by Lori Foster
So why was he here?
Gavin came to his feet, pacing away from her, then back again. He seemed unsettled and she didn’t know what to expect. Then he stopped before her.
Crossing his arms over his bare chest and staring down at her, he said, “So we’re both available now, right?”
“Uh…”
“And you’ve already admitted you like me.”
Had she actually come right out and said that? She didn’t think so. It wasn’t likely she’d take another chance on rejection. “I’ve always liked you, Gavin. You’re a nice guy, and you’re unbelievably talented…”
“There, you see.” He nodded, apparently more than satisfied with her comments.
“But—”
“No buts.” He shocked the rest of her thoughts right out of her head when he gripped either side of her chair and leaned down until their noses almost touched. His voice emerged whisper soft, his eyes staring into hers. “I like you, too, Sara. And I want to see you.”
Completely frozen, Sara simply stared back. What he said, how he said it, seemed unbelievably seductive. She told herself not to be foolish, not to misunderstand, but she felt her stomach curl up and squeeze tight. For a moment, she thought she might swoon in excitement. Or maybe throw up in sheer nervousness. It was a definite toss-up.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingering for a long moment, but to her extreme disappointment, he moved away. “I came today to celebrate. And to convince you to stop hiding from me.”
After sucking in two huge gulps of air, she managed to speak without croaking. “Uh, celebrate what?”
“Your freedom. We can start with a toast. I’ll pour the wine.” He went to the cabinets, and before she could stop him he opened the top drawer, then the next, looking for a corkscrew.
Sara groaned, knowing what he would find, knowing she would be mortified; she resigned herself to the inevitable. She was almost getting used to it.
There was a moment of stunned silence before Gavin turned to face her, a pair of her pale bikini panties dangling from one long finger. He wore an expression of mixed chagrin and incredulous disbelief. “Do you always keep your underwear in the kitchen drawers?”
She would definitely throw up.
There wasn’t anyplace adequate for her to hide, though she did consider crawling beneath the table. Of course, he’d still be able to see her, and she’d still have to come out sometime. She didn’t think he would just go away.
She dropped her face to the table and covered her head with her arms. “I told you I don’t have much furniture.” It sounded like an accusation. “The only drawers in the house are the ones here in the kitchen.”
Her words were muffled, but she assumed by Gavin’s rough chuckles he’d understood her. When she heard him opening and closing other drawers she jumped out of her seat to stop him. He had a silk camisole in one hand, a garter belt in the other and a look of profound masculine interest on his face. The feminine garments looked very fragile and soft in his big hands. Sara snatched them away, glaring at him despite her embarrassment.
He made an obvious, rather measly effort to hide his reaction. “Damn, I’m glad I came today. I’m learning all kinds of things about you.” He reached out and stroked the garter belt with a knuckle, his tone dropping to an intimate level. “I had no idea you wore such racy lingerie.”
Her face felt so hot, her vision blurred. “Don’t you dare laugh at me again, you big—”
The sky exploded with a splintered streak of neon light and the house shook with the accompanying thunder. They both jumped, and in the next instant were left in complete darkness. Sara held her breath, stunned into silence.
Gavin reached out and felt for her, his fingers landing first on her throat, then skimming across her collarbone before curling over her shoulder. “Sara?”
“Lightning must have hit a power line.” Her voice lowered to a whisper in deference to the fury of the storm.
“Probably.”
They stood there in the dark, and Sara could hear him breathing, could feel the heat of his body as he slowly, relentlessly pulled her closer. She could smell his wonderful, delicious, toe-curling scent. Her heart knocked against her ribs and she cleared her throat. “Well. So much for drinking wine. What do we do now?”
It was a loaded question, unintentional of course. But Sara saw the amused flash of Gavin’s white teeth. “It just occurred to me,” he whispered. “If your underthings are all in here, and you changed in the bedroom, what are you wearing beneath that dress?”
She managed a horrified gasp just before he lowered his head. She knew he was going to kiss her, and she didn’t voice a single complaint.
She may have even met him halfway.
CHAPTER 3
HE WAS RUSHING IT.
Gavin knew he should pull back, give her time to adjust to his intentions, but he couldn’t quite get his body to agree with his mind. She was so soft, so sweet against him. And it seemed as if he’d wanted her forever. Hell, it had been forever. A lifetime, in fact.
She was breathing in quick, gasping pants. Touching her mouth with his own, he stifled the small, arousing sounds and gently kissed her. It took all his control to keep the contact light. The feel of her full breasts pressed to his chest tested his resolve.
So many times in the past he’d brushed against her, or shaken her hand, or patted her shoulder. Casual touches that left him wanting so much more. He’d teased himself by visiting with her so often, especially whenever she spoke about Ted. Even if the man hadn’t turned out to be a jerk, Gavin would have hated him because he had Sara.
He smiled to himself, thinking what a challenge she was, how complex and complicated her personality could be. She’d surprised him more times than he could count.
When she suddenly opened her mouth on his, then grabbed his ears in both hands and kissed him with an intensity he hadn’t expected, he wasn’t only surprised, he was stunned. And thrilled.
