He was surprised she hadn’t commented on the numerous cups of water he’d consumed. Soon, he’d have to use the throat spray tucked away in his valise. But he waited for the right time, when she wouldn’t notice. Maybe after she was asleep. “I checked out the back room on one of my water runs. Just one small bed back there.”
“This trailer is intended for one-person occupancy.”
“Then you take the bed. I’ll arrange some sort of nest out here.”
“No, you take the bed. You’ve already been coughing. Let’s not make it worse.”
She had noticed. “I’ll be fine.” He lied.
“Forget the gentleman stuff. You take the bed.”
“We could flip a coin. Though I’m not sure if we could find it or see it with just the penlight.”
“We could, uh, share the bed?”
Tempting solution. For a couple reasons. But not a wise idea. “Uh—”
“What I meant,” she rushed to add, “you take one side, I’ll take the other. If we can find enough blankets, we’ll roll one up and place it down the center. I, uh, saw that done in a movie once.”
He’d seen the same movie. The next scene showed the blanket on the floor and the couple wrapped in each other’s arms. Had she forgotten? Or remembered?
Chapter Eleven
“I’ll take the side closest to the door,” Shae called over her shoulder to the shape behind her. She hobbled down the hall in her blanket casing like an ambulatory hotdog. Once she reached the back room, she groped along the side of the bed until she felt the soft surface of the pillow. She reached underneath, grabbed the top of the blankets and pulled them down far enough so she could sit on the edge and swing in.
This was such a bad idea. What had possessed her to offer to share? As she recalled, the bed was hardly big enough for her. How could two people share it without rolling on top of each other? Her insides percolated at the thought. Too late now. She’d said her Good Samaritan piece and he’d taken her up on it.
She knew Ned followed by the stream of expletives muttered as he bumped into things along the way.
“What’s going on out there?”
“This is an obstacle course.”
She made out his form, darker against dark, when he reached the door. “The hall’s no more than eight foot long and a straight shot. How could you possibly collide with anything?”
“You ever tried to walk a straight line in pitch black? Okay, you just did. I’d bow to your superior night eyes, except I’m afraid I’d knock into something else.”
“Reach down. The bed starts about an arm’s length inside the room. The bottom is about even with the middle of the door.”
The mattress jolted. “Ah, damn!”
“I said reach down, not walk right into it.”
“You should’ve told me you meant the length of your arm, not mine.”
A heavy pressure crossed over her feet. “Okay, that’s me under those blankets you’ve pummeled.”
“Sorry. This isn’t easy when I’ve only seen this room for all of a few seconds.”
The mattress on the other side of the bed dipped under his weight. She clung to her edge, faced away from him. She had no idea how she’d react if their bodies inadvertently came in contact.
From way too close, he said, “I’ll sleep on top of the blankets.”
“Won’t you get cold?” Oh, God, the thought of his naked chest so close to her made her mouth go dry.
“In this steam bath? I doubt it. But just in case, I’ve got my trusty blanket to keep me warm. Since I doubt that’s going to happen, I’ll roll it up so we can use it for that virtue barrier you mentioned.”
“Virtue barrier? Oh, right.” That should keep things platonic. Not!
The next thing she knew, something soft batted her head. “What?”
“Sheesh, this bed is small! Sorry. That was the virtue wall under construction. Get ready. You’ll probably feel this, too.”
And she did, as the malleable “wall” was inserted between them. Was he putting her on by following through on her dumb idea? True, it did set up a sort of quilted reminder to go no farther, although, when sound asleep, a mass of blankets had never stopped her from sprawling across her own bed. She doubted it would halt Ned either, once sleep overtook him.
They lay there in silence. Shae hugged her side of the bed, straight as a plumb wall. A cloud of masculine heat wafted her way, curled around her like a caress and tempted her to move toward it.
Breathe, dammit, Shae. With effort, she unclenched the hands she’d fisted as her nails cut into her skin.
