AS THEY STEPPED off the sidewalk and entered the Waldorf’s brick-paved courtyard, Bonnie plotted her escape. She didn’t want Theo to know she was staying in the same hotel. First of all, she didn’t want to have to explain why she was staying in a hotel. And second, she didn’t think it was wise to reveal she was sleeping under the same roof as the too-charming Brit. As if letting him know she was also staying here would be akin to inviting him to her room or something.
The noise of the city was muted here, and their steps echoed on the brick cobblestones lining the courtyard. She cast a glance sideways, unable to resist admiring his profile. She could admit, from a purely objective standpoint of course, that Theo was a very handsome man. Tall and lean, but with wide shoulders filling out his suit jacket, his crisp Oxford shirt stretching snug across his broad chest.
Bonnie didn’t have to imagine what that chest and shoulders looked like; she knew. She’d been standing in the hallway of a hotel in London when he’d opened the door to his room, dressed in nothing but a towel. The way she could recall the encounter in perfect detail, one would think she had a photographic memory. Still wet from a shower, his thick locks of hair dripped, the water beading on his chest, rolling down his abdomen, droplets following the trail of dark hair below his navel and disappearing beneath the white cotton wrapped around his waist …
She sucked in a lungful of bracing spring air and pulled up short a few steps from the hotel’s entrance. “Well, then. Here we are.” She smiled up at him, trying not to notice how the late afternoon sunshine slanted over the buildings at just such an angle to shine on his face, making his blue eyes sparkle.
“Fancy a drink?” he asked, nodding his head toward the hotel. “To thank you for accompanying me through the dangerous intersections.” He grinned.
Heaven help her. “I shouldn’t … I mean, I couldn’t.” She stumbled over her words.
He quirked a brow. “Which is it?” His grin widened, and a dimple appeared.
Immediately, the backs of her knees tickled, prickling with heat. “Can’t,” she said more firmly.
“I see.” His face fell. “Forgive me, I’m sure you have other obligations to attend to.” His gaze wandered to her left hand.
Bonnie flexed her fingers inside her gloves. No, she was not relieved he couldn’t see she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. Fine, she was. But only because it saved her from having to explain anything. “I really should be going,” she said, pasting a hasty smile on her face. “It was nice running into you. Again.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he assured her.
Somehow, the line coming from him was endearing and not smarmy. Theo had a way of doing that. He reached for her hand, and she quickly thrust out her right. He took it, but rather than place a polite kiss on her gloved fingers, he turned her palm up and brushed his lips across the inside of her wrist, at the patch of bare skin between her glove and coat.
Oh. The prickling intensified, and her legs wobbled.
She yanked her hand back. “Well. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She risked a glance up at him. “You know, with Cassie and Logan. For wedding stuff.”
“Right,” he agreed, watching her, “wedding stuff.”
“Okay then … bye!” She turned on her heel, hoping she didn’t look as awkward as she felt, and hurried out of the courtyard. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
She kept up the mantra until she reached the sidewalk but couldn’t resist one last glance over her shoulder as she eased into the crowd. Framed in a sliver of golden sunshine, Theo was still standing in the courtyard, the weight of his intense blue gaze landing unerringly on her.
Locking her knees, She forced her legs to keep moving and disappeared into the sea of pedestrians. Instead of stopping in the coffee shop as she’d originally planned, Bonnie kept walking, waiting for the tingling sensation to wear off. She rounded the corner and headed up State Street, knees still prickling.
The problem was, she couldn’t stop thinking about Theo and his charming manners and his charming smile and his charming eyes. The man was a freaking British tea bag steeped in charm, and those darn dashing dimples of his turned her legs to jelly. She walked faster. Fifteen minutes later, cheeks cold and chapped from the brisk spring wind blowing in off the lake, Bonnie entered the Waldorf courtyard again, nodded to the bewildered doorman, and strode inside.
As she made her way through the lobby, she started another mental to-do list. Focused on ticking off boxes in her head, she almost missed the tall dark-haired man standing at the bank of elevators, his broad back to her.
She knew that back, knew those shoulders and that perfectly combed head of hair. She’d waved goodbye to that head a quarter of an hour ago.
What the hell is he still doing downstairs? A squeak of frustration escaped her. Theo’s head snapped up. Bonnie panicked. Before those dashing blue eyes turned in her direction, she backpedaled, scurrying into one of the many alcoves lining the lobby.
