When she reappeared a few moments later, he saw she’d freshened her pink lipstick and brushed her brown hair to a sleek curtain against her back. She looked like a walking dream and he could only hope he didn’t wake up and find he was actually alone.
“Have a seat and I’ll get some sodas. Or if you’d prefer I have beer.” He started toward the kitchen, then tossed teasingly over his shoulder, “Sorry, I’d offer you champagne, but I’m all out. I didn’t know I was going to be entertaining a beautiful woman tonight.”
She called across the room to him, “We don’t need champagne to make a Valentine’s toast. Soda will do just fine.”
“Sophie, did anyone ever tell you—”
“That I’m a good sport? Oh, please, Mason, whatever you do, don’t say that to me.”
He emerged from the kitchen carrying two chilled cans of cola. As he took a seat next to her, he said, “I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say that I’ve never seen you behave like a spoiled little rich girl.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “And hopefully you never will. If I ever do act like that I hope someone will bop me over the head. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve been spoiled. But that doesn’t mean I always need to have everything perfect. I want to be able to appreciate the simple joys of life, Mason. Otherwise, I’d be missing out on the things that are the most worthwhile.”
He smiled at her. “Like pizza for Valentine’s dinner?”
“Exactly,” she answered. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather be eating tonight or any other place I’d rather be than here with you.”
He handed her one of the sodas, then opened the pizza box.
After serving her a slice, he helped himself and settled back against the couch. She was already eating with gusto and the fact that she appeared to be enjoying herself surprised him somewhat. Partly because she was a Fortune Robinson and could buy the finest gourmet food, even an entire restaurant if she chose to. And partly because he’d never really gotten the hang of how to entertain a woman. At least, not a woman like Sophie.
He said, “I think you actually meant that.”
“Mmm. This is delicious and well worth the wait,” she said of the pizza. Then she turned to face him. “And why wouldn’t I mean it? You didn’t twist my arm to get me here.”
“I know. But you had such high hopes for tonight. This wasn’t the sort of date you envisioned, I’m sure.”
“I’m certain Thom had made reservations at one of the ritziest places in town. He might even have given me flowers and taken me dancing. Only because he felt obliged to do those things for me. Not because he actually wanted to.” She shook her head. “Believe me, Mason. That’s not the sort of date I wanted. I want things to be genuine. And with Thom—I’m not sure that he cares about anyone’s feelings. Except his own.”
He momentarily forgot about the pizza he’d lifted halfway to his mouth. “When did you come to this conclusion? I thought—well, for the last few days he was giving you gifts and planning this night and you didn’t say anything. I thought you were still gaga over the man.”
Her face tinged with color, she lowered the plate to her lap and slanted him a rueful glance. “In a way, Mason, I suppose I’m just as phony as Thom. I’ve been pretending all this time. I didn’t want anyone to guess that after our first date I realized he and I would never be the real thing. It was just too embarrassing. My sister Olivia had tried to warn me and I wouldn’t listen to her advice. You see, where men are concerned, she has a cynical streak, so I thought she was just being negative. Now I’m going to have to listen to her say I told you so. Not to mention the gossip that will go on at Robinson Tech once the news gets out that I called it quits with Thom. After everyone could see I was chasing after him.”
“Sophie, you’re being too hard on yourself. You didn’t chase after Thom. You merely made him notice you. Which, if the truth was known, he’d already done. You just made it easy for him to ask you on a date.”
She smiled at him and Mason wondered why she was the only woman who’d ever made him feel so vulnerable and weak, yet so oddly happy. It didn’t make sense. But was love supposed to make sense?
Whoa, Mason, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. You don’t love Sophie. You’re enamored with her, for sure. And you’d like to take her in your arms and kiss her until the two of you end up in the bedroom. But that isn’t love. And, besides, this woman is going to move on to a bigger and better man than you.
“You’re being way too kind, Mason. But thank you for listening. And for trying to make me look not so much of a fool.”
Her comment broke through the warning voice in his head and he glanced over to see her eyes had suddenly clouded with doubts and sadness. In all the time he’d known Sophie, he’d never seen her as she’d been these past few days. It was like her confidence and sassiness had flown out the window. If Thom had caused this abrupt change in her, then he’d like to choke him until he turned blue in the face.
“Sophie, you can tell me if this is none of my business. But is this all about Thom? Or has something else been bothering you?”
Instead of looking at him, she stared at her plate. “I do have other things on my mind, Mason. But I’d really rather not talk about them now. Maybe later.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading. “Tonight I just want us to enjoy this time together. Okay?”
Although Mason would’ve liked for her to open up to him and share her problems, he wasn’t about to push his luck. But eventually, if he got his wish, she might want to talk about all the things she’d buried in her heart.
He scooted close enough to wrap his fingers around her forearm. “It’s perfectly okay, Sophie. So let’s dig in and finish this pizza before it gets cold.”
With a look of relief, she began to eat and Mason purposely changed the direction of their conversation to a safer topic. Eventually they began to talk about their college days and the sticky situations they’d gotten into both in class and on campus. Which had them both laughing.
