by Nancy Warren
“A woman like you? If she’s in love she really is untouchable.”
“I almost kissed you. Out there on the street after you followed me out of the restaurant. I wanted to. You know I did.”
That scene had tortured her. As angry as she was with Ted and his family and their horrible manipulative behavior, part of her fury was with herself.
He reached out and grabbed her hand. “You tried everything you could to get me to back away from you. I was pushy. I followed you out of that restaurant.”
“You begged me not to marry him.” She sipped her wine, needing the coolness in her throat. “And when I looked at you... It was like a movie moment.”
“I wanted to kiss you so badly, it hurt.”
“But they were paying you to act like that.” And she’d fallen for the act.
“The first part, sure. I admit it. The last part, after we talked and I had the best dinner date I’ve ever had with a woman, that was all me.”
“You lied to them.”
“Lied to who?”
“Don’t play dumb. I heard you in the pool house, remember? You never mentioned the almost-kiss. You didn’t tell them that I took your business card.”
“That last part was between us. If I hadn’t...” He stopped, seeming at a loss for words. “If I hadn’t felt something for you, I would have let you leave. The second you walked out of the restaurant, my work for the Carnarvons was done. That’s what I reported. When I followed you out of the restaurant, that was for me.”
He eased his grip and brushed her fingers with his. “And this is for me.”
Once he’d admitted that, the evening improved. She stopped challenging him and simply enjoyed him. His funny stories about his business, his family, politics, books and movies. She found herself warming up to him as they talked like people on a date who enjoy each other’s company and have a pretty good idea how the night will end. Except that she had no plan to fall in bed with Nick. Sure, she could do it for revenge, but even as she’d enjoyed the fantasy, she knew she wouldn’t do it.
Ted, his family, her mother, collectively they’d betrayed her.
It didn’t follow that to get back at them she should betray herself.
She had standards she held for herself, standards she tried to live up to. Revenge sex was not something she wanted any part of.
But dinner with a hot guy who appealed to her? She was all over that.
He fed her off his plate, as he’d done the first time they met. This time, she fed him from her plate, too. To her amazement, she finished her entire plate of pasta, every hint of salad and even ate a couple bites of the cheesecake he ordered.
As they were leaving the restaurant, he said, “I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“I want to show you your file.”
“You mean, the transcripts of conversations you had with my friends when you were posing as a society reporter?”
“Damn. You figured that was me, huh?”
“I figured it out later. Also, it now makes sense why a former employer called me up and offered me a job. Saying they’d heard I might be looking.” Which was something she should really follow up on.
“I’m a thorough researcher.” He didn’t apologize for snooping into her background. “But I want to show you the pictures. They tell an interesting story.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What pictures?”
“Come back to my place and I’ll show you.”
“You want me to come back to your place so you can show me some pictures?”
He grinned at her. “Yeah. I do. You think you can handle it without throwing yourself at me?”
Her mouth fell open as she gasped. “Me? Throw myself at you?”
“I should warn you, I never have sex on a first date.” He was openly laughing at her, now.
Good. Because she wasn’t going to have sex with him, either.
Then he hooked an arm around her waist. “Come on. I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Okay. Take me to your place and show me your collection of photographs.” In truth, she was curious.
They started walking, their bodies moving in synch. “What about me?” he asked.
“What about you?”
“Same question you asked me earlier. What if we’d met and you hadn’t been engaged. Would you have been interested in me?”
The moon had risen and the ocean was rolling and tossing like a restless sleeper, and he looked at her with such passion she felt her stomach lurch. “Yes.”
He turned her to face him. “I wanted to kiss you so badly that night.” He tipped her chin up. “Then, after I went back to Seattle, I kept hoping you’d call. That I’d hear your voice saying, “I’m free.”
“I’m free now.”
His gaze searched her face. “Are you?”
“Yes,” she answered, realizing in that moment that she was completely letting go of Ted and the dreams and hopes she’d had of their future together. “Yes,” she whispered, “I am.”
For another timeless moment he stood there, looking down into her upturned face and then he smiled a little as though this was very good news and put his mouth on hers.
Oh, my, she thought as the drum beat of desire began to pound in her blood. When they’d kissed on the beach it had been a wet, salt-water flavored kiss that barely began before the wave came and knocked them both off their feet.
This? This was a kiss given and received on solid ground. He kissed her as though he had all the time in the world and nothing to do for the next eternity or two but continue to kiss her.
She felt her body respond to him as she leaned in closer, pressing against him.
“My place,” she whispered when they came up for air.
“Mine’s closer,” he said. Why was she not surprised that he knew exactly where she was staying?
She nodded agreement and then found her hand in his as he pulled her along the sidewalk at a jog. It was almost as though he didn’t want to give her time to change her mind.
After the way his kiss had left her reeling, she had no intention of changing her mind. She’d wanted to take herself completely out of the running for the next Mrs. Carnarvon. Somehow she knew that sleeping with Ted’s old college roommate would do the job.
And what happened in the next few hours might be a lot of things, but she knew it wouldn’t be revenge sex.
She experienced a momentary pang of sadness as they jogged along, knowing that once she slept with another man, Ted would truly be part of her past and no longer part of her future.
The fact that she was quite literally running into the arms of another man made it clear to her that he was already out of her heart.
When she had time to think about it, she was going to have to sit down and seriously reflect on what had ever caused her to accept his proposal in the first place.
Now here she was, racing into the arms of the man who had effectively broken up her engagement, and it felt right in a kind of wild, free way that was the opposite to how she usually started a relationship.
