Daring in the Dark

by Jennifer Labrecque

  “If I wasn’t so beat, I’d try to seduce you into sweaty, nasty, on-the-floor, banging-my-head-against-the-wall sex,” she said.

  He quirked an eyebrow at her over his shoulder and she laughed softly. His expression was part hopeful and part weary disbelief. She shook her head. “It’s a shame to waste the moment when you’re all naked and—” she eyed his tight, bare buns “—well, naked. But I’m just too tired.”

  He laughed and stepped over his piled clothes to take her hand. “I may have to burn these clothes when I get home.”

  He led her to the shower. She didn’t want to think about him going home. She didn’t want the magic of the night to end. “I don’t know about burning them…maybe just a fumigation.”

  She stepped beneath the shower’s icy spray. The cold water felt delicious against her sticky, sweaty skin. An easy silence encompassed them as she and Simon alternated turns beneath the spray. When she’d shampooed and scrubbed every inch of herself and Simon had done the same, she turned the water off.

  She swayed on her feet. Now clean and cool, she gave in to the fatigue weighing her limbs and numbing her mind.

  “Hold on.” Simon grabbed her towel off the hook and gently began to dry her.

  “I can do that,” she protested, but she made no move to take the towel from him.

  “Of course you can,” he agreed. He reached around her and blotted the water from her back. She gave into temptation and rested her head against his strong shoulder.

  “Hold on just a little bit longer,” he said. He straightened and toweled her arms, chest and belly.

  She stared, fascinated by the water clinging to his dark lashes and the drops caught in the stubble darkening his jaw.

  “Mmm.” It was nice to be coddled. “Believe it or not, I require more than an hour of sleep.”

  Simon chuckled as he knelt to dry her legs. The faint candlelight danced along the ripple of muscles in his shoulders, reflected off the sheen of moisture along the lean line of his back. He straightened, draped the towel over her wet hair and started doing some wonderful massage thing to her head. She groaned aloud.

  “You’ve got to stop doing that or I’m going to fall asleep standing up.”

  He settled the towel around her shoulders and grinned. “That wouldn’t be good.”

  He grabbed the other towel and made quick work of drying himself off while she stood there and watched like zombie-girl in la-la land. Simon stepped out of the tub. Before she knew what he was about, he placed one arm behind her shoulders, the other beneath her knees and scooped her up. His bare skin was cool and clean next to hers.

  She should protest. Too heavy. Not necessary. But exhaustion muted her. Instead she linked her arms around his neck and pillowed her cheek against his chest, inhaling the scent of soap and Simon. The steady rhythm of his heart played like a lullaby beneath her cheek. Supported by his arms, his skin against hers, surrounded by his scent, she gave herself over to sleep….

  12

  SIMON WATCHED TAWNY SLEEP, the sun slanting across her buttocks and legs, her arm flung over her face, her hair an auburn skein across her pillow.

  He rolled out of bed and padded into the bathroom. He pulled on his underwear and jeans. Walking around naked last night had been one thing but quite another this morning. The night’s magic had vanished with the dawn.He retrieved his camera and adjusted for the bright light streaming into the room. Neither of them had thought to pull the blinds when they’d stumbled into bed four short hours ago. She lay partially illuminated and partially in shadow. He took several photos, caught up in the play of sunlight over her skin. Retreating once again behind the safety of his camera.

  She blinked her eyes open and smiled sleepily at him, and his pulse quickened. She eyed his camera. “Please tell me you aren’t taking photos of me with bed head and no makeup.”

  She was a quixotic woman—undeterred by her nudity but worried about her lack of makeup. “You look beautiful,” he said without thinking. And she did, with her hair tangled about her shoulders and her eyes soft and heavy-lidded with sleep.

  “Right.” She held a hand up between herself and the camera. “No more early-morning shots. Please.”

  “Okay.” She did truly look beautiful, but she’d be self-conscious now. He walked over to the window and looked out at the city, offering her a moment of privacy without actually leaving the room.

  The mattress creaked, announcing she was up. He heard her pad out of the room and the protesting squawk of the bathroom door.

  Once again people crowded the street below, but very few cars were about. He fired off a few shots without any real interest. His heart wasn’t in photographing the scene before him.

  He heard the door squawk again and she walked back into the room.

  “Thanks for going with me to the hospital last night,” he said without turning around. They’d both been too tired to talk through anything earlier.

  She opened and closed a dresser drawer. “I’m glad I got to meet your parents. What a relief your mom’s okay.”

  “Yeah. It is.” Simon winced inside. This was a bad case of morning-afteritis. They both sounded like characters in a poorly scripted play.

  “I liked them better than I thought I would,” she said, her voice muffled by the closet.

  “They were…different.” And that was an understatement. It was so typical that their decision to participate in his life revolved around their needs. They hadn’t reached out to him because they were proud of him, or because they’d realized they’d missed out on knowing a great human being. No. They were feeling their mortality, their vulnerability, so he was their backup. Simon still played second fiddle to their agenda. And he didn’t trust any of it. Now that his mum was fine, he fully expected they’d return to their insular world of two. “They certainly liked you.”

