by Karen Booth
He was a man of many surprises. No question about that. “That was incredible.” She sighed, drinking in his smell and still not quite believing this had happened. She’d fantasized about it so many times, but to her great surprise, her mind hadn’t managed to make it anywhere close to this good.
Seven
Clay woke with a hum of satisfaction in his body and the pleasing warmth of Astrid’s even breaths on his chest. Her head rested on his shoulder, silky hair draped on his arm, a delicate hand on his stomach, and long leg wrapped around his. He was blissfully aware of the press of her soft breasts against his rib cage, and of the velvety contours of her lower back as he settled his own hand there. It had been a long time since he’d experienced this much closeness with a woman, and he was a man divided against himself because of it. The sunnier parts of him could get used to this. But his more pragmatic side was fighting against that, telling him to run. It was an insidious loop to be stuck in. His past had worn a rut in his thinking, but there was certainty in remaining romantically unattached. There was safety there. For himself, but more importantly, for his daughter.
Still, Astrid was simply amazing. Last night had been electrifying, their physical connection intense. He wanted more of what they’d shared, but that was the irrational part of his brain whispering that it would be okay to wade back into these waters. The truth was that he couldn’t put life on pause. They were about to drive back to San Diego in a few hours. He would spend his weekend with Delia. He and Astrid would return to work on Monday. And they had just managed to make their professional relationship even more complicated. He’d made a mistake, and now he had to fix it.
He was mulling over how to address this with Astrid when his phone rang. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was nine a.m. This was likely Miranda and Delia.
“Astrid. I need to get this call.” He uncoiled himself from her and scrambled across the room for his phone. To make matters worse, it was a video call. He pressed Accept, but left the phone facing up, so the only view Delia and Miranda would get would be of the ceiling. “Hey, guys. What’s up?” He quickly put on his boxers, then grabbed the jeans he’d packed from his suitcase.
“Why are we looking at a ceiling?” Miranda asked.
Across the room, Astrid was sitting up in bed, pushing her messy hair back from her face. How was she so damn beautiful, even first thing in the morning?
“Sorry,” Clay said. “I’m putting on a shirt. I just got out of bed.” He held a finger to his lips to silently beg Astrid to be quiet.
“We called to say congratulations,” Miranda said. “We were surprised you didn’t call us last night, but Tara texted me to say she was excited that you won.”
Guilt washed over him. He’d reached his pinnacle and hadn’t thought to call the two most important people in the world. Now that he was dressed, he picked up his phone and looked at the screen. There were Delia and Miranda, sitting on the sofa in her living room. “I’m so sorry. There was a big party afterward and so many people. I just didn’t have a spare minute to myself.” He hated that little white lie. He had totally fallen down on the job by not calling them last night. This was the perfect illustration of how much he allowed himself to be distracted by Astrid. He lost all coherent thought when he was with her.
“Party?” Miranda asked, seeming incredulous. “You hate parties.”
“You do hate parties,” Astrid whispered to him as she climbed out of bed. “Don’t lie about it.”
Clay shushed her.
“Did you just shush me?” Miranda asked.
“I don’t always hate them,” Clay shot back as Astrid walked up to him, completely naked. Her body was so incredible it made his head swim—her rounded hips, her lovely breasts, and her lush bottom. She was a feast for the senses. He was not sated. And he had to get over it.
“Daddy, when are you coming home?” Delia asked.
Clay glanced at Astrid as she walked away from him to the bathroom, wagging her hips with every step. Never? Is that a valid answer? “Soon, honey. Soon. I need to shower and pack up and grab some breakfast. I should be back a little after lunchtime.”
“So Aunt Miranda and I can go swimming?”
“Take your time,” Miranda said with a quick arch of her eyebrows. Was she on to him? He never should have asked for advice about Astrid. He never should have put the thought in his sister’s head. He’d hoped she could help him straighten out his thinking, but she’d had to go and muddy the waters with that stuff about staying open to the idea of love. That was an easier prospect for Miranda. She’d lost the person she loved by a cruel twist of fate. He’d had to find out that he’d married and had a child with someone he’d read all wrong. That mistake would always hang over his head.
“Love you both,” he said.
“Love you, too,” Miranda and Delia said in response.
Clay ended the call, his heart and conscience heavy.
He looked up to see Astrid standing in the doorway to the bathroom, leaning against the frame, her glorious body on full display. “Did I hear something about a shower?” She punctuated the question with a subtle pout.
He knew that what he was about to say would come out badly, but he also didn’t want to lead Astrid down a path where he wasn’t clear about his intentions. She deserved better than that. He wasn’t about to be the man who took what he wanted and then ended it all. It wouldn’t be right to do so.
He rose from his chair and approached her. With every step closer, his stomach knotted tighter and he regretted his situation a little more. She was so tempting. She was quite possibly the perfect woman. But she was also an unknown quantity. They barely knew each other. That made her dangerous. It was one thing to put his heart on the line, but he wouldn’t do that to Delia. “I do need to take a shower, but I wanted to talk first.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, digging her fingers into his nape. Her nakedness was so distracting—every part of her that he wanted to touch was mere inches away. “What do you want to talk about?” She popped up onto her tiptoes and kissed his neck.
