He frowned. “Your Kindle? Why, so you could ignore me all day and night? I could keep you entertained.” The teasing note was back, and she nearly slumped with relief. The onslaught of his full, sexual attention was too much to bear.
“Or, you could keep yourself entertained and I could read my Kindle.”
“Nice. Well, you can have your Kindle if I can have my beer. What good is a desert island if you can’t kick back in the sun and have a pint?”
“Okay, agreed. Now that I think about it, maybe the third thing should be more practical. How about sunblock?”
“My, you’re a smart lass.” He nodded and wrote down their answers, and she tried not to dwell on the flutter of pleasure that danced through her at his praise.
“Last one. If your house was on fire, what is the first item you would grab above all else?” she asked.
“My laptop,” Owen said. “I’ve everything on it, and it’d be a bitch to replace.”
Lindy shook her head. “Seriously? That’s…a thing. A hunk of metal.”
“What would you take?”
“My pictures. The photos of my mom and dad with me, Mal and Nate.”
Owen pursed his lips and nodded grudgingly. “You’re right. Scratch the laptop.” He wrote in their answer, and her heart felt a little lighter.
A moment later, Sarabeth called, “Okay, time’s up!”
“We’re not done yet,” Calvin Cedarhurst said.
Jordan chimed in behind him. “Us either.”
“It’s fine. Most couples don’t finish the first time. It’s really neat to see, at the end of the three weeks, how many of you will be able to complete your task in the allotted time. It’s a great way to measure progress. Did anyone complete all four answers?”
Lindy raised her hand. “We did.”
Sarabeth beamed at her. “Great start, O’Neils. You get the gold star for the day.”
She shot Owen a look and he shrugged. It was a sad state of affairs when the only non-couple at the resort had fared better than all of their married counterparts.
Sarabeth collected their sheets and filled them in on the next day’s activities. “Today we got to see you interact as couples. Tomorrow we’ll be doing some one-on-one work. Dress for comfort, active-wear preferably, and we’ll meet here at eight o’clock a.m. for your morning itineraries.”
Lindy stood and gathered her purse.
“I’ll be right back,” Owen said. His gaze was trained on Stephanopoulos sitting alone at the corner table.
“So what did you think?” Jordan asked, sidling up to Lindy while Owen made a beeline for Nico. “I thought it was interesting. Marty and I only had one more to do. We got the answer, but didn’t have time to write it down,” she said with a satisfied smirk.
Lindy wasn’t surprised. It was likely a much easier game when one person had all the right answers, but she gave the other woman an encouraging smile. “Great job.”
“Thanks. Hey, did you guys want to go to the bar for drinks tonight? Marty and I were thinking we’d have a nightcap before bed.”
“I’ll ask Owen, but I’m beat. The time change and all, it’s been a bear of a day.”
A large, warm hand covered her low on her back and she startled, whipping around. Owen stood there wearing a stiff smile. “Hey, honey, everything all right?”
Her heart slowed to a more normal rhythm. “Yes. Yes, everything’s fine. The Wa— ah, Jordan was asking if we wanted to have drinks with them.”
Owen shook his head, but pulled off a regretful expression beautifully. “I think we’re going to stay in and catch up on our rest. Another night though, yeah?”
Jordan narrowed her eyes at him but nodded. “That’s fine.”
“I’m going to say goodnight to Marty and Calvin and we can go,” Owen told Lindy.
Jordan stared at his retreating form before turning to face Lindy. “Why do you flinch whenever he touches you?” she asked, her hard eyes filling with concern. “That’s the second time I noticed that. He doesn’t…hit you, does he? I don’t want to pry, but if he hit you once, he’ll hit you again. If Marty hit me, he would rue the day.”
“It’s nothing like that. Owen would never put a hand on me in anger. It’s me. I’ve been feeling weird about intimacy lately,” she said off the top of her head, regretting that she had to go there. Owen was going to be pissed, but on the spur of the moment, in light of her inadvertent actions, she couldn’t think of anything better. “That’s part of the reason we came here. We’re going through a rough patch.”
“Did he cheat?” Jordan whispered.
Did he? She paused for a stretch, trying to figure out if that was a good direction to take things. It was better than saying he hadn’t been amorous toward her. She knew where that would end up getting her. On the business end of Owen’s full-court press.
“Yep. He’s extremely virile. I couldn’t keep up so he found a woman—actually, it was more like three—who could.”
