In spite of the ever-present coastal wind that seemed always to increase as the day wore on, the sun beat down on Claire’s head as she and Brett picked their way down to the beach. They’d driven outside of town for beach access because the municipal parking near the access had been full.
The path between jagged rocks and sand grass was narrow, and she was glad she’d left her shoes on because the sharply bladed grass grew across it in places. But when they hit the beach, she wasted no time divesting herself of her sandals and burrowing her bare toes in the warm sand.
Taking a deep breath of the salt-laden air, she closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun…and listened. Gulls flew overhead, their song mixing with the symphonic roar of the ocean. In that moment, she could truly forget all the ugliness they had left behind in Portland.
This was peace. This was beauty. A timeless place that had extended comfort to weary souls longer than written history could account for.
“Like the beach, do you?” Brett asked, an odd note in his voice.
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Oh, yes. Mom used to bring me here, before she lost her license for driving while under the influence. It was her favorite place and she loved it best in summer, but there’s a stark beauty in the winter I’ve always been drawn to as well.”
“I’ve never been to the beach in winter.”
“Georgia doesn’t really have a winter, does it?”
“Not if you mean cold, no…but storms, yes. We didn’t spend much time at the beach regardless when I was growing up. My parents preferred the mountains.”
“You mean like Aspen every winter?”
“Exactly. My father bought a vacation home there for Mama the year before I was born.”
Their backgrounds were so different. She’d only been to Mt. Hood a couple of times and she’d never so much as bought a ticket for the ski lift. “I guess you can ski.”
“Sure.” He said it like, didn’t everyone?
“I can’t. Not even water ski, but I can fly a kite. Want to give it a try?”
“I’m not flying the butterfly.”
“What’s the matter? Afraid someone will think you’re a sissy?” she said, fighting a smile.
He was the most masculine man she’d ever known. Even with his southern charm, he exuded an aura of menacing strength that was unmistakable. His overachieving tendencies might make him a good fit with his family, but his personality and intimidating presence made him fit right in with his equally intimidating mercenary friends.
He sauntered close, managing to suck the oxygen out of the vicinity even though they were outside. Warm hands cupped the sides of her face and sent electric shocks through her. She shivered in response.
His brows rose in acknowledgement of her reaction. “My sense of masculinity is not in question, sugar.”
“How could it be? You’ve got more testosterone than a room full of Olympic-contender power-lifters.”
“You think?” His grin tugged at her emotions while sending her sensory receptors on overload.
“I…” She had to clear her throat to finish the thought. “I do think.”
She couldn’t say anything more because his mouth was on hers. Smooth, firm lips molded her own and demanded a response she had no hope of holding back.
Her body moved of its own volition into contact with his and she felt the hard evidence of his arousal immediately. Even while her feminine instincts rejoiced at the proof of her effect on this incredible man, the small still-functioning portion of her brain reminded her that they were on a public beach.
She was trying to muster a response to that thought when he broke the kiss.
He put distance between their bodies and rested his forehead against hers. “Kite-flying is not what I want to do right now.”
Her head bowed as it was, she could not miss how his erection strained against his pants in silent, irrefutable testament to his words. A responding throb in the moist, swollen place between her legs avowed that her body agreed with his. However, now that his mouth was no longer playing havoc with her mind, her common sense prevailed.
“It’s all we can do on this beach without getting arrested for performing a lewd act in public,” she said in a soft, teasing voice.
“We could get a hotel room.”
She forced herself to step back from him and break the final contact of their bodies. Their eyes met and amusement warred with temptation inside her.
“That’s the second time you’ve offered. Should I be flattered or worried you’ve got some kind of hotel-room fixation?”
“The only thing I’m fixated on is having absolute privacy for what I want to do with you. Since you’re the only woman I want to do things with that are better left behind the seclusion of a locked door, it’s your call whether or not you should feel flattered.”
Her brain said she shouldn’t. Physical desire wasn’t exactly a higher-level emotion, but she couldn’t help feeling that for a man like Brett to desire her as much as he did was extraordinary. He didn’t want just any woman to alleviate his urges, he wanted her and that made her unique to him. Special.
It boggled her mind that he could crave her when the world was full of beautiful, sophisticated, and accomplished women who would know just how to please a man like him. And who would be more than willing to give it a try.
How long could his fixation with her possibly last?
“What are you thinking?” he asked, his blue gaze probing. “You’re wearing an interesting look I can’t quite place.”
“I’ve decided to be flattered.”
“That’s good.” He took a step toward her, his big body towering over her and emanating sexual intent.
