Charade

by Lori Foster

  But Tyler wasn’t giving her a chance to question him. He was too busy pressing her.

  “Tell me who you are.” He sounded more annoyed than ever.

  “No! I just...wanted to talk to you. To ask...”

  “Ask me what?”

  Surprised, Carlie accused softly, “You’re angry.”

  “No, I’m frustrated. I don’t like games. You’re a grown woman. I understand what happened between us was unexpected. You couldn’t have been any more surprised than I was. But it’s too late to change things now.” Then, very persuasively, “Tell me who you are.”

  Carlie shook her head, as tears gathered in her eyes. If only she could. “No.”

  “Dammit!”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Please. Don’t be angry.” There was a tremor in her voice, and Tyler reacted to it.

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded almost weary. “We can talk. That’s why you called, isn’t it?”

  Carlie was afraid to speak again. This was a stupid idea. She should hang up now before he figured out who she was.

  He said again, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Maybe you should just forget...”

  “Not without knowing.”

  Those words, said so sincerely, washed over her. Her heart ached. If he wouldn’t forget, then she would have to stay away from him entirely. She drew a deep breath, calming herself. “Why?”

  It was Tyler’s turn to be thoughtfully silent. “It was different. You were different. More intense. It didn’t seem like just sex.”

  “No.” It had been more, at least for her.

  “You felt it, too?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  “I want to meet you. I want to know who you are. Stop playing games.”

  “It’s...it’s not a game,” she said. “You would be angry...”

  “I’m angry now! This isn’t the eighth grade, dammit!”

  Carlie jumped at his raised voice. He’d unconsciously repeated her defense. It seemed like a betrayal. “Aren’t you seeing anyone else?”

  She hadn’t meant to ask that. This wasn’t a test he had to pass. She’d only wanted to understand why he was so determined to find her. But it was too late to call back the words.

  She could feel his frustration, it was so keen. His reply, when it came, was carefully modulated, the words exact. “I’m not intimate with anyone right now, if that’s what you mean.”

  “I see.”

  “How could you, when I don’t? I hate this!” He growled in frustration. “I don’t want anything from you! But I hate knowing you might pass me on the street, and I wouldn’t even know it. I hate that you have intimate knowledge of me, but I don’t even know your name.”

  Carlie trembled. She hadn’t thought of it that way, how it would be for him. She was very sorry. “Tyler, please...”

  “You’ll see me somewhere and remember. While I’m saying hello, how do you do, you’ll be thinking of how it feels to climax with me deep inside you.”

  His words were harsh now, deliberately taunting, baiting her. He was being ugly, and even while she understood his frustration, she hated it. “Stop. Please.”

  “Tell me who you are, dammit.”

  “I can’t.” The words were rushed, husky with need. Carlie had to get them out before she did or said something she’d later regret. “It’s impossible. I’m so sorry.” Then she added in a tiny whisper, “You were wonderful, Tyler.”

  “Don’t hang up...!”

  Very gently, Carlie laid the receiver in the cradle, then curled onto her side. It had been a mistake to call him. She had to stop torturing herself and Tyler. Her heart ached with her decision.

  He was right. She was behaving like a teenager with a sorry crush on the captain of the football team. She was leaving him to wonder about a woman who didn’t exist. On Friday, when he came over again, she’d tell him. She wouldn’t take the coward’s way out by sending him a letter or giving her explanation and then running. It would be face-to-face, and she would accept his anger, for he would surely be enraged.

  Carlie found sleep impossible that night. She pondered a thousand different ways Tyler might react. But it all came down to one final, irrevocable conclusion.

  She had lost him, when she’d never really had him in the first place. And until now, she hadn’t fully realized how badly she wanted him.

  Chapter Eight

  TYLER SET THE pizza on the table, then turned to Carlie. She’d been quiet, too damned quiet, all day. He caught her as she walked by to set the table.

  He pulled her into his arms. She was more rigid than usual. “I missed you, Carlie. How about a hug?”

