by Nita Wick
* * * *
Michael reflected on the evening as he drove Haley home. Dinner had gone even more smoothly than he’d hoped. Thankfully, his mother didn’t ask questions about his and Haley’s relationship. Meg had even refrained from teasing them. His sister had kept the conversation going by talking about her new job, moving back to Knoxville, and finding an apartment. Haley had offered her apartment since she would be moving to her new home soon. He’d tried to asked questions about Haley’s house, but the three women had all but ignored him, making plans for Meg to stay with their mom until Haley moved.
He glanced away from the road to steal a peak at Haley. She sat with her head back on the headrest, eyes closed. Although she’d relaxed during supper and raved about his mom’s cooking, her relief had been obvious when she’d climbed into his SUV for the ride home.
Michael tore his gaze from her profile and forced himself to pay attention to the road. He recalled Haley’s reactions and responses to every question, every statement while they ate. After avoiding the topic of her new home, she’d become animated, excited even, about the idea of Meg taking over the lease on her apartment. Her enthusiasm hadn’t diminished at all when the conversation had turned to Meg’s new job, but an uncomfortable tension had emanated from her when his mom had asked about Haley’s profession. Again, Haley had repeated her usual “between jobs” explanation, but she’d pointedly avoided details. Once, she’d even looked at him with the nervous, helpless expression of a cornered rabbit. Taking that as his cue, he’d changed the subject and asked for dessert.
Why was her former job such a secret? And in all his years of designing houses, he’d never met anyone who didn’t want to talk about their new home. Crazy thoughts of illicit professions and houses of ill repute skittered through his mind as he pulled into the parking lot of Haley’s apartment. Just as quickly, he dismissed the insane notion, despite the echoes of her words about catering to the whims of the rich and famous. No way could she be involved in something like that. Not Haley. But now he was bound and determined to find out just what kind of business the gorgeous woman had owned. And while he was at it, he’d find out why she didn’t want to discuss her new home.
Haley’s soft sigh drew his attention. She pulled the handle on her door and slid down off the seat and out of his car. He pulled the keys from the ignition and followed suit to trail after her toward the front gate.
She turned and smiled at him. “Supper with your mom wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d feared.”
He shrugged. “I told you she was cool.”
“Thank you so much for—”
“Oh, no, babe. Don’t even think about sending me on my way. I’ve waited patiently all day for a few minutes alone with you.” He gave her his best pleading look. Even his mom had been hard-pressed to deny him anything when he used it.
She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” He ran the tip of his finger down her cheek and fought the triumphant smile brought on by the audible catch of her breath.
Haley stepped back, putting more space between them. “I’m not going to sleep with you, Michael.”
He sucked in a strangled breath. “I wasn’t asking you to.” Was he? He hadn’t actually thought about the specifics. He just wanted to get her alone, and yet now that she’d mentioned it, images of her wearing nothing but those big orange earrings distracted him. He pushed the enticing thoughts away. “But since you’ve brought it up, I have to ask. Why not?”
“I can’t do casual sex. I’ve tried it. I just can’t.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the implication. “Define casual.”
Her gaze dropped. “You know. Sex just for pleasure. I can’t sleep with a guy if I don’t care about him. I did that once in college. I felt dirty and used the next day.”
Michael could hardly breathe. It felt like she’d hit him square in the gut. Or maybe in the chest. An iron fist currently gripped his heart, preventing it from beating. He swallowed the lump in his throat, telling himself that she hadn’t yet had time to develop feelings for him. “I see. Well, I guess—”
Haley reached for his hand. Her soft, blue eyes met his. “And if I do care about a guy…If I really like him…” The vulnerability in her expression both pained him and sparked a flicker of hope. “I can’t sleep with him without getting my feelings all tangled up. I just can’t keep it casual.”
The fist released its hold on his heart. He took a deep breath and squeezed the hand that held his. “I think you know it wouldn’t be casual for me either.”
She bit her lip. “That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m not ready, Michael.”
Michael stared at her for a moment, considering his options. There were dozens of women out there who’d sleep with him tonight, but Haley was the only one he found appealing at the moment. He could seduce her. It ought to be easy enough. She wanted him whether she’d admit it or not. He could kiss her senseless and have her in bed within the hour.
And then what?
The answer slapped him with a cold, unwelcome certainty. She’d run. He had no doubt he could get her into bed tonight, but it would be the only time. And damn it all to hell, once would not be enough.
He watched her bite her bottom lip, a nervous habit she exhibited whenever he did anything to try and move their relationship past the “just friends” stage. If he wanted long-term, he would have to find the patience. He brushed her cheek. “Then I’ll wait until you are ready.”
Haley sighed and shook her head. “It might be a while. I don’t want to lead you on. You’re a great guy, but I don’t want a relationship. You can’t even have a real relationship without trust, and I don’t trust anybody—”
He covered her lips with his fingers. “I’m willing to earn your trust, babe. But you have to give me a chance. Now invite me up.”
Her eyes widened. “Michael…”
“I just want to hold you.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips across her cheek to her ear. “I want to kiss you,” he whispered.