She backed away, a teasing grin on her face even though her heart was beating so fast she should be running a relay. “I’ve also decided to teach you how to fly a kite.”
“Claire,” he groaned out.
She bent down and grabbed the butterfly kite and her sandals before dancing farther out of reach. “Come on. The wind is perfect for flying.”
“I know another way to take you flying, sweetheart, and the day is perfect for that, too.”
She spun away from him, her heart light, and headed down the beach. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a one-track mind?”
“It may have been mentioned a time or two,” he drawled.
“So, you’re always this single-minded when you want sex?” There went her theory of being unique to him.
“No.” The word came out forceful and intense.
She stopped to look back at him.
His eyes captured hers and refused to let go. “Things are different with you, Claire.”
“Special?”
“Yes.”
“You sound like that bothers you.”
“It does.”
“Why?”
“I can give you my body. I can’t give you my future.”
“I know.” It already belonged to a dead woman, and that, more than anything, should be enough to bolster her defenses against his sexual charisma.
Unfortunately, what her head said and her body felt were miles apart and not even speaking the same language.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” he gritted out.
“That you want something more than sex from me because you want it so much? Don’t worry.” She turned and started walking again. It was easier to talk about this without making eye contact. “I know I’m not the kind of woman you would make a life with even if you hadn’t made your rule against marrying.”
“That’s not true.”
It was a kind lie, but she knew better. She wasn’t her mom, who had been beautiful but weak. Claire might be strong, but she was no Cindy Crawford in the looks department. Men like Brett required both in the women they chose to share their lives with.
With average looks and the personality of a computer sometimes, she was so not in his league.
“It doesn’t matter. My plans for the future don’t include white picket fences and toddlers creating obstacle courses in my living room with their toys, either.”
Hotwire heard the words that should have alleviated his concerns, and all he felt was annoyance. “Why don’t you want to get married and have kids? You’d make a great mother.”
“Yeah, right. Every child wants a mom who was trained in the job by a drunk and who relates better to computers than people on most days.” She was still ahead of him, so he couldn’t see her eyes, but her tone was dead serious.
Was she really that clueless about what she had to offer? She would make some very lucky man an incredible wife and any child would be blessed for her to be its mother. The thought of some faceless man laying claim to her heart and body made Hotwire angry, but he knew he shouldn’t be feeling that way.
He should be encouraging her to go find that faceless man instead of trying to seduce her into his own bed, knowing he had nothing to offer her but a lot of pleasure.
Not going to happen.
He’d realized that somewhere between showing up at the hospital to find her bruised and hurting and when he gave her a mind-blowing orgasm to alleviate that pain. He might as well give up the whole noble consideration thing because all it was going to do was make him cranky.
That did not mean he didn’t think she’d make a great mom someday. “You’re selling yourself short, sugar.”
Claire dropped to the ground and ripped open the plastic bag with her kite in it. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“Of course it matters.”
She started fitting the frame pieces into the nylon casings. “Why? What I do with my future, or don’t do with it, has nothing to do with you.”
He lowered himself to the sand beside her and started in on his own kite. “We’re friends.”
“So, what…you want to be a pseudo uncle someday?”
“I’m already an uncle.”
“So why should it matter if I have children or not?”
He didn’t have a ready answer for her. It shouldn’t matter. “I guess it doesn’t. I just don’t like you selling yourself short is all.”
“I don’t think I am. Now, can we drop the subject?”
He shrugged, though he had to force the casual gesture from muscles that were too tight. “Sure, but don’t think I’m going to be so accommodating about making love. That’s one subject I have no intention of setting aside.”
She didn’t say anything in response and that worried him. Was she determined to hold him off? Had she used her studying as an excuse to distract him? No. It had really been important to her to ace her exams.
And he knew she wanted him. So why was she so reticent?
There were no answers in the shiny red curls that hid her face as she bent over the butterfly kite. Though why he was looking so hard when he was the one who had told her he wasn’t looking for a future with her, he didn’t know. She was an intense person who didn’t trust easily, and with her background, it was no wonder.
He’d offered her sex and none of the relationship trappings that go along with it. That made him a real prize…not. But that didn’t mean he was giving up. He couldn’t, and frankly, he didn’t think Claire could, either.
Kite-flying turned out to be way more engrossing, not to mention challenging, than Hotwire had expected. He said as much to Claire, whose butterfly had made a nosedive for the sand for something like the fifth time.
She laughed. “Why do you think they have worldwide competitions? It’s another take on the theme of man against nature.”