Huddled on the bench in the recessed space, she held her breath, listening intently for the ding of an elevator. Knowing her luck, he’d come investigate, if for no other reason than because she’d find it inconvenient. Any second now, his head would appear around the alcove, gorgeous blue eyes curious. He’d ask what she was doing there, and she’d say …
She’d say …
She’d say she had to use the restroom. All that tea at the Drake, you know? Then he’d smile that dimpled smile of his, and her knees would turn to water, and oh, for heaven’s sake, Bonnie, how do you get yourself into these situations?
The elevator bell chimed, and Bonnie popped her head up. After the hushed whoosh of the doors sliding closed, she counted to ten, and then set her feet on the floor. She crept around the edge of the alcove. The coast was clear.
Phew. She hurried forward to catch the next elevator. As she waited, a new fear cropped up in her paranoid brain. What if he forgot something and came back down? What if the elevator returned to the main floor, and the doors opened to reveal Theo standing there? Deciding she was not willing to risk the possibility, Bonnie headed for the stairwell.
Three flights up, she was starting to regret her decision. She actually did need to pee, and her feet were killing her. She loved her new emergency credit card boots, adored them. But they were brand new, and walking to and from the Drake had barely begun to break them in. Now, each step she took was met with stinging pain as the cute ankle boots rubbed against the back of her heels.
When she reached the landing for the fifth floor, Bonnie decided she’d had enough. She didn’t really plan to take the stairs all the way up to her floor anyway, did she? She was being an idiot; there was no way she’d run into Theo now.
She shoved the stairwell door open and hobbled down the hall toward the elevator. Moments later, she reached her floor and slipped into the empty hall. Relief flooded her. A few more steps and she’d be safely tucked away in Sadie’s suite.
Barely twenty feet from where she stood, a door swung open. The tidal wave of relief froze, her blood turning to slush. Exiting his room, only a few doors down from her own suite, was Theo.
Of course.
Ice bucket in hand, he pulled his door shut and headed down the hall, away from her. She bit her lip and stared at his retreating figure. Fists clenched, aching feet poised to flee, she squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Please don’t look back.
“Miss Blythe?” a cultured English voice called out.
She scrunched up her face, closing her eyes even tighter.
“Bonnie?”
The voice was closer now. She risked a peek, opening one eye, and regretted the move instantly.
He’d reached the spot where she stood glued to the hall carpet.
“Theo!” She smiled wide, lips stretched across her teeth. “What a surprise.”
“I could say the same.” He looked down at her, mouth curving in a much more genuine, albeit curious smile. “Did I miss something?”
“What?” she asked, hating and loving how she had to tilt her chin to look up at him. Gabe was of average height, only a few inches above her own five-foot-four. Standing in front of her, Theo’s chin cleared the top of her curls, and that was while she was in heels. It would be so easy to lean against him, to lay her cheek on his chest … “What’s missing?” she asked, trying to focus on the conversation while her imagination continued to cuddle him.
“That’s precisely what I’m trying to figure out.” He chuckled, a low rumbling sound that did funny things to her insides. “Are you following me?”
Bonnie swallowed hard. “No.”
He bent his head and leaned closer. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She scooted away from him, but her hasty escape was impaired by a burst of fire in her right heel. Ignoring the excruciating sting of leather shredding her skin, she shuffled forward, gritting her teeth as pain lanced through her. Damn new shoes.
“Are you all right?” Theo called from behind her.
“Fine,” she seethed, and kept moving.
“No, you’re not.” He caught up to her. “What is this, the Ministry of Silly Walks?”
She ignored his Monty Python reference. Shuffle. Wince. Shuffle. Wince.
“Bonnie, this is nonsense.” He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop. “I can see you are in pain.” His blue eyes searched hers, brows furrowed in concern. “What happened?”
It was his concern that undid her.
“What happened?” Her voice was too high, too shrill. She paused and reined herself in. “You want to know what happened?”
“Yes.”
She expected him to glance around, to check if they were alone in the hallway, worried about making a scene. But he didn’t. He just stared at her, eyes intent, concern even more evident than before—concern for her. “Yes, I want to know. I asked, didn’t I?”
“I bought new shoes.”
“Oh.” The abrupt shift from concern to confusion on his face was almost comical.
“Yeah, I bought new boots this morning, and they’re killing me.” She bent and yanked at the high-heeled boot, sucking in a breath as it rubbed against the blister, slicing into her skin while she pulled it off her foot.
“Christ, you’re bleeding.”
She glanced down. A bright red stain soaked the heel of her new tights. Bonnie stared at the blood, lip trembling. And then she just lost it. Dropping her boot, the floodgates opened, and she began to sob.