He slid his arms around her narrow waist, marveling at how feminine she was, how perfect she felt to him and with him. Her mouth was hot and damp and clinging to his. When he slipped his tongue just inside her mouth, she groaned. The small sound made him shake. He could have kissed her forever.
But the idea of her underwear continued to plague him, and without even meaning to, he allowed his hands to wander until he cupped her lush backside and discovered for a fact she was naked beneath the dress.
He shuddered again and his body reacted. He pressed her forward against his groin, his hands kneading, rocking her into his hips. His control slipped, but she didn’t seem to mind. Things were happening fast, but that suited him. Giving her time, waiting for her to get over her embarrassment, had nearly used up all his patience.
Just remembering all the lonely, frustrated, lust-filled nights he’d suffered through recently filled him with renewed purpose, and he slanted his mouth over hers until she accepted his tongue completely. He explored her with a leisurely thoroughness, fascinated by that small crooked tooth, touching it with his tongue. And then…
She pushed him away. Gavin tried to reorient himself, but the room was dark, and all he could see of Sara was her outline and the gleam of her wide eyes, watching him. He could hear her breathing, as harsh as his own, and knew, even without the benefit of light, she was surely blushing again.
“I want you, Sara.”
She started to step back, but he reached out and caught her. His hand landed first against a plump breast, but he quickly altered his hold to her upper arm. They both breathed hard.
Sara trembled, and even that excited him. He’d never known a woman like her, with her honest reactions and sincere emotions. She couldn’t hide her feelings, even when she tried. There wasn’t an ounce of guile in her entire being. That alone made her unique.
“Why?”
Her tone dripped with suspicion. Because it was dark and she couldn’t see him, he gave in to the urge to grin. He was happy, dammit. After allowing h
er six long weeks to recover from her embarrassment and any lingering feelings she might have had for her damn philandering fiancé, he was finally with her.
He’d wanted her from the day she’d walked into his house and proclaimed him a genius. It was the first time a woman had noted anything about him other than a physical attribute. He was proud of the houses he built, and so was his family. But no other female had taken the time to realize the extent of his natural talent when it came to his work.
It hadn’t merely been the compliment that had done the trick, though. It had been her exuberance, her expressive nature. She was aware of life and the world around her in a way he’d never considered before. She took pleasure in such simple things, in the house he’d built, in her yard work. And he’d watched while she made plans to turn that house into a home with a family…for another man.
God, it had eaten him alive, kept him awake at night, and generally filled him with a morbid kind of desperation. She was meant for him, he knew that. And it wasn’t just her enthusiasm for him and his work. It was everything she did. Sara was the type of woman children would instinctively trust. Men would gravitate toward her because she was secure and comforting. She drew him with her honesty and her optimism and her generosity…and that lush little body of hers that constantly tempted him to touch. He couldn’t discount the body.
He looked at Sara and thought of home and hearth, Christmas and…rumpled sheets on a rainy night. Sara, naked and warm. He groaned. It was an eclectic mix of emotions she stirred, volatile in their power. But knowing he couldn’t overwhelm her with his full plans or feelings yet, he said simply, “You’re beautiful.”
There was no reply, just a telling silence. He sighed, knowing well enough she didn’t believe him. “It’s true, Sara. Ted probably didn’t tell you often enough, bastard that he was, but you’re very easy on the eyes.”
She cleared her throat, and he waited with a half smile, anxious to see what she would say.
“I’m short.”
Ignoring her resistance, he pulled her close for a quick hug, his chuckles rumbling in the quiet of the kitchen. Her head tucked neatly under his chin, his arms looped at the small of her back, he pretended to measure her against him, then nodded. “You’re perfect.”
“Gavin…”
He knotted his hand in her curling hair and tugged until she tilted her face up. Between small, nipping kisses that she greedily accepted, he said, “You’re also very sweet and sexy. It’s been hell staying away from you.”
“I had no idea—”
He didn’t let her finish, kissing her again until her hands came to his bare chest and smoothed over his skin. Her touch was shy and curious and he knew he’d lose control again if he didn’t put some space between them. Damn, now he was trembling like a virgin on prom night.
She’d been hurt by Ted, and he didn’t want her on the rebound. He didn’t want her doing anything she might regret later. And he didn’t want her only for an affair.
When he made love to Sara, it had to be because she wanted him as much he wanted her, which was one hell of a lot. Her confidence was a bit low now, and she was obviously gun-shy about getting involved with anyone again. But he could be patient. Being with Sara would be worth the extra effort.
Whispering, because she was still pressed close, her lips nearly touching his, he asked, “Where do you keep the candles and matches?”
“In the cookie jar.”
“Ah. Of course. Where else would they be?”
Sara straightened away from him, and he could imagine her fussing with her uncontrollable hair, her nervous hands busy. She moved toward the counter and he heard the clink of a glass jar. “I keep them here because the drawers are all full and…Well, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I just couldn’t quite bring myself to put my panties in the cookie jar.”
“I do understand.”
She went still, then asked with a touch of renewed suspicion, “Are you laughing at me again, Gavin?”
