by Lori Foster
He found some lunch meat, cheese and pickles and set them on the table for sandwiches. He also poured two large glasses of milk. When he sat in the chair opposite her and began stacking meat and cheese on the bread, her eyes opened. She gave him that killer smile, the tip of her crooked tooth just barely visible. He faltered, then shoved the loaded sandwich at her.
Rather than starting on the food, she continued to watch him, and Gavin knew he had to divert her attention or he’d never make it through the meal. “I could give you a loan.”
She bolted upright, nearly throwing herself off the chair. Outrage shone clearly in her expression. “Absolutely not!”
He’d known that would be her answer, but he wanted to help her. “Now, Sara—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Gavin. For Pete’s sake, we’re only acquaintances, despite my rather lurid fantasies. And I have to face facts. If I can’t afford this place now, a loan isn’t going to help. I’d only end up in the same situation, but then I’d owe you, too.”
He stared, that part about “lurid fantasies” still singing through his brain.
“Gavin?”
She was right, but he wouldn’t accept her moving. He could alter his plans a bit, but he wouldn’t have them completely ruined. He wouldn’t give up. He’d spent months mapping out his strategy, and he wouldn’t let a little thing like finances get in his way. “Maybe…”
She held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not your problem. Besides, I’ve been working on it, and though I’d rather not, I think I may have come up with a solution.”
Thank goodness. Gavin nudged the sandwich toward her again, wanting her to eat. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to look for a roommate.”
It was a viable solution, he supposed, but…“Do you really want another woman living here?”
“Heck no. Women tend to run a household, to be territorial about where they live. They want to add their own little touches, leave their mark. This is my house, and I don’t intend to let someone else take it over. I’d rather go ahead and sell it first.”
She gave him a drunken leer, then explained with a flourish, “I was talking about a man.”
CHAPTER 4
GAVIN STARED, feeling as if someone had just sucker-punched him in the gut. Was she trying to kill him? Sara with yet another man? Hell no! He’d only just gotten rid of Ted-the-despicable. He had no intention of going through that personal hell again.
She gave him a sleepy smile, unaware of how tense he’d become or the agony she caused. He watched as she folded her arms on the table, then rested her head there. She continued to watch him, and she continued to smile. She looked…adoring, and that made him uneasy. After a deep sigh, she said, “I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful man.”
Ridiculously he felt a blush inching up his neck. Thank God it was too dark for her to see, even though her gaze was direct and very intent. “Eat your sandwich, Sara.”
She chuckled at his brusque tone. “I’m not all that hungry.”
He took a vicious bite of his own ham and cheese. The room was so silent, he could hear himself chew. He also heard her small, dreamy sighs. “Where, exactly, do you intend to find this person who will live with you?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to specify a male.
“I’m not sure yet.” She gave an elaborate shrug. “I suppose I’d want someone willing to pitch in, not just expect me to do all the work. And he’d absolutely have to be fun. I can’t stand a sourpuss. And he’d have to like pets. I really do want a pet. Maybe a cute little floppy-eared puppy. There’s always plenty of them at the shelter that need homes. Too many, in fact. We’re nearly full now, and still, every day, someone drops off a litter and…”
“Sara?” He couldn’t bear it if she started crying again.
“Hmm?”
“You’re digressing. Where do you intend to find this paragon who’ll live with you?”
“I suppose I could ask around at the office on Monday. Or maybe I could run one of those ads.”
“No! No ads.” Her eyes widened at his tone, and he shook his head, then paced away from the table. “You don’t know what kind of crazy might show up with an open ad.”
He couldn’t exactly picture her questioning the men at her office, either. She worked as a secretary for a large corporate firm, and the people there were very stuffy. He knew, because he’d done some contracting for them. How Sara could thrive in that environment, he didn’t know. All those suits and exacting regulations would have driven him batty. But for Sara, who always smiled and carried a cheerful disposition, it would be doubly difficult. He supposed it was just one more example of her ability to overcome the obstacles in her life. She’d evidently learned to adapt with her parents, and with her work. But there was only so much adapting a gentle, honest woman like her could do.