In an instant, Theo was there. He set the ice bucket down on the ground and wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her face into his broad chest, crying and sniffling and making a blubbery mess. But the tears wouldn’t stop. They kept coming, waves of them, and all she could do was cling to him and ride out the storm.
Distantly, she was aware she was moving. Theo had picked her up and was carrying her, one arm tucked behind her knees and the other wrapped around her back. Face still huddled against his chest, the sobs turned to hiccups.
Theo stopped walking. Leaning over her, his mouth close to her ear, he said, “I’m going to set you down now, all right?”
She nodded.
He lowered her to the ground, and she wobbled, unsteady with only one boot on. “My boot—”
“I have it, Cinderella.” He held up the ice bucket, her new ankle boot sticking out of the top.
She giggled. Then hiccupped.
Tucking the bucket under his arm, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key card. Swiping it in the slot, he held the door open and gestured for her to step inside.
Bonnie hesitated.
“Please,” he said, “let me help you.”
She eyed him. Theo’s once crisp shirt was a disaster, a sodden, wrinkled mess, and she was pretty sure she’d gotten snot on him. “I ruined your shirt.”
“I have others.”
“You’ve done enough.” She reached for her boot. “I’m fine, really.”
He let her take it, swinging the ice bucket in one hand. “Don’t you trust me?”
She stared down at her boot, fiddling with the decorative little buttons on the side. He wasn’t the problem. She didn’t trust herself.
“Come along.” His starched accent brooked no arguments. “I’ll get you patched up.”
Before she knew it, she was propped on the chaise in Theo’s suite, pulling off her other boot while he called the front desk and ordered a first aid kit sent up. Waiting for it to arrive, he busied himself with the room’s tea and coffee service. “I’ll make you some tea.”
He smiled at her from across the room. Bonnie looked away before the dimples made an appearance. “We just had tea.”
“Another spot of tea never hurt anyone,” he said over the gurgle of hot water streaming from the coffeemaker. “In fact,” he continued, popping a bag into the steaming paper cup, “I’d say it was just the thing.”
A knock sounded at the door. He handed her the tea and went to answer it. She stared down at the amber liquid. As the heat slowly seeped into her palms, she realized she was still wearing her gloves, and still in her jacket as well.
Theo returned, carrying a small plastic box. “Now then, let’s get you fixed up, shall we?”
He knelt at the end of the chaise and opened the kit. “Hmm,” he muttered, inspecting her heel.
“What?”
He made an awkward little cough and glanced up. “Um…”
Bonnie looked at her foot and realized his dilemma. She was wearing tights. He could either cut them or … “Here.” She passed him the cup. “Give me a minute.” She scooted off the chaise and headed for the bathroom, half hopping, half hobbling on tiptoe to avoid possibly getting blood on the hotel’s carpet. Closing the door, she tugged off her gloves and tucked them into a pocket, shrugging the jacket off. Then she reached under her skirt to shimmy her tights down her legs. She rinsed them in cold water, doing her best to get the bloodstain out of the heel.
She washed her hands and splashed her cheeks. Drying off, she glanced in the mirror, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Her face was worse off than Theo’s shirt. Beet-red nose, eyes puffy and smudged with streaks of mascara. Bonnie grabbed a couple of tissues and dabbed here and there, doing her best to minimize the damage. Or at least look less like a deranged raccoon. Whatever. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, right? She met her eyes in the mirror. Right.
A tap on the door had her wiping frantically at the remaining smudges. “Just a minute,” she called over the running water.
“Is everything all right in there?”
“Yeah…” Bonnie rinsed her hands and shut off the faucet. She picked up her tights, squeezed out the excess water, and then hung them on the towel rack to dry. Taking a shaky breath, she opened the bathroom door.
Theo was standing on the threshold, his face inches from hers.
Unable to meet his gaze, she floundered for a distraction. “Your shirt!” She ordered, thrusting a hand out, “Give it to me.”
“Pardon?”
“I’ll rinse it out in the sink.”
He made a face, looking as if he would argue further, but then sighed and began to undo the buttons. “If it will get you to hurry up, fine.” He handed her the shirt.
Bonnie grabbed it from him and flipped the cold water back on. No, she told herself as she rubbed the little bar of hotel soap over the stains, she was not disappointed he’d been wearing a T-shirt underneath. No, she said, scrubbing harder, she’d not been hoping for another glimpse of his bare Brit bod. She rinsed the shirt and flung it over the towel rack, next to her tights.
“Ready?”
She jumped. Theo was standing behind her. In the mirror’s reflection, she watched him hold up the first aid kit and shake it.
