Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It

by Lucy Monroe

  Just as quickly as his fury had come, it melted away. "You were jealous."

  He'd suspected as much whenSandy had been coming on to him earlier, but pure male satisfaction filled him as Ronnie confirmed it.

  She glared. "I wasnot jealous. What you do with your blond bimbos isnone of my concern."

  He couldn't resist needling her. "I thoughtSandy was your friend."

  Ronnie looked disconcerted, her face tinged pink with shame. "She is."

  "Do you call all your friends bimbos, or just the ones who are interested in your ex-lover?"

  "I didn't mean it like that," she said, through gritted teeth. "Sandy's a very nice person."

  "She's also stunningly attractive."

  He was totally unprepared for the moisture that filled Ronnie's eyes or the way her lower lip quivered. She pivoted, giving him a view of her back.

  "Yes, she is," she said, her voice stifled.

  To hell with one-upmanship. He couldn't stand to see her cry.

  He laid his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back toward him until their bodies touched. "Iam an insensitive pig. I'm sorry, baby."

  "Toad. Not a real one either. A cement toad and I don't know why you're sorry for speaking the truth.Sandy is gorgeous." Her voice broke on the last word and she tried to pull away from him.

  He tightened his grip on her shoulders. "The only woman I want right now is you.Sandy could just as well be a piece of pretty furniture for as much as she stirs my libido."

  Ronnie sniffed. "It doesn't matter."

  The urge to shake her returned. It damn well did matter. It mattered so much that he'd been celibate for eighteen long months. It mattered so much that his Ronnie, indomitable of will and as dry-eyed as theSahara in the face of life's most upsetting trials, was crying.

  "Oh, it matters all right."

  She tried to pull away again, but he held tight and turned her to face him. She refused to look at him while straining against the circle of his arms.

  "Don't be difficult," he admonished her.

  She stopped struggling and dropped her forehead against the bright cotton covering his chest. "I'm not trying to be difficult. I'm just trying to be reasonable. Getting involved with you again would not be reasonable."

  He agreed. Going to bed with Ronnie would be criminally stupid, but every day that went by only increased his need and he didn't know how much longer he would be able to withstand the tempta-tion. Particularly when he knew she wanted him too. He could feel it in her trembling body as she stood in the circle of his arms.

  "Come to my place for dinner tomorrow night."

  She shook her head against his chest but said nothing.

  "Please, baby."

  Why was he begging her? Shouldn't it be the other way around? She was the one who left him.

  "1 thought you said you wouldn't have any time for me until next week."

  "I was being stupid." He had believed that he could resist her. That thought had used less than a full brain cell to develop.

  She hiccupped a small laugh at that. "Yes, you were."

  "So, you'll come?"

  "I don't think it's a good idea."

  "But you'll come." He made it a statement, hoping she would agree. "I'll grill some steaks."

  "Just dinner."

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, and said nothing. He couldn't promise anything that prosaic. He might have two years ago. Two years ago he had been willing to do or say just about anything to seduce her into his bed. He wasn't playing those kinds of games anymore. If she came to him, she had to know what she was agreeing to.

  She pushed away from him and this time he let her.

  Giving him a gimlet stare, she said, "I'm not going to have sex with you."

  That's okay." He didn't intend to have sex either. He wanted to make love and Veronica Richards was the only woman with whom he'd ever made that distinction.

  Chapter Ten

  Veronica stood knock-kneed with tension outside Marcus's temporary apartment.

  Temporary.

  He was only inSeattle for a consulting assignment. Then he would be gone. If she allowed herself to get involved with him again, she'd go through the same devastating withdrawal she'd had to suffer the last time. She didn't think she could survive that kind of pain again.

  Dinner. It was just dinner, she reminded herself.

  She'd told Marcus she didn't intend to have sex with him and he'd agreed. She had nothing to worry about. He'd also said that he wasn't interested in blackmailing her into bed. So, she was safe. Totally and completely safe… wasn't she?

  Lifting her hand, she pressed the doorbell.

  The door swung open almost immediately and Marcus stood framed in its portal. He wore his customary Hawaiian shirt, this one in shades of blue, but instead of the Dockers he wore to the office, his legs were encased in faded blue denim. Very sexy, very tight denim.

  Sucking in a breath, she thrust the chocolate torte she'd prepared the night before toward him. "I brought dessert."

  Smiling lazily, Marcus took the blue-and-white plastic cake carrier from her hands. "Thanks."

  He moved back so she could precede him into the apartment. His spicy male scent, made up of equal parts Polo aftershave and Marcus, surrounded her as she was forced to pass by with only a few inches to spare between their bodies. The assault on her sense of smell carried a lot of memories. She couldn't help the brief weakening at her knees as she recalled the way that scent changed to an earthier fragrance after they made love. This wasnot what she should be thinking about.

