by Ted, because he didn’t really matter, not anymore. But by her own foolish hopes for things that either didn’t exist, or else weren’t meant for her.
She sucked in a slow, calming breath. “Part of the deal was that I’d buy the house, and he’d furnish it.” She lifted her free hand to indicate her almost barren kitchen. A small, aged Formica table and two chairs sat in the middle of the floor. They were ugly and looked totally out of place in the exquisite kitchen Gavin had constructed. The rest of the house was the same, the rooms either near-empty or “furnished” with used, mismatched pieces.
“As you can see, Ted left before furnishing anything. Even the backyard is barren, and I’d really wanted a porch swing and a pet and a picnic table.” She sighed. “I’d thought this could be a real home. Instead it’s just an empty shell.”
Gavin leaned back, one dark brow raised high. “Let me get this straight. You were willing to hook up for life with a bastard like Ted just for some lawn furniture?”
Sara blinked. Put that way, it did sound rather foolish. Not that he understood it all. She had planned to be a good wife, to do whatever it took to make the marriage work. She’d wanted kids and Christmas, family budgets and a family car. She’d even wanted the struggles that came with maintaining family unity.
She’d gotten nothing but a severe dent to her pride.
She hadn’t loved Ted, but she had liked him, and she’d been willing to put every effort into making a solid marriage.
But how could she explain all that to Gavin? He was a man who never wanted for companionship, a man who had his pick of women ready to stand by his side. He would never consider accepting a woman he didn’t really want, just for something as base as companionship.
“So everything wasn’t perfect,” she allowed, “I thought we could manage. We would have grown closer with time. We could have made it work.” She took a deep breath and mumbled, “I still think the least Ted could have done was furnish a room or two before he ruined everything.”
Gavin shook his head. “You can get what you need later, without his help. Be glad you didn’t marry him. It would have been a disaster.”
He seemed so vehement. But then, that was one of the things that had drawn her to him, his self-assurance and confidence. “You don’t understand, Gavin. You’ve never had any desire to be married.”
“Why do you say that?”
Trying to refrain from making another scene, she wiggled her wrist free of his hold and sat down. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut, but now he was waiting for an explanation.
No way did she want Gavin to know just how fascinated she was with him, or the extent of her emotions. She’d suffered such enormous guilt when her feelings toward him had turned…lecherous. She’d never suffered sexual frustration in her life, but when it hit, it really hit. Like a tsunami.
It was doubly difficult because her feelings for Gavin had begun as respect and friendship. More than anyone else, more than Ted or any other man she’d known, even more than her parents, Gavin made her feel accepted and liked. She was comfortable around him. She supposed it was only natural that her fertile mind had started to meander into forbidden topics. So she’d felt guilty.
Right up until she came home and found Ted in bed with Gavin’s girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, she reminded herself. And then all hell had broken loose. Or, to be more accurate, she’d broken loose, reacting like a demented ogress.
Gavin was watching her, and she had to tell him something. Trying to pick her words carefully, she said, “Karen told me once, when I’d first moved in, that you weren’t the marrying kind. She claimed you liked a lot of—” she cleared her throat “—variety. She was bragging, because you supposedly cared enough about her to ask her to move in. She said you wanted only the best.”
Gavin didn’t react the way she expected over the invasion of privacy. He seemed intrigued, and his cocky grin spread wide over his face. “You discussed me with Karen?” At her noncommittal shrug, he propped his elbows on the table, laced his fingers together, and leaned toward her. “What else did she say to you?”
“Oh, this and that.” Actually, thanks to Karen, she knew things about Gavin she shouldn’t have known, intimate details that made it more than difficult to be around him, and twice as tough to control her imagination.
At least she didn’t have to worry about guilt anymore, since she was now free. And alone. She didn’t even miss Ted, which was almost sad since she’d once been engaged to him. But long before she’d caught him with Karen, she’d had doubts about marrying him. He didn’t have the same respect for marriage, didn’t have the same commitment that she did. To her, marriage meant a lifetime, not until the convenience wore off. Few people seemed able to suffer that small stipulation. Her parents hadn’t understood. Neither
had Ted.
So along with shedding Ted, she’d rid herself of the idea of marriage. She’d simply given up. Obviously there was something about her that made a long-term commitment impossible. She’d come to the conclusion she needed something shorter term.
Like a blazing, red-hot affair.
She glanced up at Gavin, afraid he might be able to read her mind. But no, he just looked thoughtful. She sighed. Such a gorgeous man, so proud and confident, sometimes arrogant, always fair. But Gavin was more a fantasy man, the perfect male to manifest in a dream, with the reality a million miles away.
Yet…they were both single now, and he was sitting right there in her kitchen chair, wearing nothing more than damp jean shorts and a healthy dose of male charisma, insisting they should be friends, which could possibly mean…what? Sara blinked, realizing she’d been quiet too long while contemplating short-term, sizzling, erotic plans.
His wicked grin had turned smug. “So you talked about this and that, meaning…?”
The best defense was a good offense, and she was tired of acting like a ninny. “Gavin, are you actually fishing for compliments?”
“Would you give me any?”
“No.” She grinned at his feigned hurt, feeling some of the old camaraderie return. “You certainly don’t need me to bolster your ego. You surely know how attractive you are.”
He went perfectly still, and his voice turned husky and suggestive. “You really think so?”
She pulled a wry face. “I’m not blind, Gavin. And you don’t wear humility worth a darn.”
“You never acted the least bit interested. Whenever we talked, it was about the house, or what you intended to do to the yard.” He lowered his brows over his dark brown eyes. “Or about your upcoming wedding.” He said the last in a disgusted tone, as if the very idea turned his stomach.
“I was engaged! Did you expect me to flirt with you?” Besides, she thought, even after she’d gotten rid of Ted, she knew she wasn’t in Gavin’s league, not by a long shot. Where he was tall, dark, gorgeous—basically perfect—she was basically plain. Her dark curly hair was always unruly, her eyes a medium shade of blue. There was nothing remarkable about her, other than her slightly crooked front tooth, which certainly didn’t fall under the category of sexually appealing traits. She was a very ordinary woman, and he was an extraordinary man.
