Just the mention made his shoulder throb, and he rolled it back against the pillows. “Yeah.”
She pursed her lips, waiting, he knew, for more. When he didn’t elaborate, she said, “How did you have time to ski?”
Brian’s hand froze, mug halfway to his mouth. Shit, he’d told her he was a professional skier, hadn’t he? His mind spun. “Just comes naturally, I guess.” He glanced down at his coffee, desperate to change the subject. “You put Baileys in this. Where did you get it?”
“On the plane on the way out here. I tossed the little bottle in my purse on the flight. Irish cream is one of the few alcohols I do like.”
He lifted his mug to his lips. “You aren’t trying to get me drunk, are you?”
“Well…” Her hesitant word drew his gaze, and he caught the sheepish expression crossing her features. “That depends. Are you a mean drunk?”
His eyes narrowed, and he lowered his coffee. He’d meant the comment as a joke, but he could tell now she was up to something. He just didn’t know what. From the moment he’d met her, she’d been throwing him for a loop. “What’s going on?”
She shifted to her knees, leaned back on her heels, and rested her hands on her thighs. His black shirt fell open at her chest, drawing his attention to her gorgeous breasts. “Okay, I have something to tell you, but I don’t want you to get mad.”
His stomach tightened, and the words oh shit echoed in his head. Ryder hadn’t told him everything, the dickhead. “If this is the point where you tell me you’re married—”
“No.” A relieved laugh slipped past her lips. “No, I’m definitely not married. It’s nothing like that.”
A whisper of relief passed through him. Then his mind sharpened on her brother—and his boss—and he stiffened, wondering if she’d talked to him this morning. “If it’s not that, then—”
“I don’t write back-cover copy for books,” she blurted out. “In fact, I don’t even read as much as I like, because I just don’t have the time. I”—her nose wrinkled in an adorable little way—“write songs.”
“You do,” he said slowly. She was fessing up. All on her own. Part of him was thrilled, because he really liked her. But another part—the guilty part—knew this meant he’d need to go sooner rather than later.
She nodded and drew in a deep breath. “I know I shouldn’t have lied to you last night, but I thought there was no harm in it, since this was just a one-night thing and because I live in Tennessee and you live here and we’re never going to see each other again. But then last night I couldn’t sleep, so I got up, and when I was standing in the living room watching the snow and thinking about you, all these notes just hit me out of nowhere. That’s never happened to me. I mean”—she lifted her hands outward—“it was like bam, totally in my face. I haven’t been able to write for weeks, not with all the stuff happening back home, but last night, it was like someone turned on a faucet. I’ve been working furiously since, and when I finished, I was so excited, I just wanted to tell you what I’d done. But then I realized I couldn’t because of that silly lie. Holly said to just kick you out and celebrate—actually, she said to fuck you again and then kick you out—but that’s not me, and as much as I really want to have sex with you again right now, what I want more is to tell you and thank you for inspiring me. I don’t know that I would have finished this contract without you.”
She dropped her hands to her thighs and stared at him with expectant eyes. And in the silence, Brian sat stunned, trying to process her ramblings. She’d opened a door—hinted at something bad happening at home—and he knew he should take it. Knew he should feel her out and see if there really was some kind of threat he’d missed because he’d been so hot for the woman since she’d hit on him in that bar, but the humming in his brain wouldn’t let him focus on what he needed to do. It was steering him toward the other important elements he’d picked up from her words. The ones that were centered on him.
“I inspired you? How?”
Excitement lit her dark eyes, brightening her face, making her look like a kid in a candy store. “You gave me the words for the last two songs I needed to write. See, Royalty Records offered me a contract to write twelve new songs, which they’re going to push to their biggest recording artists. For a songwriter, this is a huge break. Only, I’ve been totally struggling with the last few. Until this morning, that is.”
Brian’s skin grew hot, and though he knew he shouldn’t ask, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Can I hear one?”
Grace bit her lip, and, man, he loved the nervous way her gaze darted around and how her fingers curled into fists against her bare thighs.
“Okay, but you have to remember it’s rough.” She looked back at him, and the excitement brimming in her eyes warmed his insides in a way he didn’t expect. “I haven’t totally fleshed it all out. I don’t have the right instruments, so it won’t sound the way I hear it in my head yet.”
“Okay.”
She darted off the bed and disappeared into the other room, and while he waited, Brian shifted back in the pillows, realizing…his hands were sweating.
She came back into the room with her guitar and sat on the edge of the bed. “I never play for anyone until a song’s done, so if you hate it…just don’t tell me.” She strummed the first few notes, then held her hand over the strings. “I want this to start with soft piano chords that grow intensity. Strings will come in later.”
Anticipation gathered in his belly while her fingers moved against the instrument. Soft notes filled the room, curling around him like a caress. All other sound died off as she strummed the first few bars, and Brian felt his body relaxing, felt the music filling the air, felt her passion for what she had written flow from her into the guitar.
She was good with the instrument—better than he’d expected. Then she opened her mouth and started to sing.
