They lay together, limbs entwined. Ethan didn’t want to move but he had to get up and discard the condom. He pressed light kisses along the column of her long neck. “I’ll be right back.”
A hint of a smile softened Faith’s lips. “I’ll be waiting for you to tuck me in.”
He returned her smile. “Isn’t that what put us in this compromising position?”
“Are you complaining?”
Ethan ran the tip of his tongue over her parted lips. “No.”
“I’m glad because I really like making love to you.”
“And I you,” he countered, easing away from the warm moistness of her tight body. “Don’t move.”
Faith wanted to tell Ethan that she wouldn’t be able to move even if her very life depended upon it. Never had she experienced such an incredible sense of fulfillment as she did now.
* * *
“Don’t you dare get up,” Ethan whispered in Faith’s ear as she moved to get out of bed.
Faith went completely still. She’d been awake for a while, waiting for sunrise, but hadn’t gotten out of bed because she didn’t want to wake Ethan. “I have to get up,” she whispered back.
“Why?”
“Why?” she repeated, her voice rising slightly. “I’ve been lying here for the longest time trying not to wake you up. For your information, Ethan McMillan, I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Oh.”
Rolling over, she glared at him in the shadowy light coming through the window blinds. “Oh. Is that all you have to say? Where did you think I was going?”
“I thought you were going to get up and start cooking.”
A low, sultry laugh escaped her. “Didn’t you order me not to cook this weekend, darling?”
Ethan smiled. “Yes, I did. Somehow I didn’t think you’d be so obedient.”
A shiver of annoyance swept over Faith before she forced herself to relax. “Just how are you using that word? If you expect me to become a pushover, then you can forget about a relationship of long duration because I’m out of here.”
Moving quickly, Ethan straddled her body, not permitting her to move. “I stand corrected, darling. I meant agreeable.”
“That’s better. Now, either you let me up or I’m going to embarrass myself and ruin your mattress.” He shifted off her, slipped out of bed, then reached for Faith and picked her up. “I can walk,” she said in protest as he walked out of the bedroom and headed in the direction of her bedroom.
“Can’t you relax enough to let me become your knight in shining armor this weekend?”
“Yes,” she said, laughing. “But I much prefer a prince to a knight.”
“Aren’t knights more gallant than royals?”
Faith rested her head on his solid shoulder. “Not in my fairy tale.”
“Now I’m intrigued. You’re going to have to tell me about your fairy tale.”
“I will, but not now.”
“When, darling?”
She knew it was time to tell Ethan about the men in her past, but she didn’t want to ruin their brief time together talking about the mistakes she’d made when choosing badly. “I’ll tell you about it after I’ve drunk one too many during our Valentine’s Day tryst.”
“I’ll be certain to remind you in case you forget,” Ethan said as he lowered Faith until her bare feet touched the cool white blocks of the stone flooring. Not waiting, he turned and left her to her morning ablutions as he retreated to do the same. He’d wanted her to share his shower, but that would come later.
He’d waited a long time for a woman like Faith Whitfield to come into his life, and the moment he realized he’d fallen in love with her, he also realized that some things in life were worth waiting for.
* * *
True to his word, Ethan wouldn’t permit Faith anywhere near the kitchen except to sit down and eat. He prepared breakfast—a Greek omelet made with spinach and feta cheese, freshly squeezed orange juice and the most delicious homemade flaky biscuits shipped frozen by Northern California Galaxy Desserts. Breakfast became a leisurely affair when they read the Sunday Times, cleaned up the kitchen, then crawled back into bed together. Both dozed off to sleep, not waking again until late afternoon when they had to rush to make it to church for the last service.
“I’m going to drop you off at home before I go and pick up dinner,” Ethan informed Faith as he maneuvered out of the church’s parking lot.
“Why don’t I go with you?” she asked.
“I have to wait for a call telling me that it’s ready.”
“What did you order?”
Ethan’s dimples deepened when he smiled. “It’s a surprise.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Faith exhaled a heavy breath. “Be like that.”
“I’m immune to pouting, so you can give it up.”
She cut her eyes at him. “I can think of another way of punishing you.”
It was a full minute before Ethan realized what she was alluding to. “O—kay,” he drawled. “If you want to play dirty, then I’ve got something for you.”
Faith became suddenly alert. “What?”
“Withhold the goodies and you’ll find out.”
“What are you talking about, Ethan?”
“I’m talking about you refusing to sleep with me, sweetheart.”
She felt like screaming, because she’d thought he was different from the other men who believed sex was the glue that cemented a relationship. “It’s not about sex, Ethan, and it will never be about sex. I’d continue to date you even if we never shared a bed.”
“And I you,” Ethan countered.
Faith sat staring out the windshield as the man with whom she’d fallen in love decelerated and turned off on the road leading to his subdivision. She was confused by his admission that he was willing to date her without the added benefit of sharing a bed.
“But for how long?” she asked.
“I can’t answer that question. There’s the saying that some things in life are worth waiting for, and you fall into that category.”
Pinpoints of heat stung her cheeks with his compliment. “Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you, because you make it very easy to love you.”
