“Nothing wrong with taking pleasure where you find it,” he countered.
“You’re right. I like watching you wallow in luxury and pleasure. You do it with such flair.” Nina was going to have to have serious words with Alex about his smile, though. He really needed to use it a little more sparingly. Maybe only in the dark.
They reached Tallahassee and found a hotel just off I-10 that looked okay. The woman at reception gave them connecting rooms and that was okay too. Together but not. Close enough to ask Alex what he felt like for dinner and hear him reply from his bathroom.
“Buffalo wings.”
“Seriously?”
“Steakhouse, then. Bar and grill.”
Moments later Alex appeared in the connecting doorway between the two rooms, freshly showered and wearing nothing but a low-slung white towel. Nina was used to being up close and personal with other people’s scantily clad bodies. She’d come to expect a certain level of fitness and strength from the performers and acrobats she worked with. Alex wasn’t a performer though, so she hadn’t really been expecting quite such a stunning body on him.
Nina’s gaze slid south, following a happy trail that started somewhere below his belly button and disappeared beneath the towel.
“Nina.”
‘What?” Eyes to his face, Nina. No, not his entirely too kissable lips. Try his eyes. There. Much better. No inappropriate lusting happening here.
“Steakhouse,” he said again, with the quirk of a dark eyebrow. “Ribs.”
Yes indeed. Ribs. Right there, somewhere below all that magnificently defined muscle. Eyes, Nina. Concentrate on his warm hazel eyes with the lovely long lashes. Did the man ever not laugh with his eyes?
“Perfect,” she whimpered. Whimpering was so not her style. Nor was simpering—so whatever her mouth was doing, it wasn’t that. “I’m just going to go and get”—she gestured toward the room behind her with one arm and reached for the door handle with the other—“clean.”
The connecting door swung shut with an audible thump. Nina slumped against the nearest wall with an audible curse.
So much for spending this trip worrying about returning home. There just wasn’t enough time for that, what with worrying about all the mixed messages she was sending her dear, platonic friend Alex.
How was it that he managed to shine so much brighter outside the circus scene than within it? Because, truly…even within the circus family he shone plenty brightly.
The first time they’d ever met—at the “let’s get to know the new financial guy” meeting Alex had insisted the entire circus attend—Nina had pegged him as someone who couldn’t be ignored. The way her body had reacted to his handshake wasn’t cool. The heat at her fingertips and the furnace low in her belly. The way she’d wanted to straighten her shoulders and maybe change out of her sweat-stained practice clothes and into something a little more elegant. A little lip gloss wouldn’t have hurt either.
And then she’d watched him turn his charm on every other person in the room, and the notion that something wild and unique had sparked between her and Alexander Carradice had been well and truly laid to rest.
He had that effect on everyone. Smiled at every person he met as if they were the only person in the room.
Just good social politics, as her mother might say. A handy thing for a man in a position of power to have.
The next time they’d met, she’d felt the heat of him again, only she’d been ready for him this time and she’d swatted the desire away. Alexander Carradice was a player, and Nina didn’t play.
Friendship. That was what she’d offered and that was what he’d taken. Movie marathons with a dozen other people present and bottled water breaks in the middle of a busy day. A certain level of attentiveness—like the way he always seemed to know when all was not well in her world.
Friendship, strong and nurturing. Better than being his lover.
His lovers never lasted long, and the break was absolute.
“No lusting, Nina,” she murmured to herself. “Not now. Not that one.”
Better his friendship than nothing at all.
Chapter Three
Dinner made things easier. Dinner at a steakhouse sports bar equaled noise and people, big-screen televisions, more food than they could eat, and waitstaff buzzing attentively around Alex because that was what happened when the man smiled.
“You’re regretting bringing me,” he said when his appetite had been assuaged and they’d forgone dessert in favor of top-shelf whiskey, no ice.
“Not at all.” It was much easier to talk to the man when he had his clothes on. Something to remember. “Just coming to terms with the notion that I may not know you quite as well as I thought I did. My bad.”
“What would you like to know?”
“When I asked you once why you ended up at the circus, you said rebellion. I never did get around to asking you what you were rebelling against.”
“Family expectations, for the most part. That and the lot of an Oxford business and politics graduate.”
“Which is?”
“Boardrooms. Corridors of power. My family gave me one year to get the wanderlust out of my system.”
He’d been with the circus for almost two. “So when are you going home?”
Alex shrugged and traced the rim of his whiskey glass with the tip of his finger before picking it up and draining the glass in one swallow. “Soon. My uncle died recently, and my father had to assume a great many family responsibilities. He could use my help.”
“Can’t he just employ someone?” Nina tried hard to keep the dismay out of her voice but couldn’t quite manage it. She was used to people coming and going from the circus. Moving around the world from one show to the next, following the dance or the wind or simply a yearning for something new. But somewhere along the way she’d pegged Alex as someone who might stay. “Not the way it works.” Alex signaled the waitress for another drink and she nodded on her way past, her tray already full. “You going to miss me?”
“Of course I’m going to miss you. I was just getting used to you.”
