Sex and the Sleepwalker

by Donna Sterling

  And the alarm on his watch went off, a quiet but rousing beep. She’d opened her door! Light footsteps headed his way. His blood rushed and his spirits rose.

  But then he heard heavier footsteps and another door opening. A loud thud, as if someone had hit into a wall. A feminine gasp. A masculine mumble.

  Cade raced to his door and threw it open. Between his room and Brynn’s stood one of the Kappa Alpha guys, helping Brynn up from the floor. She looked stunned and bewildered, as if she’d been rudely awakened from a deep sleep.

  “Sorry, Brynn,” the pajama-clad Kappa Alpha was saying. “Didn’t see you coming. Jeez, you bounced right into that wall. You okay?”

  “Y-yes.” She nodded, blinking repeatedly. “I’m fine.”

  “Brynn.” Cade strode down the hall to make sure she was okay. And to lead her to his room….

  But before he reached her, she glanced at him, backed up a step and murmured, “I’m okay.” She then whirled around, fled to her room and shut the door behind her.

  Not the reaction he’d been looking for.

  “She came out of nowhere,” the Kappa Alpha said to him, looking shaken and defensive. “Darted out at a full run.”

  Cade didn’t bother to answer. He knew she’d been dreaming, and assumed she’d been on her way to his room—until she’d woken up and run in the opposite direction. Swallowing his disappointment, he returned to bed.

  He didn’t understand Brynn’s refusal to sleep with him. They’d finally made love, and it had surpassed his wildest dreams. She’d told him she hadn’t felt that way with anyone else. But her barriers were still in place against him, or she wouldn’t have made flimsy excuses to sleep alone. She’d be with him right now.

  He’d just have to do something about those barriers.

  “THE NAMES AND PHOTOS you sent of the guests all checked out,” John Sutherland informed Cade over the phone on Sunday morning. “Nothing suspicious there.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much. Most are repeat customers, and all but one old lady left this morning. As far as I’ve been able to tell, there are only two newcomers to Brynn’s circle of acquaintances. One is Lexi’s boyfriend, a guy she’s been dating for four months. Lived in the area his entire life. No police record. The other is Antoine Moreau, who showed up five weeks ago, claiming to be Trish’s cousin. She told me he was born in the United States, but lived in France from age three, when his mother died. His French father wanted nothing to do with his wife’s American family, so the ties were broken. Seems like the perfect setup for an imposter to step in. Have you found anything on him yet?”

  “Only that Trish does have a cousin by that name with dual citizenship. His U.S. driver’s license has him at 5’11, 180 pounds, brown hair, blue eyes.”

  “Lexi told me Antoine is over six feet tall. Of course, she might have overestimated, but…” With mounting certainty that something was off with Moreau, Cade gave John the name of the company Antoine allegedly ran and the information that he’d supposedly attended the Sorbonne in France. “Brynn talked to Moreau from her cell phone yesterday. We can get his number from her phone records, and information about him from his account. Trish told me he’s living in a hotel nearby until he finds a permanent place. I’ve got a man checking into that, too.”

  After hanging up, Cade signed on to his laptop and tested the surveillance equipment he’d planted in various locations around the inn. Moreau was bound to show up soon. No way would he be able to spend a single moment alone with Brynn without every word and action being transmitted to Cade while he stood nearby. He’d already placed movement sensors on the door and windows of her private suite, and he’d bugged her telephone. Now he would install video cameras in her suite and a locator chip on whatever vehicle Moreau arrived in.

  Cade didn’t give a damn about the legality of the surveillance or its usefulness in court. He simply wasn’t going to give a possible abductor—maybe even a killer—access to Brynn. He’d stick like glue to her until the Piper was caught.

  The “sticking like glue” part of the plan appealed to him immensely. He only hoped that her aloofness after their lovemaking didn’t mean that she no longer wanted to be with him. That would present a problem.

  But it wouldn’t stop him. Regardless of how she felt about him, she would be with him until the Piper was apprehended.

  “BRYNNIE, ARE YOU OKAY?”