Finally she placed her empty plate on the coffee table, then kicked off her heels and drew her legs up beneath her. She was wearing black lacy tights and Mason could hardly keep his eyes off the shapely calves, slim ankles and dainty feet. Beneath the black stockings there would be smooth creamy skin that would be soft and warm beneath his hand. The need to touch her was growing with each passing minute.
Rising restlessly to his feet, he said, “Uh—I could turn on the TV, or put some music on the stereo?”
“Some music might be nice. If you have something that’s not too intrusive.”
“I have plenty of elevator music—the kind we listen to all day at work. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like you’re trying to pull my leg.”
He laughed and her soft chuckle joined in.
“Okay. I’m teasing. I’d really like to take a shotgun to the speaker over my desk.”
“I know. If we didn’t have to listen to that morbid music, we all might be more productive.” She looked at him with raised brows. “We’re not at work, so what are you going to play for me?”
He walked over to the stereo and began to dig through a stack of CDs until he found the one he thought she might enjoy. “Something soft and romantic,” he said. “For Valentine’s night.”
Soon the sexy R&B music floated quietly out of the speakers, and he walked back over to the couch.
Holding his hand out to her, he asked, “Would you care to dance, my lady?”
“I would love to,” she murmured.
Placing her hand in his, she uncurled herself from the couch and stepped into his arms. His first instinct was to wrap his arm around her and crush her warm body to his. But she viewed him as a friend and a gentleman she could trust. He needed to keep a respectable distance between them, he reminded himself.
Earlier this evening in the parking garage, she wasn’t kissing you like a friend, Mason. She was kissing you like a lover. Now is
n’t the time to hold back. Show her exactly how much you want her.
He was trying to ignore the prodding voice in his head when she said, “The music is nice. You have good taste, Mason.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he murmured as he dared to rest his cheek against her silky hair. “But you probably should’ve put your heels back on. I’m not that good a dancer. I might step on your toes.”
“I’m not worried. Besides, dancing barefoot with you feels…very good. Why would I want to stop and put on my shoes?”
As she spoke, he could feel her drawing closer until the tips of her breasts were brushing against his chest, her hips swaying rhythmically against him. The intimate contact filled him with sizzling sensations and before he realized what he was doing, both his arms had wrapped around her, his hands linked at the small of her back.
“We still have time to go to a club—to dance and celebrate. All you have to do is say the word.”
“We’re dancing and celebrating right now. And honestly, I don’t want to be crammed in a crowd.” She looked up at him, then brushed a finger against a spot on his chin. “You have a speck of cheese. Right there.”
“I’m messy. Thanks.” He looked down at her and his gaze focused on the plump, pink curves of her lips. “And you have a tiny dot of sauce at the corner of your mouth.”
“I do?” She paused long enough to lick both corners. “Did I get it?”
The only thing she’d managed to do was make his insides clench with longing. He struggled to keep from groaning out loud. “No. It’s still there. Let me.”
He wiped the speck of sauce away, but his gaze remained frozen on her lips. Had there been some sort of potion in the soda or pizza? He seemed to have forgotten how to breathe and the temperature in the apartment felt as though it had zoomed up to ninety degrees or higher.
“Sophie, either I’m getting sick or being this close to you is doing something strange to me.”
Her hands were suddenly on the middle of his chest, sliding slowly upward toward his collar bone. Mason swallowed and tried to keep his head from reeling.
“It’s doing something to me, too. But I don’t think it’s strange, Mason. I think it’s natural and nice and nothing to run from.”
Run. Yes, that’s what he should do. Run to the balcony or out on the stairs. Anywhere he could breathe and clear his head of this drunken desire that was taking control of him. But he didn’t want to move away from her. At least, not until he could taste her lips again.
“I’m glad you think so. Because I—”
The remainder of his words stuck in his throat and, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t cough them up or swallow them down.
Her eyes were glowing and her lips tilted in a provocative smile. “Because you want to kiss me?”
The softly spoken invitation was more than Mason could resist. Without a second thought, he drew her in the tight circle of his arms and, with a hungry growl, took her lips with his.
A flash fire roared through him and as his hands roamed her back and her soft curves melted into his body, he recognized this feeling was not just a man wanting a woman. He was holding something precious in his arms. He wanted to cherish and protect everything she was giving him, not take advantage of her vulnerable emotions by asking her for more.
The thoughts in his head continued to wage a war with the very real needs flowing through his body. But eventually common sense won the fight and he gently eased his lips from hers and set her away from him.
“I—I’m sorry, Sophie. This is getting out of hand.”
She stared at him, her eyes full of confusion, her swollen lips parted with surprise. He could see words practically forming on her tongue, but they were never released. Instead, she turned her back to him and walked to the opposite side of the room.
As Mason studied her slumped shoulders, he felt sick with loss. Moreover, he felt like a coward. This was his chance to show Sophie exactly how he felt about her. If he let this moment slip away, he might never be given another.
With that desperate thought pushing at his back, Mason took a fateful step in her direction. Then another. And another. Until his hands were on her shoulders, urging her back to him.