The bed shook. Then shook again. Ned wasn’t comfortable.
“How can you stand it under those blankets? I’m sweating up a storm.”
Without further thought, she turned and stuck her arm across the wall of blanket. She placed her hand where she thought his head would be. “Do you have a fever?” His forehead was wet with perspiration, but it didn’t feel hot to the touch.
“Well, nurse?”
“No fever. But, you’re right. It is a little stuffy in here.”
“That a window above the bed?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Wonder if it opens.”
She removed her hand just in time. Once again, the mattress jiggled as he shifted his weight. The bed creaked as he appeared to pull himself up. A small shaft of light shot through at the same time she heard what sounded like a wooden slat shifted. The bed shook again as he must have attempted to open the window.
He slid back into sleeping position. “Success! Let me know if this gets to be too much, either the cool air or the sound of the storm.”
“The rain won’t come in, will it?”
“No. Wind’s the other direction.”
She could use some cool air about now. Every time Ned shifted position, let alone sat up, her body heat inched up another degree. Maybe she could remove the blanket over her lower body? She’d still be able to protect her modesty—as long as she remained under and Ned above the blankets.
But would they remain in those spots as they slept? Deep, deep down, would she not prefer they both be under the covers? Maybe, from the safety of her own bed when she was alone, she could fantasize about the possibility. But not when he lay so close to her.
What little air the open window allowed to seep into the room didn’t help. She dismissed her concern that Ned might find his way under the blankets and opened the one wrapped around her. Much better. She stretched her legs as best she could while unable to move from side to side. She never slept in the nude. Something—panties or pajama bottoms—always covered her nether regions. This was…delicious!
She released a tiny moan.
“Shae?”
“Huh? Oh. Just stretched my back. Felt so good, I forgot you were here.”
“Uh, sure.” Surely she wasn’t… God, no! Not here. Not now. Not her. Still, that moan didn’t sound like she’d relieved a back cramp. Now he’d heard it, the moan kept repeating itself in his brain. How was a guy supposed to sleep when the sound of a woman’s—what? pleasure?—amplified itself to the point where his ears felt like the room screamed it.
Like most guys, it was the visual that turned him on—a woman’s eyes, her smile. Okay, a well-endowed breast or a curvaceous, spank-me ass got to him just as readily, in half the time. But sounds? Those were the audio signals that told a guy he’d gotten to the lady, turned her on. The kind of thing that encouraged him to go faster, deeper.
He had to stop these thoughts. Focus on something else. If his brain replayed that moan much more, his fella wouldn’t readily curl up and go to sleep. This wasn’t the time or place to follow through on his body’s hard attack. Painful as the notion was, he’d have to lie here this close to her and do nothing.
Exactly when had the woman next to him moved beyond builder status to object of desire? Before the moan. It had only solidified the thought. When she checked him for fever? When she’d suggested they share the
bed? When she’d peeled away her underwear and wrapped that blanket around her legs?
No. If he was really truthful, it had been earlier in the day, when she’d burst into the tent to confront him about the revised order. Even though he’d caused her no end of embarrassment with her suppliers and subs, she’d worked with him to make things right. Stayed with him even as the storm approached, despite her fear of the damned things.
They were quite the pair, her with her need for approval from her father, him with his need to protect a mother who didn’t need to be protected because he hadn’t been there when she had needed protection. Shae tried to conceal her fear of storms from him, he pretended his throat was okay.
“Ned? You still awake?” Her voice sounded different. Less fearful but also less confident than usual.
“Yeah. Why? You need to talk some more?”
“That sound you heard earlier? It wasn’t for the reason I said.”
“Really?” What on earth had led her to confess?
“I’d, uh, just removed the blanket from around my legs. I, uh, thought you should know, in case you changed your mind during the night and moved under the blankets.”
Was that a come-on? She wanted him to know she was half-naked, because…
“It’s not like you think,” she added, as if she’d read his mind.
“I’m not sure I know what to think.”