“Um, sure.” She met his gaze in the mirror. “It’s not that bad, really.” Her gaze dropped to his chest. Not bad at all. The soft cotton of his white T-shirt stretched snugly across his pecs and bunched tight around the thick swell of his biceps. He wasn’t bulging with muscles, but what he had were well-made and … perfect.
“I can take care of myself, you know,” she grumbled as he led her back to the chaise.
“Tut-tut.” He brushed aside her protests and pressed down on both her shoulders, urging her to sit.
Lacking the energy to argue further, she sat. Theo knelt on the floor in front of her, rummaging through the kit. His shoulders bunched, and her belly quivered. She shifted her focus, studying the top of his dark head while he opened an alcohol wipe. A moment later his fingers wrapped around her ankle and lifted her leg. He swabbed the back of her heel.
She gasped.
He glanced up, and when his eyes met hers, she struggled for another breath, oxygen suddenly in short supply. She forced herself to continue to breathe, unable to look away, locked on his gaze. His eyes were a bright bold blue she’d found breathtaking enough from afar, but up close, she noticed a starburst of indigo encircling his pupils, creating a shift in color so slight as to be almost imperceptible. The discovery felt intimate, like a secret.
“Sorry.” His face creased with concern. “Stings?”
Bonnie bit her lip and managed some sort of noise in response. It didn’t sting, it tingled … everywhere. Awareness sparked from where his warm hand gripped her ankle, danced up her calf, tickled her thigh, and settled between her legs. She squirmed on the chaise.
“I’ll do my best to be quick,” he assured her, resting her leg on his knee and reaching for a bandage.
Honestly, the man could take as long as he wanted. The smooth linen of his dress pants brushed her bare calf, and she could feel his leg muscles bunching beneath her when he shifted his weight.
“There.” His fingers were strong yet gentle as they smoothed the edges of the bandage over her heel. “All done.” He patted her ankle and smiled up at her, twin dimples firing.
Good thing she was sitting down, because her knees would have completely failed her. Mouth dry, she licked her lips and croaked out a thank you.
“No problem at all,” he said, his gaze shifting to her lips. He swallowed. She could see his Adam’s apple bob above the cotton neckline of his tee.
“Sorry about your shirt,” she said.
“Pardon?” He tore his gaze away from her mouth and met her eyes again.
“Your shirt.” She tilted her head toward the suite’s bathroom, then brushed a hand over the front of his T-shirt, indicating the faint stains where the residue of her crying fit had leaked through.
“It’s no matter.” He shrugged. “But, and forgive me for prying,” he said, covering her hand with his own, “I sense there is something bothering you … beyond the, uh, injury.” He cupped her fingers, pressing down gently, until her palm rested against his chest. “Care to talk about it?”
Bonnie shook her head. “I don’t know where to start.”
One corner of his mouth curled in the bud of a smile. “Perhaps you can begin with what you’re doing in my hotel. Are you stalking me?”
“I already told you I’m not following you! And it’s not your hotel.”
“You know what I mean.” The smile blossomed and, oh God, there were those damn dimples again.
She dropped her gaze and stared at their stacked hands. She shifted on the chaise, suddenly very aware of the fact he was crouched on one knee on the floor in front of her, her bare leg still propped on his thigh, her fingers still resting on his chest.
Beneath her hand, the subtle beat of his heart thumped against her palm, and Bonnie became aware of something else.
She was no longer wearing a ring on that hand.
She was no longer engaged.
“Bonnie?” Theo’s soft voice prodded.
He wanted to know why she was here? Why she was in this hotel with him instead of home with her fiancé? Fine. She’d tell him.
“It’s not just your hotel, it’s mine too.” She glanced up. “Remember my friend Sadie? Her dad works for this hotel chain and has a suite here.” Bonnie pulled her leg off his knee. It might be easier to talk to him if they weren’t touching so much. If nothing else, it would be easier to concentrate.
“Okay…” Theo said slowly, resting back on his heels.
She pulled her hand out from under his and waved her naked ring finger in his face. “My engagement is off.”
His face went blank. Then his brows furrowed. “What happened?”
She patted the empty space on the chaise, inviting Theo to sit next to her.
“Last night,” Bonnie began, and paused, emotion tightening her throat. God, was it only just last night? She took a slow, deep breath and started again. “Last night, after I left the Shakespeare gala, I went home and found Gabe…” She stopped, struggling to get the words out. Why was this so hard? She hadn’t been the one caught sleeping around, yet a sense of shame filled her.
