He’d made his offer last week because he’d convinced himself that he could show her a good time, no strings attached. But today? When the answer was no?
He should be able to let it go. He’d asked, she’d said no, end of discussion.
But looking at her now, he wasn’t sure his offer had been only about her. Because he still wanted her. Desperately.
She hadn’t answered yet. “Kate? We’re still on for dinner, right?” He expected any number of polite excuses—she’d had a long night, she had other plans, she would be too tired. She had an actual funeral, thereby justifying the outfit. Something.
So when she looked at him through her lashes and said, “That sounds nice,” in a tone that stroked over his ears like a lover’s kiss, he didn’t know what to make of it. And when she shot him a nervous smile before dropping her gaze again, he had even less of an idea.
Because that wasn’t a no. It sure as hell wasn’t a yes, either.
What if he was looking at a maybe?
* * *
Five hours later, he had absolutely no idea what to make of Kate Burroughs. Through eight other houses, she’d kept her distance, never getting within two feet of him. Not like he was going to grab her, but still. She was definitely not close enough to touch. No accidentally brushing hands as they stood in a narrow hallway—of which there were several. No putting his hand on her lower back to guide her out of a room. No gentlemanly offers of his hand or his arm for her to lean against as they walked over uneven paver stones.
However, every single time he’d glanced at her, he’d caught her watching him. She always looked away quickly, as if she were going to pretend she hadn’t been staring, but he could feel her gaze upon him. She’d also thawed—slowly at first, but she’d gotten noticeably warmer to him as the day had progressed. She’d left her scowl behind at the first house—a markedly more habitable dwelling than nearly anything they’d looked at the previous week. By the third house, her lips had gone from a tight line to a gentle smile and by the fifth house, she was laughing at his jokes again. By the seventh house, her eyes softened and she let her gaze linger upon him when he’d glance at her, like she didn’t want to look away.
She was still absolutely captivating.
He had to play this cool. As much as he desperately wanted to pull her into his arms and show her exactly how good they could be together, he didn’t dare. She had to come to him, and besides—her decision was separate from their business dealings.
So he was doing his best not to think about anything other than real estate. It was a battle he wasn’t necessarily winning, but he was trying.
“This isn’t bad,” he said, standing in the middle of a gleaming kitchen with a professional six-burner stove, a fridge with cabinet facings on the door and an island with a marble countertop. The whole thing was done in whites and grays with splashes of red and bright blue for accents. This was the last house of the day and they were on schedule, with a whole thirty-five minutes before their dinner reservations.
Kate snorted. “Four hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars and it’s not bad?”
“Compared to what we looked at last week, it’s amazing,” he conceded.
He stood at the island, trying to get a sense for how the room flowed. And the fact that he was thinking about the flow of rooms was odd. He’d never considered work triangles and flow before. He and his mom had lived in a cramped two-room place before Billy Bolton had come into their lives, and then they’d moved into Billy’s house and it’d been great simply because it was a real house with a room—and a bathroom—all his own.
The kid he’d been would take the first decent option he got. But he was a man of means now. He could afford to be picky.
He looked up at Kate, who was staring at the kitchen with open longing. Picky, indeed. “What do you think?”
“It’s not going to be my house, Seth,” she said in a quiet voice.
Something in her tone pulled at him. She sounded almost sad about that and he remembered what she’d said last week—she’d arranged for him to look at the least likely house first. This was the last house of the day, which meant she thought this was the best house they’d looked at yet.
“But you have a professional opinion, Kate. What do you think?” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “I’d appreciate it if you’re honest.”
About this kitchen, about the houses they looked at, about whether or not dinner was going to be painfully awkward.
About him. He wanted her to be honest about what she wanted from him. Just the commission or something else?
When she still didn’t answer, Seth wished he could take it back. He never should’ve offered her a sexual relationship last week. He should’ve left it at flirting and making her smile, at making sure she was landing on her feet.
But then Jack had shown up and watching him hit on Kate had been more than Seth could take. She was his, not Jack’s and not Roger’s.
Except she wasn’t. She wasn’t a possession he could do with what he pleased. She was a complicated woman who had her own life to live.
“I’m just asking, Kate. Your opinion is important to me. Just tell me what you think. I’ve never done this before.”
“You’ve never bought a house before?”
“That, either.”
Her lips twisted to the side in a scowl that he now recognized as confusion. “You’ve never propositioned a pregnant older woman before?”
Finally, they were at the heart of the matter. “Oddly enough, no. There’s a first for everything, isn’t there?” He gave her a warm smile, hoping that would help.
He wasn’t sure it did. “But you’ve offered to have no-strings relationships with other women?”
He tried to process the line of thinking behind that question. How long had she been with Roger? Kate didn’t strike Seth as the kind of woman who’d had a lot of casual relationships. “I went to college.”
