by Kwan, Coleen
A sigh rippled through her. She’d never woken up feeling so gratified and light, so…cherished.
The hand on her thigh twitched. “Morning,” Owen’s voice rumbled into her hair.
Instantly her pulse picked up. “Morning.” She turned over to face him. In the narrow bed there was no space between them. Not that she wanted any. Up close she could make out his stubble breaking through and the tiny dimples bracketing his lovely, sensual mouth. The mouth that had given her so much pleasure last night…
“Is it a good morning?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.
She couldn’t help grinning. “It’s a very good morning.” She coasted her palm over his bare chest, reveling in the firmness of his pectorals.
His smile widened. “I could make it an even better morning for both of us.” His hand stroked her thigh, and she knew she was lost.
Sometime later, they fell apart, perspiring and gasping for air.
“I’ve just had a great idea,” Paige panted as she lay against the pillows. “Let’s go for a swim.”
He didn’t immediately agree as she’d expected. “A swim? In the pool?”
“Well, yeah. That’s what the pool’s for.”
His breathing slowly steadied as he continued to gaze up at the ceiling.
“Come on,” she cajoled. “A swim would be fun.” Suddenly it seemed crucial to get Owen into the pool. “You owe it to yourself, don’t you think, after all these years?”
Cagey eyes fixed on her. “You mean I finally deserve it after all the times I had to clean that damn thing?”
Hitching herself up, she rested on an elbow so she could lean over him. “That deserving part? That’s all in your head. You’re not the only poor boy who’s worked his way up the ladder. Get over yourself and come for a swim.”
He started as if she’d poked him before he smiled wryly. “You don’t pull any punches, princess.”
“It’s just a pool, for goodness’ sake.” She sat upright, the sheets falling away from her body. “I’m going for a swim, even if you won’t.” She got up, flung on her bathrobe, and turned back to Owen. Sprawled naked across her bed like a Greek god, he was a magnificent sight, enough to crush the air from her lungs, but she kept her tone light as she added, “And I’m not going to bother with a swimsuit either. Coming?”
The abs on his torso hardened as he jackknifed to his feet. “Why didn’t you say you were going skinny-dipping?” He grabbed a pair of shorts. “I would’ve said yes straightaway.”
They ambled across the garden. After their intense early-morning exertions, the sun was well up, promising a fine autumn day. Thank goodness it was Sunday and Wilkins wasn’t around. Glancing at Owen, she impulsively threaded her arm through his. She wanted this gorgeous man all to herself today. Maybe tomorrow, too… No, what was she thinking? It was too dangerous to mix Owen with her future. The two were as incompatible as sweatpants and stilettos. She could enjoy Owen for today, but that was it. No matter how wonderful and beautiful he’d made her feel last night and this morning—and she’d never felt more special in her life—she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on what-ifs. They’d laid down the ground rules before succumbing to their mutual lust. Last night had been merely unfinished business. Nothing more. And this swim was just the final full stop, the dinner mint to round off the once-in-a-lifetime meal.
The conservatory was a bowl of golden sunshine and shimmering water. Paige flung open all the doors and windows to let in the air. When she turned back to Owen, he was scooping out a few leaves with the long-handled net.
“Typical.” She walked toward him, shaking her head. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”
He grinned. “Force of habit. I like a clean pool.”
His hair was all tousled, his skin gleamed, and he smelled of fantastic sex. Paige drew in a deep breath. As the air shimmered around them, the years fell away, and they were teenagers again, and she was gawking at the beautiful boy, frightened of the primitive feelings he aroused yet unable to stay away from him. Reaching out, she touched his shoulder. He was warm and solid and real, the one real man in all her life.
“You know, this is a fantasy of mine come true.” Holding the lapels of her robe, she slid the garment halfway down her shoulders. “I’ve always wanted to swim naked with you.” She let go of the robe and let it fall to the tiles.