Faith closed her eyes. “Don’t spoil what we have with declarations of love.”
“What are you afraid of, Faith? Don’t you feel as if you have a right to have a man love you?”
“It’s not that at all, Ethan. Past experience has taught me that relationships based on love don’t work for me.”
“You want one based on sex?” There was no mistaking the thread of shock and confusion in his query.
Faith shook her head. “No, Ethan. What I want is a relationship based on trust. To me trust supersedes love. Anyone can profess to love someone or something, and still inflict hurt and lasting pain, but trust must be earned.”
“Do you trust me, darling?”
Faith shared a glance with Ethan as he activated a remote device raising the barrier at the gatehouse. “Yes.”
An expression of satisfaction filled Ethan’s eyes as he waved to the man in the gatehouse. He drove a short distance and pulled into the driveway alongside his town house. Within seconds of shifting into Park his cell phone rang. He answered the call, ending it quickly. Rising slightly off his seat, he reached into the pocket of his slacks for a set of keys, handing them to Faith.
“Go on in, sweetheart, and wait for me. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”
Faith took the keys, slipped out of the car and made her way to the front door. She unlocked it and walked in. Ethan hadn’t bothered to turn on the alarm. After hanging up her coat in a closet off the entryway, she strolled through the living room and formal dining room and into the kitchen, silently admiring the house that still had the smell of newness.
The two-bedroom, two-story structure provided the perfect getaway for comfortable living and relaxation. There were only eight homes in the private enclave,
half containing two-bedroom suites and the other three-bedroom suites with formal living and dining rooms, gourmet kitchens, family rooms, multiple full and half baths. Ethan had decorated his home in an eclectic mix of contemporary and the strong geometric shapes reminiscent of Frank Lloyd Wright’s style that combined the essence of nature-inspired forms with rhythms, colors and structures. When she’d remarked on the house’s tidiness he’d admitted that he had a cleaning service come in once a week.
There still were many things about Ethan that remained a mystery, but Faith had reconciled that she didn’t need to know that much about the man with whom she was sleeping. Her priority was how he related to her whenever they were together. There was no doubt they could engage in a relationship without the angst she usually encountered whenever a man sought to micromanage her life, as long as he respected her boundaries.
* * *
Ethan walked into the kitchen cradling one large shopping bag to his chest while gripping the handles of another. “Honey, I’m home,” he announced in his best Ricky Ricardo imitation.
Faith glanced up from setting the table with china and silver. “How was your day?” she asked, playing along with him.
Resting the bags on the granite countertop, Ethan slipped out of his jacket and left it on the back of a tall stool. “It’s wonderful, but I thought I told you that you weren’t to work this weekend.”
She adjusted the water goblets at each place setting. “I’m only setting the table, Ethan.”
“That’s working,” he countered.
“All I’ve done is eat, sleep and bathe.”
“And don’t forget making love,” he reminded her with a wide grin.
Wrinkling her nose, she tapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Now, how could I forget that?”
Moving closer, Ethan pulled Faith into a close embrace. “It’s apparent it wasn’t that memorable if you forgot.”
Resting her hands on his chest over a black silk and wool-blend sweater, Faith kissed his warm, brown throat. He felt and smelled so good. “It could be I have a problem with short-term memory and require remediation.”
“How many lessons do you think you’re going to need?” he said teasingly.
She felt his fingers tighten on her waist. “If you’re on your B game, then it’ll take many more lessons, but if you elect to bring your A game then perhaps five, maybe six.”
A crooked smile tilted the corner of his mobile mouth at the same time he shook his head. “Either I’m getting old, or I’m out of practice.”
Faith emitted a delicate snort. “I don’t think so.”
Going on tiptoe, she anchored her arms under his shoulders, brushing her mouth over his. He increased the pressure until her lips parted. The kiss deepened, their tongues meeting, tasting and exploring what the other had to offer. A slumbering desire came to life, and she felt as if she were being devoured—whole. Everything going on around her and the man holding her to his heart ceased to exist as she lost herself in the moment.
What she wanted to tell Ethan was that he was the only man who’d brought her to climax during their first physical encounter. If he was out of practice, then she didn’t want to think of him being in top form, and one thing for certain was that he wasn’t too old to make love to a woman.
Ethan’s hands moved from Faith’s waist to her hips, cupping the flesh and permitting her to feel his hardening sex. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman he’d encountered. Struggling against the need to take her in the kitchen, on the floor or countertop, Ethan took a step backward to put a modicum of space between them.
Breathing heavily, he stared over her head. “If you don’t stop kissing me like that then I’m going to be the only one eating tonight.”
Faith caught his meaning immediately, the veiled threat eliciting a pulsing and rush of wetness at the apex of her thighs and leaving her as aroused as he. “Whatever you have in those bags smells wonderful,” she said, hoping Ethan hadn’t registered the breathless quality in her voice.