“Let me guess.” Theo’s voice was mild but clipped. “He wasn’t working on his paper.”
“Uh, no.” Bonnie tried to keep her tone light. “He was too busy working some blonde over.”
“Fucking areshole!” Theo cursed, blue eyes flashing, growing dark as thunder clouds.
“You’re right,” Bonnie agreed, his temper igniting her own, replacing shame with cleansing self-righteous anger. “He is a fucking arsehole!”
“What did you do?” Theo asked. “Punch him in his cheating face?”
She shook her head. “No, but I, um, I did consider cutting it off.”
“It?” His eyes rounded. “It, it?”
She nodded.
“With a knife?”
She shook her head.
“A scissors?”
Again, she shook her head.
“Well, what then?”
Bonnie blew out an embarrassed chuckle. “A nail file.”
At the horrified look on his face, her nervous titter turned into an all-out belly laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Theo demanded.
She wiped tears from her eyes. “Your face,” she wheezed. Bonnie realized much of her humor was the release of pent-up stress, but still, he did look pretty funny.
“Forgive me,” Theo said drily, “but you have to admit, that’s a chilling prospect. I’d wager your fiancé made a few faces of his own.”
“Ex-fiancé,” Bonnie stressed, before bursting into another round of giggles as she recalled Gabe’s pale face, hands crossed over his crotch. “And I didn’t do it. I only thought about doing it. Briefly.”
“Understandable,” Theo agreed. “What did you do?”
Her laughter subsided. “Told him it was over. Tossed the ring onto the bed and walked out.”
“Then it was you I saw in the lobby.”
“Huh?”
“Last night, I thought I saw you standing at the front desk.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wasn’t sure it was you.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry. You could have used a friend.”
“Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.” She sighed.
“Er, quite,” he agreed, eyeing her with a confused half-smile.
“Jane Austen? Northanger Abbey?” His expression didn’t change. Apparently, his Austen wasn’t as up to snuff as his Shakespeare. “Never mind. It’s probably a good thing you didn’t talk to me then. I wasn’t in the best mood.”
What would have happened if he had approached her last night? Her emotions had been in such turmoil, anything was possible.
“What does Cassie have to say about all this?”
Bonnie studied her fingernails. “She doesn’t know.”
“You haven’t told her yet?” His brow puckered.
“I haven’t had time.”
He didn’t say anything, but those disapproving brows rose in doubt, and he pursed his lips.
“Stop it.” She gave him a little shove. “You look like a judgmental schoolmarm.”
His pursed lips quirked, and she could tell he was struggling to maintain his dour expression. “I daresay no one has ever made such an observation regarding my appearance before.”
“Well, I daresay I’m right,” she teased. “All you need is a ruler and a pair of those horn-rimmed glasses.”
He lost the battle with his mouth and burst into laughter. Bonnie’s knees quivered. He really was too beautiful for his own good. Dashing when he smiled, absolutely devastating when he laughed. The tickling sensation moved from the backs of her knees, up her thighs, and higher still.
He waggled his finger at her, the picture of a priggish schoolmarm. “Enough trying to change the subject. Why haven’t you told Cassie yet?”
She shrugged.
“She’s your best friend.”
“I know.”
“Then, why?”
“I don’t know.”
He stared down at her, and this time, it wasn’t disapproval she saw in his face, but pity.
“Don’t feel bad for me.”
“I don’t.” He scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Well, I do.”
Her eyes widened, and he stumbled over the next few words, a string of nonsensical syllables stuttering out before he picked up a coherent line of thought again. “What I meant is, I feel bad you were treated so poorly,”
“You feel sorry for me.”
“Not at all.”
“Yes, you do,” she insisted hotly, scooting away from him as she struggled to contain the bubble of anger and frustration rising inside her. “I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
He gripped her shoulders, voice gruff, his words coming out in a rush. “I’m sorry you were hurt, but I’m not sorry it happened.”
The bubble popped. All the air in the room evaporated as they stared at each other, his confession hanging between them.
Bonnie’s mouth opened, closed, and opened again. But nothing came out. She wet her lips and tried again. “Are you saying—”
“Yes.”
“You mean you’re interested in—”
“I am.” His hands tightened on her shoulders.
“Would you mind letting me finish a sentence here?” She scowled and squirmed, trying to shake loose from his grip. “Besides, how do you know what I was going to say?”