And that was why she wanted a dog.
Did she really think having a pet would fill her life? Did she think a dog could act as a buffer against the outside world? He was certainly no psychologist, but it seemed obvious to him Sara wanted to be loved, despite her new resolve not to marry. And since she’d given up on finding a man to fulfill that important task, she was willing to give the duty to a pet.
He snorted. She’d just have to settle for him, and that was that.
But how to convince her? He chewed his lip a moment, undecided, but he knew in his heart what he would do. He stared at the window and tried to keep his body inattentive to his plans. He cleared his throat. “I suppose there’s only one solution.”
He waited for Sara to ask him to explain, and when she didn’t, he turned to frown at her. “Sara?”
His only response was a soft, snuffling snore.
Amused, he smiled at the picture she made. Her mouth was open, one cheek smooshed up by her arm, and even when he smoothed a hand over her hair, she didn’t stir.
Well now. It was Friday. She didn’t have to be at work tomorrow, and neither did he. All kinds of possibilities presented themselves, and this time he’d throw nobility out the door. All’s fair in love and war, and with Sara, he had a feeling it would be a balancing act of each.
Unfortunately he’d have to start with the war.
* * *
THE SUN WAS BRIGHT when Sara opened her eyes. She stretched, then winced at the pain in her head. She felt lethargic and didn’t particularly want to get up, which was unusual because she usually woke easily.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, noticed she wore a badly rumpled sundress instead of her nightgown and then she remembered.
She’d gotten drunk last night.
She’d gotten drunk and hit on Gavin.
Mortified, she pressed a hand to her chest to contain her racing heart, trying to remember everything she’d said to Gavin. Though her head pounded from her overindulgence, it unfortunately didn’t obliterate her memory. She recalled several damning tidbits of conversation that had slid silkily off her muddled tongue, and she knew for a fact she’d simply curl and die if she ever had to face him again.
He sauntered through her bedroom door carrying coffee and wearing a wide smile. “Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”
She quickly closed her eyes. Death had to be imminent.
Any second now.
If she just waited…
“Sara?”
No such luck. Sara peeked one eye open and saw that Gavin loomed over her, his brow lifted in question. She blinked, caught her breath and her stomach began flip-flopping.
Gavin was still wearing his cutoffs, but now they were unsnapped and only partially zipped.
Partially was enough to make her eyes buggy.
In the full light of morning, he was simply breathtaking. And with a dark beard-shadow covering his lean jaw and his hair sleep-mussed, he looked good enough to be breakfast. He was also waiting for an answer to his question. “I, ah…”
“I slept great,” he said. “Your bed is a little short for me, and it
was hotter than hell with both of us snuggled in there, but then—” he gave her a wink “—I could overlook the little discomforts.”
Everything in her jerked to a shuddering standstill. Her heart stopped beating, oxygen snagged in her lungs. She was frozen, staring, mouth agape.
He had to be teasing.
Oh God, please let him be teasing.
There was no way he’d slept with her. Surely, even through a drunken haze, she would have remembered such a momentous occasion. She looked directly at him, refusing to flinch, prepared to dispute him and call him on his bluff. She opened her mouth, cleared her throat, and out came something that sounded vaguely like, “Hmgarph?”
Gavin set the coffee mugs on the nightstand, then plumped the pillows behind Sara. “Here, lean back and get comfortable. I thought we’d have our coffee in bed.”
“Hmgarph,” she said again, because his warm hands had closed around her calves as he swung her legs onto the mattress, settling her despite her stiff resistance.
How many times had she imagined something like this? Something like this…after something much more significant of a sexual nature. She’d dreamed such things, but she’d certainly never considered them actually happening. After all, Gavin was…well, he was Gavin. And she wasn’t his type, not at all. She’d even been stretching the boundaries of fiction to imagine it in her dreams.
