Melanie hesitated. It didn’t seem right to abandon her friend now. “Will you be all right?”
Becky gave her a brave smile. “Aren’t I always? It’s not like this will be the first New Year’s Eve I’ve ever spent alone.”
“Don’t spend it alone,” Melanie urged her. “Promise me you’ll call someone, go out to dinner, go to a movie, something. Do not stay at home and cry over Jason the jerk.”
Becky squared her shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ve shed my last tears over him.” Her expression brightened. “In fact, I think I’ll go home right now and take a pair of scissors to all those expensive designer shirts of his.”
“There you go,” Melanie said. “He deserves that and more.”
Becky’s good mood promptly deflated. “Of course, that’s probably just what he expects me to do. That’s probably one more reason he was buying shirts on sale today.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Melanie said. “You’ll still feel better once you’ve savored a little revenge. Just remember how he loves his wardrobe. I always thought there was something a little weird about that. The man spent more on clothes than we do.”
Becky yanked open a drawer in her desk and pulled out a pair of lethal-looking scissors. “These are sharper than the ones I have at home,” she said gleefully as she tucked them into her purse.
“Have fun,” Melanie called after her.
Becky was barely out the door when Richard came in.
“You’re not ready,” he guessed after surveying the room for any evidence of a suitcase.
“Sorry. We had a crisis around here.”
“I assume that’s why Becky went charging past me with a somewhat maniacal glint in her eyes.”
Melanie grinned. “She’s on the warpath.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“His life’s not in danger, is it?”
“Nope. Just his wardrobe.”
Richard chuckled. “Remind me never to make you angry.”
Melanie patted his cheek. “You make me furious all the time,” she reminded him. “So far, though, your clothes are safe.”
“Too bad. I was rather looking forward to having you rip them off of me.”
Melanie gave him a considering look. “An interesting idea. I’ll give it some thought on the way to the cottage.”
“Don’t think out loud,” he warned. “I’d hate to have to stop at one of those less-than-stellar motels on the way down.”
“No chance of that. I’m going to be enjoying testing your patience too much.”
Richard’s patience was hanging by a thread by the time they finally got to the cottage. If there was any clothes ripping to be done, he was likely to be the one doing it. He was still a bit surprised that his restraint was as strong as it evidently was.
“Do you want me to make a fire?” he asked when they’d carried everything inside, including several bags of gourmet food he’d brought from home and their luggage. For the first time in recent memory, his laptop computer wasn’t among the possessions he’d brought along. A rather impressive, unopened box of condoms was.
Melanie met his gaze. “A fire would be romantic,” she said, then grinned. “But it would take too long. Maybe later.”
“Dinner?” he asked, his voice oddly choked.
She took a step closer, letting her coat fall from her shoulders into a heap on the floor. “Later.”
“Wine?”
She shook her head, her gaze locked with his. “Uh-uh. I’m already a little giddy.” She reached for the top button on his shirt. “You’re a little too prim and proper for the setting.”
His gaze narrowed. “Are you really sure you want to start this right here, right now?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said fervently.
“I haven’t even turned the heat up.”
“We won’t need it,” she said confidently.
He grinned finally. “Well, then, I guess one of us has her priorities all sorted out.”
“For the short term,” she agreed.
The phrase hit Richard like a slap, reminding him that he was treading on very thin ice. Neither of them had said a thing about permanency. This was an experiment, at least in her eyes. He’d done nothing to suggest otherwise.
“Then let’s make it memorable,” he said, pulling her into his arms and settling his mouth on hers.
This time there was no holding back. There was nothing tentative or uncertain or exploratory about the kiss. They both already knew that a kiss had the power to stir them.
Melanie was restless in his embrace when he scooped her up and headed for the stairs.
“Where are we going?” she murmured against his lips.
“To bed,” he told her. “I can forget about the fire, the food and the wine, but I am not going to make love to you for the first time in the middle of the living room floor.”
She grinned. “Afraid of a little rug burn?”
He heard the laughing challenge in her voice. “No, just determined to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
Her eyes turned dreamy. “Sometimes you say the sweetest things.”
“Sometimes you inspire me,” he admitted as he strode into his bedroom. It was like an icebox, making him regret his decision not to bother just yet with turning up the heat. “I really think I should run back downstairs and kick up the furnace.”
Melanie slid her hand inside his shirt, then slipped lower till her fingers were grazing the bare skin just below his waist. “Still cold?” she inquired.
“As a matter of fact,” he began, only to moan as her deft fingers slipped a little lower. “Okay, now I’m hot.”
“Told you,” she said gleefully.
He met her gaze, his expression suddenly serious. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve thought about this?”
“You think too much,” she responded, still exploring his body in a way she had to know was likely to drive him mad.
Richard swallowed hard, trying to maintain some control. “In other words, you’d prefer action?”
“At the moment, most definitely.”
He nodded. “Okay, then. I was taught to always defer to a lady’s wishes, at least in a situation like this.”