“Shall I spell it out for you?” Theo’s blue eyes bore into hers, cutting through her bullshit. “Yes, I’m saying I’m not sorry your engagement is broken. In fact, I’m bloody thrilled.” He leaned closer, close enough she could smell the clean starchy scent of his cotton T-shirt mixed with something warm and spicy that made her think of delicious baked things.
“Because yes, I am interested in you. Very interested, indeed.”
“Indeed?” she echoed, copying his accent, trying to diffuse the moment with humor.
“Indeed,” Theo repeated, his gaze shifting to her mouth. The hungry look in his eyes completely nulled her attempt to lighten the mood.
“Oh. Well.” Her voice sounded breathy and excited in her own ears. Heat crept up her neck and cheeks. She licked her lips, belatedly realizing he was still staring at her mouth. Again, his eyes flashed, and the temperature in the room shot up by at least ten degrees. Tit for tat, Bonnie decided, shifting her gaze to stare at his mouth too.
Fair is fair, right? What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. What would be the harm in kissing him? Gabe had done a whole lot more than that. She continued to stare at Theo’s mouth, a very nice mouth, really. Full and firm. If she were to nibble on it, would he taste as good as he smelled? All spicy and sweet?
“What are you thinking?”
She shook her head.
“Tell me.” His soft command was laced with tension.
Sexual tension? “I was thinking,” she began, pausing to take a breath before diving in, “about what it would be like to kiss you.”
“Oh?”
She nodded.
“Is that all?”
He was giving her an out. There it is, Bonnie. Take it and run.
“Well, I was also thinking…” She shifted on the chaise, feeling silly and bashful, and about twelve years old. Which was probably, ironically, the last time she’d flirted. Was that what she was doing right now? Flirting? God, she was so bad at it, she didn’t even know if she was doing it.
What she did know, however, was that she liked him. And he liked her too, he said so. There you go again, sounding like a twelve-year-old. “I was also thinking,” she continued, “well, wondering actually…”
“About what?”
“About what you taste like.” Her words tumbled over each other as she spit out the admission all at once. Then, before she could change her mind, she gripped the front of his T-shirt in her fist and tugged him toward her, pulling his mouth down to hers.
A second before their lips met, she hesitated. His mouth hovered above hers. He didn’t press forward, didn’t complete the kiss. It would have been easier if he had. Would have taken the pressure off her, eased the responsibility of making a decision.
But he didn’t do that. Holding himself back, Theo’s action, or rather inaction, sent a clear message. If she was going to kiss him, it would be her choice. If she was going to put her mouth on his, it would be because she wanted to.
And, oh God, she wanted to.
Bonnie lifted her chin and met his eyes. Screw your courage to the sticking place. She brushed her mouth across Theo’s. It could almost have been accidental, a momentary bumping of lips. But this was no accident. A mistake, maybe. But she’d think about that later.
Closing her eyes, she pressed her lips to his. And quickly realized she had no idea what she was doing. She’d never kissed anyone but Gabe before. Well, there’d been stage kisses with other actors, but those didn’t count. Usually, when Gabe kissed her, there was a predictable pattern, a process she was familiar with. But now, kissing Theo, she was in completely new and unfamiliar territory.
She brushed her mouth across his again, back and forth, and each time a tingle of something electric vibrated along her nerve endings, making her skin feel more awake, more alive. The sensation encouraged her, emboldened her. She parted her lips, letting the tip of her tongue sweep against him.
Reaching out, a tentative explorer taking her first steps in the new world, Bonnie slid her tongue into Theo’s mouth the tiniest bit, testing … tasting. Tart lemon bloomed on her tongue. She smiled against his mouth, tempted to go further, and thrust her tongue deeper.
Oh. More sparks.
She traced the shape of his mouth with her tongue, licking the little dip in the center of his upper lip. Then she sunk her teeth into his full lower lip, nibbling.
He groaned. Or was that a growl?
Fascinated, Bonnie licked the spot she’d nibbled, then bit him again, harder, wanting to provoke the beast, hoping to rouse another growl from him. She got more than a growl. Animalistic sounds rumbled in his chest, vibrating beneath her hand, still fisted in his shirt.
He reached up and threaded his fingers through her hair. Bracing his palms on either side of her face, he pulled back and met her gaze, a question in his blue eyes. She answered him soundlessly, nodding. The movement caused his thumbs to brush against her earlobes and Bonnie shivered.
Permission granted, his eyes darkened to blue fire, icy hot and intense, the indigo flecks orbiting his pupils sparking. This time, when his mouth lowered to hers, he went all the way, closing the distance. This time, he kissed her, his mouth enveloping hers, all heat and hunger. He didn’t taste, he devoured. With another growl, he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, invading, exploring—claiming.