  “Me? Sure,” Brynn answered absentmindedly as she filed credit card forms after the Sunday morning checkout. When it occurred to her to be curious over the question, she glanced at Trish, who stood beside her behind the registration counter. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’re putting those credit card forms in Lexi’s recipe file.”

  “Oh.” She blinked at the file cabinet drawer that was clearly marked Lexi’s Recipes, and mentally scolded herself. “Must be more tired than I thought. I didn’t sleep well last night.” She’d been too preoccupied with thoughts of Cade, as well as with her anxiety over the sleepwalking debacle that could have injured a guest. And…well, with more thoughts of Cade.

  The sex had been too good. Better than she’d ever imagined. And the way he’d held her afterward had moved her too much….

  “You looked distracted when you came in last night, too.” Curiosity lurked in Trish’s keen blue eyes. “Around nine-thirty, I believe it was. Guess you and Cade spent a lot of time gathering info for his book, huh?”

  Not wanting to talk about her intimacy with Cade, Brynn nodded, then felt bad about lying, and shook her head. But when she couldn’t think of an explanation for why they hadn’t worked on his book, she ended with a shrug. The movement caused an ache in her shoulder that reminded her of the collision she’d had in her sleep. Which in turn brought her thoughts back to Cade. She’d run from him last night. She’d actually turned tail and run!

  If she hadn’t, she probably would have ended up spending the rest of the night cuddled with him in his bed. And that was something she couldn’t allow herself to do.

  She’d made an important realization after their lovemaking yesterday. She finally understood why she’d been sexually dissatisfied with other men. It wasn’t because of what they did or didn’t do, but because they didn’t look, sound, feel, smell or taste like Cade. And for some crazy reason, she needed that particular mix of sensory input to fully stimulate her.

  How sick was that? She had to get over it! But how? Maybe he’d been right about the therapy. Maybe she really did need to exorcise him from her subconscious by satisfying the sexual need she’d neglected during their past relationship. But even if that was true, she couldn’t let herself get too attached to him in the process.

  And that meant no more cuddling in his bed all night. It could get to be habit-forming. After just one morning of waking up there, she already felt lonely in her own bed—and it had only a little to do with sex. This constant craving for his company, for strengthening their new bond, wouldn’t do. They would have sex between them—hot, wild, mind-blowing sex—but nothing else. Nothing else!

  “Brynn, honey, you’re scaring me.”

  Startled out of the thoughts that had been dominating her mind all morning, Brynn realized Trish now loomed nearer, frowning suspiciously. “What happened between you and Cade?”

  “Happened?” She would not tell Trish to mind her own business. Conflict between business partners could only lead to trouble. “What do you mean?”

  Trish’s eyes widened and her mouth grew slack. “You had sex with him, didn’t you?”

  “Sex!” Not exactly a denial, but not a confirmation, either. Instinctively she knew Trish was upset that she, Brynn “Boring Brunette on a Budget” Sutherland, had attracted a man that she, “Dazzling Blond Queen of the Cosmopolitan Elite,” had wanted.

  It was then that Brynn realized with mild shock that, despite all the years they’d been friends, they’d never outgrown the roles they’d assumed in the sorority house. She still felt anxiety claw at her because she had displeas
ed the most influential girl in the sorority. None of their crowd purposely displeased Trish. Ever.

  “I never thought you were such a hypocrite, Brynn. You warned me away from Cade, then went after him yourself.”

  Brynn bit her tongue to keep from reminding her that the warning hadn’t stopped Trish from trying her damnedest to get him into bed. The fact that he hadn’t taken the bait was what irritated Trish the most, Brynn guessed. “Everything I told you about him was true, Trish…and for your own good.”

  “Did you work on Cade’s book yesterday at all?”

  Guilt flushed through Brynn, but before she could reply, Cade sauntered in from the dining room, looking impossibly handsome in a black, chest-hugging Henley T-shirt, tight jeans and a disarmingly attractive smile. “Morning, ladies.” His deep, masculine voice sang through Brynn like a favorite song. “My compliments to the chef for the, er, muffins this morning. Nothing like homemade blueberry muffins.”

