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Hanging in a bathroom closet were several of those white terry-cloth robes, like the one she wore. He grabbed one and threw it on to cover his naked body, then opened the door. “Uh, do you think there’s a medicine cabinet or something around here?”
She stood right outside the door, obviously finished with her phone call. “Yes, there is, in the linen closet. Why?”
“I think I need to bandage this.”
When she saw the blood dripping down his face, she gasped and ordered him into the bathroom. “Sit!” she said, pushing him toward a vanity stool.
“I can take care of it, if you could help me find the bandages.”
“Good grief, why didn’t you tell me? Looks like the chair hit you right above the temple and broke the skin.”
“I didn’t realize it was bleeding.”
She stepped closer, leaning down to push his hair back and look at his scalp. He closed his eyes as she nudged his legs apart with her own and moved to stand between them. When she leaned closer, so close he could see a tiny freckle on the top curve of one creamy breast, he couldn’t contain a groan.
“Am I hurting you?”
You’re killing me!
“Not a bit.”
“Can I touch it? I promise to be gentle.”
Touch it? Lady, just shoot me and put me out of my misery.
“I trust you.” He bit the words out.
She took a wet facecloth and brushed it over his cut.
“Ow,” he said with a wince.
“Baby,” she teased. “It’s tiny.”
“It hurts.”
“Big tough man.” She looked down, obviously to make sure he was kidding and she hadn’t really hurt him.
Nate couldn’t resist. “I think a kiss would make it better.”
“Sorry, I’m not kissing your bloody head.”
“I’ll settle for a kiss somewhere else,” he said with a chuckle.
“Somewhere else? Okay. Constitution Hall,” she said dryly. “Five years from Sunday.”
“It’s a date.”
Nate waited patiently while she carefully cleaned his cut, then covered it with some ointment. Every brush of her fingers heightened his awareness. Every time she moved, his senses roared to life. Her scent filled his brain. He memorized the shape of her neck, the curve of her collarbone.
While she helped him, they talked about the party, about the publishing industry, about silly things like thong underwear and swimming with clothes on. He adored the sound of her laughter and used every bit of willpower he had to resist pulling her onto his lap to thoroughly kiss her smiling lips.
At one point, she leaned over and grabbed a small pair of scissors out of the medicine chest on the counter, not noticing, perhaps, that her robe slipped off one shoulder. Nate’s heart rate kicked up. He took a deep breath, wanting to reach out and touch her skin with the tip of his index finger. Only that. Just to see if she felt as soft as she looked.
When she turned her attention to him, she obviously saw his interest. She flushed, her face turning a charming pink. Then she casually tugged the robe up and cinched the belt tighter.
“So, you never told me why you felt the need to hide out from J.T.’s party,” Nate said, trying to break the heavy, charged silence in the bathroom.
She shrugged. “I guess I felt the same way you did. Superficial people. All ambitious. All on the prowl.”
She fell silent, and Nate noticed her hand shaking as she bandaged his cut with some gauze and medical tape. “You okay?”
“I’m wondering how long I can be gone without attracting attention. My friend is going to go to my apartment to get me something else to wear. I can’t just disappear.”
“Right. It’s complicated,” he said, remembering her earlier comment.
“Exactly.”
“Complicated for you? Or for someone else?”
She stepped away from him, from between his legs, and busied herself putting away the medical supplies. “Several someone elses, as a matter of fact,” she admitted.
Nate heard a quiver in her voice and noticed her eyes were shiny and bright. “Hey, are you okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t. It’s not you. It’s tonight, this party.” She paused. “J.T.”
Nate snorted. “You know the old reprobate personally, do you?”
She paused, her eyes widening with surprise. “You know him too?”
Nate shrugged. “As much as I want to. Has he been bothering you? Is that what’s going on?”
A rueful smile spread across her face. “He’s bothered me. Not in the way you think.” Then she shook her head and turned to put away the medicine kit. She took her time about it, peering intently at something on the shelf of the linen closet with her back to him. Nate saw her take something off the shelf and slip it into the oversize pocket of her robe before she closed the closet door.