He walked with her as she reeled in her string so she could retrieve the kite. “Your butterfly is losing.”
“While your lizard is staying high in the sky—I know.”
“Too much wind for your kite.” The shop owner had said strong winds could be detrimental to a low-flying delta.
“If I went really, really high, it would be okay,” she said, confirming his suspicions, “but I’m not excited about holding one end of a string attached to a speck in the sky. I like the challenge of keeping it fairly close.”
He could give her something to excite her, and the wind wouldn’t impact it one little bit. “So, being challenged is more important than success to you?”
A determined glint lit her brown eyes. “I want both.”
The intensity radiating off of her affected his libido like a shot of Viagra and he had to will his hands to stay occupied with his kite and off her body. “You’re real sexy when you get that stubborn look on your face, you know that?”
She laughed like he was joking, but he wasn’t, and if she took a peek at what was happening below his belt buckle, she’d know it.
She got the butterfly back up and their strings promptly tangled. She swore and then slapped her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.
It was his turn to laugh…until his kite’s tail got in the tangle and the diamond shape started heading downward.
“I’ll get it, don’t worry.” But in her effort to scoot around him and free her string, she tripped and fell backward.
He grabbed for her, but was still trying to keep his kite from dive-bombing and ended up falling with her.
They landed in the sand with a thump, their limbs tangled as badly as their kite strings.
She was laughing like a kid on a merry-go-round, and he smiled at the pleasure glowing in her eyes.
“I think Mother Nature won,” she said drolly.
He couldn’t control the urge to brush his fingers over her smiling face. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Looking past his shoulder, she grimaced. “Both kites are headed for the sand now.”
He dipped his head forward and breathed in her scent. It was every bit as fresh as the sea air, but infinitely more seductive to him. “That’s unfortunate.”
“You don’t sound sincere.”
“You expect me to care right now?” He’d managed to retain his hold on the kite string, but at that moment the only thing that interested him was the feel of the woman under him.
“Why not?” Her eyes were all innocence, but her voice was breathless.
She knew exactly what was on his mind, and in case she didn’t, he shifted so his hardened sex was pressing against the apex of her thighs. “You sure you don’t know the answer to that?”
Her soft brown gaze went unfocussed. “Wh-what?”
She was so responsive, her body’s reaction to him instantaneous. How could she deny this thing between them?
Claire couldn’t think, not with Brett’s hard body pressing into hers as intimately as a man could do with his clothes on. He’d asked her a question, but she couldn’t remember what it was, much less formulate an answer. This wanting for him grew and grew and grew, until it was a living thing inside of her. She craved the sensation of his naked skin against her, the tenderness of his touch.
Memories of the first night in the hotel would not go away, and with him on top of her like this, they overwhelmed her senses, making her inner woman demand more of the same.
Blue eyes, darkened to indigo with desire, bore into hers. “You want me, Claire, admit it.”
“Yes.” She licked her lips.
His gaze narrowed. “I’m going to kiss you.”
“Please…”
He did, his mouth devouring hers with the passion that exploded every time their lips met. His tongue tangled with hers and she sucked on it, shivering with desire at the masculine sound of need he made. The kiss went on and on and she lost herself in it, wanting more than his mouth, needing to touch his hot, smooth skin.
Her fingers scrabbled against his shirt to undo buttons, but a hard hand settled over hers, stopping her. She moaned in protest.
He abruptly broke the kiss and rolled onto his back, his chest heaving.
She turned her head toward him. “Brett?”
“Give me a minute, sugar. You came damn close to being nailed on a public beach.”
She’d noticed he only swore when he was not in complete control. A secret thrill went through her that she could affect him like that, but she shuddered. The effect was entirely mutual. Two seconds ago she wouldn’t have cared less where she was as long as he made love to her.
Brett sat up and she reluctantly did the same, her body thrumming with a level of desire she’d never experienced before meeting this man.
“I need you now.”
“I can see that you do.”
“Are you saying you don’t feel the same?” he asked with masculine aggression.
“No. I’m not saying that,” she replied softly.
“Then we get a hotel room.”
“That sounds so cold-blooded.”
He shook his head, clearly impatient. “The last thing either of us feels around the other is cold.”
“But…”
“But nothing. Time is running out, Claire.” A different kind of desperation laced his voice. One she didn’t understand.
“Why?” What made right this second different from two days ago, or two days from now, for that matter? She asked that, too.
“My mom’s birthday is on Saturday and I’m expected in Georgia sometime before the big party.”