Yet here he was, and here she was, and all she could do was make nonsensical garbled sounds. If she could only understand why he was here, maybe she wouldn’t be so nervous. It couldn’t be for the most apparent reasons. Gavin couldn’t be interested in her. After all, even Ted had found her so lacking, he’d quickly wandered. Her own parents hadn’t deemed her interesting enough to want to have around. There was simply something about her that made people keep their distance. So surely Gavin wouldn’t…
He scooted in with her, quite at his ease, his big luscious body taking up a lot of room. He casually handed her a mug of steaming coffee. His smile now was one of satisfaction and contentment. “Now, isn’t this better?”
Better than what? she wondered, and drank half the cup in one gulp. Despite the heat of the drink, she shivered. It hit her suddenly how cool the room was. Before she could ask, Gavin offered an explanation.
“The electricity came back on about five this morning. It had gotten damn steamy in here, so I turned on your air.”
That got her tongue temporarily unglued. “I can’t afford to run the air conditioner.”
What an inane comment to make, she thought, given the fact she was lying in bed with a mostly naked, utterly devastating man, who surely wasn’t there for the usual reasons a man put himself in a woman’s bed yet she didn’t know why he was really there and couldn’t seem to find the wits to ask him.
But her mind simply refused to focus on the real issues. It was too much to take in, and with her heart doing wild leaps around her chest, and her eyes busy exploring every inch of Gavin’s hard body, her concentration was nil. Her brain kept screaming, What happened? but her heart kept whispering, I’ll bet it was good!
Gavin took a long sip of his coffee before turning to her. “You can afford to be comfortable, Sara. Remember, you’ve got a roommate now to split the bills, so there’s no need to suffer this heat wave.”
Roommate? She remembered mentioning the half-baked idea to him, but she never claimed to have found anyone. She wasn’t even looking, not since she’d decided she had no choice but to sell. She bit her lip, frowning.
Gavin reached up and rubbed his thumb across the edge of her teeth, freeing her bottom lip and halting her heartbeat in erratic midpump. “I love how you do that.” His voice was a rough whisper, deep and compelling. “It makes me hot.”
Sara felt like a zombie. A wide-eyed, speechless, sleep-rumpled zombie who could do no more than stare. She swallowed hard to remove the choking disbelief from her throat. “How I do…what?”
“The way you chew on your lip.” His big thumb continued to caress her mouth, his eyes watching as she struggled to breathe. “It’s so damn sexy. Especially with that little crooked tooth. When I kissed you last night, I felt that tooth with my tongue.”
He thought her crooked tooth was sexy? Sara laughed, comprehension dawning. Of course. It was all a dream! She was probably still in the damn tub, and she’d drown herself before she actually woke up. It would be poetic justice.
“What’s funny?” Gavin still looked at her lips when he asked that question, and Sara had to fight not to smile. She didn’t want him to think she was deliberately flaunting her sexy tooth.
She laughed again, covering her mouth with a hand. How ridiculous that sounded, even in a dream. She shook her head. “I just realized I must still be asleep, that’s all.”
Gavin looked up to meet Sara’s eyes. Hot. His gaze was so hot, Sara hoped she never woke up. She liked having him look at her like that, as if he cared for her, as if maybe he loved her a little. It was a foolish notion, but if dreaming made it seem real, she’d willingly stay asleep.
“When I was younger, the schoolkids used to make fun of my teeth. Mom said she couldn’t afford cosmetic dentistry, and Dad kept forgetting. Now that I’m older, it really just doesn’t matter anymore.”
Gavin’s eyes narrowed just the tiniest bit, as if someone had just pinched him, then his gaze dropped to her mouth. “You have a beautiful smile, and the one tooth is only slightly turned, certainly nothing for kids to tease about. I’m glad you didn’t fix it.”
