Blame It On Paris

by Jennifer Greene

  The sitting area was just as beaten up as the rest of the house, but she had a couch, a chair; her computer equipment nested on a minidesk. A fake Tiffany lamp offered some soft light. And three unopened cans of paint stood at the door, receipt still taped on a lid.

  In a glance, Will took it in, easily concluded she'd done a good job of making the ghastly place livable, at least for the short term. More than that, he saw the scarf. It was draped over the top of the bureau mirror. The blue-and-white silk scarf he'd gotten her that last day in Paris.

  And on the scratched bureau top was a minitray, with the perfume.

  When she saw him glancing there, she plunked down on the edge of the couch.

  "Okay, I can tell you're not too impressed with my fancy digs. What can I say? This is what happens when you take off in the middle of the night with the clothes on your back and have to start over." She made a humorous motion. "Don't be feeling sorry for me. I'm not suffering. Nothing's long-term catastrophic. I'd just bought a lot for the other apartment, and I didn't take any of it with me, so I'm just having a wee little temporary financial problem. I'm solvent. It's a no-sweat. It's just…I need to have some time to build up again."

  "Why?" Not that he'd been waiting to pounce with that question, but he suddenly had too much energy to sit down. Jet lag had turned his brain to mush, but finally the obvious answer filtered through. "You left the fiancé, didn't you? That's why you're here. That's why your mom-"

  She shook her head swiftly, wouldn't give him a chance to finish. "I'm not coming through with more story until you spill yours. The last I knew, you weren't coming home again. Especially not home to South Bend."

  "Yeah, well, it's your fault I did."

  "My fault?"

  He loved the look on her face. Of course, growing up with sisters, he knew how to get a rise out of a female, but Kelly bit so easily.

  At least for him. "I got a call from my father. My mom's sixtieth birthday is coming up. Family wants to do a big shindig, wants me to be part of it. It was his latest excuse to get me to come home."

  "And?"

  "And…you annoyed the hell out of me. Making out like I was hiding in Paris. Making out like I didn't have the character to solve my differences with him…instead of believing me, that there is no way in hell to solve our differences with each other."

  "And?"

  "And so I'm going to solve the damned problem, come hell or high water. I'll try one more confrontation. One more hash-out with the old man. It won't work. I figure the odds are somewhere around five million to one. But being part of my mom's sixtieth-birthday celebration is a good thing."

  Hell. She gave him a look of such sympathy that he wanted to kick something. He'd wanted her to think it was no big deal, just something he was doing, not a life-altering problem. It had bugged him that she'd criticized him. as if he had total power over a solution, as if it didn't take two to make a mess. Damn, she'd made him feel like a weakling and a coward, both of which had hit big-time.

  But now her look of compassion bugged him, too. Go figure.

  "I know you won't believe this," she said gently, "but I really do know how you feel."

  "About my dad?" She couldn't possibly. And somehow he couldn't sit still, had to move, stretch his legs, prowl around. He touched the Tiffany lamp, the edge of a sweater, checked out the window views.

  "No, not about your dad. But… your life is just as much of a train wreck as mine is. Nothing's right. Nothing's easy right now." She sighed. "Everybody's mad at me. I swear I can't seem to do anything right, and I'm afraid it's going to be a big blue moon before I can see any light at the end of this particular tunnel."

  He said slowly, carefully. "It was rough on you. Breaking up with him. You want to tell me about it?"

  "Maybe. Not now. But I do want to tell you that he's a nice guy. Will, so don't be thinking otherwise. The screwup and breakup is on me, not him." She added quickly, hoping to change the subject. "How long will you stay?"

  "Here, this minute? Or here, in South Bend?"

  "Both."

  He was willing to answer her, but his head was still back on the ex-fiancé. He couldn't help feeling high as a kite that she'd split up with the guy. But he also felt terrible because their making love in Paris had been the catalyst for all the difficult life changes she'd been making. Maybe he wasn't responsible for her being stuck living in this college-type dump, but it felt like his fault.