  “I tried not to be too unleashed for them.” She peered around him to the street below.

  Her hair brushed against his arm, her scent surrounded him and the urge to take her in his arms was almost unbearable, but the night’s madness had ended.

  “You charmed them,” he said, stepping back from the window, away from her.

  “Hah! They would’ve been thrilled with anyone who would’ve saved you from being—what was it?—a poofter.”

  Despite the heaviness of his heart and the general awkwardness dancing between them, Simon laughed. “Right. That was rich, wasn’t it? If I’ve never brought a woman to meet them, therefore I must be gay. Face it, Tawny, you charm everyone.”

  “Hah! Don’t forget about Mrs. Hinky. And I can guarantee you I didn’t charm Richard.”

  “You and Richard got off to a less than stellar start.” Bloody understatement. “You’re square with Elliott?” Simon asked. He needed to make sure before he left.

  “We’re good. I’ve got closure, so I can forego the Prozac,” she said, smiling. “And you guys kissed and made up?”

  Simon shrugged. “We skipped the kiss—I didn’t fancy Richard scratching my eyes out—but we’re okay.” He was making stupid, awkward jokes—definitely time for him to leave. He started toward the door and she stepped in front of him, stopping him.

  She placed her hands on his bare chest, and his skin felt on fire. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Simon, I want you to know last night was the best night of my life.”

  He stepped back, away from her touch. “That’s an unusual reaction to a broken engagement.”

  She dropped her hands to her side. Her look chastised him. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You were the best part of last night.”

  “I’m flattered.” And he was, but one of them had to be sensible. He walked out of the room. His camera case was still by the front door. It wasn’t the pitch-black of last night, but a dark gloom curtained the room after the bright sunlight of the bedroom.

  Undeterred, she followed him. “I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m being honest. Remember last night, when your father t
old your mother it was ‘like that’ between the two of us?”

  He picked up his camera case without looking at her. “Yes. And I’m sorry that happened. I didn’t want to upset her when she’d had a heart attack.”

  “I’m not sorry it happened. When he said that, well, I realized he had half of it right.”

  He snapped his head up. Had she guessed he was head over heels in love with her? “What do you mean?”

  “I realized it is that way for me,” she said, her voice soft in the shadowed room.

  Simon clamped down on the ache inside him. She’d been raw and vulnerable last night. She’d very likely feel the same about any other guy who’d stepped in and treated her with any measure of decency. “No. Tawny, last night was extenuating circumstances. You were emotionally overwrought. Don’t confuse the circumstances of the night with me.”

  “Are you implying I don’t know how I feel?” This time her soft tone heralded an impending storm. But what he had to say needed to be said.

  He’d already taken advantage of her to some extent last night. He’d be a total jerk to let her run with this now. And if he told her how he felt about her? Tomorrow or next week or perhaps next month, she’d realize how flawed he was, she’d see the darkness in him and he’d see the loathing in her eyes. It was far better this way.

  “Last night was an emotional roller coaster for you. Give it a couple of days and it’ll just be the night the lights went out in the big city.”

  “Don’t you dare patronize me.”

  “I’m just being rational. One of us has to be.” He knew the instant it left his mouth that was the wrong thing to say.

  “Tell me I did not just hear you say that, Simon Thackeray.”

  He simply wanted her to see what was painfully apparent to him. Last night had been a space out of time. If she’d just be rational, she’d see that today it was back to the norm. But then again, maybe she couldn’t be right now. Maybe it was that hormonally challenged time of the month.

  “Are you maybe getting ready to start?”

  “To start what?”

  “You know…are you PMSing?” he asked.

  The cat yowled from the other room.

  “Luckily for you, I’m not. If I were, you’d probably be a dead man by now.” She stomped into the kitchen. He heard her shaking cat food into the bowl as he walked past. He picked up his shirt, socks and boots. He pulled on his shirt. He sat on the edge of the sofa to put on his socks and boots. She came back out of the kitchen and lit a couple of candles without speaking.

  “Listen, it’s no wonder you’re not thinking clearly, with Elliott coming out of the closet, the blackout, being dragged out to the hospital in the middle of the night. It’s hotter than hell and you haven’t had much sleep,” he said, lacing his boot.

  “That may all be well and true, but I have enough God-given sense to know how I feel.”

  “You’ll see everything differently once the power’s back on. A cool room, a hot shower, a decent meal and a good night’s rest will make a world of difference.”

  She planted her hands on her hips, the heat and her temper obviously getting the best of her. “All the electricity in the world isn’t going to change the fact that I love you, you arrogant…” She petered out, clamping her mouth tightly shut.

  “No.” He closed his eyes for just a second. “You and I both know you can’t possibly love me. You don’t go from being engaged to one man to being in love with another in less than twenty-four hours.” And certainly not him, not the real him in the light of day instead of some romanticized version she’d created based on last night.

  She raised her chin defiantly. “Stranger things have happened. For some people it’s love at first sight.”

  “I know.” He’d taken one look at her and he’d known. But she hadn’t taken one look at him and fallen in love with him. He’d simply cushioned the impact of Elliott’s betrayal.

