The Man She'll Marry

by Ann Roth

  She was equally uncomfortable, and she moved toward the door. “I’ll go now and leave you in peace. If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs reading.”

  “Peace, huh?” He laughed without humor. “That’s a good one.”

  Before she could ask him what he meant, he turned his back and climbed the ladder.

  She fled.

  STANDING ON THE MIDDLE step of the ladder, Nick swore as he stretched up to unscrew the fan. Here he was, supposed to be working, and so damn horny he could hardly focus. His arousal strained uncomfortably against his Levi’s, but lately that was his normal state, and he was getting used to it.

  Good thing Fran couldn’t see him now. Or Cinnamon.

  He wanted her so badly it hurt. He was no expert on women, but she was easy to understand. Those soft sighs and longing glances left little doubt that she wanted him, too.

  She’s right downstairs. All I have to do is head down there, pull her close and…

  “Like hell.” Setting his jaw, he stifled his thoughts.

  Unfortunately, his body remained taut and aroused. Damn, but it was hard to fight this.

  Eight days and she’d be gone. Until then he’d try like hell to steer clear of her. Or if he had to be around her, pretend he didn’t want her, just as he had a few minutes ago.

  Piece of cake. He scowled at his bulging jeans. “Got that?”

  CURLED UP IN A large armchair, Cinnamon stared at the pages of the best-seller mystery that promised to grab her attention. Unfortunately it wasn’t working. She couldn’t concentrate, not with Nick upstairs.

  Had she really told Betsy and Liz she didn’t want a fling with him? Because she did. With her body hungry and her mind full of the man, would it be so wrong to enjoy a short-term, no-strings affair? No, she decided, as long as she was careful to keep her heart out of the equation.

  She could do that. Couldn’t she?

  No point even wondering, since Nick no longer seemed interested.

  Restless and edgy, Cinnamon tossed aside the book and frowned. The man had been up there nearly an hour. How long could fixing a fan take?

  Her “break” was over, and she wanted to get back to work. She’d go to the factory after all, where she could concentrate. But she needed her laptop and purse, and they were in the suite.

  She marched upstairs with her stomach in knots. “Don’t be silly,” she murmured. “You’re not going up there to seduce him, only to get your things.”

  When she arrived, the fan was making lazy circles in the room, stirring the fire-warmed air. Arm hung over the ladder, eyes on the ceiling, Nick nodded without glancing at her. “The fan works fine now. I’m through here.”

  “Great.”

  He’d be out of the room soon, then. She could stay here, if she wanted, but she was restless and needed a change of scenery. She headed into the bedroom and retrieved her purse from the bedside table. Slinging it over her shoulder, she strode to the desk, where she’d left the laptop. “I’m going to the factory.”

  That earned a curious look. “Dressed like that?”

  Frowning, she set down her things to check the zipper of her jeans—closed—and smooth her dove-gray turtleneck sweater over her hips. “Is there something wrong with my clothes?” she asked, glancing up.

  He was watching her through hooded eyes. He jerked as if she’d caught him stealing. He shook his head. “Not a thing, but you usually dress up when you work.”

  “You think I should change into nicer clothes before I go?”

  “Change?” he said, voice cracking.

  Eyes naked with hunger burned into her, and she knew that he still wanted her as badly as she wanted him. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the soft moan that slipped from her lips.

  “Sharon says,” he started. Stopped and cleared his throat. “She says you, Vince and Andy met with a lawyer about the employee buyout.”

  “We did.” She managed a casual nod at odds with her pounding heart. “A buyout definitely is doable. It’s complicated. But the way I understand it, employees will buy into the company using part of each paycheck to purchase shares. The bank is involved, too, with financing. We meet with everyone tomorrow to answer questions and vote. Then our attorney will take the offer to Tate’s attorney.”

  “That’s good news. Thank you for what you’ve done.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  If only he’d stop looking at her as if he wanted to make love to her.

  The need inside her grew unbearable. Hardly aware of her actions, she moistened her lips with her tongue and strained toward him. “Yesterday I had a phone interview with a consulting company in Boston.”