She leaned into him. “I don’t know.” The breathless words told him otherwise. She did know. She knew she wanted his kisses, but she was afraid of being hurt.
He’d show her she could trust him. He’d take her upstairs, and even if it killed him, he’d kiss her and hold her just like he said. No more. “Invite me up, Haley. I don’t want everyone in the building to watch me kiss you.”
Chapter Seven
Haley closed the door behind them, her heart racing. This was stupid. Why couldn’t she resist the guy? Dozens of sexy, handsome men had hit on her in New York over the years. She’d never had any trouble walking away from them. Why couldn’t she say no to Michael? Now here she was, alone in her apartment with him.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She stood facing the closed door, trying to remember all the reasons gorgeous men like Michael Flannery were bad news. He moved behind her, standing close enough for her to feel his heat. Her body reacted immediately.
“Finally.” His warm breath stirred the hair next to her ear. Soft lips grazed her neck. “Alone.”
She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Stupid.
But oh, so nice.
He turned her in his arms. His gaze caught hers for only a moment before he claimed her lips. The kiss stole her breath and her will. Foolish or not, she’d be lying if said she didn’t like it, didn’t want it.
His lips never left hers as his arm swept behind her thighs and lifted her. The floating sensation sent warning bells ringing in her head, but with his tongue tangling with hers, the alarm went unheeded. She clung to him, arms around his neck, and returned the kiss. Her breasts swelled and tightened. His hands skimmed down her sides, grazing the sides of the sensitive mounds. The touch had her moaning into his mouth, unable to reign in her body’s treacherous response.
He broke the sensational kiss with a growl and leaned his head back. Haley realized he’d seated them on the couch with her in h
is lap. Judging by the solid ridge pressing against her bottom, his body had reacted as quickly as her own.
His hand travelled down her leg to her foot. He pulled off her tennis shoe and tossed it under the coffee table. Her other shoe joined it along with Michael’s boots.
He kissed her again, long and slow. His tongue traced her lips and delved inside to dance with hers. “Your kisses could turn a gay man straight.” A gravelly, husky tone enhanced his already sexy, baritone.
“Are you gay?”
“Hell no. So you can imagine what those kisses are doing to me.”
She wiggled her bottom against him. “I don’t need my imagination.”
He groaned. “Tell me about your house.”
Haley stiffened. “Why?”
He rubbed her back. “Because I’m an architect, and houses interest me.” His darkened green gaze roamed over her, his other interests clear. “And because I need a distraction.”
She should just tell him and have done with it. Tell him everything. Tell him about the house and about her, who she was, what she did. What was the sense in hiding it anyway? He’d find out eventually. But should she tell him tonight? Now? Would he really believe that her house was a sign from above like Meg suggested? And if he learned that she was the Haley Preston—the multi-millionaire, the award-winning interior designer to the filthy rich—would he treat her differently? Or would his pursuit of her intensify, increased by the lure of her money and fame?
He nuzzled her neck. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He nibbled the sensitive skin below her ear and trailed kisses to the pulsing vein at the base of her throat.
She clenched her jaw. The man would have her begging him to take her if she didn’t do something. As tempting as it was to throw caution to the wind, a voice of reason, one filled with warnings of heartbreak and betrayal screamed for her to resist. “My house overlooks Wear’s Valley.”
His lips stilled, and he rested his forehead against her shoulder. “On the mountain?”
“Yes. It’s on a twenty-acre tract of land. You can’t see it from the road, but the view of the valley is incredible.”
He lifted his head, but he didn’t meet her gaze. His fingertips traced the edge of her camisole. “Twenty acres. That must have set you back a pretty penny. How big is the house?”
With a jolt, she realized her hand had been roaming across the broad expanse of his chest. She stilled it and shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Big enough, but not too big. Three bedrooms, two and a half baths, a large den, an office.”
“Are you warm?”
Confused she looked into his eyes. “What?”
“Your sweater.” He tugged on the sleeve. “Aren’t you a little warm?”
She shook her head. Yes, she was very warm, but she doubted it had anything to do with the sweater. “I’m fine.”
He grinned. “Liar.”
“No really. I’m not uncomfortable.” But maybe it was a little warm in the apartment. She sat up straight and tried to climb off his lap. “I could adjust the thermostat if you want.”
Michael grasped her hips and pulled her back. “Haley, that was code for ‘Can I take off your sweater?’.”
“Oh.” The heat in her cheeks almost matched that in her nether region. “It’s been years since I dated someone new. I guess I don’t understand code anymore.”
He chuckled. “No problem. In the future, I’ll remember to be more direct.” His smile filled her belly with butterflies. “Can I take off your sweater?”
He’d already released the first button when she nodded. “Okay.” The word came out in a breathless whisper. She closed her eyes and ignored her screaming conscience. Yes, damn it. She knew it was stupid thing to do, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t as if he’d asked to remove her bra.
Michael pulled the sweater off and draped it across the arm of the sofa. His palms slid up her bare arms. Electric current followed his movements. “Who designed your house?”