  “They were blackberry,” Trish snapped. She stalked out from behind the registration counter and aimed a cool glare over her shoulder. “By the way, Brynn, Antoine called last night. Seems he couldn’t get through on your cell phone.” After a chastising lift of one golden brow, she strode away with the arrogant grace of a royal princess.

  “Trish.” Brynn came around the counter to follow her. On her way past, though, Cade caught her arm, braced a hand at the small of her back and diverted her into the small office that had once been the sorority house’s supply room. Shutting the door behind him, he blocked her only path of escape.

  “So, what do you think?” he muttered in a conspiratorial tone. “Does she suspect something’s going on between us?” The gravity of his question was belied by the amusement in his brown-gold eyes.

  “This isn’t funny, Cade. I’ve really upset her.”

  “Annoyed her,” he corrected. His gaze then wandered over Brynn’s face with a warmth that recharged the energy she’d been trying to contain since their interlude in the magnolia tree. Brushing his finger down the curve of her cheek, he murmured, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  His nearness, his touch, scattered her thoughts and activated every one of the nerve endings in the path his finger had taken. “I’ve just been busy,” she replied breathlessly. “Sunday morning checkout is always hectic.”

  “What about last night, in the hallway?”

  “If you’ll remember, one of my Kappa Alphas was standing there in his pj’s, embarrassed because he thought he’d knocked me down. I felt it best to put a quick end to the awkwardness by retiring to my room.”

  “You could have retired to my room.”

  Helplessly aroused by the huskiness in his voice and the heat in his gaze, she evaded the comment by sliding her arms around his neck and resting her pelvis against his taut thighs—a vivid reminder of yesterday’s powerful thrusts. “Since my sleepwalking does seem to be getting more dangerous,” she murmured, “we’d better schedule our next therapy session soon.”

  “Mmm,” he agreed, tilting his face toward hers to nip at her mouth playfully, adding a soft, sensuous tug. “Real soon.” He nipped again—at her bottom lip this time, drawing it into the moist heat of his mouth.

  She pressed closer, craving more of his hardness and heat. She was allowed to do this—a strictly sexual thing, kissing him in a darkened office and lusting after his touch. And this would be a fine place for their next therapy session, she realized. They had kissed against this very wall during her sorority days. She’d nearly lost her virginity here. Where had she ever found the strength to resist him back then?

  But in a far corner of her mind, she knew. Fear had stopped her. Not fear of Cade or of sex, but of making another huge mistake. One that could send her on ruinous detours from her goal.

  But she was older and stronger now. She had her degree. Her career was on the right track. And as long as she kept things in perspective, sex with Cade wouldn’t hurt.

  And that’s what she wanted now. Sex with Cade. Before she had time to think too much about why he and he alone held such a strong sexual appeal for her.

  Luring him into a deeper kiss, she ran her fingers up his muscled thighs and relished the ripples of reaction she felt and the low moan that rumbled within him. Heat gunned through her, and she brushed her fingers across the hardness within his jeans.

  He gasped, slid his hands around her buttocks and backed her against the wall, lifting her just high enough to press against his erection. Reaction leaped in her like a flame, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, wanting him inside her.

  Breaking from their kiss with a harsh exhalation, he said in a hot whisper against her jaw, “Not here.”

  “Why not? It would fit with our therapy.”

  “I want to lie with you. Naked. And take it slow.”

  Anticipation stirred her blood, and heat throbbed between her legs, in her womb, in her breasts. “Where, then?”

  “A bed. Any bed.”

  A bed. Yes. But then alarm bells rang through her head at the thought of taking him to her bed or going to his. It was a step in the wrong direction. If they went to bed now, she might not have the fortitude to stop from going to bed with him tonight, too. And the night after that. She could end up spending every night in bed with him for as long as his stay lasted. And when he left, she’d have a terrible time trying to adjust to lying in bed without him. A terrible, terrible time…

  No, the “therapy” they’d discussed was as far as she could go with him. She’d agreed to make love in the places where they’d made out during their college romance. To add any more intimacy to that plan was a danger to her state of mind. She had to stay within the boundaries of their agreement, or she would be lost.