“I’ve been here two years, Nina.”
“People come. People go.” Nina stared broodingly at him, trying to imagine her days without him. “It takes me a while to let people close.”
“I noticed.”
“If I know they’ve got itchy feet I usually don’t bother.”
“I noticed that too. You like permanence. Dealing with the same people day after day. It’s an odd trait for a circus performer. For any performer.”
Nina took the criticism in silence.
“It’s not a criticism, Nina. More of an observation.”
“Stop reading my mind.”
The waitress slid another whiskey in front of Alex and collected the empty. “Thanks,” he murmured.
“So where’s home for you?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject. Somewhere in England, she knew that much. But she didn’t know where.
“Derbyshire.”
“Seriously? Mr. Darcy territory?” Okay, that was cool. “Is it as pretty as the pictures?”
Alex looked up at her, his eyes hooded and undecipherable. “You could always come and see for yourself.”
Nina didn’t know if he was joking or not. Alex didn’t seem inclined to enlighten her.
“Tell me about your family,” he said, in that way he had of making a command sound like a question. “Tell me what you’re going back to.”
“Well…” It was a fair question. “My father is Theodore Moreau. Teddy when he’s on the golf course. Means nothing to you, but plenty in Bellefleur. Old money. Status. And once upon a time, slaves. Don’t mention the war.”
“Which war?”
“Englishman,” she scolded him. “Always with the world view. You’re in the South now.”
“Oh, that war.”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Do you want to know about my family or not?”
“I do.”
&nbs
p; “So. The old money connections don’t just come from my father’s side of the family. My mother can claim them too. Which pretty much makes them a golden couple.”
“Was it a love match?”
“I think so. But their union was also soaked in family approval from both sides. Anyway, my father wanted a son and got two daughters and a wife who couldn’t have any more children. He tried to make do. Honey followed in my mother’s footsteps. Charity work. Fund-raising. Smoothing the way. She has a master’s degree in the humanities with a major in politics. Speaks fluent French and Spanish. She was raised to be one-half of a politically powerful duo.”
“That how you were raised too?”
“Well, they tried.” Nina grimaced and reached for her whiskey. “And I tried. The problem with me was that I just wanted to dance. Which might have been acceptable had I stuck with ballet. Instead I took it to the air and joined the circus, and that was the end of a profitable political match as far as my family was concerned.”
“Seems a little shortsighted.”
“No, they’re right.” Nina swirled the amber spirit around in her glass and downed it in one unladylike swallow, welcoming the burn and the sudden lack of air that went with it. “Still…profit and politics and status aren’t everything. I haven’t given up on finding someone who’d be a good match for me.”
“What would he be like, this good match for you?”
“Tolerant,” Nina offered. “Even after I stop performing, I’ll still want to be involved with dance. Teach it. Enjoy it.”
“Fund-raise for it,” he suggested with a kick to his lips, and Nina smiled back.
“You never know.”
“What else do you look for in a man besides tolerance? Doesn’t seem like much to ask.”
And yet…it was. “Heart,” she said firmly. “Laughter. Loyalty. And body awareness. Doesn’t have to be athlete fit—he just needs to be able to use his body well. Know what it can do.”
“I’m daunted.”
“You shouldn’t be. Not from what I hear.”
Alex smiled lazily. “You want a good lover.”
“No, I want a superb lover who doesn’t lack for size, stamina and who will—on occasion—let me show him the way.”
“You want a horse.”
“A valiant man will do.”
“Why don’t you try me?” he murmured, and Nina felt her teasing smile falter.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Try me.” Alex’s voice had that quiet, roughed-up quality to it that set Nina’s body to melting. “I fancy you, Nina.”
“But—the Carradice groupies? The flirting with everyone but me? More than flirting. Some of them you took home.”
“Some. In the beginning. But I figured out what I wanted quickly and stopped with the rest.” Alex met her gaze and didn’t look away. “The only person, circus-wide, who’s never been fully aware of where my real interest lies…is you.”
No smile on him now. Alex was serious.
He leaned forward, elbows on the tabletop, stretching out his long frame until suddenly he was almost on her side of the table. “Want to try something?”
“Depends.”
“Kiss me.”
“You mean as in right here? Right now?”
“Doesn’t have to be much of a kiss, Nina. Just a taste. And then we’ll know.”
“But… Our friendship. What if we ruin our friendship?”
“It wouldn’t be much of a friendship if it couldn’t withstand a kiss. If it doesn’t work, we go back to being friends.”
“And if it does work?”
Alex smiled.
“But you’re leaving soon,” she persisted. “If it does work, what happens then?”
“You always need a guarantee?” he murmured.
“Starting something you know you can’t finish is never a good idea.”
“I thought I had more time to court you, Nina. Turns out I don’t. So this is me. Starting with the courting. Starting with a kiss. I just need the lady’s encouragement.”
Alex could persuade fairies to ride elephants, never mind that fairies could fly.
Nina leaned forward, elbows on the table. And then very chastely pressed her lips to his.