His hands reflexively went to her hips, and the instant his skin touched hers, the battle inside his body was reborn. His need for her was fiery and intense, making every drop of blood race to the center of his body. He wanted her so badly he couldn’t see straight. “Us. Last night.”
“It was amazing,” she whispered into his ear.
“It was. It absolutely was. But we didn’t talk about our personal situations before clothes started to come off, and getting that call from Miranda and Delia just now only reminded me that I have other people to worry about other than myself.”
“Oh. Okay.” She dropped back down to her flat feet and stepped back from him. “I guess we could talk about it now.”
“My situation is complicated. Which is why I fought my attraction to you. I can’t get involved with someone. It’s not that easy. I need to focus on Delia’s happiness. She’s been through so much.”
Astrid walked over to the vanity and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her body. “Of course. I understand.”
But did she? Really? She didn’t know the harsh truths of his past, and he intended it to stay that way. “And then there’s work. You and I both know what the rumor mill is like in that office. If anyone gets wind of this, it’ll be all anyone talks about. You have a financial stake in the company and so does my sister. Can you see how this isn’t a great idea?”
Astrid’s face fell, but she very quickly forced a smile on her face. “Don’t take everything so seriously, Clay. This was just a little sex between friends. No big deal.”
“Are you sure?” Nothing in her expression matched her words.
“Yes. You worry too much. I’ve told you that before.” She patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll take a shower in my own bathroom.”
Clay swallowed hard, realizing w
hat he had just passed up. I’m either super smart or a complete idiot. “Ready to go in an hour?”
“I can do that.” She nodded and started for the door.
“Do you want me to call down to room service and order coffee? Maybe some pastries?” He was so pathetic, trying to ply her with sweets.
“It’s okay. I’m not hungry.” With that, she disappeared.
Clay sighed and walked into his bathroom, planting both hands on the vanity and staring at his own reflection. How had everything gone so upside down? Last night, he’d been on top of the world. And that wasn’t merely because of the award. Astrid had made him feel alive in ways he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
But his needs and wants weren’t what was most important. This was a question of priorities. He and Astrid had work to accomplish together. And Clay had a daughter and his heart to protect.
* * *
As soon as Astrid stepped out of Clay’s bedroom, she was confronted by too many reminders of last night. The champagne in the bucket, still not consumed and probably room temperature by now. Her diamond pendant on the table, the one that Johnathon had given her so many years ago. And last, there was Clay’s tux and her dress, intermingled on the floor. She might have had the time of her life last night, but now it was the next, very depressing day.
She gathered the necklace, her gown and her undies from the floor and carried them into her room, tossing them onto the still-made bed. She was angry, frustrated and confused, but she was not going to allow her hopes to be crushed by a man. She’d been through that routine hundreds of times during her marriage to Johnathon. It might be a well-worn path, but she was damned if she was going to get back on it. It didn’t matter that the man putting her on notice was Clay, and that she’d wanted him from the moment she’d met him. She’d had her taste and now he was taking that away. It was his choice. Now she needed to think about her own choices. What did she want? And how was she going to get it?
In the bathroom, she waited for a moment to let the shower heat up, then stepped inside. With multiple spray heads, the hot water hit her from all angles. She tried to think of it as therapeutic, washing away the remnants of last night. It had been unbelievably gratifying, both emotionally and physically, but it was over now. There would be no breathless kisses, sexy glances, or flirtation from Astrid. Clay had shut the door and she planned to go out of her way to stay on the other side. Instead, she needed to focus on the one thing she’d done so little of in her first thirty-two years on the planet—figuring out what she truly wanted. Love, family, and career had always been atop the list, and she couldn’t deny that those things made real sense in her heart and mind. It was simply time to redouble her efforts.
Clean and shampooed, Astrid shut off the water and climbed out of the shower, wrapping herself up in two of the hotel’s fluffy white towels. She took the hair dryer and aimed it at the mirror full-blast to clear the fog. As it receded, she watched her own face come into view. This was what she needed to do—focus on herself and clear away everything that was clouding her judgment. That meant pushing past her desire for Clay.
The trouble was that for the moment, her career goal of establishing herself as an indispensable part of the Sterling team was impossible to reach without Clay. The Seaport project was her most important, and every step of the way was dependent on him. She reminded herself that this wasn’t one a one-way proposition. There were two sides to this coin. He needed her, too—to stay on top of the hundreds of tiny details from the city and to keep to the schedule. She would do her job and he would do his. They would succeed together, but with professional distance. It was the only way.
She did not want to return to the dynamic of old, the one where she felt shut out by Clay and every day was a battle of wills. Yes, sex had probably made the next phase of their relationship even more complicated, but those were the cards they had to play with right now. Best to get on with it. Otherwise, she might need to consider other alternatives, like getting on a plane and returning to Norway. She wasn’t ready to claim defeat yet.