  "Will?"

  Yeah. She wanted him to answer the question. "Well, this is what's playing out so far. My parents know I'm home, but I haven't seen them yet. First, I had to get off the plane, see you, sleep off some jet leg and get my own place to stay so there can't be any argument about my staying with my folks. I've got three sisters. I know I told you that before. The oldest is Martha. We've always fought like cats and dogs, but she's got a studio apartment above her garage, so that's where I shoved my suitcase."

  'That doesn't totally answer my question, handsome."

  "Yeah, well. I don't know how long I'm staying. I can do some work for Yves while I'm here."

  "Will."

  "What?"

  "Answer the question."

  "God, you're a pain. I forgot how much. And how nosy." His teasing made her chuckle, but he couldn't seem to keep his mind on humor. All he could think about was her. How she looked under her jeans, under a bulky sweater. Under his hands.

  He also couldn't stop being acutely aware that he hadn't kissed her yet. Or touched her. She had a hint of wariness in her eyes, which he could understand. His coming back created even more complications in her life, and right now. Kel had no way of knowing whether they were going to end up together.

  Hell, neither did he.

  He cleared his throat. "The truth is. Kel. I can't give you an absolute about how long I'll be staying. One way or another, I'm determined to come to some kind of terms with my father. I'm staying for however long it takes to do that right."

  He wanted to add. More than anything else, I'm staying for you. He hadn't slept since she'd left Paris. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. stop remembering their time together.

  But being with her now, those words weren't so easy to say even if they were part of the real truth. Because now he realized she'd come home and torn her whole life apart. The jerk wasn't right for her. Will didn't have to meet the fiancé to know he wasn't worth Kelly's little finger. This Jason guy hadn't been there for her when she'd been in trouble in Paris, hadn't been the one she'd called, hadn't been the one she'd asked for money until the paperwork all went through. She was well rid of him.

  That's what Will told himself. What he'd believed before seducing her. What he still believed.

  But there was a blot on his conscience. Just maybe, if he hadn't entered her life. Kelly wouldn't be in this mess right now.

  "Good grief," Kelly said suddenly, and started to laugh.

  "What?" he demanded.

  "I don't know… It's just that your life sounds as complicated and awful as mine is right now. And I don't mean that's laughable! But it keeps striking me as ironic that we're in such a similar boat. And…well…this is just so not like Paris."

  "You said it." He swiped a hand over his face. "Paris was…a dream."

  "A fantasy," she murmured. "A few moments in time when the rest of the world seemed to disappear, and there was just the two of us."

  "It was good," he said.

  "Beyond good."

  "But we both knew it wasn't real."

  She nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. Neither of us had any crazy expectations."

  "We both knew it couldn't last. That it was just a dream."

  "Totally," she agreed.

  And then he jumped her.

  He hadn't intended to. He hadn't known he was going to do it ahead of time, even seconds ahead of time.

  It just seemed as if he couldn't survive another second without touching her. Being with her. Getting lost in her.

  Her mou
th melted under his. heated for his. Her arms roped around his waist, pressing closer to him, a soft, helpless sound vibrating in her throat at his touch.

  How was he supposed to resist that?

  "Will," she murmured. "Close the door."

  He'd forgotten, that fast, that she had a roommate. That they were in this crazy rented room of hers. That there were other people in the universe.

  He booted the door closed.

  "Will," she murmured. "Don't let me go."

  He hadn't forgotten, even for a millisecond, how those sexy orders from her did him in. "I won't."

  "I mean it. Don't let me go. Even for a second. Or you're in big trouble."

  More orders. Could it get any better than this?

  But of course it could. Pulling the sweater over her head. Drawing the bra straps down her arms. Getting to bare skin, soft skin, real skin. Not a lot of swell over the bra cups, but more than enough to incite him to madness. It was his favorite part of her. that soft swell.

  Or maybe her throat was his favorite part.