  Her arms remained at her sides, and she looked beyond him. He was stymied. “What is it? Are you mad at me about something?”

  “No, I’m not mad.”

  “Then what is it?” He bent to look into her eyes. “You can at least give me a hug, can’t you?”

  She did as he asked, but it was a measly effort at best. Tyler let his hands drift down her back, and realized suddenly that it was the first time he’d ever done so. Her back was narrow, her flesh firm, and her waist tapered in. His hands started to explore there, but she pulled away. He touched her chin, seeking her eyes again. “What is it?”

  “We need to talk.” She peered up at him, her eyebrows lowered in a nervous frown, and shook her head. “But later, after we eat.”

  “Ah, intrigue. You don’t have to work at keeping my interest, you know. I’m already caught.”

  Carlie slapped a huge piece of pizza onto his plate, splattering tomato sauce over the table.

  Tyler raised his eyebrows. “You are entertaining, Carlie. When we don’t have practice, I have nothing to look forward to at the end of the day. I think of you, though.”

  Carlie stopped in the middle of pouring the wine. She turned to Tyler, her expression serious. “Why?”

  “What do you mean, ‘why?’ I like you.”

  “But why, Tyler? What is it about me that you like?”

  He considered her question with grave seriousness. She was being very sober. His answer obviously mattered a great deal to her. The first thing that came to his mind was her honesty. “I can trust you. You don’t play games, and I don’t think you would ever lie to me. You’re straightforward and genuine, blunt to a fault. I’ve never known a woman like you before.”

  Carlie looked stricken, which wasn’t the reaction he had expected. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away. He walked up behind her and wrapped her in his arms, holding her close despite her stiffness. He still felt frustrated and angry over his mysterious phone call, and now, with Carlie seeming so intent on separating herself from him, he actually felt needy. It wasn’t a feeling he enjoyed.

  “Carlie, talk to me. I don’t like this. I’m used to you giving me hell and making me laugh and then making me so hot I can’t breathe. I’m not used to this silence, sweetheart.”

  She turned abruptly, throwing her arms tight around him and he groaned in relief. His arms were around her middle, and it registered, rather abruptly, that she was actually slim. She was wearing her usual basketball clothes that consisted of baggy sweats, and since the day was cooler, she was layered under several pieces. But his hands were stroking up and down her ribs, and it amazed him how tiny her waist was. He pulled back, shocked.

  Carlie was watching him. “Don’t even say it.”

  He was amused by her fierce expression. “What?”

  “Whatever you were thinking. I’m not stupid.”

  “No, you’re not stupid. But you are a big faker.” His mouth tilted in a quizzical smile. “There’s not an ounce of extra fat on you, is there?”

  Carlie propped one hand on her hip in an arrogant stance. She glanced down meaningfully at her chest, the implied message very clear.

  Tyler choked back his laugh. “That’s not fat, sweetheart. That’s a bonus from Mother Nature.” Then his eyes slid over her, and his amusement slowly disapp
eared. “I want to see you.”

  “You’re looking right at me.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Warm color bloomed in her cheeks. “Oh? You want me to strip naked and dance on the table perhaps?”

  “Damn! You’re not as unreasonable as I thought.” He pulled out a chair and made a big production of seating himself. “Go ahead. I think I’m ready. Wait! Do you have smelling salts available? I’m not sure my heart can take this.”

  Carlie stared back at him blandly. Then she pulled out her own chair and sat down. She shoved a glass of wine toward him. “Eat. You need something to occupy that mouth of yours.”

  “True. But I could think of other...mmm!”

  Carlie had jammed the piece of pizza into his mouth without concern for his clean face. He ended up laughing, and wiping pizza sauce from his nose and cheeks.

  They ate in near silence but for the music Carlie had playing in the background. Tyler watched her, simply enjoying her nearness. After a moment, the quiet began to bother him. “I meant what I said earlier. About your being different. Until I met you, I thought all women were the same.”

