by Gina Wilkins
“Those other times were for business. This is different.”
“We’re simply attending the symphony together, not slipping away for a weekend in Vegas.”
He grinned. “Actually, that Vegas thing sounds pretty good. We could be at the airport in forty-five minutes.”
She slanted him a look. “I doubt your baby-sitter would appreciate that.”
“You’re probably right. So how about if we slipped off to Disney World, instead? We can take Isabelle.”
“How about if we just attend the sympathy, I mean, the symphony,” she corrected herself quickly.
He chuckled. “Careful. The poppet wears off on you.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She settled back into her seat and ordered herself to relax for the remainder of the evening. After all, she told herself sternly, this was merely a date. And he was only Nathan, a man she had known quite comfortably for almost a year now.
So why wasn’t she at all comfortable with him tonight?
Chapter Twelve
The concert hall was crowded, and there were many people in attendance Caitlin and Nathan knew. No one seemed particularly surprised to see them there together. Was it simply assumed they were there as friends and business partners, or did most people already consider them a couple?
Caitlin couldn’t help wondering what was being said about them, but she decided not to dwell on it tonight. It certainly wasn’t as if she had any control over local gossip.
She did notice as they swapped greetings on their way to their seats that no one mentioned Isabelle. Or Nathan’s mother. But maybe that was just as well, she thought, taking her seat and preparing to enjoy the performance.
Of course, it was hard to concentrate on the music when she was so very aware of the man sitting in the seat beside her. His shoulder brushed against hers, and when he shifted his long legs in the narrow space provided for them, their thighs made contact.
She felt ridiculously like a schoolgirl on her first date, so painfully self-conscious that her mouth was dry. When his hand slipped over the shared arm of their chairs to entwine with hers in the darkness, she completely forgot the theme of the program.
Mozart or Mendelssohn? Bach or the Beatles? She wasn’t sure she could have said just then.
How could she have imagined there were so many erogenous zones in her hand? She had never suspected, for example, that the skin between her fingers was so sensitive. And when his thumb rotated slowly in the center of her palm, she felt heat rush through her, pooling somewhere deep inside her abdomen. She kept her eyes focused fiercely on the stage, though she no longer cared who was doing what there.
She made it through intermission by plastering a smile on her face and nodding brightly in response to everything that was said to her, though she wasn’t sure she actually heard a word of it. She was, however, all too keenly conscious of every time Nathan rested a hand at the center of her back or touched her arm or smiled at her.
Her emotions had swung from bemused to despairing. This was not the way she preferred to behave in public! Here she had an excellent opportunity to mingle, to discreetly drop the name of their firm into casual conversations, to make potentially important business connections, and what was she doing? Blushing and daydreaming like a silly schoolgirl. Acting more like a woman in the throes of her first big infatuation than an intelligent, L.A.-quality attorney.
Even that fleeting thought of Los Angeles made her swallow hard. She really should tell Nathan about Tom’s letter. Just as important, she really should give Tom a more definitive response than the vague interest she had expressed thus far.
Nathan held her hand again during the second part of the program. Such a simple little gesture, almost innocently sweet. Yet there was nothing at all innocent about her reaction. She wanted to climb all over him.
They were rather quiet again during the drive back to Nathan’s house. It was getting late, and she could have used the excuse that she was tired, but she wasn’t. She was more wired than she’d been in a long time.
“Come in for a little while,” Nathan said when he’d parked in his garage. “We’ll have coffee or something.”
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure I—”
“Please.”
She moistened her lips. “All right.”
It was well after 10:00 p.m., so Isabelle was sleeping. Mrs. T. sat at the kitchen table reading. She looked up with a smile when they walked in. “Did you enjoy the performance?”
“It was very nice,” Caitlin replied, fervently hoping she wouldn’t be expected to give any details.
The housekeeper closed her book and stood. “I’ll be on my way now. Isabelle was an angel, as always. A bit quieter than usual, I thought, especially as the night wore on, but I suppose that’s because she’s grown accustomed to having you here with her in the evenings, Mr. McCloud. She’s sleeping now. I just looked in on her. And I made a fresh pot of coffee—decaf, of course, since it’s so late. I thought you and Ms. Briley might like to have a cup while you talk about your evening.”
Nathan smiled warmly. “Have I mentioned that you’re a treasure?”
Her eyebrows lifted in what appeared to be surprise that he felt it necessary to state the obvious. “I’ll see you Monday morning, Mr. McCloud. Nice to see you again, Ms. Briley.”
With a faint ripple of panic, Caitlin watched the forceful, prosaic housekeeper leave. With the exception of the toddler sleeping in the other room, she and Nathan were alone now with the feelings that had been simmering between them all evening, steadily reaching boiling point.
Though his gaze was on her face, as if reading the emotions reflected there, Nathan moved toward the counter and spoke casually, “Coffee?”
“I should probably go soon. It’s getting late.”
“Mrs. T. went to the trouble to make coffee for us. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
“Well, maybe just one cup.”
