IT’S ABOUT DAMN TIME.
Try as she might over the last eight months, Sydney Colburn decided that her newly expanded capacity for patience had a limit. From that night back in Baltimore when Adam had hijacked the reins of their lovemaking and forced her to experience a slow tease, Sydney knew her ability to forgo instant gratification wouldn’t last. That she’d managed over two hundred and forty days—two hundred and forty-three to be exact—shocked the hell out of her.
And yet the memory of dressing for Adam, then allowing him to undress her, giving him the power to direct each and every experiment in pleasure, still ignited a hot thrill deep in her belly, along with a quick throb even lower. True love had indeed rocked her into the world of unknown possibilities, even with regards to sex. And she’d loved each and every minute.
Still, she’d had enough of the waiting.
Staring out across the open deck of what she hoped would become their third-story bedroom, currently no more than four-by-four planks and scaffolding with plenty of space for the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows, Sydney watched the vast Florida wilderness fade with the coming sunset. Many times, Sydney had used her favorite time of day in her books as symbolism for endings. But this evening, the spectrum of pinks and purples meant a new beginning—freedom from her past and Adam’s, and the fresh start they’d made together.
Only a week ago, Steven Malcolm had started serving his jail sentence for his role in Adam’s accident. Steven and Kyle had both cooperated with the police investigations, but while the former courier had received only probation for his part in the crimes, Steven had to serve time, despite his plea bargain. The only lack of justice came for the hired guns who’d run Adam down with their car. Reportedly, they’d fled the country. But since Steven had set the crimes in motion with his jealousy, both Sydney and Adam were satisfied that he would pay, not only with ten to fifteen years of his life, but with his once-sterling reputation.
In his negotiated settlement with Marcus Malcolm, Adam had reclaimed several designs he’d created while at the firm, as well as the architectural plans to the innovative office center that had finally made him a very wealthy man. But the plans for this house—one of his very first projects—had been even more special. To both of them. Both a nod to Adam’s lost past and a monument to his bright future.
The moment Sydney had seen the blueprints, she’d fallen in love—with the house. She’d already loved the man for approximately two hundred and forty-six days—soon after she’d laid eyes on him in worn blue jeans and a tool belt. Likely, even before.
And thanks to her suggestion that he build the place on the off chance that this infernal waiting game might end in a wedding, she’d been able to see him dressed in his work clothes a whole lot lately. His visits to the construction site had started as supervisory, but, before long, he’d torn off his shirt and joined the paid labor. Sydney had rented a small air-conditioned trailer so she could watch as she worked on her new book. And with her so close by, they made love whenever the mood struck them, ate picnic lunches under century-old trees, shared thoughts and dreams of the future.
The future! It had taken Adam long enough to embrace the concept, but now Sydney was ready to turn tomorrow into today.
In addition to the bulk of the profit from the final deal with the Malaysians, Adam received enough in financial compensation to build this dream home on a lush parcel of land just inland from the Gulf of Mexico. In the distance, she could hear the rumble and rattle of Adam’s old truck, winding through the thick pines and palms that lined the unpaved driveway. A mile from the nearest shell-covered road and surrounded by protected wetlands, they’d found a bucolic, private hideaway.
She’d keep her condo, too, of course. No way could she remain this far from Nieman Marcus without suffering withdrawal. But for the bulk of their week, while he built houses, she’d work in the quiet serenity of the Florida wilderness, her love for Adam having reinvigorated her love for writing. She appreciated the bestseller lists now only because they meant she reached more and more readers every day with her stories of love and redemption. Her current work in progress—the steamy tale of a man suffering from amnesia after battling Robert the Bruce, and the woman seeking to seduce his memory back—was fairly flying from her fingertips onto the screen of her computer. She’d probably turn the completed manuscript in to her editor early, leaving her plenty of time for a wedding and honeymoon.
Now she just needed the groom.
When she heard Adam’s truck hit gravel, she knew he’d be at the unfinished house in seconds. She slipped behind one of the completed interior walls, glancing around one last time to make sure everything was in place. She peered out, and certain Adam had come alone, she scurried over to the bed she’d had delivered that morning. She’d paid through the nose to have her request fulfilled on a Sunday when she’d be sure no construction workers would be around, but the price would be worth it. She arranged herself on the bed for maximum seduction and did the waiting thing, relying on the notes she’d placed strategically around the unfinished house to lure Adam upstairs.
“Sydney?”
His voice spawned an intense wave of desire over her skin, then through her body. The night would be cool, but heat still shot through the sunset hour like a stream of warm water in the gulf. She wore nothing but three red bows—one tied over her breasts and one twined lower to form a makeshift bikini bottom, and one dangling around her neck, weighted by a velvet pouch and the rings she’d purchased from a special jeweler she’d discovered on a weeklong research trip to New Orleans.
The thought of placing that ring on Adam made her bite her lip, keeping her from answering his calls. Follow the notes, she repeated silently, willing herself to complete this one last act of patient expectation.
His footfalls, increasingly urgent, matched the unbridled beat of her heart. This was it. The breaking point. The moment of no return. She lay back into the fluffy new pillows she’d placed all over the bed, swathed in silk, and silently hoped that her patience and Adam’s resolve to wait before they committed their relationship had run out at the same time.
“Sydney?”
He filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, trim waist and long, lean legs. Shadows of the oncoming night blocked his expression, but by the way he clutched the doorjamb, she knew she’d surprised him. Good. She was afraid they’d gotten to know each other so well over the last eight months that she’d lost the ability to shock the hell out of him.
“Now there’s a present I can’t wait to unwrap,” he said with a libidinous growl.
She held up a hand, stopping him midway across the large room. “Patience, Adam.”
When he ripped off his shirt and tore away the laces on his boots, she couldn’t contain a giggle. Many times over the past eight months, she’d been the one to tease him, to deny him, to make him work for the luxury of making love with her. But mainly, he’d been the one to make her wait, denying her the fast and furious pace; the spontaneous, exciting quickies she so enjoyed. Not that they hadn’t slipped every so often, but she decided today they’d remain true to their agreement to take things slowly, savor the moment.
If for no other reason than to torture him.
In seconds, he was naked, standing proud and hard at the edge of the bed. “You’ve been gone a whole week, Syd. You disappear on a trip to New Orleans without a word—although I’m definitely not complaining about the nightly phone sex. But then you leave a message on my cell phone that you’re back in town and waiting for me, and you expect me to be patient?”
She laughed, loving the frantic, barely contained lust in his voice.
“Yes. I’ll be worth the wait, I promise. But first I have a gift for you.”
He shoved his hands onto his lean, naked hips. “Looks like you have three gifts for me. Do I get to chose which one I open first?”
A thrill shot through her and she wondered which bow he’d free first, if she allowed him the pick. Her breasts? Her nipples tightened into electrified pearls, just remembering all the time he’d spent learning precisely how to pleasure her with his fingers, mouth and teeth. More than once, he’d tortured her for what seemed like hours on end, using his sensual talents only on her breasts, no matter how she bucked and begged for deeper satisfaction. Suddenly, the bow she’d twined around her sex, a thick red swath of silk and satin, seemed to tighten, constrain. The promise of feeling him buried deep inside her, his hardness to her soft heat, nearly made her stray from her original plan.
“No. See the pouch around my neck?” She curled her arms beneath her head, well aware how the movement made her breasts jut out. “That’s the first one.”
He made a gruff noise something along the lines of a frustrated sigh, but did as she instructed and removed the pouch from around her neck. Tearing the strings open, he shook the gold contents out onto his palm.
“What the heck is this?”
She laughed. She figured he wouldn’t know. She hadn’t known either, until the jewelry’s designer had explained.
“The large loop goes around your cock. The small ring attaches to your ear. You’re supposed to wear it beneath your clothes whenever you want me to…yank your chain, so to speak.”
His eyebrow darted up. “Where the hell did you find this contraption?”
Sydney shook her head, not the least surprised or daunted by Adam’s reaction. She didn’t expect him to accept such a far-out sex aid without skepticism, even one made out of fourteen-carat gold and encrusted with tiny diamonds.
“At a gallery in New Orleans. They specialize in erotic art and jewelry.”
He pinched the small loop between his fingers and let the large one drop. When he held the earring beside his ear, the bottom hoop only barely reached his waist. “Looks like this was designed for a shorter man.”
“It’s adjustable. But it’s a ring of sorts, right? I’m giving you a ring, Adam.”
A moment passed before the significance of what she’d said solidified in his mind. In an instant, he was laughing so hard, she thought he might break something. He had to sit on the bed and brace his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
She sat up, not sure whether or not to be annoyed. When he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and then grabbed her by both bows and pulled her into his arms, she forgot to care.
“Only you would use a cock ring to ask a man to marry you.”
She shrugged. “I’m bad to the bone, what can I say?”
He grabbed the jeans he’d discarded on the corner of the bed and dragged them over. “Now you can say what you think of the gift I brought you.”
He dug into the pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box. She’d known that she and Adam often followed the same wavelength, but she could barely allow herself to hope that he’d finally come to the same conclusion she had months ago.
Forgetting her bows, Sydney tore open the tiny box to find a bright platinum band of baguette diamonds, centered by a bright green emerald.
She looked up at him, speechless. His warm, light brown eyes brimmed with undeniable love.
“Marry me, Sydney. I may take a more traditional path sometimes, but my life won’t be complete without you.”
Swallowing, Sydney opened her mouth to say yes, but she didn’t have the breath to push the single word over her lips. When he twisted so that she sat on the bed and he knelt at her feet, she knew she was lost. Tears streamed down her face as he cupped her hands in his.
“Are you at a loss for words? Should I call someone?”
His crack broke through the overwhelmingly wave of emotion. “You can call whomever you like. No one will believe that I was speechless anyway. Adam, this is gorgeous.”
“You’re gorgeous. And unpredictable and exciting and brazen as hell. I couldn’t love you any more than I do right now. Please, Sydney Colburn. Be my wife.”
She closed her eyes and forced the thick lump of emotion down her throat. Unable to resist, she asked, “Do you promise to wear my gift whenever I ask you to?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m already your love slave, Sydney. If you promise to never allow my life to be forgettable, I promise to make every fantasy of yours come true.”
“Yes, Adam, yes. I’ll marry you.”
The minute he pushed her back onto the bed and began unwrapping the rest of her ribbons, Sydney knew she’d not only learned the real-life advantages of a true slow burn, but she’d found a man who would twist her bad girl ways into something wonderful—now and for always.