The scowl was back. But at least this time he’d earned it. He braced for her cutting rejoinder, but instead she squared her shoulders and said, “This is an amazing house,” in what he thought of as her real estate agent voice. “The master suite has that Jacuzzi bathtub and the office on the first floor has an amazing view. It sits on two acres so you don’t have any neighbors within immediate line of sight and although it only has a two-car garage, there’s more than enough room to expand or even build a separate workshop. The property is fenced so if you’re ever going to have a dog or children, there would be a huge backyard for them to play in.”
“It is a great house on paper,” he agreed. “But I can read. I want to know what you think of the house, Kate.”
“It was originally on the market nine months ago for five ninety-nine,” she went on, ignoring him. “But was overvalued and the market has been a little soft at this price range. The owners are probably desperate to sell, so we might be able to get them down to four-fifty.”
He might never figure this woman out, but he was going to have a hell of a good time trying. “Kate.” She swung around to look at him. “Do you like it?”
She blinked at him in confusion and he had to wonder, had anyone ever asked her what she liked before?
Then she exhaled heavily, looking defeated. He didn’t like that look on her. “Roger and I...” she started, her voice trailing off. Then she tried again. “We’d already purchased a house when this came on the market and besides, it was out of our price range. But I’ve been through it several times now and...”
Her hand stroked over the marble countertop affectionately as she walked to the sink, making his gut tighten. He wanted her to touch him like that, to hear that longing in her voice when she talked to him.
Great. Now he was jealous of a house. Bad enough he was jealous of Jack, but at least that was another guy. The house was just
a house.
She leaned against the sink and stared out the window into that big fenced backyard and damned if she didn’t look like she belonged here. She loved this house and for some insane reason, he wanted to give it to her.
“The house just makes sense,” she went on, a note of defeat in her voice that he didn’t miss. “The way the rooms are arranged, the way everything works together—it’s one of the best houses I’ve ever been in. Nothing to compromise on, nothing I’d want to change. I’ve always been able to see myself living here. It’d be a wonderful place to raise a family.”
He understood what she was saying. She hadn’t been able to afford it even when she’d had Roger’s income to kick in and now? Even if the price could be negotiated down more, it’d still be beyond her. Instead, she was going to have to watch someone else buy her dream home.
Unless... “Question.” She turned, her eyebrows raised. “We haven’t started on the industrial properties for the museum. What happens if I buy a piece of property for, say, four million dollars? Will your commission be enough to buy this house?”
The color drained out of her face, which was not the reaction he’d been hoping to get. “Seth,” she said softly, sounding even sadder—which had not been his goal. “You can’t just snap your fingers and solve all of my problems. I got myself into my own mess and I am going to get myself out of it, too.” She swallowed, her eyes huge. “I don’t need you to save me.”
“That’s not what this is.” But even as he said it, he wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth. He didn’t think about it in terms of saving her. He thought about it in terms of helping. Of course, why he felt this compulsion to help her was another question he didn’t want to investigate too deeply right now.
“Then tell me what this is about. The truth, Seth.”
The truth? Hell. The truth was he was worried about her. He couldn’t stop fantasizing about her. He was glad she hadn’t married Roger. He knew how hard single mothers had it and he didn’t want it to be that hard for her. It shouldn’t be that hard for anyone, but especially not for her.
He didn’t say any of that. Instead, he closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands. “This,” he said, lowering his lips to hers, “is the truth.”
Then he kissed her.
Ten
Oh, God—Seth was kissing her. And somehow, it was the truth.
Because the truth was, she wanted him to kiss her and more than that, she wanted to kiss him back.
How had she thought that she could talk herself out of this need? God knew she’d tried. For a whole week, she’d diligently reasoned that it didn’t make sense to fall into bed with Seth Bolton. It was a bad idea and the list of reasons why was long. Safer to keep their relationship strictly platonic.
In fact, she had gotten up this morning determined not to let things get to this point. But now that they were here—now that he was brushing his lips over hers, soft and gentle and asking for permission...
She sighed into his mouth and wrapped her arms around his waist. However many reasons there were not to do this, none of them trumped the simple fact that she wanted Seth. She wanted to hold on to this last chance to be Kate Burroughs before her identity was redefined by motherhood. She wanted her baby, but she didn’t want to lose herself, either.
So she kissed him back. She opened her mouth for him and slid her tongue along the seam of his lips and thrilled at the groan of desire that rumbled out of his chest. She pressed her body to his and let the warmth of his solid muscles sink into her skin.
She stopped trying to fight this desire. She stopped trying to fight herself.
Seth was the one who broke the kiss. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he said, his words coming out in a rush. “But I can’t regret it.”
This was it, her last chance to stop this madness before it consumed her.