He gave her a smile of approval and poured steaming coffee into the two cups that had been conveniently left out for them. “Just cream, right?”
“Yes, please.” She took a couple of steps toward him to retrieve her cup.
Holding the cup in his hand, he turned. Their eyes met. Very slowly he replaced the cup on the counter, leaving his hands free.
She went into his arms as if she had intended to do so all along.
For once, Nathan wasn’t smooth. Their noses bumped when he swooped down to kiss her. She felt a tremor in his arms, an indication of the tension that had been building in him all night. And then he kissed her until she was the one trembling and clinging to him for support.
Cupping her face between his hands, he lifted his mouth only far enough to murmur rather fiercely, “If you only knew how long I’ve wanted you.”
She felt as if she had been waiting all her life for this moment. And now that it was here, it petrified her. “I don’t—”
He kissed her again, his tongue plunging between her lips to mate with hers. And somehow her hands were tangled in his hair, her legs entwined with his as he pressed her against the refrigerator door. He devoured her mouth, and she responded with an equal hunger, flattening herself against him so that she could feel every hard muscle in his body against her. And she reveled in the growing hardness that proved he wanted her as mindlessly as she wanted him.
A low growl rumbled in his chest, a primitive, utterly male sound that seduced her as pretty words never could. There was such delicious power in knowing he wanted her so badly. Such a feminine thrill in the awareness that she could make him tremble with need.
“There are still so many things we need to discuss,” she murmured into his mouth, trying to retain at least a modicum of common sense. “Things we need to think about.”
“Let’s not think tonight,” he groaned, sliding his hands down her sides and resting his forehead against hers. “Just this once, let’s not think.”
Act without thinking
? Without planning? Without considering all the possibilities and ramifications? How totally unlike her.
“I want you, Caitlin.”
“I want you, too,” she whispered, because it would be pointless not to admit it. “But—”
He kissed the arguments back into her mouth. “Just for tonight, can’t we let that be enough?” he asked when he lifted his head again.
Could wanting be enough, just for one night? And could one night ever be enough between them?
Don’t think, he had said. Don’t worry about tomorrow. And for once, she wanted nothing more than to follow Nathan’s example and act wholly on impulse.
He rubbed his lips slowly, enticingly over hers. “Caitlin?”
Just this once, she promised herself, and lifted on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck. This time she kissed him, and she held nothing back.
The sound he made held deep satisfaction. Very slowly lifting his mouth from hers, he stepped back and took her hand.
Her decision made, she didn’t hesitate again, but allowed him to lead her out of the kitchen.
Just this once, she promised herself, she wouldn’t think. She would simply enjoy.
Nathan’s bedroom was as carelessly masculine as he was. The single, low-wattage lamp on his nightstand revealed heavy woods, earthy colors and bold textures. The room was as neat as a pin; remembering that he had changed hurriedly for their date, she suspected that Mrs. T. had been in to tidy up while they were gone. She didn’t want to speculate about whether the housekeeper had been doing her chores or had considered herself preparing the room for company.
Had they been in Caitlin’s apartment now, she might have lit candles, maybe turned on some soft music. Since Nathan’s decor didn’t include candles, and his music selection was probably filled with classic rock, he did neither, but simply swept the spread off his bed and tumbled her onto it, barely giving her time to kick off her shoes.
She decided that his unpretentious actions suited her just fine. She didn’t want calculated seduction from Nathan, no careful scene setting or romantic gestures. She simply wanted him.
The flattering tremor was still in his hands when he carefully stripped away her beaded jacket and black sheath, leaving her clad only in black bra, panties, garter belt and stockings. Her face flamed as it occurred to her that her provocative undergarments might lead him to believe she had expected the evening to end this way. Then it burned even hotter when she silently admitted to herself that he would probably be right.
Apparently, she had stopped thinking sensibly before this date had even begun.
Whatever he made of her reasons, it was obvious that he heartily approved her outfit. His hands were all over her, exploring and caressing until she writhed against the sheets, almost desperate to feel him against her. She tugged at his clothing, tangling them both in folds of fabric until he laughed softly and lifted away from her to take care of the task himself.
When he came back to her, he wasn’t wearing a stitch—and Caitlin was quite sure she had never seen anything more appealing in her entire life. Nor felt anything more delectable. She ran her hands slowly over his sinewy arms and sleek chest, down to his narrow waist and lean hips.
An athlete’s physique, she mused, strong and fit and virile. She would find it very hard to believe that a more perfect body had ever existed.
It didn’t take him long to add her undergarments to the piles of clothing on his floor. Caitlin might have been self-conscious about her nudity—she didn’t consider herself to be nearly as close to perfection as Nathan—but his obvious pleasure in her restored her confidence. Whatever imperfections there might be, he didn’t even seem to notice.
He looked at her as though he found her as beautiful, as desirable as she found him. And when he touched his mouth to her, it was with a reverence that brought a lump to her throat.