He tried to make himself sound appalled. “I’ve never laughed at you.”
“Hah!”
He ignored that. It was obvious he’d have his work cut out for him. “Find a corkscrew, too, and we can take the wine to the other room and get comfortable.” He felt her hesitation before she began opening cabinets and rustling through drawers. Very cautiously, she handed him two glasses in the dark, then took his arm to lead the way. It was an unnecessary measure on her part. He knew this house as well as she did, knew exactly where the family room was. And the master bedroom. But he would never refuse her touch, no matter how platonic.
He hadn’t been inside much since she’d moved in, though, and he had no concept of the placement of furniture, what little there was. She led him to a couch, then sat beside him.
“I’m sorry I can’t offer you a better seat, but the sofa is it.” She struck a match, then held it to the candle.
Gavin looked around the room. There was a portable television sitting on a crate, the sofa arranged against the back wall, and one end table next to it with a lamp. The oak moldings along the floor took on a soft sheen in the candlelight. So did Sara.
She turned toward him, her mouth open to speak, and caught him staring. There was a moment of complete stillness, their gazes locked, and then she jerked to her feet, flustered. “I forgot to get anything to put the candle in. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He wrapped his fingers around her narrow wrist and tugged her back into her seat. “We can use one of the glasses, and share the other.”
“But it’d be just as easy—”
“I’ve already kissed you, Sara, very thoroughly.” He kept his tone soft and quiet, his gaze holding hers. “Your tongue was in my mouth. Surely sharing a glass can’t bother you that much.”
Her eyes were huge, locked with his. “It…it’s not that.”
“Good.” He didn’t give her time to form more excuses, and he didn’t want her alone in the kitchen, building up her defenses. He opened the wine and filled the glass, then handed it to her. “Here’s to your narrow miss at unhappiness, and my escape from monotony.”
Quiet and still, she searched his face, her brow drawn in concentration. After a few cautious sips of the wine, she handed the glass back to him. “You really aren’t at all upset with me for attacking your house?”
The question overflowed with uncertainty, and Gavin took her hand in his again, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Seeing the look on Karen’s face was worth it. You surely did impress upon her the hazards of poaching.”
She’d been a stunning sight that day, a virago with a rake, female fury at its finest. He smiled. All he really remembered feeling that day was relief, because he knew Sara would never tolerate infidelity. Ted and Karen, with their lack of morals, had provided him an unhindered chance to attain something he’d wanted very badly.
He honestly couldn’t say he regretted the incident, but it prodded him like a sore tooth that Sara had been hurt. The thought of her mooning over another man filled him with territorial and possessive urges that would shock a liberated woman.
Deliberately he took a large swallow of the wine, then handed the glass back to her. She needed to relax just a bit, to take down a few of those walls that kept her so rigid. He wanted Sara to be as he first remembered her—filled with unrestrained excitement and bubbling enthusiasm.
With his arm along the back of the couch, Gavin made himself comfortable, stretching out his legs and making certain his thigh pressed close to Sara’s. She was familiar with him as a friend and neighbor. He wanted her familiar with him as a man. As a lover.
She didn’t move away. When she looked at him again, he dropped his hand to her shoulder in the natural way of offering comfort.
“Quit fretting, honey. You’ve got plenty of time to find the right man for you, someone who better suits you, someone who’ll appreciate you, someone who…”
She shook her head, denying him long before he finishe
d praising her. “No way. I went that route and it was a far cry from matrimonial nirvana. I’ve given up on the idea of marriage forever. It’s nothing but a hoax, anyway. I’ve decided to stay blessedly single. I’d rather have a pet instead of a troublesome man.”
Gavin’s heart and breath both froze. He wheezed out, “Excuse me?”
“You know. A little friendly furry pet to keep me company.”
“Ah…somehow I don’t think it’s quite the same.”
“Yeah, well. It’s a sure bet an animal would be more fun than a husband. More loyal. Steadfast. As long as you’re good to an animal, they won’t ever leave you.”
That was not what he wanted to hear. He chewed his upper lip, contemplating her stubborn expression. He hadn’t calculated on quite this attitude. For as long as he’d known her, Sara had talked about getting married and settling into domestic bliss. “I can see where you might be a little more reserved now, but it’d be ridiculous to judge every man by Ted.”
“I wouldn’t do that! I’m not dumb.” Then she said in disgust, “But it’s not just Ted. I’ve never seen one really successful marriage. I’m not sure there is such a thing. But I do know I don’t intend to waste my life looking for a husband. Ha! No sir. Not anymore. Pets are less mess, and they’re guaranteed to be more trustworthy.” She punctuated that statement with another long drink, finishing the glass and promptly refilling it. “It was past time for me to reevaluate and alter my thinking. I did, and I decided marriage is a waste. At least it seems to be for me.”
Now he needed the drink.
But Sara had become vehement in her speech, and in-between stating her newly revised plans, which from what he could tell meant avoiding any kind of human commitment, she practically guzzled the wine. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyelids were getting heavy. Bemused, Gavin sat back to watch her.