Theo took Bonnie’s mouth with his, kissing her hard and deep, the way he’d wanted to for so long. He’d waged an internal war against this desire, losing the battle every night when his guard was down and his subconscious took over, filling his dreams with kisses and so much more. But she’d belonged to someone else, forbidden fruit, and his dreams had remained just that, only fantasies.
Now she was free, and his fantasy had come to life. He knew her heart was raw, the wounds of her breakup fresh, and likely she wasn’t thinking clearly or acting sensibly. But if, in this moment, she wanted this, if she needed this—needed him—if kissing him helped her heal, made her feel better, he was happy to be of service. To bandage her wounded heart the same way he’d bandaged her heel.
The ache in his groin reminded him, despite what noble stories he told himself, this was not a completely selfless act on his part. And likely it was selfish of him to take advantage of her while she was in this state, but bloody hell, he wasn’t a damn saint. He’d given her an out, offered her a choice, made sure the decision to kiss him had been hers.
Theo traced the angles of her face, running his fingers along her jaw, across her collarbone, over her shoulders, and down her arms to rest at her waist. He shifted, pulling her closer, and she splayed her hand flat against his chest, the heat of her palm burning through the thin fabric of his undershirt. Her hand dropped lower, skimming his abdomen, until her fingers rested against the clasp of his belt buckle. His cock jerked, eager for attention. Not yet, you little bugger.
Breathing hard, Theo broke the kiss, and grappled with the tattered remains of his self-control. They were moving too fast. She hadn’t had time to process what she’d been through, and there was a good chance she’d regret … whatever it is they might do if he allowed what was happening between them to continue. He let go of her waist, pulling back to look at her.
That was a mistake.
Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, lips swollen from their kisses, eyes bright with lust. His chest tightened, need and doubt and caution warring for space. That she wanted him, was obvious. Why she wanted him, wasn’t so clear. Was he just a convenient distraction? A way to get back at the man who had cheated on her?
Do you care? That was the real question. Was he willing to let himself be used in such a way? Could he sleep with Bonnie, knowing he was a pawn, whether consciously or unconsciously, meant to level the playing field? He was fairly certain he knew the answer … and wasn’t nearly as disturbed by it as he should be.
But he wasn’t a complete git. For both their sakes, he’d give them a little space. A little time to decide if this was what they really wanted. He brushed a stray curl from her forehead. It twisted around his finger, soft and silky, clinging to him. “Well.” Theo cleared his throat. “I hope that answered your question.”
She stared at him blankly.
“About the kiss?” He gave her a light, teasing smile. “What I taste like?”
After a moment, understanding flickered in her eyes. “Oh, right.” She followed his casual, lighthearted lead and returned the grin, smacking her lips. “I’m satisfied.”
“Good.” He wasn’t satisfied—far from it—but he’d wrestle with that later. Likely while alone in bed tonight. Rising from the chaise, Theo busied himself with cleaning up the first aid supplies. He closed the kit and set it aside before returning to sit next to her, trying not to stare at her bare legs and the adorable sprinkling of freckles on her knees, or to think about how he wanted to kiss each one. He’d tasted her mouth … now he was dying to know what she tasted like everywhere.
He cleared his throat again. “Back to my original question. Why haven’t you told Cassie about the breakup yet?”
She stared at her hands, resting in her lap. Her right hand fiddled with her left, twisting a phantom ring. “It’s stupid,” she finally said.
“I doubt that,” he assured her.
“Well, it’s juvenile.” Bonnie raised her gaze to his. “I’m jealous of her.”
“Of Cassie?” Theo straightened. Had he read her wrong? Did Bonnie want Logan instead? Had she been attracted to his friend all this time?
“Yes, of Cassie. I’ve been engaged for over a year, to a man I’ve been with for freaking ever, and here she is, planning a wedding to a guy she hasn’t even known for a year!”
“Ah,” Theo said.
“What do you mean, ‘Ah’?” She glared at him, her mouth twisting defiantly, petulantly.
“It’s only, I understand now.”
“You do?”
“Of course. Have I ever told you I’m the oldest of four children? And that all my siblings are sisters?”
“So?”
“Let’s just say, I have a better understanding of the female psyche than most men.”
“What a pigheaded, chauvinistic thing to say,” she scoffed, voice rising.
“All three of my sisters would agree with you. And perhaps you’re right, but chauvinistic or not, I’m right too.”
She snorted. “Another chauvinistic response.”