  Or her navel. Once he had her pants shucked down-at least as far as her ankles, where she could shake the rest off-he remembered all those other body parts. Upper thighs. The thatch of springy hair-on the red side. redder than her head hair, anyway, which made him remember that that was a favorite part of her, too.

  Aw, hell. He was in love with all of it. All of her.

  Laughing, she bounced on the bed. encouraging him to dive in after her. Her low, throaty chuckle enticed him to more acrobatic feats. She practically forced him to kiss her deeper, harder, longer. Her long, slim legs scissored around his waist, her thigh muscles stronger than he would have believed, but hey. when she was in the mood, she wanted him inside her now. Now and deep.

  The way he was raised, a gentleman took care of a lady. He did his best.

  In fact, he did his zealously devoted, conscientious, meticulous. Boy Scout best to give her all the trouble she was asking for and more.

  Aeons later, when he finally peeled off of her-dragging her on top of him. because he hadn't forgotten his orders to not allow any separation between them-he seemed to be panting like a worn-out hound…and smiling so hard he couldn't even wipe it off.

  She felt…impossibly good.

  He never wanted to let her go.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Will figured this moment had to register as the most perfect of all time. Kel felt like treasure in his arms. His stomach had started rumbling a while back. So had hers. He was hungry and jet-lagged and had a mountain of things he had to do yet today, but he still didn't want to move. Not while he had her right where he wanted her. cheek and arms and boobs and legs sprawled or snugged so she fit just right against him.

  Of course, eventually the obvious came out of her mouth. "Will, this was wrong."

  He didn't open his eyes. "Talk about deja vu. I could have sworn we had this same conversation in Paris."

  "No, we didn't. Well. I guess we did. but it wasn't exactly the same. In Paris. I already knew I wasn't going to marry Jason, that I couldn't. So it was wrong that I hadn't severed that relationship before sleeping with you. But it wasn't wrong to fall for you."

  Thankfully he'd learned a lot since meeting her. He didn't try suggesting that was convoluted reasoning, for example. He simply said. "Damn right, it wasn't." and then peeked under the sheet, because… well, because looking at her naked body was stress reducing.

  When it came down to it, he could think of forty reasons why looking at her naked body was a good thing. And that was without even applying his mind to the task.

  Kelly seemed on a slightly different mental street. "Generally, I really believe that a couple can solve problems together. That they should solve problems together."

  "Damn right." he agreed.

  "But right now I have problems you can't possibly solve. And you have problems that I can't solve. They're not our problems. They're individual problems."

  "Hey, that doesn't mean we can't still help each other."

  "And I'm for that," she agreed. "But I'm not for adding more complications to the mix."

  "Which means what?" Will already knew this conversation was going in the wrong direction. He just didn't know how bad it was going to be. And she was stroking her fingertips on his chest, making it impossible to concentrate.

  "Which means," she said gently, "that if my family realizes I'm sleeping with you, they're going to think I broke up with Jason because of you. I don't want them prejudiced against you, especially because you'd be blamed for something that wasn't your fault. I need to face my own music there. I also have to figure out this housing thing, because I'll never survive living like a college kid for long. So I have to get this whole broken-engagement business off my table completely. And as for you…"

  "Me? What?"

  "You're in a parallel situation. I can listen to you, about your dad and your family. I can be with you, whenever you want me to. But you have to decide what you want to do about the situation. I don't even want to try to influence you. I want you to do whatever your heart tells you is right."

  He heard all that. But he still hadn't heard the bottom line. "All of which means what? Somehow I sense this has to do with sex."

  She leaned back so she could face him eye to eye. "That's just because you associate everything with sex. You're male."

  "Yeah, so?"

  "So, in this rare, rare case…you're right. About the nature of the problem. I think we should, um, refrain from sleeping together. Until we get our lives a little more under control."

  "I think that's a lousy idea," he stated firmly.