  “A bed?” she repeated, undulating against him with provocative friction that made his color rise, his breathing deepen. “But that’s not on our therapy agenda. We never made out in a bed back in college.”

  He angled his face to capture her mouth in another kiss, but then stopped. “You avoided beds back then because you were afraid we’d go all the way. We’ve already done that. And we’re going to do it again. So what’s wrong with a bed?”

  “You’re the one who prescribed my therapy. Don’t you think we should stick to it?”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can’t supplement the program.” As he said it, he rocked his hardness against her again, sending hot sensation shooting through her core.

  “No bed,” she said with a groan. A bed was simply too real. Making love to him in a bed would leave an indelible imprint on her everyday life. Fooling around outdoors was an adventure that would always remain outside her normal life. Like a fantasy. And that’s what she would have when he left. Fantasies. “So what’s your second choice?”

  He frowned and narrowed his gaze. She distracted him with another kiss—and the press of her breasts against his chest, and the gyration of her hips, coaxing his erection to strain harder against his jeans…and against her.

  But as he gave in to the deliciously carnal kiss, a loud, intrusive voice crackled from the radio she wore on her belt.

  “Brynn.” It was Trish, and her voice had a smug tone. “You have a visitor waiting for you on the porch.”

  STRUGGLING TO REGAIN control of his body after the abrupt end to a kiss that had been only one hammering heartbeat away from full-fledged sex against the wall, Cade plowed his fingers through his hair and followed Brynn at a distance.

  She finger-combed her tousled mane, too, and drew in a deep, audible breath before stepping through the front door of the inn and onto the front porch. Cade remained inside, assuming a casual stance by a partially open window where he had a clear view of her caller.

  He knew who the guy was the instant he set eyes on him. He stood about six-feet tall—slightly over the five-eleven on his supposed driver’s license. His light brown hair was streaked with blond, and shoulder length. His blazer, matching gray shirt and pleated khakis were tailored with European elegance, and
probably cost more than a weekend getaway for your average family of four. He could be no other than Antoine Moreau. Or the man posing as Antoine Moreau.

  Cade disliked him on sight, even before Brynn greeted him. “Antoine. I didn’t expect you until tonight.”

  “Bonjour, Brynn,” he murmured in response, then kissed both her cheeks and gifted her with a smile meant to dazzle.

  Cade wondered if it had.

  “I missed you too much to stay away for even one hour longer.” His French accent was subtle—nothing more than a melodious cadence that distinguished him as continental.

  Oh, yeah. This guy could lure women away from their homes as easily as the fictional Pied Piper had lured the children. Cade held on to one important fact as Moreau opened his arms to the woman he himself had just been holding: Moreau hadn’t satisfied her in bed.

  She hesitated before stepping into his embrace, or so it seemed to Cade. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.

  “Spying on the competition?” Trish’s tart question sprang from directly beside him.

  Annoyed that she’d startled him, he slanted a mildly admonishing glance at her, then returned his attention to the porch. “He looks familiar,” Cade lied. “I think I’ve met him somewhere before. He’s your, er, cousin, I take it?”

  “I hope you’re not counting on Brynn choosing you over Antoine for the rest of your stay. She might have gotten carried away with you yesterday, but she’s strictly a one-man woman. And for now, she’s Antoine’s. Her relationships last a long time, too. Years, usually. That is, unless a guy really screws things up with her. You know, like you did?”

  He felt the jab go deep. “Retract the claws, Trish.”

  “She hasn’t really forgiven you, you know.”

  He wondered if that was true. His head still rang from the metaphorical slap she’d dealt him only moments ago—refusing to go to a bed. He craved time and privacy with her. She hadn’t wanted that. She’d been more than willing, though, for him to take her against a wall. God knows he wasn’t opposed to sex with her any way or anywhere, but her refusal to come with him to a bed bothered him.