She chuckled again, finding his answer as bizarre as everything else that happened. She said, “A crooked tooth is a crooked tooth.”
Very slowly, Gavin leaned across her and took her coffee cup, setting it on the nightstand with his. As he moved, his broad, hard chest crowded her back and she inhaled his sleep-musky intoxicating scent. She had only a moment to contemplate his motives, and then he kissed her.
Just as he’d said, his tongue pressed between her lips, warm and soft and damp, then probed along the edge of her teeth. This was no dream. Sara made that acknowledgment the same instant she decided she didn’t care. It was too exciting, the way he teased her with his tongue. She opened her mouth wider, her hands moving against the firm contours of his chest. The hair there was crisp, but soft, tickling her palms and curling between her fingers. And the heat—there was so much heat.
He gave a low groan and urged her closer, then tilted her into the bed until he was lying on top of her.
“Sara,” he whispered, his lips moving over her cheek, her forehead, her mouth again. He lifted himself onto his elbows, caging her between his muscled arms. With one hand, he smoothed her wildly rambunctious hair away from her forehead, then gave her a tender smile. “You’re not drunk anymore.”
Sara blinked at the change of subject. Her mind was still back there with that kiss, with the damp heat and his talented tongue and…She shuddered. “No.”
“Hungover?”
Since she’d never been hungover before, she wasn’t sure. But it sounded vulgar, so despite her pounding head she rejected the idea. “Just tired. And a bit of a headache.”
With a slow thrust of his hips, he reminded her of all the places they touched, how intimately they were entwined. “Good. That’s good.” His gaze lifted to lock with hers. “Now tell me about these fantasies.”
Her eyes widened.
With the lightest touch, his mouth brushed over hers. “Last night, you said you fantasized about me. You even offered to tell me what those fantasies were.”
Even the air conditioning couldn’t counteract the flustered heat she generated, and she hadn’t even made it out of bed yet. “I…ah, I was drunk.”
His tender smile curled her toes and made her thigh muscles tingle. “I know. But you didn’t make it up, did you? Tell me now.”
“I should never have said anything.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“I feel so ridiculous.”
“I think you feel very soft and warm and sweet.�
� He pressed against her to emphasize his words, and groaned deeply. “Oh, yeah. Very sweet.”
His tone of voice, rumbling and deep, could be lethal. “Gavin…”
“Sara…” He mimicked her, then gave her another light, taunting, tell-me-all kiss. It was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself. Sara was considering that possibility, her eyes still wide, when he said, “When do you want me to move in?”
She reeled. True, she was lying flat on her back, and Gavin’s weight kept her securely stationed against the bed but still she reeled, at least mentally. Did he intend to keep her off balance all morning? “Uh…what are you talking about?”
His low sigh fanned her warm cheeks, her lips. “I can tell you’re not a morning person.” His kiss this time lingered, and left her bemused. “That might be a problem, babe, because I definitely am.”
“Am what?” In truth, she was a morning person. But then, she’d never awakened before with a gorgeous man looming around, endearments tripping off his oh-so-suave tongue, while flaunting his too tempting, mostly bare, exquisite body. So she understood her vast confusion even if he didn’t. It had very little to do with her sleeping habits. “Gavin, will you make sense?”
“All right.” He kissed her once more, short and sweet, then said, “I’m your new roommate. You do remember asking me to move in last night, don’t you?”
When she only continued to stare, waiting for the punch line, he added, “You were very convincing, shooting down all my arguments, even threatening me with that damn rake once. I had no choice. No choice at all. You insisted I see things your way. And of course, I did. Who could resist a begging woman?”
She narrowed her eyes, knowing she would never beg, not even in a drunken stupor. The rake attack…well, they both knew that was possible. But not begging. “I haven’t begged for anything since…well, since I was kid.”
His expression softened, the teasing gone to be replaced with tender understanding. “When you begged to keep your puppy?”