  He closed the door and dangled the cake carrier from one finger by its handle. "It looks delicious, honey. Is it that sinfully chocolate thing you made the one and only night I had dinner in your apartment?"

  With a sense of sickening clarity, she realized it was. Why had she madethat dessert, of all desserts? She could have made something, anything, else. She would have liked to lie and say she didn't remember, but she no longer took even minimal liberties with her sense of honor.

  "Yes."

  His smile was knowing, his expression smug.

  She managed not to grit her teeth with an effort of will. Striving for an air of cool she did not feel, she removed her lightweight denim jacket and laid it casually over the back of a white leather overstuffed chair. She'd gone for relaxed informality in her attire and wore a pair of well-worn jeans and a pinkHenley shirt tucked in. She figured she couldn't have gotten any less sexually suggestive in her attire.

  Turning around to face Marcus, she had to wonder if he agreed. His eyes burned with latent male hunger as he intently studied her. What had he found to stir such blatant sexual desire in her androgynous clothing? For the space of an entire minute, she could not move or break her gaze away from his.

  Then he spoke. "Ronnie."

  Just that one word, but so full of desire that she leaned against the back of the sofa for support.

  "Dinner, Marcus. You promised." She couldn't help the breathless sound of her voice, but she didn't let that bother her.

  She thought she was doing pretty good remaining upright and capable of any speech at all under such intense male scrutiny.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath before exhaling just as slowly. "Dinner. Right."

  Opening his eyes again, he turned toward a hallway that must have led to the kitchen. "The grill's warmed up and it won't take any time at all to cook the steaks."

  "Great." She exhaled a sigh of intense relief at his apparent willingness to stick to their bargain, because she didn't think she had the strength to do so on her own. "I'll fix the salad."

  He led her into a bright, well-appointed kitchen about twice the size of her own. She sighed. She'd give a lot to have a kitchen this big to experiment with her baking in, but she'd gone for other considerations when renting her current apartment. Things like price and the number of bedrooms.

  Jenny deserved space that she could call her own after sp
ending so many months in the invasive atmosphere of hospitals. Even though it had meant renting an older apartment with smaller, shared living areas, Veronica had readily signed a lease on the three-bedroom unit in the mostly residential neighborhood.

  Marcus pulled a glass bowl with plastic wrap over the top from the fridge. 'The salad's done."

  Looking at the table in the adjoining dining alcove, Veronica noticed that the table had already been set as well. "Is there anything I can do?"

  "Keep me company while I grill the meat." He opened the sliding door to a small balcony and stepped out.

  She followed, wishing she'd left her coat on. The brisk spring air made her shiver, even through the thick cotton of her shirt, and she was made uncomfortably aware of the sheer fabric of her bra. She stepped closer to the barbecue for warmth, hoping her tightening nipples would not be too noticeable.

  She crossed her arms over her chest protectively. "It's chilly out here."

  He turned his deep blue gaze on her and smiled. "I can keep you warm, honey. You just have to say the word."

  She stepped back hastily from the barbecue and him. "I'll get my jacket."

  His laughter trailed after her as she fled into the house. She thought she heard him call her a coward but wasn't sure and she wasn't about to go back right that minute and ask. Stopping to don her jacket in the ultramodern living room, she tried to get hold of her seesawing emotions. One minute she felt absolutely certain that the last place she would ever find herself would be in Marcus's bed and the next she wanted to grab him by the hand and drag him there.

  Coming back out onto the balcony a minute later, she found her sexual nemesis lounging casually against the half wall. Blue sky and water in the distance made an impressive, but nerve-racking backdrop for his intimidating height.

  Her stomach lurched and her heart sped up. She wanted to grab him by the front of his brightly colored shirt and yank him away from the wall.

  "Marcus, get away from there. What if the wall doesn't hold?"

  His eyes widened with amusement. "I'm sure the building was put together with the prospect of inhabitants leaning against the railing a time or two."

  Her hands curled into fists at her sides. Feeling really foolish, she averted her gaze from him. "Yes, of course."

  She knew he was right. Her unreasonable fear of heights had always embarrassed her; she didn't understand why she had this fear. When her parents were alive, her dad, who walked exposed steel girders ten stories high, would tease her about it. As she'd gotten older, she'd learned to control her reaction for the most part.

  But she still overreacted to the sight of a loved one anywhere near a cliff edge, or a glassed-in wall on an elevator. She'd had to grit her teeth and pray her way through every jump her sister took off the high dive when Jenny had been involved in swimming competition before her disease had put an end to all sports activities.

  Marcus pushed away from the balcony wall and came toward her, stopping less than a foot away.