She almost choked. “I…I didn’t even know the name of the architect until yesterday.” Panic engulfed her. She couldn’t tell him. Not now. Not like this with her senses dulled by his kisses and his touch. She groped for an excuse, a way to stall him. “Would you like to see it?”
“Yes, I would.” He kissed the curve of her breast just above the lace of the camisole. “Very much.”
She nodded and buried her fingers in his thick, blond hair. “We can go tomorrow.” Tomorrow she might be able to reveal her secrets without feeling like she was bearing her soul, too.
A frown marred his features. “I can’t. I promised Meg I’d take her to the airport.”
Relief coursed through her. An extra day would be even better. “Monday afternoon?”
He shook his head. “I’ll be lucky to get out of the office before midnight on Monday. The interior design crew can’t seem to please Mr. Maynor. I’ll be working with them trying to come up with something.”
Thank heaven. “What about Tuesday?”
“I don’t know, babe. I can’t promise anything until Mr. Maynor is happy. This design could make me a partner.” He stared into her eyes. “You understand, don’t you?”
Haley smiled. “Of course.” She snuggled against him, pleased with the delay. She’d have more time to figure out just what to say. With her head on his shoulder, she sighed in contentment. “I’ll show you the house some other time. Maybe the floors will be finished by then.”
His hand stroked down her back, over the curve of her hip, and down her thigh while the other cradled her head against his chest. She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent that somehow excited her and calmed at the same time. How could she be so aroused and yet so tranquil? Just being near Michael had her hormones in overdrive, but sitting here with him seemed so right.
* * * *
Haley’s lids fluttered open. Michael’s heartbeat thrummed an even rhythm beneath her ear. She looked up and scanned his features, boyish and innocent as he slept. A peek at the wall clock stunned her with the revelation that she’d been here in Michael’s lap for more than two hours. Then again, if her bladder hadn’t sent her a wakeup call, she had no doubt she could have spent the entire night right here.
Carefully, she eased out of his arms and stood. She gazed down at him, watching him sleep. What kind of man has a woman alone in her apartment for hours and doesn’t try to seduce her?
And why was she disappointed about the fact that he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation? She should be happy. He’d given his word, and he’d kept it. It was what she’d wanted. Wasn’t it? She choked back an irritated groan and stepped away from him.
In her bathroom she relieved herself and washed her hands. The woman in the mirror stared back at her, miserable, confused, frustrated, and torn. Already she missed the heat from Michael’s body, the strength and safety he provided. But was she really safe in his arms? Or would he demolish her heart as Keith had done?
Haley cursed beneath her breath. How could she even compare Michael and Keith? The tall, sexy Irish architect was nothing like Keith. They were both male, and while that alone made her weary, all similarities ended with their gender. Keith had been more concerned with his hairstyle than with friends or family. The fact that image and social standing had been top priorities for Keith had been her main reason for sending out those pictures in the wedding cancellation notices. She knew the damage to his precious reputation would hurt him more than anything else she could do to him.
Michael wasn’t like that at all. He didn’t pursue her because of her money or elite status. He didn’t lie to get what he wanted. The man must have known he could have easily seduced her. She’d been unable to deny his kisses or even hide her reaction to them. He’d done exactly as he’d promised. He’d held and kissed her.
But damn it all, she wanted more than that. Her body craved his touch, yearned to feel his hands against the bare skin of her breasts, ached to have him fill her. And why should she deny herself? She was
a grown woman, not some teenaged virgin. If she slept with him now, there would never be any doubt that he’d wanted her. Her. Not her money. Not a place next to her in high society. Michael only wanted her.
Haley pulled the orange camisole over her head to reveal a silky peach bra trimmed in white lace. It wasn’t Tennessee orange, but it was as close as she could find in the lingerie store she and Meg had visited in Pigeon Forge. She slid the jeans over her hips and kicked them off. The orange socks followed in quick succession, leaving only the bra and matching lace panties. She brushed her hair and teeth, dabbed on a little perfume, and examined herself again in the mirror.
Color rose to her cheeks but not from embarrassment. Just considering what she was about to do had her skin flushed, her heart racing, and her sex pulsing. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She wanted Michael. There was no denying that. Yes, she could very well end up with a broken heart again. She already liked him too much. In only two short weeks, she’d managed to fall for the guy. Hard. Sleeping with him would only increase the emotional connection, at least for her. She’d just have to make sure she wasn’t blinded by the promise of love this time.
Looking back on the years she’d spent with Keith, she recognized the signs of his infidelity. Too bad she’d only realized it after she’d been slapped in the face with irrefutable proof. She’d been naïve and foolish.
Not this time. This time, if she were going to have a relationship with Michael, with any man, she would do it with open eyes. She would watch for hints that not only indicated duplicity but also anything that might show a weakness in the relationship. With the benefit of hindsight, it was easy to see that she and Keith hadn’t really been suited for each other. She just hadn’t understood it at the time, hadn’t wanted to. Everyone, including Sheila, had assured her that she and Keith made the perfect couple. If she’d been honest with herself and listened to her head a little more and her heart a little less, she could have saved herself a lot of heartache.
