AIMEE SIPPED HER champagne as she looked around the elegant ballroom later that night. Her stomach was in knots and her jaw hurt from smiling for so long.
Not that the wedding ceremony and reception hadn’t been everything she’d expected. Other than Paul’s snarky ex, everyone in the family was lovely, even his rather gruff father. As she’d imagined from Paul’s description, Grace, his new sister-in-law, welcomed her with enthusiasm, making Aimee feel as though their celebration wouldn’t have been complete without her presence at Paul’s side.
Gretchen, Paul’s older sister, was serious and intense but also wickedly funny with her running commentary about how each person in attendance was part of the dysfunctional family dynamic. She had a quiet husband, Max, who clearly adored her, and two well-behaved elementary-school-age children.
Aimee loved weddings, and the personal touches Grace and Peter had added to their vows had her dabbing at the corners of her eyes. For all her talk to Avery about not caring about Valentine’s Day, she couldn’t help but be touched by the obvious love between the bride and groom. Several times during the short ceremony, her gaze had snagged Paul’s, and the intensity in his hazel eyes made her breath catch.
Part of her wished they were still in the car, which had felt like their own private sanctuary. She’d loved getting to know him, his sense of humor and inherent kindness confirming her good taste in being intrigued by him from the start. She actually hadn’t seen much of him since they’d first gone to their room. It had been obvious that he didn’t like the thought of sharing a room with her for the night. She hadn’t even thought to ask about separate accommodations, but of course he had.
She told herself he was being a gentleman. This was a business arrangement of a sort, and she’d never been the kind of woman to indulge in meaningless intimacy anyway. Especially not with a coworker.
She sighed and smiled at the waiter, who handed her a fresh glass of champagne. Who was she kidding? She had no desire for a fling with Dr. Paul Thorpe because she liked him. More than the general crush that most of the female hospital staff had on him. Yes, he was good-looking but now that she’d seen behind the curtain of his formal physician facade, she liked him even more.
It was going to be horrible if Megan indeed won him in the bachelor auction. The last thing Aimee wanted to do was hear about her roommate going on a date with Paul. Even worse, what if he spent the night at their small house or he and Megan actually got serious? Would Aimee have to move out just to save herself the reminder of what she’d never have?
“Is it as awful as all that?”
She blinked as Paul lowered himself to the empty chair next to her. He’d been seated at the head table with the rest of the bridal party. Aimee had enjoyed the group she’d ended up with for dinner, consisting mostly of Peter and Grace’s college friends.
“It was a lovely ceremony,” she said, and took another drink of champagne. The bubbles tickled her throat. Was this glass number three or four? She’d lost count, although the fizziness in her head told her it should be her last. “What could be more hopeful than a wedding on Valentine’s Day?”
“My brother has always been an idealist,” Paul said with a half smile. “It makes him a great politician. I have no doubt he’ll be a devoted husband, as well.”
“I hope so,” she whispered, resenting the emotion that clogged her throat. She thought her divorce had made her a cynic when it came to love, but she’d been holding back tears most of the night.
“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” he said. He reached out and traced a finger along the top of her hand. She felt the featherlight touch all the way to her toes. “Would you like to dance?”
The music had just changed from an up-tempo tune to a slow ballad. It would be smart to decline the invitation. She felt fragile at the moment, like her defenses were made of nothing more than tissue paper.
“Yes, I would.”
He offered his hand and a megawatt smile that did all kinds of crazy things to her insides. Then she was in his arms and the feel of it was everything she could have imagined and more.
She hadn’t dated since her divorce, hadn’t been with a man since her ex-husband. By the end of their marriage, intimacy had been so fraught with tension and the pressure to conceive, there’d been no real pleasure in the act.
One simple dance shouldn’t affect her this way. But she knew it was more than the dance. It was the man holding her, his body rock-hard under the tux he wore, yet also comforting, like a favorite pillow she wanted to snuggle closer to. He smelled of soap and spice, and it was all she could do not to press her nose to the base of his neck and inhale.
Neither of them spoke as they swayed in a gentle rhythm to the song, and Aimee wondered if Paul could feel the current of attraction that threaded between them. As if he’d read her mind, his hand squeezed her hip. Her knees went weak with longing.
She wasn’t the one-night stand type, but maybe she could make an exception. Just this once.
The thought and all the potential land mines that went with it had her stepping away from him as soon as the music ended. The DJ announced that it was time for the bouquet toss, and through her muddled mind, Aimee registered the single women making their way onto the dance floor.
Paul gave her a curious look and then laced his fingers with hers. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, and she nodded, unable to put words to the gratitude rushing through her.
His ex-fiancée—now stepmother—shot her a glare as they passed, and his sister smiled. “You’re going the wrong way,” Gretchen called, but Paul either didn’t hear her or chose to ignore the gentle admonishment.
Aimee just wanted to get away from the reception. She needed to catch her breath, to set her tumbling thoughts to rights. To get a damn hold of herself.
Paul led her out of the ballroom and across the lobby. He jabbed the elevator button, then breathed out a ragged puff of air when a chime immediately dinged. The doors swished open and he pulled her in. As the doors closed, he went to hit the button for their floor, paused and pressed the stop lever instead.
Then he turned, pulled her closer and kissed her, his mouth hot and demanding as he coaxed apart her lips. She met his need with hers, giving herself over to the moment. She groaned when the tip of his tongue touched hers. He spread his hands around her waist, and his thumbs grazed the soft flesh of her breasts through her thin dress. His touch practically set her body on fire. She leaned into him, winding her arms around his neck. He lifted his mouth from hers and kissed a trail along her jaw and neck, goose bumps erupting in his wake.
“You’re even softer than I imagined,” he said against her skin. “So damn beautiful.”
Aimee sucked in a breath. She felt beautiful at this moment, pliant with desire. She’d spent so long thinking of herself as broken after her divorce, and even with desire stealing her thoughts, she still managed to recognize that this moment and this man were a revelation.
He knew the worst thing about her and wanted her anyway. Before she could truly process the ramifications of what it might mean, all of her doubts came crashing in around her. He wanted her physically. It couldn’t be anything more. He’d told her he wanted a family. She couldn’t give him that.
Yes, she could take the pleasure he was willing to offer—almost believed it would be worth it. The sharp ache that sliced across her chest told a different story. She cared about Paul. More than was smart for either of them.
Deep inside she knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with a fling. Despite understanding that she could never be a long-term possibility for a man like him, that was exactly what she wanted.
And exactly why she’d kept herself cut off from relationships.
She wanted too damn much.
He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his gaze intense on hers. “I had no right to—”
“We got caught up in the moment,” she told him, and stepped away, pressing herself to the corner of the elevator. “But it can’t go any further, Paul. I’m not...” Her voice trailed off.
“I know.” He reached out for the elevator’s keypad, and less than a minute later the doors opened to their floor.
He followed her into the empty hall. It made no sense how much she missed holding his hand. She’d known what this date was when they’d made their agreement. Stupid to want something more.
And now she had to share a hotel room with him. Oh, lord. Could it get any worse?
He placed his room key in front of the sensor and opened the door for her.
“Aimee.”
She turned. He still stood at the threshold.
“I’m going to head back down for a little while. I need...some space.”
“Okay,” she agreed, biting down on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more fun as a date.” She tried for a smile, but her facial muscles refused to cooperate.
“You’re perfect,” he said, his expression unreadable, then disappeared into the hall.