  His hot, avid gaze dipped to her mouth. “And?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I need that job, but I really like it here.” I really like you, Nick.

  In an instant she made up her mind. She wanted to make love with him, and would, right now. An affair never to be forgotten.

  Before she could chicken out she pulled her sweater over her head and moved purposefully toward him.

  A strangled sound burst from his throat. “This thing between us is killing me. I can’t fight it alone, Cinnamon.”

  “Then don’t fight at all.”

  She walked into his arms. Then he was kissing her urgently, as if she were water and he was dying of thirst. Her body throbbed and screamed for release, and she was sure she’d be the one to die if they didn’t make love.

  She lost herself in sensation and need. Somehow they were on the bed and her bra was gone.

  Thanks to the fire and the thick down comforter beneath her, she was warm and cozy. Thanks to Nick, she was hot and needy.

  Kneeling between her open legs Nick licked her breasts, first teasing and gentle, then, when she squirmed for more, nipping harder. Wild with need and desperate for more, she wrapped her thighs around his hips and pulled him hard against the pulsing nub that demanded attention.

  “Easy,” he cautioned, bracing his weight on his elbows.

  “I want you, Nick,” she said.

  His eyes went hot. “And I want you naked.”

  Rolling to his side, he unfastened the button and zipper of her jeans. She lifted her hips and helped him strip off her jeans and bikini panties. At last she was naked. Pulsing and ready, she waited for him to join her.

  Nick stared down at her, his face dark and intent, the desire plain. “You are so beautiful.”

  Eyes closed, he feathered his fingers from her collarbone, tantalizingly slowly across each nipple, and down her stomach.

  She wished he’d take off his clothes, but the haze of her need clouded her brain. She’d die if he didn’t touch her there. She raised her hips in supplication. “Please, Nick.”

  He laughed softly. “I’ll get there.”

  At last his fingers slid below her navel. Cinnamon sucked in a breath, and finally, finally he slipped his hand between her legs. Quivering with need and anticipation, she moaned.

  “You’re slick and wet,” he growled with satisfaction.

  “For you.” She pulled his head down and kissed him with all the passion she felt.

  Parrying his tongue with hers, he slid two fingers inside her, his thumb teasing the heart of her desire. Pleasure pounded through her, exquisite to the point of pain.

  “Ohh,” she whimpered, writhing against his hand.

  “Like that, huh?”

  “No. Yes.” Breathing hard she stilled. “It’s been a while and I’m afraid…I mean…I’m close to—”

  “Climaxing? Let it happen, honey.”

  “What about you?” she managed, his clever fingers making the words hard to say.

  “Forget me, Cinnamon. This is for you.”

  There was no way she could fight her need. Her eyelids drifted closed. Low in her belly, tension and longing spiraled higher and tighter.

  He knew exactly what she needed, stroking and increasing pressure until she cried out and came apart.

&nb
sp; When she drifted back to earth she drew in a shuddering breath and smiled into Nick’s eyes. “That was amazing.”

  “My pleasure,” he murmured. “I enjoyed watching you.”

  She was too content to feel embarrassed.

  But it wasn’t fair that he was still dressed.

  She sat up and gestured for him to do the same. His eyebrows arched, but he obeyed. Wordlessly she worked the buttons of his shirt, pausing to stroke his chest. Beneath her hand his heart thudded wildly. She pushed the soft flannel off his shoulders and tossed the shirt onto the carpet. She ran her hands over his broad shoulders and down his solid chest. He was perfect, hard and muscled and beautiful.

  She wanted him inside her.

  On her knees now, holding onto his shoulders she licked his nipples, mimicking what he’d done to her. He groaned, and she smiled to herself. She kissed his rib cage, then his navel. Nick went still.

  As she reached for his zipper, he grasped her wrist and stopped her.

  “Better not.” Breathing hard, he rolled out of reach.

  This was the second time he’d stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Puzzled, and suddenly embarrassed at her nudity, Cinnamon wriggled under the covers. She pulled up the comforter, tucking it under her armpits. “Is it me?”