“That I was, uh, you know... Please, Ned, don’t make this any more embarrassing for me than it already is. This so-called blanket wall could no more hold you back if you rolled this direction than our clothes resisted all that rain earlier.”
“Was that an invitation or a prediction?”
“Neither. I thought if I mentioned it now, we could avoid a potential misunderstanding later on.” After a beat, she added, “Go to sleep. Don’t give it further thought.”
He wanted to strangle her. Don’t give it further thought? Unless by some miracle he’d fall asleep, that’s all he’d be doing. Yeah, Ned. Pretend your throat is fine. That your finances are sound. That you’re not sharing a bed with and practically on top of a gorgeous though naïve naked woman who’s within inches of your reach.
He groaned. Who could blame him?
“You okay over there?”
“What do you think, Shae? It’s like you told me not to notice the elephant in the room.”
She didn’t reply immediately. Had he scared her? Well, fine. She never should’ve told him.
“You’re right. It was a stupid thing to say. This whole idea to share the bed is dumb. But other than one of us on the floor, what else can we do?”
At least she’d finally realized what a dumb idea this was. Helped to know she was just as frustrated as he. “Maybe you just did. We already had an elephant in the room, sharing the bed. You had the guts to bring it up.”
Movement on her side of the bed. She must have sat up. “Leaving?” he asked.
She chuckled. “Not that generous. Just propped my head on my elbow. I thought we should talk about it.”
Women. Had to overanalyze everything. “Thought we just did.”
“It’s like this. At home I sleep in a queen-sized bed. I’m a night owl, and despite the darkness, it can’t be more than nine or nine-thirty right now. Usually the television blares to keep me company. I’m not accustomed to sharing my bed with anyone, let alone a superstar millionaire who happens to be my client. I am so uncomfortable, I could scream.”
He thought she was done, but apparently she just caught her breath. “Tomorrow, I will heartily deny I told you any of this. It’s not like me to open up so.”
That was for sure. As much as she talked project and construction, everything he’d learned about her personal life had either come from others or from times like this, when circumstances forced her to talk about herself.
He owed her something in return. “I have a king-sized bed. I nod off fast and sleep tight, but somehow I manage to occupy most of the space at some point during the night. Right now I feel like I’ve been nailed in a coffin with almost no air to breathe.”
“So. We’re both miserable.” Brief silence. “What if we sing ourselves to sleep?”
“Uh—”
“Oops. Sorry. Forgot about your no-singing thing. Okay, I’ll do it myself. I sing slightly off-key, but it’s better than nothing.” She started in on the chorus of a popular song, though not one of his.
She was right. She couldn’t carry a tune worth a damn. But he let her try. Maybe boredom would knock him out, which after a few minutes, actually happened. In the far depths of his subconscious, the low hum of her voice droned on a bit longer, then faded away.
The next thing he knew, he’d set sail on a treacherous, never-ending river. He clung to the small raft as it hurtled over swells he couldn’t control. His vessel shuddered and careened recklessly toward a wicked precipice. Beside him on the craft, Shae screamed.
The shriek brought him awake with a start only to realize the last part was real. Through streaks of light, which now flashed more frequently outside, he made out Shae’s form huddled against the back of the bed
He pulled her into his arms without a thought to the consequences. “Shh, shh,” he cooed, tried to calm her. The room felt cooler. Apparently the small opening in the window had done its job.
She dug her face into his chest, shook her head, all the while her body quivered. “Did…didn’t you hear it?” She drew away from him. “That explosion. It was…so close.”
He swiveled around to pull the window blind aside. Several hundred feet away, flames engulfed a tall oak. Even as he watched, though, the heavy downpour began to douse the fire.
“You’re right. It was close. But it’s over. The rain will prevent the spread.”
“You’re sure?” The voice was that of a scared little girl.
