“I haven’t been dancing in years,” said Alicia squeezing his hand. Then after a long pause, she added, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’m just glad I didn’t step on your feet. It’s been a while for me too.”
She took her hand from his and wrapped her arm around his waist. They turned a corner and the river came into view. A paddleboat moved across the water, its lights turning the dark waters around it bright. People walked along the decks, holding hands or simply holding each other along the railings. Flashes of light erupted periodically as everyone tried to get their favorite shots.
“I think that’s the boat I booked the tour on for tomorrow night,” said Alicia.
“It really is a wonderful cruise,” he said. “I’ve lived here for years and still take ride it every once and a while.”
Alicia pulled her arm out from around his waist and lifted her hand up to wave as the boat passed by. An enormous smile crossed her face and he strained to see if anyone was actually waving back to her, but couldn’t make out anyone in the crowd on the deck.
“Did you see someone?” he asked, as he looked back and forth from the boat.
She shook her head. “No, I just wanted to wave. They’re having so much fun on the water,” she said, and then looped her arm around his. “Almost as much fun as I’m having.”
“I’m glad I’ve been a fun date. You’ll have a good time tomorrow night, too. Your family will love the tickets you bought them.”
“If they don’t kill me first for ditching them.”
“Have you called them? I can get a cab and take you back to the hotel if you like. I did take you away from your family.”
“No,” she said firmly. “I can explain it to them tomorrow. And I don’t want to go back to the hotel.”
She bit her lower lip, and he had to suppress an urge to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, he braced himself for whatever she intended to say next.
“I’d like to go back to your place,” she said.
He held his emotions in check. It was the one thing he wanted and didn’t want her to say, all rolled into one. Every unsubtle clue she had dropped throughout the day, and all the fun they had had this evening, had now boiled down to simply wanting to head back for some final sex. Of all the women he had taken out, none of them held a tenth of attraction for him that Alicia possessed. She had in a good, real way, effortlessly worked her way under his skin. Now all that was left was for her to break his heart. How he could have fallen for her surprised him. He had been so careful and guarded over the last year. Go slow. Don’t have sex. Be careful. He never wanted to experience another loss like he had, and every protection he had thrown up was for his own benefit. But Alicia sailed past them, and she was the one woman he knew in advance that would leave him. Tomorrow. But now she wanted sex and his resolve was cracking. He needed to refuse her. Had to refuse her, even if he didn’t want to.
She reached a hand to his face and brushed some hair that had fallen over his eyes. He wanted to take her hand and suck gently on her soft fingers, but she acted first and kissed him. “I’m not ready to go back to the hotel. But we don’t have to do anything at your place, I just want to stay with you,” she said.
He saw her speak, but couldn’t believe the words.
“Please.”
Alicia, the woman who blatantly offered to model nude for him as a hook to landing him for sex, didn’t want to have sex? She only wanted to spend the night at his place without going to bed together? He must have heard her wrong.
“So no sex?” he asked.
“We can just sleep. No sex,” she said, and then she yawned.
Her eyes sparkled above dark lines as they waited for his answer. Sometimes, when an outdoors shoot had gone well, he couldn’t wait to go through his shots for the best one. But then fatigue would sweep through him to remind him of the hard work that he had done. She looked like he did on those days — excited, yet utterly exhausted, with a weariness that betrayed her intentions.
What were those intentions? From the moment she had come to his studio she had wanted sex. Had she given up completely on that desire or was it a temporary delay because she was tired. Or was it something else entirely? Something that even she didn’t understand? He didn’t know, and he’d give himself a headache if he tried to overanalyze what she really wanted. All he knew for certain was that she needed somewhere to rest and she had asked to do it with him at his home. His feeling for her had developed too quickly to understand, but he loved her. He couldn’t say no.
“It’s not far,” he said. “But we can take a cab. It’ll be faster than walking.”
She let out a sigh and leaned into him. He pulled her tight into him, letting her warmth flow into him and then back again to her. How he could ever let her go tomorrow, he didn’t know, but for now she was his, and he would take care of her.
Chapter 29
Peter fumbled around his pocket for his keys. She steped behind him after he found them so he could open the door. Then she put her hand to her forehead. No fever. If she wasn’t sick, then she couldn’t understand what had come over her. Peter got the door unlocked and swung it open.
“After you,” he said, waiting for her to go inside.
“Thank you.” He had gone out of his way to be chivalrous since she had made her promise of no sex to him. What had gotten into her? Her offer to cut short their date and go back to the hotel during dinner had already been completely out of character. Now she had gone and pledged to go back to a man’s home with the promise that they wouldn’t have sex. If she wasn’t down with a fever, then she must have gone mad. Even with all the doubts about her own sanity, she hadn’t once considered ordering the taxi to turn around and take her back to the hotel. She wanted to go back to his apartment.
She stepped past him onto a small ceramic foyer that opened into his living room. On her left a shoulder-high wall enclosed the kitchen space. A few feet farther in front of her a wider space opened on the left where a round dining room table sat. On the wall opposite the doorway , a hallway separated to the left and right, which she expected would lead to the bed and bath rooms. Off to the right a patio door opened out onto the balcony and overlooked the complex’s pool area.
