“WOW.” THE WORD CREAKED out of his throat so hoarsely that he coughed and tried again. “Wow.” He’d used the expression “That rocked my world” a ridiculous number of times. For everything from a great sports play to a tough-to-bag client signing on the dotted line. He now knew he’d been grossly misusing the phrase.
What had just happened in his bedroom with Chelsea was the first thing in his life that had truly rocked his world—seriously, like earthquake tremors, shaking his foundations.
How was it even possible that a woman he liked so much, had liked since she was a kid, who wasn’t particularly mysterious to him, had uncovered a part of him he hadn’t known existed?
He felt like a blushing girl in some bullshit teen movie saying, “I never knew it could be like that.”
She smiled at him, trusting and sweet, her big brown eyes full of emotion. “Je t’aime,” she whispered.
He kissed her, to block out the messages in those big eyes, then rolled to his back, willing his breathing back to normal and his world to right itself. He wasn’t sentimental. It was this whole bizarre scenario that was making him act strangely. He’d never lived with a woman before, and after his failed engagement he had no intention of it. Yet here was a woman living in his house, filling it with the homey scents of cooking and walking by him wafting girlie smells of flowery shampoo and all those gels and cosmetics and things they used. No wonder his brain was permanently fogged.
She reached out and rested her hand on his chest, as though she didn’t want to break the connection. As though watching from another part of himself, he saw his own hand move to rest on top of hers. It felt so right.
It felt so terrifyingly wrong.
He didn’t want to live with the world’s greatest cook, who was also gorgeous and sweet and amazing in bed.
Especially not one who whispered “Je t’aime.” Maybe he hadn’t studied in Paris, but he knew what the phrase meant. I love you, that’s what.
Only a fool would want to live with someone like that. She’d suck all of him into her world. He could see it happening already. He scurried home, lured by her food and her presence. It was classic taming behavior. Feed the wild animal and soon it relies on you, then you lure it into a cage, put a red leather collar around its neck with some cutesy nickname on a metal tag.
His heart had started to slow and suddenly it was speeding up again.
Worst part was he had nobody to blame but himself. He’d needed the fiancée, then when his sister made her living here part of the deal, he’d started sniffing around her. She’d said no sex.
Because she was a very smart woman. Much, much smarter than him.
But had he listened? Had he followed the one simple rule she’d laid down? Of course he hadn’t. He’d done everything in his power to break that rule, because that’s what guys like him did when confronted with stupid rules. They broke them.
Hah. He was the stupid one. Now he’d broken through that barrier, what had happened?
The Poconos had given him a taste, a raunchy, fun, sexy night that had felt good. Had he left well enough alone? Hell, no. He’d decided he needed more. And he’d got more, all right.
The best damned sex of his life, that’s what. And with a woman who had forever written all over her, from her homemade cookies to her big brown happily-ever-after eyes.
Je t’aime.
He’d known the moment their bodies joined tonight, when she’d gazed up at him and he’d felt something inside him shift, that he was in the deepest trouble of his life.
Not all animals were meant to be tamed. He’d heard of trapped animals who chewed off their own feet to escape. Thanks to Sarah and her PETA membership he knew a bunch of things like that he wished he didn’t.
Well, he wasn’t going to chew off a body part, but maybe metaphorically it wouldn’t be a bad idea.
He glanced down at their joined hands resting approximately over his heart. He picked up her hand, kissed the fingers. “You are amazing,” he said, truthfully, because she was.
Her head turned to him, those big brown eyes slumberous and sexy. “So are you.” She shifted even closer. “It was so much better this time.”
“I, uh…” He couldn’t look into those eyes and do what he had to do, so he turned back to look at the ceiling again. “I need to get back to the office for a couple of hours.”
“You do?” She sounded sleepy and surprised, not remotely outraged.
“Yeah. But this was great.” He leaned over and kissed her sweet, swollen mouth once more. “Don’t wait up.”
“Okay.” She didn’t seem to get the point, but he couldn’t throw her out of his bed any more than he could throw her out of his home. Since she was living in it.
Getting out of that bed took a lot of determination, especially as she hadn’t bothered to pull the covers up to her chin, but was lying, happily sated, her gorgeous body all curves and warm, silky skin, inviting him back in.
It took a physical effort to drag himself into the shower. When he emerged from the bathroom, she was exactly where he’d left her. Mild irritation surged through him, but then he saw she’d dropped off to sleep. Her face was so innocent, and for a moment he remembered the shy, serious girl she’d been. An unexpected and unwanted tug of tenderness drew him to her even as he struggled against it.
Her lips were parted, still swollen from passion.
Quietly, so as not to wake her, he grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a polo shirt, socks and underwear. He dressed swiftly and soundlessly, then, unable to stop himself, leaned over and kissed her gently on the mouth.
She made a tiny sound, kind of a sigh and an mmm joined together.
He crept out and left her sleeping.
There was no reason for him to go into the office. He wasn’t one of those twits who dashed in to send e-mails at three in the morning so it looked like they were good company men. He believed in working hard during regular office hours and that productivity was how you proved your worth. Not stupid suck-up tricks.