Clay checked them out while Astrid waited at the valet stand for them to bring his Bentley around. She stood there with her Chloé sunglasses on, staring straight ahead as a parade of expensive cars buzzed by on Sunset Boulevard, wishing she could wiggle her nose and teleport back to San Diego. She was dreading the ride home with Clay.
She slid the valet a generous tip and climbed into the passenger seat while he held the door for her. Clay strode out of the hotel moments later, managing to suck the breath right out of her. He was way too hot, too formidable, tall, and broad. The sight was loudly sounding echoes of last night in her head...his magnificent naked body weighing her down, taking her to new heights, and lavishing her with far more passion than she’d ever dared to imagine. Clay may have given her only one night, but it would be impossible to shake the memory fully. Selfishly, she didn’t want to. At least they’d managed to get on the same page for a few hours last night. They’d declared a truce in the most indelible way she could’ve imagined.
“All set?” Clay asked, fastening his seat belt.
“Yes.” Astrid looked straight ahead, unwilling to grant him so much as a smile or even a pleasant glance. She was done with being kind to Clay. Or at least done with going out of her way to offer niceties.
“Would you like to choose some music?” He handed over his phone.
She was tempted to send a message with her selection. Perhaps something desperately sexy and romantic, just to needle him? Or something raw and loud, to mirror the hurt he’d inflicted on her this morning with his preemptive rejection. After all, Astrid hadn’t asked for a single thing from him other than to shower together. He’d only assumed that she would want more than that.
She pressed Play on a pithy pop playlist she found in the app’s menu. If nothing else, it might wear on him the way his presence wore on her. As he drove, Clay occasionally offered a question or a comment, but otherwise stayed quiet. The purely platonic tone of everything he said was annoying—comments about the weather or traffic or work, but Astrid wasn’t about to change the subject. Clay had said his piece back at the hotel—they were colleagues and nothing else. The sooner she got used to this, the better.
As they approached San Diego, Clay seemed to get antsy, fidgeting in his seat.
“Need a bathroom break?” Astrid asked.
His shoulders dropped and he shot her a look. “No. I’m just eager to see my daughter. I’m about to drive past the exit for Miranda’s on my way to your place.”
“Go get her. Please don’t wait on my account. Trust me, I have nowhere I need to be.” Absolutely nowhere.
“Are you sure?”
“I would love to meet your daughter. And I always enjoy seeing Miranda.” Astrid couldn’t ignore what this all meant—it was only after he’d laid down the law that he’d actually considered letting her meet his daughter.
Clay immediately flipped his signal and zipped down the off-ramp to head to Miranda’s house. Astrid didn’t need yet another thing to admire about Clay. In fact, she was wishing for things to dislike about him, but his frantic desire to see his daughter was nothing short of endearing. Damn him.
Minutes later, they were pulling up in front of Miranda’s house, the one she had once shared with Johnathon. Clay had hardly killed the engine before he climbed out of the car and let his long legs carry him to the front door. Astrid wasn’t sure what her role was in all of this, and Clay’s previous touchiness about Delia made her think it was best if she hung back. If a man was going to be protective of his child, Astrid was not about to stand in the way of that.
Miranda answered the door and caught sight of Astrid, waving to her and casting a smile. Then she disappeared back inside with Clay, leaving the door open. Astrid’s stomach twisted with guilt at the secret she was still carrying around, the one about Astrid’s tryst with Johnathon when she h
adn’t realized he had a new love in his life, a woman who just happened to be Miranda. Astrid told herself this was another reason to be glad Clay had set boundaries between them. If the secret came out and Clay learned what had happened, he would never forgive Astrid, even if she had her reasons for keeping it to herself.
Astrid took her time getting to the front door, wanting to afford Clay and his daughter the happy reunion he’d been so eager to have. But when she walked inside the house, she realized she wasn’t quite prepared for what it would be like to see this strong man wrapped around the finger of a tiny girl. He had Delia in his arms, her long dark hair flowing in ribbons as he twirled her in a circle.
“Did you miss me?” he asked, using the same nearly unrecognizable tone he’d taken on the phone that morning.
Delia narrowed her eyes on her father’s face in much the same way he did at work when he was annoyed by a question Astrid was stupid enough to ask. “Daddy, I told you I did on the phone. Remember?”
“Okay. Okay. I just like hearing it.” He pushed her hair back from her face and kissed her cheek. Astrid, still keeping her distance, felt as though her heart was being squeezed tight. Clay was such a different man when he let down his guard. She’d seen it last night and she was witnessing it now that he was around Delia. It was hard to believe he was the same gruff guy she had battled with at work.
Miranda approached the pair and placed her hand on her brother’s back. “She did miss you, but not as much as you probably hoped. We had way too much fun.”
“We swam in Aunt Miranda’s pool and we colored and watched movies and had popcorn.”
Clay glanced at Miranda over his shoulder. “Let me guess. You watched The Snow Princess.”
“Only three times,” Miranda answered.
Delia wriggled her way out of her father’s arms and pointed at Astrid. “Who are you?”