She kicked off her shoes and walked into the middle of the room. Peter followed behind and she heard the click of the door’s lock. The living room didn’t have an abundance of furniture in it, but what he did have had a worn, homey look to them. Not new, but welcoming and comfortable, like they were inviting people to come and relax in them. Pictures hung along every wall, each of them eye catching, yet matched well enough with the colors of the room to not overwhelm the senses. She wondered if he hung his own photos or if preferred to display the work of others he admired.
“It’s nice,” she said.
“It’s home,” he said, taking off his own shoes and heading into the kitchen in his socks. “Sit down and relax and I’ll make some tea.”
After everything she had already drunk tonight, she wasn’t sure if her stomach could take anything more, but she stayed quiet and instead sat down on the sofa. “Did you take all the photos?” she asked.
“I keep my website and gallery to display my own work,” he said. The hum of a microwave sounded in the kitchen. “At home I like to see the work of all the photographers who inspired me. It keeps me motivated.” The microwave beeped and a moment later he came out with two steaming cups of tea. He placed one in front of her on the coffee table and took a sip from the other one as he sat down next to her. “I usually have a chamomile tea before crashing for the night. It helps me sleep. I hope you like it.”
She resisted the urge to scoot closer, but took the tea in both hands. The heat from the cup almost burned so she switched her grip to the handle. Her mind sounded alarm bells that she shouldn’t accept this drink since she didn’t watch him prepare it. She didn’t know what else he might have put into it, but she took a sip anyway and broke another o
ne of her rules for being with men. It wasn’t the first she had broken with him, she doubted it would be the last.
She tried listing all her rules, bright lines, and other requirements in her head: if they refuse or play games then leave. Only rented rooms, never someone’s house, especially hers. All they want is sex, so keep any other emotions besides lust locked away. Don’t drink alcohol on dates, he might take advantage of you. Don’t do romantic dates. Don’t accept a drink directly from a man, he might have drugged it. She knew she had other rules, but they all began to jumble together. Blood rushed to her head as she tried to remember some more, but she squinted her eyes together to keep the rush from exploding into a headache. So many rules. Her relationship with men was like moonlighting a second job. It exhausted her to keep track of everything, yet she had tossed all her rules aside, one-by-one, with Peter.
If he wasn’t going to have sex with her then what did he want? There had to be something, men always wanted something. She just needed to figure it out and make sure he didn’t get it, unless she wanted him to have it. Control needed to stay with her, no matter how difficult it might seem. She yawned again and moved closer to Peter, resting her head on his shoulder.
Her mind continued its warnings while her heart told her everything would be OK. She took another drink, not knowing which part of herself to believe. Her head, her rules, had served her so well for years. She shouldn’t ignore them so quickly. Her heart had only gotten her hurt.
Peter wrapped an arm around her, while his other hand stroked her forehead. “You’re tired,” he said. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right next to you when you wake up.”
She pushed the warnings in her head away and closed her eyes. She felt Peter take the tea from her hand and heard the clink of him placing it back on an end table. Tomorrow she’d have to figure out what he wanted from her, but now she needed to sleep like she had been awake for days.
Peter pulled her closer, enveloping her in his warmth, and she knew without a doubt that he would be there when she woke up, and he wouldn’t have done anything to take advantage of her. He wants to love you forever — if you let him. Her mind screamed that it was a lie as she let herself fall into a deep sleep.
***
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. You wanted it. Real bad.”
She stirred, half-asleep as the memory played itself over and over. The school dance. The after-party at Craig’s house. She refused the beer, so he got her a water. Then she became woozy and he took her upstairs. In the half-conscious memories she had next, Craig was on her. Inside her. Taking her virginity. Then she remembered the teasing, and vulgar propositions of all the other boys at school. She was easy. The girl who wanted it. Eventually she discovered that others at the party had known about what Craig intended. No one bothered to stop him or help her. She had learned the hard way what men wanted and promised to never be the one getting used again. In the seven years since, she’d never forgotten it, and always been the one in charge.
She deepened her breath and became aware of her pillow rising and falling underneath her. Her hands moved to fluff and steady the pillow under her head. Then she felt the coarse fabric of jeans, a belt buckle, and hard muscle. She opened her eyes to stare up at Peter, still sleeping with his head resting on the back of the sofa. Her legs sprawled down the length of the sofa, her head rested in his lap.
Her body shook as she remembered yesterday. The excitement she felt at the hotel when she saw him. Modeling for him at his studio. His reluctance to sleep with her. The long walk, dinner, and dancing. Then her request to go back home with him with the promise of nothing other than sleep.
What was wrong with her? What was she doing? She needed to run. To leave right now before he woke up and entangled her in his charm. She lifted her head off his lap and he stirred. His eyes never opened, but his hand moved to stroke the length of her arm. Excitement filled her under his touch and she rested her head back down into his lap.