Owen’s eyes lit up. “Seems I chose the perfect time for my first swim here, then.” He dropped his shorts, and a second later he scooped her into his arms and leaped into the pool.
She shrieked with sheer exhilaration as they hit the water. Arms and legs entwined, they sank beneath the surface and away from reality. He threaded his fingers through her drifting hair as he pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. Bubbles feathered her skin. Owen said something, but she couldn’t make out the muffled sounds. It didn’t matter down here. In the water, everything was different, weightless. She shut her eyes. If they could only remain submerged, this moment might last forever.
But her lungs were starting to ache. Opening her eyes, she found Owen gazing at her with such intensity her heart leaped in her throat.
I’m falling in love with him.
The notion exploded on her like a stone shattering glass. Disbelief speared through her. Impossible. I can’t be in love with Owen. That would be disastrous.
Her eardrums thudded. Panicked, she twisted free and kicked upward, desperate to get away from Owen’s penetrating gaze. He mustn’t suspect her feelings. Oh God, what was she going to do?
Gasping for breath, she bobbed up at the surface, but there was no escaping Owen as he burst up next to her with an almighty splash.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He reached for her, concern etched in his expression.
Sweetheart. He’d called her sweetheart. “Don’t say that.” She plowed through the water to the edge of the pool and clambered out. The air felt harsh and cold against her wet skin. Hurrying to the rack of fresh towels, she grabbed one and flung it over herself.
Quick feet slapped on the tiles behind her as Owen followed. He stood before her, rivulets streaming down his taut body, his eyes filled with wariness.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Nothing.” She steeled herself to meet his gaze. No way in the world could she give him a hint of what was churning through her. It was too shattering for her to comprehend, let alone share with him. “I just, ah, realized how late it is.”
His eyes narrowed. “Didn’t realize you had any urgent appointments today.”
Her legs were trembling, her skin was prickling. Shoot, why did he have to stand naked in front of her, reminding her of everything they’d done last night in intimate detail? A wave of weak longing surged over her. If only she could lean into him, rest her head against his chest and feel his heart beating against her cheek. If only she could feel his arms wrapped around her, arms strong enough to keep the outside world at bay. But she had to be strong by herself.
She squared her shoulders. “Owen, we both agreed that last night was—was nothing more than unfinished business.”
As he stared at her in silence, his body grew rigid. “And you’ve decided that our business is now finished?”
It had to finish now, before her terrifying feelings for him developed any further. She nodded. At that, his expression closed up, a hard carapace enveloping him and shutting her out.
She tipped up her chin at his obvious frustration. “You have no right to be angry with me. I didn’t promise you anything.”
“No, you didn’t.” He snatched a dry towel and flicked it around his waist, his movements angry. “I guess you’ve got me out of your system.”
If only that were true. Instead, he’d infected her with soul-sucking love for which the only treatment was complete isolation. Damn him. Why had he come back into her life?
“Yeah, I guess so,” she said belligerently.
Aching silence vibrated between them.
“Paige!” A strident vo
ice reverberated across the conservatory.
That voice was so familiar. Her heart faltered and seemed to jam in her throat. Oh no, it couldn’t be…
She spun around to see her mother standing at the entrance to the conservatory, eyes like chips of ice, mouth agape in sheer incredulity.
Crystal Kerrigan had come home.
…
Even on a Sunday morning, her mother was immaculately turned out. Her bloodred jacquard suit, black stiletto shoes, and chunky gold jewelry were more suited to a TV studio than a country home. Next to her, Paige sensed Owen tensing up, but she couldn’t look at him. All she could do was stare at her mother as she approached, her heels clicking loudly on the tiles.
“Mother?” Paige said. “What—what are you doing here?”
“I should be asking you that.” Crystal gestured impatiently. “I thought you were still in London. You didn’t even tell me you were coming back.”
The aggrieved note in her mother’s voice made Paige’s spine stiffen. “Just for the record, I’ve been trying to contact you and Dad for weeks, but you haven’t returned any of my messages.” She compressed her lips as she recalled how abandoned she’d felt.