When she turned, her eyes were bright and sparkling. She bit the corner of her lip, suddenly looking both mischievous and nervous. Nate considered asking her if she’d just stolen something from J.T. Birmingham’s bathroom, wondering if the superrich used some exotic type of toothpaste, but she distracted him by pointing to his robe.
“So is someone bringing you some clothes?”
“No,” Nate admitted as he stood and followed her out of the bathroom. Some of the forced intimacy caused by their close proximity in the bathroom evaporated in the cavernous gym area. “I planned to run home to my apartment to change. Unfortunately, while I was undressing I realized my keys are no longer in the pocket of my wet pants. I imagine they’re somewhere at the bottom of the pool, meaning I take another swim or I come up with another way to get some clothes.”
“Could you get someone to go by your place and pick something up for you?”
“Yeah, I probably could. My neighbor keeps a spare key for me, so I could call and ask him to let someone in,” he replied. “In the meantime, I guess we both hide out here.” He walked to the trampoline and leaned against its edge. “So have you got all the jumping out of your system?”
“I think so.”
“It looked like fun,” he said, trying to tempt her.
“Help yourself,” she said. “I promise not to peek at your underwear.”
He contemplated telling her he wasn’t wearing any, but didn’t think it wise.
“So, why do you dislike J.T.?” she asked as she walked over and sat on the bench of a weight-lifting machine.
Since there was nowhere else to sit unless they moved to the pool area, Nate went ahead and hopped onto the edge of the trampoline, sitting on the padded springs. “I don’t dislike him. He’s a heck of a businessman. But I see him for what he is.”
“That being?”
“I don’t know. What do you call a man in his sixties whose new fourth wife is less than half his age? Plus he still manages to hit on any attractive single woman he meets.” Nate sighed in disgust. “My sister came in to the office to visit last month. She was holding her one-year-old baby, and J.T. still flirted with her nonstop.”
“Some women find him charming.”
He snorted. “Maybe his bank account. Believe me, if I had his money, there are plenty of things I’d do with it other than invest it in future alimony payments.”
“Like?”
“I dunno. Feed the hungry? Help inner-city moms pay for day care?”
“How politically correct,” she said, her dry tone displaying her skepticism.
He took no offense. She didn’t know him, after all. Why should she believe he had any interest in social issues? “Okay, then I guess I’d buy a private island.”
She grinned, stood and walked over to stand beside the trampoline. “Can I join you?”
“On my island?” He gave her a playful smile and gestured to the black fabric surface. “Please do.”
He held out a hand to help her climb up. Forcing himself to look away, he deliberately tried not to notice when her robe gapped open again, displaying several long inches of pale, smooth thigh.
“And what would you do on this island?” she asked.
He slid back, pulling her with him until they both sat on the surface of the trampoline. Stretching out to lie on his back, he put his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. “I’d ban cocktail parties.”
“Good start,” she conceded as she stretched out to lie beside him. “What else would you ban in your kingdom?”
“Bow ties. Tuxedos.”
“I think tuxedos are very sexy,” she murmured.
Nate glanced over to find her staring innocently at the ceiling, as if she hadn’t just said something blatantly flirtatious. Or perhaps she hadn’t. Maybe he’d misread her.
He hoped not.
“Can you ban control-top panty hose, too? And size-one cover models who make the rest of us look fat?”
“You got it. And self-help books. No Mars and Venus crap allowed in the libraries on my island.”
“You don’t care for relationship books?”
He turned to look at her, waiting until she met his eye to answer. “The right couple involved in the right relationship has no need for books. When it’s there, when it’s real, you know it. And if it isn’t, no book is going to make it work.”
She held his stare, her eyes wide, glittering in the low lighting of the room. “Is it there for you? Have you found your perfect partner?”
Nate was unable to resist the slow smile that curled across his lips. He reached over, tucking a nearly dry blond curl behind her ear. “Ask me tomorrow,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened as she caught his meaning.
He knew it was crazy, given their brief relationship, but something was happening between them. They were in sync. They spoke with the same rhythm, laughed with the same sense of natural joy…looked at each other with the same sense of intrigue.
It was more than physical, more than titillating or exciting, more than a delightful interlude.