  While Nick retrieved his shirt from the floor, she leaned against the hard wooden headboard. He shook his head, then shrugged into his shirt. “You’re amazing.”

  “Then is it a religious thing, or do you have a disease?”

  He almost smiled. “No to both. I just don’t think we should make love.”

  “We’re both single and unattached, so why not?”

  “For starters, I don’t have birth control with me.”

  Was that all? “That’s okay. I’m on the pill.”

  She gave him a hopeful glance. But he dashed her hope with a frown and a muttered oath.

  “What did you say?” she asked.

  “This is more complicated than birth control.” He propped himself against the headboard beside her.

  “I’ve been tested for all the diseases. I’m clean.”

  “Me, too, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You’re an educated executive and I’m a handyman,” he said as he buttoned his shirt. “We’re not a good fit.”

  A similar argument to the one Cinnamon had told herself. But she no longer believed it. “A few minutes ago we seemed to fit fine,” she said. “We share this strong attraction we can’t seem to fight. And you’re far more than a handyman,” she corrected. “You’re a gifted inventor with a talent for fixing just about anything.”

  “Think what you want.” He waved off the compliments, the same as he always did. “There are things you don’t know about me.”

  “I’m pretty open-minded,” she coaxed, turning to touch his cheek. “Try me.”

  Pain and self-doubt filled his eyes before he pulled away from her. He crossed his arms, and his mouth tightened stubbornly. He wasn’t going to confide in her.

  Stifling a frustrated sigh, she tried again. “Keep your secrets, then. You’re a good man, a loving uncle and brother and a loyal friend. That’s enough for me.”

  He hesitated, and she pressed her case. “We’re adults, and we’re heading into this with our eyes open. No promises and no commitments, if that’s what’s stopping you. Just really great sex.” She aimed a pointed glance at the arousal straining his zipper. “Besides, if you don’t get some relief soon, you’re liable to explode,” she teased.

  His mouth quirked. “There are ways to take care of that. Believe me, I know.” He sobered. “You’re not a ‘just sex’ woman, Cinnamon.”

  “Oh, no? Why do you think I left my last job?”

  Not wanting to share the sordid past, she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. But she had Nick’s full attention. If talking about what happened helped convince him to make love with her, the story was worth the telling.

  That didn’t mean she could look at him while she told it. “Dwight Sabin, a founding partner of Sabin and Howe, was separated from his wife.” She picked a feather from the down quilt. “We had an affair. Then he went back to her,” she finished, leaving out the rest. “So you see, I know about sex without commitment.”

  There, it was out. She pulled in a fortifying breath before meeting his gaze. “Now you know my dirty little secret.”

  For one long moment she thought she’d convinced him. A tender warmth filled his face, and he brushed the bangs from her forehead. “So that’s why you resigned. Were you in love with this guy?”

  Fran had asked the same question, and Cinnamon replied with the same answer. “I thought so, but now I realize I was flattered. To have an important man like Dwight Sabin interested in me gave me quite a heady feeling.” She sighed. “Until people started talking about me as if I’d lured him into bed and schemed to destroy his marriage, all for a promotion….” The indignity of it hit her in the stomach and she winced. “I couldn’t stay there.”

  “I’m real sorry for what happened to you, but that story confirms the truth—you need more from a man than sex.” Cupping her shoulder, Nick squeezed gently. “If I could, I’d deck the bastard for hurting you that way. Instead I’ll just leave you alone, so I don’t hurt you, too.” He rose from the bed. “Tell Fran I’ll be back next week, after the tourists clear out.”

  LYING IN BED THAT NIGHT, miserable and rock hard with need, Nick cursed himself six ways to Sunday. He’d had the chance to live his fantasies and make love with Cinnamon, and what had he done?

  Turned her down.

  You’re a good man, a loving uncle and brother, and a loyal friend. That’s enough for me.