  Reaching out, he tugged her face toward him with a blunt finger angled against her chin. "You're frightened of water. You're nervous about heights. You're terrified of me. Is there anything you aren't afraid of?"

  She opened her mouth to speak, but one look into his mesmerizing blue eyes and she couldn't remember the question. "Wh-what?"

  He smiled, his eyes going the color of theCaribbean Sea just before sunset. "Never mind. It's not important."

  He started lowering his head. His lips were centimeters from her own when his earlier words came back to her.

  In a desperate attempt to head off his kiss, she blurted, "I'm not afraid of water and I'm not terrified of you."

  She was terrified of what he made her feel, but she wasn't about to admit that salient fact.

  He stopped his descent but didn't pull back. "You would never go swimming with me."

  "I didn't want you to see me in a swimsuit."

  He laughed incredulously, the warm breath from his mouth fanning her lips. "I saw you in a lot less."

  And she'd seen him the same way. Images of Marcus wearing nothing but his sexy smile took her breath right out of her chest. "That was after you asked me to go swimming."

  He seemed to take that in. "I see. So, is there any chance I could convince you to share the pool on the basement level with me in the near future?"

  Too tempted for comfort, she blurted out, "No!"

  "Why?" His husky voice warmed her nerve endings just like a caress.

  "I don't want to seeyou in a suit," she admitted rawly. She didn't think she could handle it.

  "You said you weren't afraid of me."

  "I'm not, but I'm also not stupid."

  "So you admit the sight of my nearly naked body would be a major turn-on for you." His eyes challenged her while his scent and warmth tantalized her.

  She refused to answer and remained stubbornly-mute. He darn well knew what the sight of his body did to her. She'd heard that women were not visual creatures, that the sight of a naked man was not supposed to be all that enticing, that what went on in their heads and hearts was far more important.

  Well, all she knew was that the sight of Marcus without his shirt on had always sparked unbelievably hot fantasies, and the less he wore, the hotter those fantasies got.

  She'd once admitted as much to him, expecting him to laugh. Instead he'd told her that she was the most incredibly special lover he'd ever had. Even memories of that sentiment brought heated moisture to the back of her eyes.

  He gently pulled her glasses off her face, making her feel doubly vulnerable to his gaze. Stepping back, he laid them on the table by the grill and then returned to invade her personal space. Space that crackled with her need for him.

  "You're going to see me in a whole lot less," he promised before letting his mouth finish its initial descent and lock onto hers.

  And the world spun away as her entire universe shrank to encompass the taste of his lips and the feel of his body so close to hers. How had she ever thought she could refuse this? She needed Marcus like she needed the air she breathed, and for the past eighteen months, she had lived as if starved for life-giving oxygen. If she hadn't had Jenny and Aaron relying on her, she wouldn't have made it.

  Monday night in his car had been the first time in over a year that she had felt anything resembling whole.

  How could she withstand the temptation to feel alive and complete again after living the life of a ghost for so many months?

  She parted her lips without thought and he took immediate advantage of her willingness to deepen the kiss. He explored her mouth with erotic savagery, the hunger so blatant in his gaze earlier now transmitted to his devastatingly talented mouth. She melted under the onslaught, allowing her body to press against his. Feeling the hard press of his masculinity against her stomach, she marveled at the rapidity and obvious firmness of his erection.

  Trailing her fingers around his back, she slipped her hands under his shirt and explored the heated satin of his skin with starved intensity. His muscles bulged in rigidity as he shuddered under her exploration. She slid her questing fingers lower until she reached the waistband of his jeans. Without stopping to think, she continued until she had worked her hands under the denim. He wasn't wearing his usual snug knit boxers. She smiled a secret smile as she cupped the muscular curves of his butt and he groaned low in his throat.

  She didn't know where this boldness had come from. She'd lived the life of a single parent uninterested in sex for almost two years.

  She had ignored every male invitation and come-on, not that there had been that many. But the ones that had come had all been treated with the same level of cool dismissal. She just wasn't interested in making another mistake, she'd told herself. And now she had to face the truth.

  She'd been waiting for Marcus.

  Her body's response to him was too intense, too instantaneous for her to dismiss that truth. She had wanted him with shattering intensity eighteen months ago and she w
anted him now. She pulled Marcus's body closer to hers and he spread his legs to encompass her. She lowered one hand until the tip of her fingers could reach the beginning of the soft flesh of his scrotum.

  Pressing gently in a move she'd read about in a woman's magazine regarding the male "G" spot, during one of her sojourns in the hospital waiting area, she felt his entire body go rigid, and then he moaned in the most amazingly primitive way. She would have smiled at the success of her foray, but her lips were too busy melding with Marcus's.