“Who taught you that? Destiny?”
“No, Mack. He has a very successful track record.”
“What did Destiny tell you when she taught you about the birds and the bees?”
“That sex is always better when you’re in love,” he said quietly, his gaze on her face.
Melanie’s eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite fathom. He was getting better at reading her, but this was something new. Something tender. It gave him hope.
He wasn’t certain enough of his footing here, though, to say the rest of what was in his heart, that this was the very first time he’d put that theory about sex and love to the test.
The game had just taken a serious turn. Melanie felt the shift somewhere deep inside and it terrified her. She’d come down here because she’d lost the last shred of willpower and sense she possessed. She wanted whatever this trip would bring. She wanted memories to savor and cling to on the lonely nights in the future when Richard was out of her life again.
That day would come eventually. She had no doubts about that. He was obviously attracted to her, but chemistry was a transitory thing. Eventually he’d remember that she drove him nuts and they would stage their breakup. That would be that. It was what they’d agreed to, and Richard was known for not going back on his word. It was one of his most admirable qualities. Even her own preliminary press releases said so.
At least the certainty of a breakup was what she’d been counting on until about five seconds ago, when the look in Richard’s eyes had been so filled with heat and emotion that it had shaken her. Until now she’d had very little at stake. In fact, she’d believed the only real thing she could lose was an important consulting contract, which was why she’d tossed that aside earlier. It no longer complicated ma
tters, and recent weeks had proved to her that her professional ideas and strategies had real worth. She would find other clients. She’d felt relieved the minute she’d quit the consulting job.
Now it was all personal. It all mattered. This heat between them, the growing respect they had for each other, her delight in Destiny and the rest of Richard’s family—all that had caught her off guard. She was flat out in love with Richard, but she’d learned once before that she couldn’t trust herself to accurately assess what a man was feeling. She’d been burned too badly last time.
Play it light. Pretend none of it matters. Those were the lessons she’d learned in her last disastrous relationship. She had to remember that now. She had to protect her heart at all costs. Until and unless Richard said something about calling off their fake engagement, until he suggested making it real instead, she had to operate under the belief that nothing had changed beyond their admission that the attraction between them was too hot to ignore.
“Why so serious?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze intense.
“I just got lost in thought for a minute,” she said. She forced an impish grin. “Where were we?”
He took her hand, kissed the palm, then placed it low on his belly. “Right about here, as I recall.” He gazed deep into her eyes. “And wandering.”
“Ah, yes,” she said, giving herself up to sensation again, thrilling to each touch she initiated, loving that he seemed willing to let her be in charge.
Richard’s gasp was audible when she ventured further, discovering his body in all its masculine splendor. A glint in his eyes, he suddenly flipped her on her back and began deftly undoing buttons and snaps, until she was naked beneath him. The shift in power left her breathless and wanting more.
“Let me see if I understand the agenda you have in mind,” he said, slowly working his way down her body.
Slow, exploratory caresses were followed by long, lingering kisses until she was writhing restlessly. There was definitely no need for external heat now. She was on fire from the inside out, a demanding, relentless fire that only he could quench. She could lose herself in flames like this.
“How long do you plan on tormenting me?” she asked, wanting him buried inside her, needing that connection, that fullness as his body stretched hers.
“A bit longer,” he said with another teasing stroke that was almost her undoing. “Let it go, Melanie.”
She shook her head, stubborn even at a moment like this. “Not without you.”
His gaze stayed on her face. “Please,” he said quietly, touching her intimately, tormenting her until control was out of question.
It was the quiet plea that did it. Spasms rocked through her, delicious, unexpected sensations that should have satisfied, but made her crave more.
His look was smug, too smug. It drove her to drastic measures.
“You don’t get to control everything,” she said, fighting a grin as she executed a move she’d learned in a self-defense class that had Richard under her, shock in his eyes. The move wasn’t quite as smooth as it had been in class, but it got the job done.
“Where the devil did you learn to do that?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s just important that you know that I can do it.” She tried to fight a satisfied grin of her own and lost. She’d never expected those time-consuming lessons to pay off in quite this way. “Now, then, tell me what you’d like me to do.”
He reached up and captured her face with his hands, then drew her mouth down to his. “This,” he murmured against her lips. “Just this.”
“That’s all?”
“And this.”
He lifted her hips, then settled her again, filling her just the way she’d imagined. He held her steady, back in control, his gaze locked with hers. Melanie felt as if they were at war, but if this went the way she expected, they’d both win.
At last, he moved, thrusting up slowly, surely, then withdrawing until she had to bite her lip to keep from pleading with him.
Then there was no more question of control. They were both lost to sensation, slick and hot, hard and demanding, spiraling closer and closer to that elusive release.
When it came at last, it was shattering, leaving her weak and spent and filled with so much emotion she was scared to look into his eyes for fear he would see the truth—that she loved him beyond measure. She wasn’t sure it was a truth either of them could live with.