  “That’s an asinine comment unworthy of recognition.”

  “I know it sounds cynical, but it’s true. Most of the women I’ve known were users. They would lie or mislead, even jump into my bed, just to get what they wanted.”

  Carlie looked slightly dazed. “What did they want?”

  “Marriage, usually. You may not believe this, but I’m considered a prime catch. I’m single, and Jason and I run a successful law practice. I’m financially secure, and I drive a flashy car. That’s all the criteria most women require. It wouldn’t matter who I really was.”

  “I can’t believe that.”

  “That’s because you’re just a little naive, honey.” He studied her affectionately. “Other than Brenda, no woman has taken the time to really get to know me. Except you.”

  She searched his face, her eyes bright with curiosity. “What about your mother? Or other relatives?”

  “I don’t have other relatives. And all my mother ever wanted was for me and Jason to get out of her hair. Most times we did. It didn’t matter where we went, as long as we weren’t around to interfere in her affairs.” He didn’t quite meet her gaze, feeling her empathy, and not entirely comfortable with it. Discussing his past was not something he was familiar with.

  “Jason was the one who convinced me I could get a degree. And at the time, that was no easy feat. I was so busy indulging in my bad-boy popularity, I’ll admit I was something of a punk.”

  Carlie touched the bridge of his nose. “Brenda told me you broke your nose in a fight.”

  He sent her a small, brief smile. “Yeah. I did a lot of fighting back then. Mom loved it when I kicked ass. It was the only time she ever gave me any recognition.” Tyler was amazed the words were coming so easily. But then, it was always easy to talk to Carlie. “You see, it really didn’t matter who I was. It was what I did that was important.”

  “It always matters, Tyler. If not to someone else, then to yourself.”

  He was filled with satisfaction. “There, you see? You know that, but no other woman I’ve ever met has thought so. When Mom took off, and that was some time ago, she couldn’t have cared less who I was or what I might become.”

  Carlie looked down at the remains of her pizza, then tightened her fingers around his hand. “You can’t categorize all women based on one, Tyler. That isn’t fair.”

  Tyler laughed wryly. “Don’t go getting psychological on me. My mother and her many faults didn’t form any lasting impression on me. It’s the dozens of women since who’ve done that. All but you.” He lifted her fingers and kissed them. “You, I’m convinced, are incapable of guile.”

  Carlie jumped to her feet, picked up the plates and carried them to the sink. “I’m just your basic female, Tyler, subject to the same flaws as anyone else. I can make mistakes, I—”

  Tyler stood, going to Carlie and taking her face between his hands. She stared up at him, her body taut with apprehension. “You would never hurt me, Carlie. I know you wouldn’t.”

  “You sound so positive.”

  He smiled as his thumbs stroked her cheeks. “That’s because I know you care about me. You grouse and grumble and complain, but you do care, don’t you?”

  Her gaze was direct and fiercely earnest. “Yes, I do.”

  He hesitated, his smile disappearing. “A little?”

  “A lot, Tyler. A lot.”

  He ached. She made him feel important to her. And most of all, he believed her. She truly cared for him.

  His kiss wasn’t meant to seduce, but rather to show tenderness and understanding. “Thank you, Carlie. For caring.”

  He was still cradling her face, but their bodies weren’t touching. Carlie bit her lower lip, then hugged herself to him. Tyler had the awful suspicion she could look into his soul and see his vulnerability. It shook him, and he sought casual conversation to break the mood.

  “It was the same for Jason, until he met Brenda. You should have seen him in action. He had women throwing themselves at him, and he seldom ducked to get out of the way. After we opened the law practice, it only got worse. It seemed every client who came in knew someone or was related to someone, or was someone, who they thought Jason should get to know intimately. It grew old real quick. He started sending the younger female clients to me.”

  “And now look how incorrigible you are.”

  He chuckled. “That’s right, honey. Put the blame where it’s deserved. I’m just a product of circumstance.”