Her voice… Holy God… Her voice was beautiful—smoky, seductive, unguarded in a way she hadn’t been, even with him. And the lyrics she’d written, about holding on to new experiences, about growing and changing, about finding something you were never even looking for, they were urgent, honest, and filled with a multitude of layers he was pretty sure he could never reach even if he spent a lifetime looking.
By the time she strummed the last note and her sexy voice faded in the air, Brian’s entire body was tight and vibrating.
“Well?” she asked, looking his way with nervous eyes. “Do you hate it?”
Slowly, because his hands were shaking, Brian set his coffee on the nightstand next to him. “You wrote a song about me?”
“No.” Her cheeks turned pink, and she lowered the guitar to the floor near her feet, her fingers curling around the instrument again in that nervous clench and release she did often. “Yes. Well, sort of. It’s not about you, per se, it’s more about…how you made me feel.”
He made plenty of people nervous just being in the line of work he was in, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a woman nervous simply because of the way he made her feel. Was pretty sure, in fact, that he hadn’t made a woman feel anything deeper than physical in a very long time.
“Come here.” His voice was thick. The words raspy. He held out his hand, needing to touch her.
Grace pushed from the bed, leaned the guitar against the wall, then carefully slid her hand over his. “It still needs some work. I want to bring in acoustics and have it all build to a crescendo in the second half. Then I want—”
Brian tugged her down so she was sitting on his lap. The motion knocked her off balance, and she sucked in a surprised breath as he wrapped an arm around her to hold her up, then rested her hand against his bare chest.
His skin felt three sizes too small, his body hot and not his own, and when she touched him… God, it was the best feeling in the world. All those thoughts about getting up out of this bed and walking out of her life without an explanation disappeared into the ether, just like the notes of her song. “I’ve nev
er been anyone’s inspiration before, let alone for something as beautiful as that. You are absolutely amazing.”
A wide smile broke across her face. “Does this mean you’re not mad that I lied to you?”
“I’m not mad. How could I be mad after that?”
“Oh, good. Then hopefully you won’t be mad at this either.” She glanced at her hands with that nervous, wary expression once more. The one that supercharged his blood and made him feel like he was fifteen again. “My name’s not Samara.”
Amusement trickled through him. “I know.”
Surprised eyes darted up to his. “You do?”
“You don’t look like the winged fruit of any maple tree.”
That smile came back full force. “I don’t?”
He shook his head.
“My name’s Grace. Grace Ryder.”
“And I’m Brian Walker.” An operative for Aegis Security, sent here by your brother to watch out for you, even though you told him you didn’t want any kind of security messing up your life. And when you find out I’ve been spying on you all this time and that I lied to you about who I was, I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna want to have a thing to do with me. And that’s gonna hurt a hell of a lot worse than losing my job.
“Brian Walker, huh?” Her sexy smile widened. “I like that.”
And he liked how she said his name. Wanted to keep hearing her say it, and knew he couldn’t.
Her brow dropped low, and her fingers slid along his jaw, making his skin tingle and his need for her rocket right back to the forefront. “Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” He tightened his arm around her, dragging her closer to his body, needing to touch her, to taste her, to lose himself in her one more time before he killed things between them for good and told her the truth. Somehow, in less than twenty-four hours, this unpredictable, vivacious, electrifying woman had tipped his entire world completely upside down. And he had a feeling he wasn’t ever going to be the same. “Everything’s fine. Just kiss me again, Grace. Kiss me before you don’t want to anymore.”
Her fingers spread against his jaw, and she leaned in close, her body warming his from the outside in. “That won’t be an issue. Because I’m crazy about these lips.”
And he was crazy about her. A fact he couldn’t change, and one he now knew was going to ruin everything.
CHAPTER FIVE
Something felt off.
Grace hated that she was being so self-conscious. She didn’t know Brian well enough to decipher his different moods, and she definitely didn’t have the right to ask what was bothering him. But she’d always been able to read people pretty well, and her instincts were screaming there was something going on.
After kissing her crazy—a make-out session she’d hoped would lead to more but hadn’t—they’d dressed, then gotten a bite to eat at the coffee bar. He’d been quiet and withdrawn all through breakfast, and more than once, Grace had sensed he was on the verge of telling her something, but he never did. She knew logically their night was over and that she should just let him go wherever he was headed next, but she wasn’t ready to say good-bye. It had taken some cajoling on her part, but she’d finally gotten him to agree to go skiing with her today. And for the most part, as they’d swooshed through the new powder and chased each other down the hill, he’d seem to be enjoying himself. Until that dark look would pass over his eyes again. The one she’d seen several times since she’d sung him her song.
Doubt pressed in. A doubt that told her the music wasn’t as good as she thought. That she’d freaked him out by telling him he’d inspired her. That something that was too good to be true usually was.
She stared off into the distance, taking in the view of the snowy mountains, and told herself she was being silly. This wasn’t a relationship, it was just fun. And she needed to remember that. As she stood on the side of the run, staring out at the view, Brian skied up next to her and cut his skis in the powder, sending snow all over her.
“Oh my God.” Grace shrieked. “You did that on purpose!”