He nuzzled her neck, lingered at her breasts, kissed his way down to her navel and circled it with his tongue. Her hands fisted in the sheets beneath her when he moved even lower, her back arching instinctively. Her breath caught hard in her throat, then released in a gasp. “Nathan!”
Murmuring something soothing and unintelligible, he kissed her intimately, then made his way slowly back up her body, stopping to revisit places he had discovered before. She could hardly remember her own name by the time he returned to her lips. Yet she couldn’t seem to stop whispering his.
He donned protection swiftly, barely fumbling with the task though his hands were still shaking a bit. And then he returned to her, sliding inside her with a single, smooth thrust that seemed to join them permanently. From this moment on, he would always be a part of her, she realized, even as she drew him nearer. It was the only coherent thought that penetrated the haze of passion she floated in, and it should have terrified her. Instead, it made the experience all the more beautiful.
After all, tonight she wasn’t thinking about the future, she reminded herself dimly. Tonight was all about feelings. And this felt heavenly.
Nathan rolled, shifting her on top of him, giving his hands better access to her breasts and shoulders. Supporting herself on her hands, she leaned her head down to kiss him.
Her hairpins seemed to have disappeared; her hair fell in a soft curtain around their faces. Their mouths fused, their tongues thrusting in a leisurely imitation of their intimate joining.
When their movements became more frantic, Nathan shifted again, crushing her into the mattress as he pounded into her. Just barely remembering that they weren’t alone in his house, she bit her lower lip to hold back her cries and dug her fingers into his shoulders as her entire body shuddered with a mind-shattering release.
A moment later Nathan gave a choked gasp that might have been her name, signaling his own climax. And then he collapsed on top of her, his face buried in her throat.
Still holding him, Caitlin stared blindly at the ceiling above her and wondered how much longer she could simply enjoy this time with him. Sooner or later she was going to have to start asking herself what this night was going to cost her.
Nathan sensed the moment Caitlin’s hyperactive brain kicked into gear. He could almost hear the doubts, the questions, the worries and rationalizations begin.
While he had always admired her practicality and conscientiousness, he wished they could have drifted on sensations a bit longer this evening.
“I should leave,” she murmured.
He wasn’t ready to let her go. Shifting to relieve her of his weight, he tucked her into his shoulder. “Stay a little longer.”
“I don’t want to be here when Isabelle wakes up,” she fretted softly, even as she snuggled her cheek into the curve of his throat. “I don’t even have a change of clothes.”
Smoothing her hair, he brushed a kiss against the top of her head. “Just let me hold you for a little while longer.”
She relaxed slowly against him, one hand resting on his chest. “Just for a little while.”
He would take whatever he could get, he thought, enjoying the feel of her warm, soft body pressed against his. As far as he was concerned, whenever she left would be too soon. He would be perfectly content to keep her here in his bed forever.
Since he knew she was far from ready to hear that, he kept the words to himself. Not saying them didn’t make them any less true, of course. He didn’t know when, exactly, his feelings had progressed from affection to more, but he had no doubt that he was in love with Caitlin Briley.
He had never actually been in love before, but he had no trouble identifying the condition. He’d felt fondness, respect and desire for other women, but he’d never even come close to wanting to make a lifetime commitment with any of them.
He was fully prepared to take that step with Caitlin, just as soon as he thought she was ready to hear the words.
Which, he acknowledged reluctantly, was not going to be tonight. She had taken a huge step by making love with him, despite her concerns about getting personally involved with her
business associate. He knew she was worried about how their working relationship would change now and what would happen to the firm if their affair went south.
He also had the uncomfortable suspicion that she was concerned about being tied down, having him—or anything—interfere with her career. For whatever reason, she needed to validate herself through her success at work, and she was extremely leery of anything—or anyone—that resembled a potential stumbling block. It was entirely possible that she saw him as a giant-size block, especially now that he came as a family package.
She shifted against him with a soft sound that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a purr. His arm tightened around her, and he pressed a kiss against her hair.
Whatever he had to do, he would somehow convince Caitlin that they belonged together. And that he would never do anything to interfere with her dreams.
She lifted her head to give him a drowsy smile. “If I stay much longer, I’ll fall asleep. I don’t want to risk having Isabelle find me in your bed.”
He rolled to lean over her. “Trust me,” he murmured, “you aren’t going to fall asleep. Not just yet.”
She looked wide awake when she reached up to welcome him.
Caitlin finally convinced Nathan that she had to leave. Fully dressed again, her hair still down, but brushed out of her face, she lingered just inside the front door for a final good-night.
“Drive carefully,” he said between kisses. “Maybe you should call me when you get there.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You are not my father. I’m quite capable of seeing myself home.”
“Maybe I just want to hear your voice again before I go to sleep.”
Refusing to be swayed by his blarney, she reached for the doorknob. “Good night, Nathan.”
He held the door closed for a moment. “I want to see you again tomorrow. Come spend some time with us. Isabelle loves seeing you.”