Ethan didn’t want to talk about food. He wanted Faith in his bed with him inside her body; even when they’d gotten into bed earlier that day he’d wanted to make love to her but managed to suppress the need to take her again. What he didn’t want was for her to believe that all he wanted from her was her body. The only thing she’d asked from him was trust and it was something he would give her.
“I decided that we could have a private tailgate party.”
Faith folded her hands on her hips. “Did you bring beer?”
Ethan shook his head. He’d never acquired a taste for the brew, and rarely kept it in the house. He made an exception when entertaining family and friends. “I’d like something a little stronger than beer.”
“What do you want?”
“Can you handle a Manhattan?”
She flashed a saucy moue. “The question should be, can you?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“How do you like yours?”
“Is there a difference?” Ethan asked.
Faith smiled, nodding. “Yes. It can be dry or sweet.”
Staring at the woman with whom he’d fallen in love, Ethan gave her a lingering glance. It was apparent that she was as versed in mixing cocktails as she was cooking and baking. “I don’t like sweet drinks, so I have to assume I’ve always had it dry.”
“Do you want me to put the food on the table while you make the drinks?”
He shook his head. “I want you to sit and relax.”
Faith crossed her arms under her breasts. “I feel so helpless sitting around doing absolutely nothing.”
Ethan stared at Faith, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. “Okay, sweets. You can make the drinks.”
Grinning broadly, Faith put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, darling.”
He splayed a hand over her slim hips. “You’re most welcome, darling.”
Faith busied herself, making two trips as she selected the ingredients she needed from the well-stocked bar in a corner of the living room and carried bottles of Canadian whiskey, sweet and dry vermouth and bitters into the kitchen; she filled a shaker with ice, then added whiskey, dry vermouth and a dash of bitters, stirring and straining the chilled liquid into a delicate martini glass.
Ethan removed more than half a dozen decorative Chinese takeout containers from the bags and placed them on the table. Crossing the kitchen, he peered over Faith’s shoulder as she slipped into the role of mixologist. “Hey, now, you really made it look nice.”
“What’s a dry Manhattan without an olive and a sliver of lemon peel?”
“But you knotted the lemon.”
She rolled her eyes at him over her shoulder. “It’s supposed to be knotted. It’s all in the presentation, Ethan.”
“Where’s yours?”
“Slow down, partner. I’m going to make one but I like mine sweet.” She handed him his drink, watching intently as he took a sip. “How do you like it?”
A slow smile spread over his handsome face. “It’s real nice. As soon as you fix yours we’ll sit down to eat.”
Faith substituted sweet vermouth for the dry and a maraschino cherry for the olive, and, walking slowly, carried her cocktail to the table where Ethan had pulled out a chair for her. She sat down and blew him a kiss when he rounded the table to sit opposite her.
The private tailgate party had become a gastronomical feast. He’d ordered small bite-size pieces of barbecue spareribs, crisp spicy chicken chunks, piquant shrimp and thinly sliced beef roasted on bamboo skewers, guacamole, deviled eggs stuffed with pimentos, a peppery cole slaw and carrot salad. She sampled a little of each while taking sips of her sweet and decidedly lethal cocktail.
Ethan stared at Faith over the rim of his glass. “Why hasn’t some man made you his wife?”
Faith stared back at him through her lashes. “Why? Are you putting in a bid?”
His deadpan expression did
n’t change. “Maybe I am.”
A hint of a smile touched her mouth as she shook her head at his cryptic response. “Sorry, but I’ve been there, done that.”
“I thought you said you’d never been married.”
“I haven’t, but I did come close once,” she admitted. “I lived with a man who’d proposed marriage, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept because I realized my life as I wanted it wouldn’t have been my own.”
Reaching across the table, Ethan held her hand, gently tightening his grip when she attempted to pull away. “What happened?”
She shook her head. “I really don’t want to talk about it now.”
He released her hand, successfully concealing his disappointment behind a polite smile. Faith didn’t want to talk, while he wanted to tell her that he was tired of dating and sleeping with women because that was what they’d expected him to do; he wanted to get married again, and this time get it right. He wanted to father children with Faith as their mother; and he wanted her to be the last woman in his life.
Picking up his glass, he drained the contents. He motioned to her half-filled glass. “Do you want another one?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
You’re good, while I’m not, Ethan thought as he rose to his feet and made his way to the counter to make another drink. Perhaps if he drank enough of the potent cocktails, then he could temporarily forget about Faith and her reluctance to let him share a corner of her life.
His mantra was to be happy, patient and positive, but it was patience that had become a challenge because of Faith’s reluctance to let him get close to her.
CHAPTER 14
Ethan took a sip of his cocktail, grimacing. Although he’d used the same ingredients as Faith, it didn’t taste the same. “I need your help,” he said, crossing the kitchen and extending the glass to her. “Take a sip and tell me what I did wrong.”
Faith took a small amount of the liquid into her mouth, held it for several seconds and then swallowed it. She wrinkled her nose. “Yuck! You put in too much bitters.”
Bowing gracefully from the waist, Ethan pressed his hands to his chest in supplication. “I will never attempt to mix another drink while in your presence.”
The Sweetest Temptation Page 17