His boyish laugh warmed her blood and pushed aside the doubt. “You were way too deep in thought there.”
“I’ll show you deep in something.” Grace let go of her poles and launched herself at him.
Her boots, trapped in her bindings, prevented her from getting a good push off, and she fell more than threw herself into him. But it was enough to knock him off balance, and he landed on his side in a puff of white.
His laughter echoed around her—a laughter she loved because it meant he was enjoying himself, not brooding about something he wouldn’t tell her—and his arms wrapped around her. He rolled her over, and she found herself trapped. One leg hanging over his hip, her skis tangled with his in the snow, and his muscular body blocking out everything else—the view, the snow, the other skiers on the hill—everything but him.
“You shouldn’t have thrown snow on me up there at the top of the hill,” he said. “Or ducked behind that couple to get away from me. I almost took them out.”
His gloved fingers pressed into Grace’s side, and she laughed and tried to move away from the pressure, but all her wiggling did was force her legs and hips into closer contact with his.
Tingles permeated her skin, even through the thick fabric of the snow pants. Tingles she liked way too much and couldn’t give in to out here in the middle of the run. “Okay, I give. I give!”
He stopped his relentless tickling and leaned over her. “We’re not even. I still owe you for cutting in front of me on the last run and making me crash into that snow bank.”
“Oh, come on. You look adorable in white.”
He scowled down at her and reached for a handful of snow. “You do too.”
Yelping, Grace scooted closer, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled herself up so she was plastered to his chest. “Stop! Stop. I’ll make it up to you in other ways. How about that?”
His hand was still clutching the snow, but his other arm slid under her torso to hold her close. “Depends on what you have in mind.”
Grace lifted her mouth to his jaw and pressed her lips against his cool, scruffy cheek. Why was it so damn sexy when men didn’t shave? “Well.” She moved her lips a fraction of an inch. Kissed another spot. “If you don’t have plans tonight, you could come back to my room and we could open a bottle of wine.”
“You don’t particularly like alcohol.”
He’d figured that out, huh? Grace’s lips turned up in a grin. She kissed another delectable spot. “Okay, then, we’ll have diet root beer.”
“I hate to tell you this, honey, but that’s not overly enticing.”
“Naked.”
He drew back from her and stared down into her eyes, and Grace saw that look again. That dark, brooding look that told her there was something going on with him. Something she might not want to know.
“Grace, I need to tell you something.”
Her stomach tightened. “This isn’t the part where you confess you have a wife, is it?”
“No.” A strange look passed over his face. “Not a current one, at least.”
“You’re married?” Grace asked, pushing away and sitting up on her own.
He let go of her and frowned. “Divorced.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to say. A lot of people got married and divorced. It definitely shouldn’t bother her. But she couldn’t stop wondering what kind of woman he would marry.
“She was young,” he said. “Really young. And it didn’t last long. Which is why I don’t get involved with women in their twenties.”
Grace glanced at all the snow around them. Then her gaze shot back to his. “That’s why you were asking me how old I was last night.” When he nodded, she couldn’t stop herself. “What happened?”
He yanked off his glove and scratched the back of his head just under the edge of his knit cap as if he didn’t want to tell her. “I was already in the military when we got married. We met through a fr
iend, and I knew she was quite a bit younger, but I thought she could handle the whole wife-of-a-soldier thing. I got shipped out to Afghanistan only a few weeks after the wedding. She didn’t adjust to the separation so well. Used to send me these long e-mails about how lonely she was. Anyway, I’d been there about six months when we had this really intense mission. After it was over, my CO gave us all an unscheduled two-week furlough. I didn’t tell her. Thought I’d surprise her instead. And I did. Surprised all of us, actually.”
“What do you mean by ‘all’?”
“I mean, I caught her with my ex-best friend.”
“Oh. Ouch.” Grace cringed. And that would be why he didn’t date younger women. Because to him they were all as immature as his young wife.
“Yeah, well.” He turned to look at her. “You’re not like her. I know that. I just have…issues.”
Any guy would after that.
Grace drew in a courageous breath. “The last guy I dated had a history of indecent exposure. I didn’t know about it until after I broke up with him, when the cops came to question me about a case where he’d exposed himself to some poor, unsuspecting teenager. You’re not the only one with issues.”
One side of his lips turned up, and he rubbed his eyebrow. “That’s…pretty sad, I’ll give you that. But I can top it. When I walked in on my wife and my ex-friend, they weren’t just having sex. She was tied up in ropes and handcuffs and hanging from the ceiling. I thought she was being tortured. They had to explain to me what was going on. I didn’t even know she was into that BDSM shit.”
Grace barked out a laugh and covered her mouth with her gloved hand. “Oh, you win. That’s terrible.”
His smile widened, and a space around her heart contracted at the sparkle she saw in his crazy-blue eyes. His brow dropped, but that glint of amusement lingered. “You’re not into that, are you?”
“What…bondage?”
He nodded.
Grace’s stomach tightened again. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it. You’re the one who was teasing last night about whips-and-chains romances. Have you?”
Aegis Security 02 - Sinful Surrender Page 5