Theo ignored the jab. He’d been navigating the minefield of his sisters’ emotional outbursts his entire life and had learned when to keep his trap shut. Even though now was very likely one of those times, he couldn’t resist pressing the issue. “It’s all right to be upset, to be jealous even. Your friend is getting the very thing you’ve been waiting a long time for. I agree, it’s not fair. But that’s not her fault. And it’s not fair of you to treat her like it is.”
“That’s not what I’m doing!” she sputtered.
“Isn’t it?” He held her gaze steadily, until she squirmed and looked away.
“You have your schoolmarm face on again,” she grumbled.
He chuckled but resisted her attempt to change the subject once more. No, she was going to work through this. And he was going to help her, if she’d let him. Any way he could. And yes, Theo decided, that included if she wanted to use him as a rebound lover.
Perhaps that was for the best. It wasn’t as if he could offer her more.
But part of him acknowledged he was interested in more.
Even as he accepted this truth, the same honest, no-nonsense part of him warned he couldn’t pursue that interest. Aside from the fact he lived halfway around the world, as acting head of the Wharton family and heir to the Emberton title, he had duties to fulfill. Obligations. Expectations. People were counting on him. His mother, his sisters … every bloody soul who depended on the Embertons for their livelihood.
Unlike his failure of a father, Theo was determined not to let them down.
Land rich and coin poor, with many of their extensive properties mortgaged to the hilt, Theo’s father had dug the family deeper into debt year after year, leaving the Wharton finances in dire straits upon his death. Theo had been raised knowing it would be his job to undo the damage. His duty to save the family from complete financial ruin.
Over the past several years, he’d thrown himself into the task. Through a series of wise investments and careful estate management, he’d been able to stave off the worst from happening and avoided bankruptcy. But keeping the Emberton holdings solvent was like bailing water off a sinking ship with a teaspoon.
Eventually, he would have to succumb to the inevitable and follow through on his mother’s plan. Which meant marrying an heiress with pockets deep enough to buoy the Wharton coffers. Which also meant he had no business contemplating a relationship, of any kind, with Bonnie.
And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for her hands. “Look,” he told her. “You said it yourself; friendship is the balm of broken hearts or whatnot. Cassie is your best friend. The two of you have been together even longer than you’ve known what’s-his-name, right?”
“You mean Gabe?”
He nodded. He recalled the cad’s name. He just didn’t want to say it.
“Yeah, Cassie and I became friends when we were in first grade. How did you know?”
“You told me. In London, while we were on the Eye. Remember?”
Bonnie nodded, her smile turning shy. “I can’t believe you remember.”
Theo brushed it off. He remembered every detail about their encounter last summer, but she didn’t need to know that. “Speaking of remembering, what’s important here is that you need to remember how much your friendship with Cassie means to you. Don’t let what that bugger—Gabe—did get between you two. Tell her what happened.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “She’ll be hurt if she thinks you hid it from her.”
“Wow, that’s really good advice.”
“I told you.” Theo leaned back, her compliment making him feel like a bloody king. “Three sisters.”
“Okay, okay. Keep the ego in check, please.” Bonnie made a show of rolling her eyes, slipping her hands out of his grip. “But you’re right. I’ll tell Cassie. She wants to get together and discuss”—she grimaced—“wedding stuff with us before you leave. When are you heading back to London?”
“Monday.” Theo stood and offered her a hand up. “I believe Lo mentioned something about supper tomorrow night?”
She headed for the bathroom. “That works.” A second later, she returned, tights bunched in her hand. “We should take you somewhere special. A Chicago tradition.”
“Sounds delightful.” Theo fought to keep his smile in place and groaned inwardly, not sure his stomach could handle another round of gut-busting deep-dish. “Can I walk you to your room?”
She glanced up from grabbing her boot. “This again? I can get there by myself, thank you.”
“Sorry. Habit.”
“I know. You’re just being polite.” She sighed. “Truth be told, it’s actually kind of nice.”
The grin he flashed her faded when he noticed she’d begun to wobble a little. “Are you all right? You sure you want to walk back barefoot? I can carry—”
“I’m fine,” she insisted, gritting her teeth as she gathered up her coat and bag, her movements jerky, almost brusque.
Theo decided it was best not to press. And carrying Bonnie to her room, soft bare thighs balanced on his arm, warm weight curled against his chest, was probably not wise. “Well then, until tomorrow night?” he asked, holding his hotel room door open for her.
“Yes.” She paused in the doorway. “And thanks again, for … everything.”
He held her gaze, unable to resist letting some of his pent-up feelings slip through. “My pleasure.”