  "You want to get even more involved with me- if you end up deciding not to stay in the U.S.?"

  He opened his mouth, closed it.

  "See? We're just not in a good place to put hopes or plans on the table. At least not yet. All sex could do is make our situations messier."

  "Sex is good in all circumstances," he began.

  She slugged him. "Look. I'm not for abstinence-"

  "Neither am I. Ever." He wanted his vote on that to be crystal clear.

  "-but I think a little stretch of it is necessary. Look, how long could it take for you to work through the problems with your family? For me to get my family to accept that my engagement to Jason is undeniably over? I mean…one way or another, these things are going to happen. They "re just not problems that are fixable in a blink. But this couldn't take more than a few weeks to get straightened out, right?"

  He frowned at her. "I don't know when you started doing all this thinking, but I want you to quit it, right now."

  "Will, we can do things together. Talk together. Even go to things involving our families together. But I think we should be able to say, to anyone who asks, that the decisions we're making right now are not connected to each other. Otherwise you're going to get blamed for my mess with Jason."

  "You think I'd care if anyone blamed me?"

  "I'd care."

  He wanted to offer an argument but couldn't. Because reality was exactly what she'd said. "I don't want to make anything worse for you," he said honestly.

  "I made it what it is. You didn't. But the fact is, we've only known each other for a very short amount of time."

  'Three weeks." Even when he said it, he couldn't believe it. How could he only have known her for three weeks?

  "Exactly. Three weeks. Hardly a lifetime. Yet we fell right back in bed together as if we were…well, as if we were a couple. When there are still dozens and dozens of unsettled things between us. My life is here. Yours has been in Europe. I'm a practicing Catholic. You've got an allergy to religion. You come from money and you have money. I'm beyond broke. I'm into guilt, and that's not a small thing. I could wear you down over the long run. You could find me exhausting. Tedious. I'm trying to say…honest to Pete, Will, we really don't know enough about each other to be sure we've got anything long-term going on. We don't have to be in a rush."

  "Kel…" He w
anted to wash a hand over his face. And he would have if his palm hadn't been occupied keeping her right breast warm. "I'm afraid you're all mixed-up. It's the guy who's supposed to say, why be in a rush. I'm supposed to be the one who talks you out of using sucky words like 'commitment' and 'long-term' and all that."

  "Will?"

  "What?"

  "You're in sex with me. And I'm definitely in sex with you, too. But I'm not positive we've got the scary four-letter word going for the long run."

  She didn't have to spell out the love word. But it miffed him that she didn't. "Maybe it isn't. But I think sex is damned important."

  She grinned at him. A roguish, impish, archly feminine grin. "So do I. With you. And actually, that means that a little stretch of abstinence could be a lot of fun."

  "No. it couldn't," he argued immediately. "Abstinence is never fun. And it could never be fun with you. Assuming it's even possible."

  "Will."

  "What now?"

  "Get serious. You know I'm only saying what you're thinking."

  He opened his mouth, but that was such a confounding thing for her to say that he couldn't think of a single response.

  And then she bounced out of bed-out of his reach.

  OKAY. He accepted it. Kelly was more trouble than a pack of puppies.

  Will parked his rental car in the driveway, and mentally braced before climbing out. His parents' house was an architectural wonder-lots of glass, lots of redwood, a shake-shingle roof with a variety of pitches and angles. The layers of landscaping added to the impression of a home that had endless twists and surprises, no two rooms alike, no two views alike. The place was spectacular. Aaron liked to say, with pride, that he'd managed to build it for under three mil.

  Will remembered a picture that used to be in his bedroom when he was growing up-a framed photograph of a wolf in sunlight. You couldn't see the barbed-wire fence, but the shadows of the wires showed on the wolf's face. The animal was trapped. It was in his eyes. And that was exactly how Will had always felt when he was around his old man.

  He climbed the steps, thinking that was exactly why he couldn't get his mind off the discussion with Kelly. The woman was damned annoying-worse, when she was right.