Too damned bad she wanted to be consumed. “Yes, you should’ve.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “Was I reading you wrong? I thought you weren’t interested.”
She had tried so hard not to be. “Seth, this is a bad idea.” His face fell. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not interested. I don’t want to be interested in you. My life is complicated enough. But I can’t help wanting you.”
Dimly, she was aware that they were locked in an embrace inside a stranger’s home. True, the home had been unoccupied for months. But ethically, she was pushing her luck. “We need to leave.”
He nodded and stepped back, but he didn’t let go of her. Instead, his arm slid down around her waist and he held her tight to his side. “Where do you want to go? Dinner or...”
She would need to eat—eventually. But she needed him more. “Or?”
He guided her toward the door. “What about your place?”
She hesitated. It was such a small apartment. She knew she shouldn’t be embarrassed for him to see it—it was clean and neat. But after spending the day in some of the nicer homes in Rapid City, her apartment would look pathetic in comparison.
Besides, she didn’t want Seth in her apartment because then she would have all these memories of him there. Every time she walked into her bedroom, she would remember him stretched out on her bed, the sheet around his hips and his chest bare. Every time she tried to fall asleep, his presence would keep her awake.
She needed to keep a little distance between the rest of her life and what was going to happen in the next few weeks. Because she couldn’t imagine that this would last more than a few weeks.
Just long enough for her to taste true passion. Just enough memories to keep her going through what would be a few years of long days and sleepless nights. That’s all she was doing with Seth—making memories.
“Your place?”
“I’m currently living in a hotel. But,” he added, opening the door for her, “it has room service. If you’re sure?”
Was she sure this was a good idea? No. She was pretty sure it wasn’t.
But was she sure that Seth would take great care with her? That he would deliver on exactly what he had promised—something fun and satisfying, something to erase the lingering bad memories of Roger from her mind? Something good?
She leaned up on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his lips—a promise of more to come. “I’m sure. Are you?”
That smile—confident and cocky, sensual and heated—that was exactly what she was looking for. “You have no idea.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, Seth said, “We can order room service later,” as he guided her into the room and kicked the door shut behind him.
Then she was sinking into his arms and wondering why, exactly, she’d fought against this so hard. It didn’t mean anything. She was attracted to Seth and he was attracted to her, and she simply hadn’t had enough fun in her life for so long that she almost couldn’t remember what it felt like to enjoy herself.
Well, to hell with that. Because she was going to enjoy this time here, with this man. “Okay?” Seth asked again as his hands settled around her waist. They hadn’t even gotten to the bed—he was still leaned against the door. But he wasn’t going to let her go.
“Okay,” she agreed, sliding her hands underneath his jacket and flattening her palms against his chest. It had been unseasonably warm today and he had on another Crazy Horse T-shirt. His body was hard and hot under her touch, and touch him she did.
He let her. He stayed still while she explored the planes of his chest. He didn’t yank her clothing off, didn’t try to skip the foreplay and get straight to the sex. He let her take her time and that felt important. She didn’t know how long they had together, but she didn’t want to rush it.
“You never did tell me how old you are,” she murmure
d as she pushed the jacket from his shoulders. He let go of her waist long enough for the leather to hit the floor and then she was studying his arms. She hadn’t seen them before—the muscles that strained at the sleeves of his shirt, a tattoo visible on his right biceps. “Good Lord, Seth. Look at you.”
“Twenty-five. And I’d rather look at you. Except...without these clothes.” He peeled her black suit jacket off her shoulders. “Black and white are all wrong on you. You need bright, vibrant color, Kate. You’re gorgeous in color.”
She felt her cheeks get warm. “It was the only thing that fit,” she admitted—and that was only because the pants had elastic in the back. Otherwise, she would’ve been showing houses in yoga pants.
“Ah. And here I thought you were sending me a message—hands off.”
She could feel that her whole face had turned red and it only got worse as he reached for the buttons on her slacks. It wasn’t like he hadn’t undressed her before—he had. He had lifted her skirt and peeled off a petticoat and been within inches of her most personal areas. But it was different now. Her body was changing faster every single day. “I’m different. Since the last time we did this.”
His mouth curved into a dangerous half grin. “We’ve done this before? I’m sure I would remember.”
“You know what I mean,” she said, whacking him on the side of the arm. “You have undressed me before. At least partially.”
“Trust me, babe—I have not forgotten. I never will.” He worked the zipper down and then slid his hands underneath the fabric, along her skin. “And this time, I’m not going to settle on ‘partially.’”
She didn’t have on a thong today, nor did she have on stockings and a garter. The best she could do was a pair of bikini-cut panties—white—with a little pink bow on the front and her new, very serviceable white bra. The underthings were innocent, almost—the most innocent thing about this particular situation, anyway.
Little Secrets--Claiming His Pregnant Bride Page 9