No pressure.
No fireworks or falling stars.
Just softness and warmth and a ropy thread of anticipation that wouldn’t go away.
And then Alex traced a slick path along the seam of her lips with his tongue and she opened for him, and he slanted his head, closed his eyes, and kissed her.
He tasted of good scotch and sharp desire, and his mouth moved on hers with a sensuality that took her breath away. The curl of his tongue against her own. Of tongue against teeth…
Adrenaline slammed into her, the kind that only came when hanging by a thread. Nina might have moaned. She didn’t care.
His lips were shiny when finally he broke the kiss.
Utterly sexy, the way he sucked his lower lip into his mouth, still close enough to return for seconds. And from the look in his eyes, he definitely wanted seconds.
So did she. And thirds. Nina wanted the whole damn feast and to hell with rational thought.
And then the waitress stopped by their table, just long enough to set the bill on it and flash them a smile before moving off again.
Good waitress. Family establishment.
Time to leave.
Alex drew back, smiling crookedly. “You think that’s a hint?”
Nina nodded and stood, her skin too tight for her body, her body too hot for her clothes. Alex tossed a couple of bills on the table and followed her toward the door, his long strides eating up the ground she’d put between them, and then he was behind her, holding the door open, getting the car door for her, all easy, ingrained manners and subtle air of assurance. He’d always possessed both—his behavior wasn’t all that surprising.
Except for the kissing. And the seduction. The barely leashed tension in him.
That was new.
The drive to the hotel was short and largely silent. Nina couldn’t stop staring at the way Alex’s long fingers grasped the steering wheel; at the way he spread his legs as wide as he could get them within the confines of the car, the heft in his crotch impressive.
“You keep looking where you’re looking and we are never going to get back to the hotel,” he said, his jaw rigid and his gaze never leaving the road. “We’re going to get arrested.”
“For speeding?” He wasn’t slowing down any, and Nina gave in to the urge to reach out and rest her fingertips on the back of his neck, twine a too-long curl around her index finger, and give it a gentle tug. “Slow down,” she whispered.
“Can’t,” he said with grim good humor. “I’m all out of time.”
But they made it to the hotel and inside his room before he reached for her again, and this time Alex held nothing back and Nina followed his lead. Deep, drugging kisses and muted moans. Skin on heated skin as first his shirt went, then hers, peeling them off slowly at first and then picking up speed.
The bed. Alex sitting on the edge of it, still wearing his jeans, and Nina climbing into his lap. Cool sheets against her knees. The hard band of his arm around her waist as he slid his other hand beneath her skirt and stroked.
“Say you want this,” he whispered, rubbing her up exactly right.
“I want this.” As she closed her eyes and his thumb slid beneath her panties. “I want you. I have for a long time. But if this destroys our friendship I’m going to kill you.”
“It won’t.”
“It might.”
“I won’t let it.” And then he was rolling her over onto the bed and ridding her of the rest of her clothes, and his too, and grabbing a foil packet from his jeans pocket, and there was no going easy and no going back. Nina didn’t want to go back. All over him now, closing around his hardness and clenching hard and forcing a groan from him that she wanted to hear over and over and over again until he was stripped out a
nd trembling. Oh, the noises he made—they were beautiful and broken and all for her.
And then he leaned back, arms braced against the bed, and rode up into her with a roll of his hips that took her breath away. “There,” she whimpered.
A lazy smile as he sucked at her lower lip and sent sparks skittering toward her stomach from a different direction. “Where?”
“Right there.” From her lips straight into his waiting mouth.
And then there was no room for talking anymore; it was all Nina could do to remember to breathe as she began to wind up. Higher. Higher than she’d ever been before, as she clamped around him, feeling everything: the shudders of her own body, the almost brutal snap of Alex’s hips as he pulsed out his own release just moments behind hers. So good. Blindingly good.
Nina stayed weightless for such a long time, riding the high, before finally letting go and tumbling bonelessly into free fall.
Chapter Four
“It’s a miracle,” Nina said the following morning as she slid from a wrecked bed complete with dozing sex god still in it and discovered that, yes, her legs still functioned. “I can walk.”
“Good for you.” Alex rolled onto his stomach and tucked his arms underneath his scrunched-up pillow. He turned his head a fraction and dropped his arm a little to look at her. Muscles rode his back and Nina eyed the play of them. “Not sure I can,” he muttered, his words muffled by the pillow. “Why even try until morning?”
“It is morning.”
“Can’t be. I just got to sleep.”
“Not morning’s problem. It’s eight a.m.”
Alex groaned. She did love it when he groaned. “The dawn raid was your fault,” he muttered. “I distinctly remember being asleep when it started.”
“The dawn raid was a thing of beauty,” she agreed smugly. Slow and sweet, full of sleepy kisses and incoherent murmurings. But he’d come for her once more, and Lord knows she’d come apart all over him. “Up,” she ordered. “We need to get moving. Miles to cover. Places to be.”
“I’ll shower after you.” Those stunning green eyes were close to closing again.
When Honey Got Married Page 12