He stroked her hair, tangled now from sleep but still soft and silky. He lowered his lips to the top of her head. “Just one less tree to fell when we clear that spot. Everything’s going to be okay.” The hand that had touched her hair drifted down to the arm, which escaped from her blanket. “Just relax, sweetheart.”
Had he really said that?
Her body gave a tiny start. Yep, he’d really said it. Emerged as naturally as saying good morning. And she’d heard it.
She twisted to face him. Her breath lengthened, and in the fraction of the second in which the room lit up from the action outside, he could see her study him, as if to read his intentions.
Well, damn, what were his intentions? In this moment, there was no Just Past or About to Come. Only Now, endless, suspended. Near darkness. Only touch and smell and taste. Oh, hell! He bent and kissed her. Not like that miscued day in her office. This time was stronger, his action came from somewhere slightly to the left of Lust and a little bit shy of the Other L Word. He cared. Yeah. He cared.
Her lips reciprocated. Pressed harder, demanded more. Her arms went around his neck, pulled him closer.
This was crazy. There was only one way this would end, and like an out-of-control car that sped downhill, he knew there’d be no way to stop until it crashed at the bottom. Once they finished, things wouldn’t be the same. Was he ready for such a change?
The longer his lips remained on hers, the more his better judgment drained away, the Now obscured everything else. He drew her closer, one hand strayed under the blanket, down her back, onto one naked buttock.
His penis came alive. His brain turned off.
A sharp, cutting pain slashed through his throat. He released her to grasp his throat with both hands.
“Ned? What’s wrong?”
The pain was so severe he could only hold his throat. He felt rather than saw Shae hover over him.
“Your throat? How can I help?”
He couldn’t talk. The most he could manage was to lean over his side of the bed and grope around until he found the throat spray. He thrust it her direction until it rammed into her chest.
“What’s that?”<
br />
He’d also retrieved his penlight, which he pushed toward her now.
Shortly, the light came on, illuminated the bottle. “Throat spray. Okay, let me read the instructions first. Open your mouth.” She held the light with the other hand and directed it so she could see his uvula. Then she sprayed the back of his mouth liberally.
A moment later, reassuring warmth covered his body. Shae must have straightened out his blanket, and from the added weight, unrolled the virtue wall and placed it over him, too.
He closed his eyes and breathed with a little less effort. Within seconds, he drifted off.
****
Shae debated whether to let him continue to sleep or to wake him from time to time to check his condition. The storm appeared to have abated. The terror that had awakened her eased, and the moment of damn-the-torpedoes desire had flown. Ned’s breathing lengthened, and in a bit, she heard soft snoring.
He was out. Not much she could do for him now. They both needed their rest to cope with whatever challenges the morning presented.
As she eased her way over to her side of the bed, she felt the coolness on her naked bottom. She lifted the two blankets and climbed back under. At first, she clung once again to the side of the bed, didn’t dare get too close. Ned might be out for the night, but she wasn’t. Despite the lethargy that approached, she was acutely aware of his body so close to hers. The body with which could have shared an ill-advised night of passion had his throat not intervened.
Shae relaxed as she listened to the soft exhalations beside her. Inch by inch, she gave in to both the overwhelming need to move closer to him and overpowering fatigue. Before long, she spooned him and enjoyed the delicious nearness of this incredible hunk.
Just for tonight. They hadn’t indulged themselves physically. But she could indulge the heart that craved his presence, if only for this one night. She so wanted to be near him. If there was a toll to pay, she’d deal with it in the morning.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, Ned massaged his temples, attempted to rub away the pounding that had plagued him ever since he opened his eyes and recalled what had almost happened in the middle of the night. Big mistake to sleep in the same bed with Shae. Even if they’d been total strangers, to know she was so close, naked from the waist down, to take in her delectable fragrance, he would have succumbed to temptation. But he did know her—all her foibles, idiosyncrasies, now even her fear of storms—which made it worse. The feelings that clawed their way into his conscience for days, feelings he’d been worked so hard to suppress, took over. He wanted her.
Tough Enough to Tango Page 12