He could have done anything to her while she slept. She wouldn’t have cared; most likely she would have encouraged it, if he had tried. But he didn’t. Now she felt more refreshed than she had in years. In his lap, his arms, his care, she had slept better then she had in her own bed. She even woke up with all of her clothes on. But with Peter she knew, that she could have fallen asleep with nothing but her panties or bra on, or even naked, and he never would have touched her.
What was wrong with him? A beam of light passed through the shades and fell on his face. His eyes squinted, and then opened. He turned his head down to her. Her heart swelled up and she knew. Nothing was wrong with him. He was just that kind of man. And tonight they’d say goodbye. He stomach lurched.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his smile turning into a frown.
She lied. “Nothing. I’m just wondering about my sisters.”
“I make a wicked omelet if you want some breakfast,” he said. “You don’t have to get back right away do you?”
Erica and Sara would be pissed with her by now. She had turned her phone off and been completely unreachable, but it was worth it. “I should go back to the hotel and check-in with the two of them,” she said.
“Could you do it by phone?” he asked.
“I’m afraid if I turn it on that it’ll explode with angry voicemails. I hope they haven’t called in a missing persons on me.” She started laughing. “Wouldn’t that just be the highlight of the weekend? My face up on the news.”
“I think you have to be missing a few days before they started doing that, but you should get a message to them,” he said. “I know you have the tour tonight, but if you can, I’d love to spend some of this afternoon with you.”
Her heart skipped a beat as he spoke and she grabbed his hand. “Yes,” she said.
He cocked his head. “Yes, you need to get a message to your sisters? Or yes, you’ll spend some time with me today?”
“Both,” she said and then sat up on the sofa. She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “No real kisses until I can freshen up. Morning breath is awful and you have two killer omelets to make.”
“I’ll deal with it,” he said and pulled her in for a proper kiss, his lips melting against hers. A small moan escaped her throat, even as she pushed him away.
“Ladies choice,” she said, holding a finger up. “No where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hallway on the left. I’ll get some breakfast started while you clean up.”
“Do you mind if I take a quick shower?” she asked.
“Of course not. There are towels in the closet. Just take what you need,” he said, starting to stand.
She stood frozen in place, looking at him. “You can join me, if you like,” she said. Any other time, she would have started squeezing her breasts, or made some other come-hither sensuous motion. But now, all she could manage was to wring her hands together and wonder if she really wanted him to say yes or no.
His body gave small shake like he’d just been electrocuted and he sucked in a breath. Then he let out a deep breath. “You’ll love my omelets.”
Peter went into the kitchen and she headed for the bathroom. Once she turned the corner and left his sight, she suppressed an urge to skip or hop the rest of the way. Someone in this apartment was crazy. She didn’t know if it was her or Peter, but she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this happy.
Chapter 30
“I don’t know where they could have run off to,” said Alicia, slipping a note under one of the hotel doors.
“Maybe they’re out hanging ‘Have you seen’ posters,” he said.
Alicia’s mouth dropped open, and she lightly punched his arm. “Don’t even say that. I’ll feel so bad if they’ve gone out looking for me.” She took his arm and they headed back to the elevators. “Sara will probably call me after she gets the note.”
“You turning the phone back on then?” he asked.
The look she gave him boiled his blood and the bulge in his pants started twi
tching. “Not until after our afternoon date,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze.
He didn’t know how he did it. Last night had been so hard, and so easy all together. When Alicia lay down in his arms on the sofa, he had wanted her so much he thought his pants would burst. But then he remembered how tired she looked on the street, a fatigue that increased the closer she got to sleep. By the time she had put her head on his shoulder, she looked worn.
Only her eyes still sparkled, as she looked up at him. Then her eyes closed and she fell asleep. The urges that dominated his body subsided and soon he wanted nothing more than to continue protecting her. Underneath the exhaustion, Alicia was a glittering jewel. During the photo shoot he had seen a part of her shine, but now he knew that it was mostly show. A fa�ade that she put up for others to see. Deeper inside, she was bruised.
Last night, she had acted unguarded. He was certain of it. Even today, she seemed more open with him than when they first met. But some walls had gone back up. Now he was determined to get under her skin so deep that he’d break down her wall permanently. He couldn’t let her go. He knew that now. Something inside him had switched back on when he was with her and he couldn’t let her leave today with nothing more than a memory. Somehow he had to convince her that they deserved a shot together; that they could have a real future. He had to tell her that he loved her.
The words rumbled through his head and for the first time in years he knew he meant them. Long ago, before he settled down with Jackie, he had said them to women, but they didn’t mean anything. For the second time in his life he had been blessed with meeting a woman that he knew he could love for the rest of his life. If Alicia, didn’t feel the same way, he’d be crushed, but he couldn’t let today end without her knowing how strong his feelings had become for her.
But before he got into opening up more, he had to find the right time, and they had things to do. “Would you mind if we made a little detour? There’s a fair over at the park that I’d like to stop by at before we head out for the afternoon.”
Cajun Vacation Page 17