He’d be leaving her. Her heart contracted, but she tried to keep her disappointment off her face. “I’m sure your family will be glad to see you.”
He waved her words away as if they were pesky flies. “If I didn’t show, both Mama and my sister would have my guts for garters, but that’s not what’s got my dick tied in knots. I’ve been taking cold showers for longer than I want to admit because of you, and now we have one, maybe two nights before the trip to Georgia will put a moratorium on anything physical between us.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t get a single sound out before he fiercely added, “Don’t say you don’t want me, because we both know you do.”
“But what we want and what is good for us isn’t always the same thing.”
“Not in this case, sweetheart. I’ll make it very good for you. I promise. And you’re going to make it incredibly good for me, too.”
Her insides clenched and her feminine core throbbed. “I don’t doubt you.”
Though she wasn’t so confident about her own performance. She couldn’t help wondering if sex had always been so flat before because she wasn’t very good at it. After all, Brett made no bones about how much he enjoyed it. She’d always believed that it was more hype than reality, though…only his touch made her question that conclusion.
Which could mean that she’d just had bad partners, too. It was a much more confidence-boosting scenario, but she couldn’t entirely rid herself of the niggling doubt that she was the one with the problem. One of her boyfriends had said she had issues with trust.
No, duh…but had that really made her unresponsive to sex as he’d accused? Would she falter at the last hurdle with Brett, the act of making love?
She couldn’t imagine doing so while her nipples tingled inside her bra and the throbbing between her legs increased. She really wanted this man, but did she want him enough to dismiss the future as unimportant…to accept her role as a temporary lover?
Claire could never hope to replace his dead fiancée in his heart and that meant she could not hope to be a permanent fixture in his life. Not ever. There was no percentage in that kind of relationship for a woman, but did she have the strength or even the true desire to turn away from what he was offering?
“Claire?”
There was no cajolery in his voice, merely a question. What was she going to do?
She looked into his blue eyes, her heart beating too fast while her mind spun with questions and answers that left her more confused by the second. She could see his desire—feel it with unmistakable clarity—yet he didn’t push. He wouldn’t. He was her friend as well as the man who wanted to take her to bed.
He was so darn honorable…and tough…and sexy.
So much of everything she believed made a man strong, so different from her dad and the men who had paraded through her life since his death. Brett epitomized masculine perfection to her.
Oh, man.
She loved him.
It shouldn’t come as such a surprise, except, well…that she thought romantic love was pretty much for fairy tales and make-believe. It was just sexual desire and she, like so many other women before her, was trying to wrap it up in an emotional package with a pretty little bow.
Hadn’t she tried that before and been severely disappointed? To love someone, you had to be able to count on him, and she couldn’t count on anyone but herself.
You’ve certainly been counting on Brett for a lot these past few days, a snarky voice in her head reminded her.
Which did not mean she was buying into the whole love and happily ever after bit. Especially not with a man who’d sworn off love himself. But if they made love, maybe this nearly debilitating sexual desire would wane some and she could gain control of her emotions again. Her vision would not be clouded by her physical needs and she would be able to see him with clearer eyes, not through a silly, love struck haze that would never survive in the real world of sex and the morning after.
Right. Sex was going to clear her head, not cloud it further. That made so much sense, the snarky inner voice drawled.
She sighed. Great. She was arguing with herself. Maybe unrequited lust led to insanity. “When are you flying to Georgia?”
“We are flying down on Friday.”
“I’m not going…am I?”
There was no misreading the irritation in his eyes. “Of course you are. I can’t leave you here by yourself.”
“You could bring Collins in to watch over me, or I could go stay with Queenie.” Getting away from Brett might actually give her a chance to shore up her shaky defenses and clear her head without the whole sex gambit.
“No.”
“I don’t want to horn in on your mother’s birthday celebration. That sort of thing is for friends and family.”
“You are my friend.”
“But your mother doesn’t know me from Adam and it’s her birthday.”
“She’ll be thrilled to meet you. She’s been begging me to bring a woman home to meet her for ages.”
Even worse. “But I’m not a woman you’re thinking about marrying.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s a southern lady with her heart set on more grandchildren. She’ll have our wedding planned by the end of the weekend.” He said it like the thought was an amusing one, rather than horrific.
“But I don’t want her thinking we’ve got a relationship like that. It’s deceitful.”
“I didn’t say I’d tell her we were serious, but even if I tell her you’re a friend in trouble, she’ll draw her own conclusions.”
“That’s an even bigger reason for me not to go. I can’t possibly go with you to Georgia. It would be terribly awkward for both of us, but I would think for you especially.”