Jordan’s eyes widened, and she clapped a hand to her chest in surprise. “That bastard!”
“It’s okay. We’re working through it. It’s taking a while, though. I still have a hard time knowing where his hands have been, if you know what I mean.” She wagged her eyebrows and Jordan wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“I guess so. You seem to be taking it really well. I’d kill Marty.”
“The first few months were the worst. Once I made the decision to stay, I realized I had to forgive him. Now it’s time to repair what was broken.”
Jordan gave her a dubious look, but Lindy must have sounded convincing because she let the topic go. They had moved on to discussing tomorrow’s activities when Owen came back.
“All set, love?”
“More than. I’m exhausted. Jordan, we’ll see you tomorrow?”
Jordan leaned in and pulled Lindy into a fierce hug, which Lindy returned reluctantly. When she released her, she gave Owen a frosty “Good night,” before returning to her husband.
“What the hell was that about?” he asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
Chapter Eight
“That was a disaster,” Lindy groaned, laying her purse onto the granite countertop of their suite’s kitchen. “I’m really sorry.”
She’d filled him in on her discussion with Jordan on the way back to the room. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about her latest fabrication. There were few things he hated more than a cheat, but she looked so miserable, he couldn’t bring himself to kick her while she was down.
“Don’t be dramatic. It wasn’t perfect, but certainly not a disaster. We’ve got to be better prepared next time. Sarabeth is bound by her position not to mention what we discuss with her, but Jordan isn’t. I’m thinking if anyone asks, since it’s out there now, the cheating story is the one to stick with from this point forward. It’s as good a cover as any. The important thing is that we’re consistent. If we can manage that, we shouldn’t have a problem.”
“The problem is me. I’m not quick on my feet when it comes to lying, and when I try, it’s like I have no control over what comes out.” She toed off one stiletto and rubbed her bare foot absently against her calf. Her feet were adorable, like the rest of her, and he was hit with the inane desire to press a kiss to her instep, maybe slide higher to her slim ankle, the back of her knees, the crease—
“Don’t you think?”
He shot his gaze up to meet hers and she stared at him expectantly. What had he missed?
She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously “Are you drunk or something?”
“I had one glass of wine.”
“Why are you acting so weird then?”
He wondered what she would say if he told her the truth. I was perfectly sane before I met you, but the need to lick you from head to toe is slowly driving me insane.
“It’s been a long day.”
“You’re telling me,” she said with a derisive snort. “I had the same day you did, but I did it all in t
wo different pairs of four-inch heels.” She slipped off her other shoe and groaned, kneading her coral-tipped toes into the thick carpet.
“Why don’t you let me rub your feet?” The offer was out before he could stop it, but the look on her face kept him from retracting it. Longing mixed with wariness, and the combination compelled him to convince her. “I dated a bird who waited tables back when I was younger, so I’m quite good at it. And maybe this is the kind of thing we need to be doing at any rate. You’re about to jump out of your skin every time I touch you. This will break the ice a bit, make us a little more comfortable with casual contact in public.”
She shook her head mournfully. “I know. It was bad tonight. I choked big time when you came up behind me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been half of a couple, and our—” she ticked off two-fingered air quotes “—courtship was such a whirlwind. I guess my body hasn’t caught up with my brain yet. When you’re single and someone gooses you from behind, your first reaction is ‘stranger danger!’ not ‘fake husband,’ you know?”
He didn’t, but he nodded anyway. “It’s all right. This is a couple’s retreat. We don’t need to look happy, but we do need to look comfortable with one another.”
She tossed her shoes into the corner and hobbled over to the couch. “Okay, I’m in. But could you try not to be…” She squinted her eyes and made an exaggerated, slow rubbing motion with her hands. “All sexy about it?”
He swallowed a grin and gave a solemn, three-fingered Scout’s Honor. “I shall endeavor to do exactly that. Although, being as virile as I am—” The air whooshed out of him on an oomph when the pillow she’d tossed hit him in the gut.
“And Jordan thought I was the abusive one? If she only knew.”
She chuckled, tucking herself into one corner of the couch while he took off his sports jacket and loosened his tie. He sat on the opposite end and patted his thigh. “Up you go.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, then released it and laid her foot on his lap. He did his best to ignore the toned thigh and shapely calf only inches away. Instead, he cupped her ankle in his hand giving it a casual caress before pressing both thumbs into her instep. She moaned and instantly stiffened, her gaze flying to his.