Well, doing the careful thing clearly hadn’t worked out so well for her. Maybe wild and unexpected was worth exploring.
Of course, there was an invisible conversation bubble around Nick that pretty much screamed, for a good time, not a long time.
That was fine with Kate. What she really wanted, needed in fact, was something to take her out of herself.
A good time.
With a seriously hot guy.
So, when he paused to drag out his key and fumbled to open the door of his rental apartment, she shared his impatience.
When they pushed in, and he didn’t even bother to find a light switch, simply kicked the door shut behind him and pulled her to him, she went, every cell in her body tingling with anticipation.
His rental seemed to be a little higher end than hers. She noted that the bed was a king size and the furniture was a nicer quality.
He pulled her with him toward t
he bed and resumed kissing her. The blinds were open and moonlight peeped into the room, not bold like a full moon, but with the shy glow of a half moon. There was enough silver light to make out shapes and gradations of light and dark, which was about right since she was baring her body to this man for the first time. Dim lighting was absolutely fine.
When he kissed her she warmed and then she began to melt, slowly, like coconut oil on skin. Everything began to loosen and relax.
This was so fast, she barely knew the man. When his mouth left hers and he began to unbutton her white blouse, kissing her shoulders as he bared them, she said, “I don’t usually do this. I only just met you.”
“I know,” he said, soothing, enticing. “I investigated you, remember?”
His voice was a low rolling wave that spoke to her innermost mermaid self. “You investigated me.”
“I studied you.”
“You studied me,” she repeated again, stupidly. She wanted to feel angry that he’d poked around in her life, but she couldn’t summon the energy. All her energy was needed in other areas.
“What did you find out?”
Her blouse was nothing but a white flag of surrender floating to the ground. With a sound of pure male pleasure he traced her breasts through the cups of her bra. Her breasts weren’t large for which she’d always been pleased when she was surfing or running or playing sports—and as Evangeline had reminded her, they got smaller when she lost weight—but when she was intimate she was always conscious of her lack of centerfold curves. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He touched her breasts as though they were the most amazing things he’d ever come across.
“I found out that you are careful when it comes to men. You take your time. Really get to know them. You don’t rush into intimacy.”
She felt the low rumble of her own laughter. “Except with you.”
She felt him smile against her skin as he kissed the sensitive skin above her bra. “Except with me.” There was no doubt that was satisfaction she was hearing.
“What else did you find out?” Was that really her voice? That low, sexy, oh, baby, come to bed now, tone?
“I found out that you don’t have a ton of friends but those who are your friends are deeply loyal. They’d do anything for you. I found out that you love all animals, that you’re there for your friends when they’re in crisis. That you love the ballet but hate the symphony.”
He unfastened her bra and she felt such a sense of freedom as he bared her chest. She could feel her nipples pebble under his gaze. “It’s all that classical music with nothing to look at.” She sighed as he put his mouth on one sensitive peak. “Ballet is beautiful bodies moving to classical music.” She gasped as he sucked a nipple right into his mouth. “So much more satisfying.”
His mouth was obviously too busy to talk so she lapsed into silence.
“Oh,” she moaned, putting her hands in his hair, holding him to her. “Oh.”
“Satisfying,” he murmured, as he pulled away, leaving her wet nipple chilling ever so slightly in the air. “Very satisfying.”
“What else did you find out?” She found the hem of his dark blue t-shirt and began to pull it up, up over a belly as tight and luscious as something you’d see in a magazine.
“I found out that the first time you got drunk on shooters you were so sick you couldn’t go to classes for two days.”
She dropped his t-shirt so it slopped back down his belly like a spilled shadow. “I can’t believe Sara would tell you that story.” Sara Lamb was the only person who would still remember that night as well as she did.
He smiled in the dark. “You have to remember, I presented myself as a society journalist sometimes and sometimes as a guy hired to do the embarrassing wedding slide show.”
Her eyes closed briefly. “Tell me Sara did not give you any photographs?” Never mind how drunk she’d been, her hair style, based on Jennifer Anniston’s on Friends that season, was not something she wanted anyone to see.”
“No,” he said, sounding regretful. “I coaxed as hard as I could but she said you’d kill me if I used any of those photos. All she gave me was the story.”
“That’s bad enough. It’s because she’s already married. She knows she’s safe from retaliation.”
His hands were at her skirt now.
“Did you find out anything else interesting?”
“You know, in my business, usually when I’m investigating someone I find out how much they lie and cheat and betray the people who trust them. When I studied you I found someone whose friends adore her, who tries to do good in the world.”
She went back to removing his shirt. As she pulled it over his head his words came out muffled. “I was half in love with you before I ever met you.”
At least, that’s what she thought he said.
Once she had his shirt off she didn’t feel much like talking anymore. The man was gorgeous, big in the chest, narrowing through the ribs and belly. He pulled her against him once more and she rubbed against him enjoying the warm slide of skin on skin. Her breasts were so sensitive that when she rubbed against his chest she shivered.
“You must be cold,” he teased, flipping back the duvet and setting her on the bed. He slipped the skirt down her legs and then her panties.
And he loved her thoroughly. Dimly, she recalled the moment during their first dinner, when he’d claimed he believed every woman deserved an orgasm, every time. She’d assumed he was being deliberately provoking, but she discovered it was true. And, not just one orgasm was enough for him. He teased and stroked her until she was mindless, and only then did he grab one of the condoms from his bedside table.
She shivered all over, knowing this was it, the end of Ted. But when Nick rolled against her, hard and ready, when he kissed her deeply and eased slowly into her body, she could only think about him.
And then she couldn’t think at all.
Chapter Eleven