A shadow of guilt flickered across Crystal’s face but quickly vanished. “We’ll talk about that later.” Her laser-sharp gaze moved away and targeted Owen. “And who is this?” The temperature of her voice fell several degrees. “A friend of yours?”
Before Paige could say anything, Owen stepped up to Crystal. “It’s Owen Bellamy, Mrs. Kerrigan.” He stuck out his hand toward her.
For a moment it seemed she would ignore his outstretched hand, but eventually she shook it with obvious reluctance. “Owen Bellamy?” As recognition dawned on her, she dropped his hand like a hot brick. “Weren’t you…?”
“The pool boy, yeah.” He stared back at her, chin thrust out, muscles chiseled in his shoulders and back. The antagonism vibrating off him was thick enough to cut.
“Sorry for the interruption,” Crystal continued, not looking in the least apologetic, “but you’ll have to excuse me and Paige. We have a lot to discuss.” Glancing back at Paige, she jerked her head peremptorily.
Paige grimaced at her mother. After ignoring her for weeks, Crystal expected Paige to trot after her like an obedient puppy. And she’d acknowledged Owen so churlishly it made Paige hot with embarrassment. No wonder Owen despised the Kerrigans.
“You’re excused.” Owen rested broad hands on hips. “You can have your discussion with Paige down at the caretaker’s cottage.”
Crystal’s plucked eyebrows flew up. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m entitled to my privacy, seeing as I’m renting this whole place.” He twirled a forefinger, indicating his entire surrounds.
As Crystal gawked at him like a stranded fish, Paige felt a twinge of sympathy for her mother. Owen was enjoying taunting her.
“I rented this place to a corporation,” Crystal said, her face pinched beneath her makeup. “Not to you. I would never have rented my home to you.”
A tendon flexed in Owen’s neck. “I’m a partner in the business. Everything is aboveboard.”
For a few moments, nobody spoke. Paige could see her mother battling to regain her self-control. She remembered that awful, hollowed-out feeling she’d experienced when she’d learned about Owen. Right here in this conservatory, too.
“Be that as it may,” Crystal said in a suppressed tone of hard-fought composure. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter who’s renting because I came here today to get my home back. I’d like you to move out, Owen, as soon as possible.”
Chapter Twelve
The woman had balls, he’d give her that.
Owen folded his arms across his chest. “In my experience, what you like and what you get are often two very different things.”
Crystal Kerrigan waved her hand. Moments ago he’d shocked her, but now she acted as if she were just brushing away a pesky fly. “I’m well aware that the rental lease is watertight and legally you have every right to stay here for a whole year, but I’m prepared to offer you compensation if you’ll terminate the lease.”
“Compensation?”
“An amount equal to one month’s rent if you’ll do the gentlemanly thing and allow a woman to return to her beloved home.”
Christ. Crystal Kerrigan could morph from arrogant snob to downtrodden victim in the blink of an eye just to suit her purposes.
“Why the sudden change of heart?”
Crystal lifted her shoulders. “My circumstances have changed.”
He turned to Paige. “Did you know about this?”
She shook her head. Her face was colorless; she looked cold and agitated. Her mother’s sudden appearance had obviously surprised her, but was she upset because she’d been caught with him and wearing nothing but a flimsy towel? Crystal couldn’t avoid the fact that he and Paige were more than just acquaintances. Did that bother Paige? Was he supposed to have been her grubby little secret?
As Paige glanced away, avoiding his gaze, a tight band formed around his chest like a python.
“Paige is my housekeeper,” he said to Crystal. “I guess you don’t know that either.” The sight of her blanching filled him with acid satisfaction. “She cooks me breakfast every day, does my laundry, cleans everything. She’s great.” The devil was in him, making him drape his arm over Paige’s shoulders. “Really great…”
Beneath his arm, Paige tensed. “It’s strictly temporary.” She shrugged him off, eyes frosty gray.