“Sorry about the sound effects. That feels so good, though.”
“It’s supposed to, and it’s okay to make appreciative noises. It lets me know I’m doing a good job.”
Her curious eyes widened. “Oh. Okay then. Mark never wanted me to make noise at, you know, anything.” She swallowed audibly and fidgeted with her wedding ring. “So I’m used to trying to keep it down.”
Owen didn’t try to hide his disdain. “I can’t say I know who Mark is, but he’s clearly a fuckwit.”
She laughed, that full out belly laugh that made him want to puff up his chest for being the cause of it.
“Mark is my ex. We dated for a couple years back in college.”
He had access to all this and obviously had no idea what to do with it, Owen thought, with an irrational surge of jealousy.
He didn’t comment further on Mark’s stupidity, instead resuming the massage, grinding the heel of his hand into the ball of her foot. This time the sound she made was more like a humming, deep in her throat. It went straight to his groin, and he shifted against the couch cushions, trying to make room for what was shaping up to be the erection of the century. He vowed that the second they were done he would hit the showers and take care of it himself. There would be no sleep tonight if he didn’t.
He watched her through eyes half-mast, and she finally seemed to be letting herself relax and enjoy. The tension drained from her body, leaving her soft and pliant. Part of him was glad, but the other part, the bigger part, where all the testosterone lived, didn’t want her relaxed at all. He wanted her to feel the way he did. On edge. Aroused. Wild.
“Switch feet.”
She did, lifting her head from the couch cushion to give him a sleepy smile.
“This is wonderful.”
“I’m glad.”
This time, he cupped her ankle in his hand, tracing the shape of her delicate bones with the very tips of his fingers. The tender skin was like satin and he found himself entranced, the need to bend low and explore it with his tongue so strong he very nearly groaned.
“Owen?” Lindy’s husky voice broke the spell.
He met her soft, wanting gaze and it took all his strength not to finish it. Oblige them both and slide his hands higher, make her scream until her throat was raw. Bare her to his mouth and tongue. Spread her legs wide enough to accommodate his hips, and thrust deep. But he didn’t.
“Yes?”
“N-nothing.”
Her breathing had gone shallow and through the pounding of the blood in his ears, he could have sworn he heard her whispered mantra, “Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine,” as she lay her head back on the pillow.
Only this time she was wrong. Everything was definitely not fine. He was as hard as a stone, and his partner in crime was obviously struggling with her own attraction to him. Which was all well and good, except she’d specifically asked him not to seduce her if he knew a relationship wasn’t in the cards. And suddenly the thought of using his experience to convince her made him feel oily. He liked this woman. She was the first truly good egg he’d met in a very long time, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Not to mention they had an important job to do. The decision made itself, really. Unless something changed, suffer he would.
As Lindy let out another sexy, kitten-like purr, he wondered if there was a nice, icy lake somewhere on the premises he could jump into.
…
Lindy tried to be quiet as Owen used his big, strong hands to work her weary flesh like a master sculptor, but she’d never felt something so sublime. She watched him through her lashes and acknowledged that his focus alone was an aphrodisiac. He was absorbed in his task. She imagined that type of single-mindedness was a huge asset in his business. It probably didn’t hurt with the ladies either. She could easily see how being the recipient of such undivided male attention, however fleeting, could get addictive. The last thing she needed was to get addicted to something in as short of supply as Owen Phipps. Hell, already she was a touch away from launching herself onto his lap and shamelessly grinding against his hard body. His fingers tripped lightly over her ankle again and she shivered before reluctantly pulling away.
“Thank you,” she said, wishing her voice was a little less breathy.
“My pleasure.” His own tone was even, but the tension in his face gave him away. He wanted her, and she had no doubt that he would lavish the rest of her with the same attention he’d given her feet. All she had to do was say the word.
She stood while she still had the fortitude to do so and smoothed her dress around her hips. With a guilty glance at the smallish couch, she worked up her courage. They were both adults. Surely they could manage if… “I know you offered to sleep on the sofa, but there’s no way you’ll fit comfortably. The bed is huge. Even if there were four of us side by side, we’d never have to touch.”
He didn’t respond, his hooded gaze following her fidgety hands.
His silent regard was too much to bear and she rushed on. “If you’re worried about your virtue we can even lay put some pillows down the center to make a barrier.”