Sure, he worked late when he needed to and if a weekend was required, he gave a weekend. Right now, though, everything was under control. But he said he was going to the office and he felt bad enough about breaking the rules and having sex with Chelsea. He didn’t want to add lying to his conscience.
He nodded to the night watchman and signed in, then took the deserted elevator up to his floor. To his surprise, he wasn’t the only one at work. Damien Macabee was typing away at his computer, his gray head bent over his work. Probably cleaning up some things before he retired.
David popped his head around Macabee’s door to be polite. They weren’t particularly friendly, but he had a great deal of respect for the man who’d been in the business more than forty years. “Hi, Damien.”
Macabee blinked his eyes and, taking off his glasses, rubbed them. “Hello, David. What brings you here so late?”
Even though he hadn’t prepared an excuse, not dreaming anyone else would be here, he said, “I’m trying to land a record-label company. Had a good meeting with them earlier, but I think their top brass are hesitant to commit to an employee benefit plan.”
Damien Macabee nodded as though he’d been in that position scores of times, which, of course, he had.
“The issue they’re having is fear of change. They know they’re ready, but our job is to help convince them that nothing but good can come of looking after their employees better.” He leaned over and opened a filing cabinet beside his desk, pulled out a thick file and handed it to David. “There’s a report in there that contains some excellent research on the benefits that accrue to a company with a good benefits package. Take a look at it and see if it helps.”
“Thanks, Damien. I appreciate it.”
David didn’t have trouble concentrating during the day, but he had to admit it was nice in the quiet office with no distractions. Nobody popping their head into his office to ask him something, no phone calls, meetings, nothing but him and his computer.
And his thoughts. Even as he studied the research—and Damien had collated some fascinating statistics collected from studies from around the world, and pulled together facts and figures that he thought were relevant to a record label—his body felt relaxed and sated. If only his mind was as easy.
He discovered Macabee wasn’t the only one working late when a soft knock fell on his door and a second later, Piers entered.
“Don’t mean to interrupt, David, but since you’re here, I think you’re the very man I want. I want to talk to you about employee morale.”
“What about it?”
“I think we should raise it.”
David bit back a smile. Easier said than done. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the morale here. It’s a good company, you pay well, nobody’s been laid off that I know of. People are happy to have the job.”
“I appreciate hearing it. I believe you’re right, but you know it never hurts to throw a bit of fun into people’s lives.”
David wondered what management book he’d been reading, or what article he’d perused at his barber’s. Piers was steady as a rock most of the time and good at looking into the future. He and his brother had made some strategic moves that had helped the company flourish during tough times. But he had his odd hiccups and this sounded like one of them.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I was reading an article about those bulls you can ride. You know, like that fellow did in that movie back in the eighties I think it was.”
“Urban Cowboy?”
“That’s the one. I understand that riding a mechanical bull is quite popular again and is a good morale booster. I thought we might try posting such an evening. Say in a week or two on an evening after work. We could have prizes and it would be a chance for people to get to know each other outside of work. And we’d invite spouses and partners, of course. I’m sure Chelsea would enjoy it.”
“Riding a mechanical bull? I’m sure she’d love it.” He paused. “But do you think it’s wise? What if people have back issues or neck trouble and give themselves whiplash? That would pretty much dump a bucket of water over the morale boosting.”
“Let’s look into it anyway. I think it would be fun. I’ve always wanted to go to a dude ranch. Never got the opportunity. I like to think there’s a little cowboy in all of us.”
And that’s when he knew that nothing he said was going to change Piers’s mind. It was already bucking a mechanical bronco.
Maybe that’s why he loved the company so much. They combined solid business acumen with a dash of the crazies. A mechanical bull. He shook his head and packed up his desk.
He returned home, having done some useful work that could have waited for the morning, but at least had given himself some space. A few more hours of intimacy with Chelsea and they’d have woken together in his bed. Officially, he’d have been in a Relationship. The kind that always had a capital letter to it.
This way, they’d enjoyed each other and he’d made the separation. Maybe it was a subtle distinction, but it mattered to him. A little sex, a few laughs, they slept in their own beds and got on with their lives and this thing ended when he got the promotion. Her business would be launched and she could move out. He hadn’t said anything but he’d already decided to invest in her business, thinking it was the least he could do when she’d helped him out so much. He refused to contemplate the possibility that he was planning to bribe her not to hate him.
The town house was quiet when he entered it. A single lamp burning in the living area. The kitchen was back to spotless, the way she usually left it, so he knew she wasn’t still sacked out in his bed.
Now his only worry was that she’d misunderstood the situation and had moved all her stuff into his room. He crept upstairs to take a look, but when he stuck his head into his own bedroom he found that the bed was neatly made and all trace of Chelsea gone. There was no sign she’d even been there.
Strangely enough, no sooner did he have confirmation that she hadn’t misunderstood the situation, that she was gone, than he found himself wanting her in his bed, wanting her warm, willing body.
He shook his head. Dragged off his clothes and flopped into bed. And found her scent clinging to the pillow. He turned his back resolutely and went to sleep. But when he woke in the middle of the night, half dreaming that she was back in his bed and in his arms, he realized he’d shifted to “her” side of the bed, and his nose was pressed into the pillow that held her scent.