Chapter Eleven
Fighting a wall of stinging tears, Sophie tried to pull herself together and give Mason an understanding smile. But try as she might, her lips refused to do little more than wobble into a half-hearted grin.
“I’m sorry, too, Mason,” she said hoarsely. “Maybe you should just drive me home.”
“Sophie, I—”
“You don’t have to explain, Mason,” she gently interrupted. “I understand completely. You’ve always thought of me as a friend. And that’s the way you want things to remain between us—just friends. I can accept that.”
An incredulous expression swept over his face and then he shook his head. “You don’t understand, Sophie! For ages—from the very beginning I met you—I’ve wanted us to be more than friends! But with all that’s been going on in your life—I’m trying to do the right thing and give you more time. To think about you and me. I don’t want to rush you and make a mess of everything.”
Relief and joy swirled inside her until she felt as though her bare feet weren’t even touching the hardwood floor.
“You’re not rushing, Mason. And sometimes a little mess is a good thing. A whole lot better than perfect.”
For one anxious second, she thought he was going to argue the point, but then his eyelids suddenly lowered and his lips found their way back to hers.
This time there was no restraint on his part, or hers. She felt no barriers standing between them or had thoughts of escape dashing through her whirling head. The only thing on her mind now was getting closer to the man she wanted.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Sophie let every guard down, every vulnerable spot inside her show as she lost herself in the magic of his kiss. And almost instantly, she was transported to a place where nothing mattered but the masculine taste of his lips and the achingly wonderful warmth pouring through her.
Over and over he took her mouth in a succession of deep, scorching kisses that stole her breath and had her hands clinging to his shoulders to support her shaky legs.
Finally, he tore his mouth from hers and spoke between long, ragged breaths. “This—isn’t—enough, Sophie. I want you. All of you.”
Cradling his face between her palms, she whispered up to him, “Oh, yes, Mason. I want that, too. Very much.”
His hands pushed into her hair until his fingers were tilting her face up to his searching gaze. “Are you sure, Sophie? Just because it’s Valentine’s Day doesn’t mean—”
“I don’t care if it’s the Fourth of July or Friday the 13th,” she whispered with conviction. “I’d want you just as much.”
His gaze searched her face one last time and then he reached for her hand and led her out of the room. As Sophie followed him, her heart was pounding so hard the noise in her ears was drowning out the soft music playing on the stereo. This morning she’d been miserable and all day she’d told herself she wanted nothing more to do with any man. That all of them were nothing more than low, slithering snakes.
But that hadn’t included Mason. No, he was the only man on earth that made her feel safe and wanted. And yes, a teeny bit loved. Thinking like that perhaps made her an even bigger fool than she’d made of herself these past two weeks. But tonight Sophie wasn’t going to let herself dwell on all the things she’d rather forget. She was with Mason and for now the world felt right.
At the end of the hall they turned left and the next thing Sophie knew they were standing in his bedroom.
Mason clicked on a bedside lamp, shedding a pool of light across a bed with tumbled navy blue bedcovers and pillows stacked against a brass headboard.
“Sorry, Sophie,” he voiced the husky apology. “The bed isn’t made, but the sheets are clean.”
She laughed softly as she curled her arms around his w
aist and hugged him. “Who cares about bedcovers? We’re just going to mess them up anyway.”
His hands slid down her back until they were cupping her rounded bottom and drawing her hips toward his. “Sophie, why did it take so long for this to happen? Why didn’t we figure this out sooner? I think I’ve wanted you forever.”
Desire was already simmering deep within her. It was impossible to imagine how it was going to feel once their bodies were united. The mere thought of it was sending shivers of anticipation through her.
“I thought you only wanted me as your friend—someone to talk to. I didn’t know.” She stroked the pads of her fingers along the strong line of his jaw. He felt so strong and warm. And with each breath she drew in, the male scent of his skin and hair filled her head like a strong drink of wine.
His head dipped alongside hers until his nose was nuzzling her neck. “Yes, we’re friends. And we talk as friends. But tonight we’ve done enough talking. Don’t you think?”
Her fingers reached for the buttons on his shirt. “I think we can figure out plenty of other things to keep us occupied,” she whispered.
He planted another long, breathtaking kiss on her lips, but once the erotic contact ended they began shedding their clothing, each assisting the other with zippers and buttons, until finally Sophie was stripped down to a lacy pink bra and panties and Mason a pair of dark printed boxers.
Sophie’s hungry gaze barely had time to scan his hard, muscled chest and arms and slip to his corded abs, before he picked her up and laid her on the bed.
With a breathless laugh, she reached for his hand and tugged him beside her. They turned toward each other, until the front of her body was pressed against his.
To feel his bare skin rubbing against hers was as erotic as the touch of his fingers sliding down her breastbone until they reached one plump little breast. His fingers teased the nipple, until the offending barrier of her bra became a frustration.
He quickly removed the scrap of fabric and tossed it to the floor with the rest of their clothing, then turned his attention back to her breasts and the budded nipples just waiting for his touch. He didn’t disappoint as he bent his head and suckled first one and then the other.
Her Sweetest Fortune Page 14