“Something’s happening here, isn’t it? Something amazing.” He didn’t move toward her, letting his words and his voice be the only indicators of the depth of his interest in her. The next move was hers.
She made it. When her eyes narrowed slightly, zoning in on his mouth, he knew she wanted to kiss him. She leaned closer, tentatively, and he didn’t move, knowing somehow that she had to do this, had to be the initiator.
Then, with a soft sigh, she brushed her lips against his. Focusing all his thoughts on the sensation, he remained still, letting himself be kissed by this woman whose name he didn’t yet know. Letting her move closer, move over him, cup one side of his face with her soft, cool palm.
She tilted her head, parted her lips slightly. When her tongue slid out tentatively to taste him, Nate’s restraint began to skid away. He groaned and finally moved his arms to pull her on top of him.
The kiss deepened. Emboldened by his response, she increased the tempo, driving him crazy with each caress, each stroke of her sweet, wet tongue. He met her every move, anticipated and joined her when she turned her head for deeper access. Somehow, some way, she slid off him, falling to her back on the bouncy surface of the trampoline, pulling him over her. Or perhaps he pushed her. He didn’t know. Thought was gone, replaced entirely by sensation.
Nate waited for the voice in his head to tell him to stop, to insist it was insane to be making out with a woman he’d known an hour. But he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way she tasted—like sweet, intoxicating wine. The way she smelled—of roses and springtime. The way she made him feel—on fire and nearly out of control.
The gentle give-and-take of their bodies moving together on the springy surface filled his mind with images of making love to her. Right here. Right now. While a party continued in another part of the house, while his boss looked for him and his tuxedo lay wet on the bathroom floor. All he wanted was to toss away their robes and roll over her, onto her, into her, on this little fabric island. To see if this sense of rightness between them extended to the physical as well as the emotional.
It would. He knew it would. Knew it the way he knew the roads leading to his family home, the way he knew the right words to use in a story, the way he knew his own nature.
This beautiful blond stranger with the laughing eyes and the smiling lips could be the person he’d waited for all his life. He knew.
“Can something like this really happen?” she asked when he moved his mouth from hers to press kiss after kiss on her jaw, her earlobe, the long column of her throat. Her voice held longing. Desire. Wonder.
“It can,” he whispered as he moved lower to kiss her shoulder. “It is.”
Then he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the feel of her body, smooth, pale and ripe beneath the terry-cloth robe. He inhaled her sweet flowery scent, knowing it had imprinted itself on his brain and he’d never be able to sit in a rose garden without thinking of her for as long as he lived.
A little hitch of a moan emerged from the back of her throat when he slipped his hand under the robe to find the curve of her breast. She arched into him, offering herself, crying out her pleasure as he teased her pebbled flesh with his fingers.
Somehow their robes slipped open until they hung from their shoulders. Not shrugged off, but covering nothing. Skin met skin. The hair on his chest rubbed her pert nipples, seducing him further. Unable to resist, he bent over to nibble gently on the curve of her flesh before taking the taut tip into his mouth. She cried out, buried her hands in his hair and leaned toward him.
Her thighs parted slightly, and Nate groaned as he became aware of a deeper scent, an earthier essence of their combined arousal. His body responded, instinctively driving toward her, pressing against her, silently asking her in an age-old dance of desire, Will you?
Her eyes opened lazily, her breath growing choppy as she slid her legs apart, welcoming him, giving him her answer. Yes.
It made no sense. They were strangers. They were in someone else’s house. But Nate knew if he didn’t take this miraculously sensuous gift he would wonder what if for the rest of his life.
As if sensing his thoughts, she said, “I know. We’ll wonder later how this happened. Not now. Now I want your hands on me.”
Nate was happy to oblige. He ran the flat of his palm down her body from her throat, over the full curves of her breast, down her soft, flat belly. Lower. When he slipped his fingers between her legs he found her slick and wet. She shivered and let out a moan, which Nate echoed. “You’re sure?” he asked huskily, giving her one more out, though it nearly killed him to think of not finishing what they’d started.
Instead of answering, she reached into her robe, which lay open beneath her. When she retrieved something from the pocket and held it up to show him, Nate smiled.