  “You’re a product of indulgence.” Carlie leaned back to smile up at him. “I remember when Brenda went to work for Jason. She said he was gorgeous, charming and entirely insufferable. He tried giving her a bracelet once, you know.”

  “I remember. She threw it at him. Damned thing was heavy, too. Left a bruise on his shoulder.”

  “It was at the Christmas party you two had, where she kissed him under the mistletoe. She seemed to float for two days.”

  “Yeah. I got the load of the cases because Jason was too busy wooing Brenda to bother with anything as trivial as work. She really ran him ragged.” And, Tyler thought, he now had a much better understanding of what his brother had gone through. Carlie could tie him up in knots with just a look.

  But there was one major difference. Jason loved Brenda, whereas Tyler had no idea exactly what he felt for Carlie.

  “She made him chase her until she caught him. But they both enjoyed it, and look how everything turned out.” Carlie said the words quietly, with a strange, wistful smile.

  “Brenda isn’t the type of woman I would have figured Jason to fall for. Don’t get me wrong. There’s not a better person than Brenda. She’s good for Jason, and I love her. But Jason always had a preference for tall, busty sophisticated brunettes. Not short, perky, domesticated redheads.”

  Carlie darted him a quick look. “I guess you never can tell.”

  “No.” Tyler tilted his head, studying her, and then he agreed. “You never can tell.”

  Tugging her closer, he watched as her thick lashes lowered behind the lenses of her glasses. She gave a feeble protest when he reached up and removed them from her nose, laying them carefully on the table. “Tyler...”

  “You’re very pretty, Carlie.” He toyed with her braid, dragging his curled fingers over the length of it. He reached the end, felt the cloth-covered rubber band holding the braid secure, and pulled it free. Carlie’s eyes widened, but he didn’t give her time to stop him.

  His fingers sifted through the strands, separating them, then pulling her hair over her shoulders. It rippled with waves, a dozen different colors highlighted by the overhead light. It was beautiful—she was beautiful—and Tyler never felt so needful of anyone in his life.

  Bunching her hair into his fists on either side of her head, he pulled her face up to his. “I want you, Carlie.”

  The kiss was devas
tating in its intensity, powerfully erotic, and sensually sweet. Her body leaned into him. Tyler walked her backward to the counter, then pressed himself hard against her. He swallowed her gasp and gave his groan in return.

  And still he kissed her. He was in no hurry to speed things along. No one had ever tasted so good, so right and so perfect.

  His hands moved down her body languidly, exploring, excited by the feel of what he’d never expected, never imagined. She was all full, soft curves, lush. Fine-boned, her arms were slim, her wrists and elbows tiny. Her waist was slight, her soft belly only a marginal curve, very feminine, utterly seductive. His palm lingered there. He heard her shuddered breathing as he stroked her, feeling her muscles quiver.

  He palmed her bottom, finding it exquisitely soft and equally firm. He pulled her against his aroused body, rubbing and stroking. Carlie clung to him, and he loved it. He couldn’t get enough of her or her response.

  “I want to see you, honey.”

  “No.” Her face dipped down and she pressed her lips into his throat. “Please...”

  He kissed her again, his tongue thrusting, his breath coming in harsh pants.

  “Take me to your bedroom, Carlie.” He held her face until she opened her eyes and looked at him. “I’m going to make love to you.”

  It was inevitable. “Yes.”

  He threw back his head and closed his eyes for an instant. Then he pulled her from the counter and turned her toward the hallway. “Your bedroom.”

  She slowed as she neared her bedroom door. “I haven’t showered.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Nothing mattered except making her his, completely.

  “But we...the basketball...”

  Tyler shoved her gently inside, closing the door behind him. The room was in shadows, dim and close and intimate. It smelled of Carlie, her elusive, feminine scent. He reached for her in the dark. “Believe me, it doesn’t matter.”

  He held her close, one hand caressing her full, lush breasts, finding a stiffened nipple and tugging on it lightly, hearing her groan and then palming her, crushing her soft flesh delicately in his large hand.