  Some of her ire vanished. “Oh, God. I got so caught up… I’m sorry I threw myself at you. I forgot that you have someone.”

  He shook his head. “There is someone, but…Some of us were meant to be alone.”

  “No. I don’t believe that. You’re wonderful and tender and…I refuse to believe you were meant to be alone. If you really love her, go to her, Simon. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

  Perfect case in point that she was still overwrought and emotionally unstable. “Make up your mind, Tawny. If you love me the way you say you do, why are you sending me to someone else?”

  She gentled her hand against his cheek, her eyes shadowed with a sadness that lanced him. “Because I can’t make you love me if you don’t. And pride’s just a thing. I’m not ashamed that I’ve fallen in love with you. I got exactly what I wished for. This is definitely a stiletto kind of love.” She lowered her hand and offered a half-hearted smile. “This is hard, Simon. Tenacity’s always gotten me a long way. I’ve managed to get almost everything I’ve ever wanted by cajoling or nagging. I know that about myself. But unfortunately I can’t bulldog you into loving me. But that’s why we’re here. It’s part of our purpose in life, to love and to be loved. So if you’re in love with this woman, you’ve got to let her know. I’m not some psycho who wants you to be miserable and alone just because you don’t want me. I want you to be happy.”

  She only thought she loved him. He knew it just wasn’t possible. “Tawny, you’re very special….”

  She shook her head and held up a hand to stop him. “I don’t think I can listen to you fill me in on my attributes. And before you go there, let me say I can’t feel the way I do about you and be friends.”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t think we can be friends. It was a great night and you’re a wonderful person, but you had it right last night when you said our paths were unlikely to cross again. You’ll make some lucky guy very happy one day….”

  She averted her face, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold, despite the sweltering heat. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  Simon slung his camera case over his shoulder. “I’ll drop the photos in the mail when I finish developing them. Give me a couple of days.”

  She walked to the door and threw the dead bolt. “Send me a bill with them.”

  “No. We discussed that up front. No bill.”

  “If you don’t bill me, then I owe you a party. It’d be neater and tidier if you’d just invoice me.” She raised her chin a notch, daring him to argue with her.

  “I hope you find the man of your dreams, Tawny.”

  She looked him dead in the eye. “I did.”

  He walked out the door and closed it behind him. She was wrong. And one day she’d thank him for this.

  TAWNY’S CELL PHONE RANG. For one heart-stopping moment she thought it might be Simon. She hoped he’d decided that last night was something special, that whatever it was between them was something special. Nope. Elliott’s number flashed on the display.

  “Hi, Elliott.”“Tawny, is Simon still there?”

  “No. Try him on his cell,” she said. Why hadn’t he just called Simon in the first place? She didn’t have time to play operator. She was too busy being miserable.

  “I don’t need to talk to him. I just wondered if he was there. I need to come over.” Excitement tinged his voice. She wasn’t up for any of Elliott’s drama.

  “I don’t think so, Elliott. This is bad timing. I’m just not up to it.”

  “I’ve got something you need to see.” He sounded practically aquiver.

  She was too lethargic and generally miserable to argue with him. Elliott, the self-absorbed, probably wanted to show her a promise ring he’d designed for Richard or something equally inane. “Whatever. Come on over.”

  “Can I bring Richard?”

  At least he’d asked permission. “Are the two of you joined at the hip now?”

  Elliott laughed. “Naughty, naughty, Tawny.”

  Ugh. Poor choice of words. “Forget I sai
d that. Come over whenever.”

  She kept herself busy tidying up her apartment and tidying herself up until Elliott arrived with Richard in tow. She might be rejected and dejected, but she didn’t have to look like a hag or live like a slob.

  Elliott and Richard arrived bearing iced Frappuccinos and half a dozen bagels with cream cheese and a side of lox from Abrusco’s. Caffeine was good. Food was better.

  She took the proffered food and placed it on the chest between the sofa and chair.

  “Abrusco’s was Richard’s idea,” Elliott said. Obviously he wanted her to like Richard. She wasn’t sure she’d ever like him, but she’d aim for civility. “Thanks.”

  “There’s a raisin-and-cinnamon with your name on it in there,” Richard said.

  “My favorite. Thanks again.” She dug out the bagel and smothered it with fattening cream cheese. The better to blimp up with. She bit into it. Even a day old and unheated it was delicious.

  “Don’t you want to know what it is Richard and I have to show you?” Elliott asked, pulling out an onion bagel.

  “Elliott, this better be really good because I’m just not much in the mood.” Bagels or not.

  “Let me guess.” He smeared lox over an onion bagel—now Richard could endure onion-and-lox breath. “You told Simon how you felt, he rationalized everything for you and then he left.”

  “How’d you know? Did you talk to him?”

  She’d rather have this conversation without Richard, but really it didn’t matter. And he’d been quiet. Not nearly as offensive this morning as he had been last night. Of course, she hadn’t sniped at him either.

  “I didn’t have to talk to him. We’ve been friends for a long time.” He gestured toward her with a plastic knife. “I told you you’d have to fight for him.”

  She felt empty inside. “I can’t make him love me if he doesn’t.”

  “If he loved you, would you fight for him?”