  He was flattered and pleased, but no fool. He was small potatoes, not high-powered enough for Cinnamon. She deserved a man who loved her and who could give her security and plenty of money. No way did Nick fit that bill.

  She claimed she wanted him, but if she knew he could barely read, she’d change her mind real fast. Which would be best for both of them.

  “So tell her and solve your problem,” he grumbled into the darkness.

  But he knew he never would. Truth of the matter was, he couldn’t bear to see her pity; or worse, know that she thought him stupid.

  Best thing for her was to hook up with a hotshot executive—as long as he didn’t use her the way her jerk of a boss had.

  From now on Nick would do his lusting for her in private. If it killed him he wouldn’t touch her again. His groin pulsed painfully, and he groaned. It probably would kill him.

  Swearing, and desperate to clear his brain, he turned to the only possible relief, dismal as it was. Self-gratification.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Thursday evening, having settled into the spare bedroom of Fran’s apartment in the basement of the Oceanside, Cinnamon and Fran sat cross-legged on the guest bed, sharing a bowl of hot buttered popcorn.

  Reaching for a napkin, Cinnamon wiped her lips. “Here we are, just like college.” She glanced at her small but plush room. “Only, this is a whole lot nicer than a dorm room.”

  “But just as much fun.” Fran swallowed a mouthful, then eyed Cinnamon thoughtfully. “So, what’s bothering you?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “When your hands get restless, it’s a sure sign something’s on your mind. You’re about to shred that poor napkin to bits.”

  “You know me too well.” Laughing, Cinnamon lobbed the napkin into the rattan wastebasket a few feet away. “Not something, someone.”

  “Let me guess. Nick Mahoney.”

  Sobering, Cinnamon nodded.

  “I take it yesterday didn’t go so well?”

  Thanks to Nick’s excellent kissing skills and redhot hands, she’d touched heaven, but that seemed too private to share, even with a best friend. “It was wonderful but also frustrating.”

  “I’m glad about the wonderful piece.” Fran’s eyes brightened. Good friend that she was, she didn’t pry, simply offered an und
erstanding nod. “Want to talk about it?”

  How to admit that the man you wanted desperately refused to make love with you? Cinnamon toyed with the half-empty popcorn bowl. “He says there are things I don’t know about him,” she hedged with a shrug. “Whatever they are, they’re powerful enough to keep us apart.”

  Fran’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Secrets, huh?” She shook her head. “This is the first I’ve heard of any.”

  “So, you don’t know what he meant?” Cinnamon’s spirits sank. “I hoped you did.” She released a defeated sigh. “Well, I guess that’s that.”

  “Not necessarily,” Fran said with a gleam in her eyes. “There’s always the Valentine’s Day dance. Good music, champagne punch and romantic decorations.” She fiddled pensively with the gold stud in her ear. “A sexy dress might help, and spiky ‘love me’ heels. Jamie’s Boutique off Main Street is a good place to shop for both.”

  “I don’t know,” Cinnamon mused. “What if it doesn’t work?”

  “Then you still have a hot new outfit.”

  “Hmm…” She really shouldn’t spend the money, but with the Boston job a definite possibility…She smiled at her friend. “I have that factory meeting tomorrow afternoon, and you’ll be busy with your guests, so we can’t shop then. We’re meeting the Friday girls for an early lunch, so that leaves the morning. Interested in dress hunting first thing tomorrow?”

  Fran grinned. “I certainly am.”

  SEATED AT THE USUAL big table at Rosy’s late the following morning, Fran waited until the door closed behind Cinnamon before she gestured her friends forward. The restaurant was starting to fill up, and she had only a few minutes before she should head back to the Oceanside and wait for her guests, but this was important.

  “Can you keep a secret?” she asked. All five women nodded and leaned forward expectantly. “Just for half an hour, until everybody at the Town Hall knows.”

  “So, this is about Cinnamon and the cranberry factory,” Betsy mused, a valid assumption since that was where Cinnamon was headed for the buyout meeting.

  Fran nodded. “And it’s wonderful. Can I trust you all to keep a secret?” she repeated, looking each woman in the eye.