The invisible snake around his chest was almost cracking his ribs. Right, so now he knew what she thought of him. She was ashamed to be seen with him in front of her mother. He’d been sordid unfinished business, and she didn’t want anyone, especially her mother, knowing what she’d done with him.
“I like living here,” he said to Crystal. “I’m all settled now, and I don’t have the time or inclination to find another place.”
Frustration creased the woman’s forehead. “But I want my house back!”
Before her rant could continue, Paige abruptly turned to Owen. “Look, can’t we work something out? There are plenty of nice properties around Burronga you could move to.”
Of course he should have expected Paige to take her mother’s side, but why did it hurt so damned much? “None as nice as this.”
“What if my mother increased the compensation? Say, two…or even three months’ rent—”
“Paige!” Crystal spluttered.
Paige ignored her mother, keeping her gaze on Owen. “That’s a very generous offer, you have to admit.”
He searched her expression, wondering how the carefree start to the day had turned so ugly. The change had happened in the pool. Paige had looked at him, realized she’d slept with the effing pool boy, and regretted it. And her mother’s turning up had only emphasized her mistake. She wanted him gone; she wanted him out of her childhood home. He didn’t belong here or in her life. No matter what he did, he’d never be good enough for Paige.
“It’s generous, but the last thing I need is money.” He faced her, outwardly calm though his insides were seething. “I’m staying put.”
“I didn’t realize you were so attached to the place.”
Oh yes, this place was filled with frigging happy memories. He’d gladly give it away, but that would be admitting he wasn’t good enough to live here.
“You’ll get your house back,” he said to Crystal. “Eventually.”
Crystal’s hands jittered, her bloodred talons like claws. “Why are you doing this to me?” she fumed.
“Because he wants his revenge,” Paige said.
“Revenge for what?” Crystal appeared astonished.
“For the way we treated him.” Paige turned her gaze on Owen. “I led him on, and then rejected him. I went to the school dance with Eric, and when he gate-crashed, he was thrown out.”
“But that’s ridiculous. That happened so long ago, and of course you couldn’t
go to the dance with the pool boy. Everyone would have laughed at you.”
Owen rubbed his sternum where the python was back crushing his lungs. “If you’re trying to butter me up, you’re not doing a very good job.”
In the bristling silence, a man stepped into the conservatory whom Owen instantly recognized as Paige’s father.
“Edward!” Crystal beckoned at him urgently. “You won’t believe what’s happened.”
Paige’s father drew closer, looking mildly puzzled. He listened, poker-faced, as his wife filled in the details. “He refuses to move out.” Crystal threw up her hands. “Can you believe the nerve of him?”
Edward Kerrigan, always the dry and dispassionate character, looked calmly at Owen. “As you can see, my wife’s very keen to get our house back. Is there no way to change your mind?”
“No,” Owen bluntly stated. “No way.”
Crystal looked as if steam might blow from her ears. “This is my house,” she raged. “You don’t belong here.”
Shushing her, Edward drew his wife away. “I warned you this might be a waste of time.”
Crystal waggled her finger at Paige. “Come along, Paige. You can’t stay here.”
But Paige remained, her glare fixed on Owen. “You’re doing this because of me, aren’t you? Because of what I said to you before my mother turned up.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted the princess in my bed, and now that it’s done, I can get on with more important things.”
She flushed a dull red, his barb finding its mark but giving him equal pain.
“Glad we’re on the same page.” Tight-lipped, she pulled her towel closer to her body.
“Paige!” her mother barked from the door.
Owen took a deep breath, his ribs aching. “I guess this is where I say ‘You’re fired’ and you answer ‘No, I quit.’”
She lifted her chin, the flush fading from her cheeks, and once more, despite her mussed-up appearance, she was the immaculate, untouchable Paige Kerrigan. Forever out of his reach.