He grinned then and affable Owen was nowhere to be found. “It’s the couch for me,” he said, a note of finality in his voice. He stood and padded across the room, stopping in the doorway to face her. “The way things are between us right now, a row of pillows wouldn’t cut it. In fact, if you keep looking at me that way, I can’t promise the wall between us is going to hold all night. I’m going to take a shower. It’s probably best if you’re in bed when I get out.”
The second the door closed behind him she flopped backward onto the couch cushions with a groan. Twenty days of this to go. She’d never make it. The second she’d looked through that peephole and s
een him standing there, heard that delicious accent, she should have engaged the deadbolt and run like hell. Melba was right. He was similar to James Bond, only hotter, and he was attracted to her. She had to stay strong, but for the life of her couldn’t get a grasp on how to do that. She was only human, after all.
The shower flipped on, interrupting her thoughts. Owen was right about one thing. It would be safer if she were hunkered down in bed before he got out. She pushed herself to her now-painless feet and made her way into the bedroom. She stripped off her fancy new duds, hanging them carefully before pulling on her well-worn Charlie Brown nightshirt. Eyeing the massive bed, she willed away the image of a naked Owen sprawled across it. Maybe she’d bite the bullet and break her own steadfast rule by leaving the blankets tucked in around her legs. The coffin-like prison might keep her from leaping off the bed and running him down to jump his bones.
She closed her eyes and swallowed a groan.
Oh yeah, it was going to be a long few weeks.
Chapter Nine
Owen awoke the next morning stiff from head to toe. And some areas were stiffer than others, he acknowledged ruefully, sparing a glance at the sheet tenting his thighs. Even after going it solo in the shower the night before, it had been a fitful sleep filled with dreams of intertwined legs, dueling tongues, and soft breasts. The cries he’d wrung out of her in his dreams, God, what man would tell a woman like her to be quiet? Not him. On the contrary, he’d make her scream until she shattered glass, that’s what he’d do.
He eyed the ceiling. This cherub-faced woman was going to be the death of him. He sat up and leaned forward, stretching his tight back muscles.
“I told you it was too small for you.”
Lindy stood in the doorway of the bedroom dressed in stretchy black yoga pants and a turquoise sports bra. The golden expanse of her flat stomach made him glad he was hunched over. Unfortunately, now he had to stay that way or risk an awkward introduction between her and Mr. Wood.
“It was a little tight. I’ll get used to it.”
“No you won’t. Tonight you’ll sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off at the pass. “That bed is way too big for me anyway. I kept dreaming I was on the Titanic, and it was about to hit an iceberg. The sofa is plenty big enough for me, so don’t argue.”
He considered her logic and decided that it was easier to give in for the time being. If she was as sore as he was the next day, they’d fight it out. The irony of arguing with a woman for putting his comfort before hers wasn’t lost on him. Since he’d made his first million, it seemed as if every companion he’d had was in a race to see exactly how much she could get from him. Lindy truly was a breath of fresh air in so many ways.
“Today starts off with a ‘me time’ activity, so I’m going to head down, get some yogurt, and see what’s on tap. Do you want me to wait for you?”
“No, you go ahead. I have a couple calls to make and then I’ll be down. I wanted to contact Gavin and give him some of the names of the other couples and see if anything pops.”
“Won’t he ask why you want to know?”
“No. He runs checks on business contacts for me all the time. He wouldn’t have much of a business if he grilled his clients every time they called. He knows if I want him to have the details, I’d give them to him.”
“I see, Your Excellency.”
He raised his brows and grinned. “I approve. If you want to call me that from now on, I won’t object.”
“Bah! Not likely.” She crossed the room to the door, passing by his seat on the couch, giving him a glimpse of the most pert, spectacular ass this side of the pond.
“I’ll see you later on.” She closed the door behind her as he waved to no one.
Blowing out a sigh, he stood gingerly and took stock. His lower back groaned in protest, but it beat the shape he’d be in if he’d spent the night next to Lindy. He went into the bedroom, stripped down, and then donned a pair of track pants and a hoody. Grabbing his cell off the coffee table, he headed for the bathroom. He brushed his teeth while quickly scanning his messages. Mostly business, but two of his texts were from Cara.
Howz Houston? Close that deal yet?
And,
It’s Aunt Lena’s birthday 2day, so if she calls & thanks u for the flowers, say ur welcome, and u know how orchids r her favorite. Don’t worry, I charged ’em 2 ur account. Luv ya bro.
He whipped off a response, tamping down the nagging tug of guilt. It was bad
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