Chapter Fourteen
It was nearly midnight when Richard crept out of bed and went downstairs to turn up the heat. Even with Melanie snuggled close, the frigid air in the room was beginning to penetrate all the way through to his bones.
Tonight had been a revelation. He’d never had a woman give to him so completely, so unselfishly, so enthusiastically. There was no question in his mind that Melanie was after his money or his power. She’d had access to both and had turned them down, seemingly without a backward glance. He believed with all his heart that her feelings were personal, and that was what he’d waited a lifetime to find without even realizing how desperately he wanted it.
So why was he still holding back? Why hadn’t he told her what was in his heart, even though she hadn’t said what was in hers? Was he such a coward that he feared rejection? He hated admitting it, but that was exactly it.
He could go into an election a few months from now and face rejection by the voters without batting an eye, but he was terrified of opening his heart to Melanie, only to discover that she intended to stick by the original rules and walk away. He knew too well what that kind of devastating loss felt like. True, his parents hadn’t chosen to die and leave him and his brothers, but the effect had been traumatic just the same. If Melanie chose to go, it would be even worse. He knew that a man never completely recovered from a loss like that. His cowardice now was proof of that.
While he was downstairs, he took the food they’d brought with them from its freezer chest and put it into the refrigerator. Thankfully, it was still cold.
Then he flipped on a single light over the counter, brewed a pot of decaf coffee and sat down at the kitchen table to think. He thought about all the times Destiny had told him that he couldn’t let his parents’ deaths scare him away from love.
“Protecting your heart is self-defeating,” she told him on a dark night when he’d awakened from a childhood nightmare in which he’d relived the loss of his parents. “At the end of the day you’re just as lonely as if you’d loved and lost.”
Richard had nodded his understanding, but the truth was he hadn’t believed her. Surely nothing could be as painful as the void left when someone went away forever.
“You believe I love you, don’t you?” she’d persisted.
He had nodded again, accepting the truth of that. She had been a steady, solid presence in his life from the day she’d breezed back from France and said she intended to stay and take care of him and his brothers. He trusted her—loved her—as he did few people, but there was a part of his heart he held back, protected. Slowly but surely he’d shielded himself from feeling anything for anyone.
“Are you scared I’ll leave? Or that I’ll die?”
Unable to voice such a terrible fear aloud, he’d merely nodded acknowledgment of that, too.
“Oh, sweetie, I will never leave,” Destiny had vowed to him time and again. “It’s true that I might die. We all do one day. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t love each other. Instead we should be grateful for every minute we have together. Life is meant to be lived. If I haven’t taught you the importance of seizing the moment, of taking chances, of loving someone with everything that’s in you, then I’ve failed you.”
She’d tried so valiantly to instill that lesson in him—in all of them—yet Richard had been resistant. So had Mack and Ben in their own ways. Mack had filled his life with meaningless affairs. Ben had loved well but not wisely, and the pain of that loss had cemented all of his old fears. Richard wondered if Ben would ever open his heart again.
<
br /> Richard had never risked anything at all. Until Melanie had come along, he’d been certain all his determined efforts to protect his heart had been successful. He’d believed he was completely incapable of real emotion.
He was on his second cup of coffee and still brooding when he heard Melanie’s footsteps on the stairs. His pulse kicked up in anticipation, oblivious to all those old fears that had been tormenting him once more in the dark of night.
She wandered into the dimly lit kitchen wearing his shirt and looking sexily rumpled. “I missed you,” she said sleepily, crossing the room and snuggling onto his lap in a totally trusting way that made his heart and his body ache.
Richard’s arms went around her automatically. Instantly he was all too aware of her bare thighs against his own, of her bare bottom intimately pressed against his boxers. Whatever faint hope he’d held of regaining his equilibrium with her flew out the window.
“I came down to turn up the heat,” he murmured against her ear, drinking in the faint scent of perfume that lingered on her skin.
“You should have turned up my heat,” she said lightly.
He grinned at the saucy suggestion. “Now why didn’t I think of that? Is it too late?” He skimmed a caress over her breast, saw the tip bead under the soft cotton of his shirt.
“We might be able to work something out,” she teased. “But first you have to feed me. I’m starved.”
“So many appetites,” he said with amusement. “Are you absolutely certain food is what you want first?”
A gleam lit her eyes as his touch wandered. “You’re making it very difficult, but yes. I want sustenance.”
“Dinner? Breakfast? A sandwich?”
She moaned. “Don’t make me think. I’m half-asleep. Surprise me.”
“An intriguing notion,” Richard said. “You going to let me stand up, or am I expected to manage a meal while holding you?”
She stretched—yet another torment—then rose slowly and moved to another chair. She immediately put her tousled head down on her arms on the table. For all Richard could tell, she went straight back to sleep. His gaze seemed to lock on the nape of her neck. He wondered how she would taste there. It was one of the few places he hadn’t sampled earlier.
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