Lord of Rage rhos-2

by Jill Monroe

  Just a boring weekend?

  Alone?

  His mouth went dry. Something dark and bitter broke free in him. No, when had he become so paranoid? So Miriam wasn’t ready to share the news about them with her friends and family. No problem. This was all new to him, too. Except he wanted to shout from the rooftops that Miriam chose to be by his side.

  Jeremy thrust the sheets away from his body and swung his legs to the floor. He pulled on his jeans and grabbed his T-shirt. Hating what he was thinking of Miriam.

  She said goodbye to her brother and returned to him. “Good news, my brother and the doc finished the book, and if that last chapter is as good as what I’ve already read, it’s going to be great.”

  He knew how much of her company’s resources she’d put behind that book, and its success meant a lot to her both professionally and personally. “Let’s go out, Miriam, go to a restaurant and cut loose. Maybe we could invite your friends.”

  She dropped her hand so fast from around his waist, she almost left skid marks on his back. “No, Jeremy. We can’t.”

  “Can’t? What do you mean can’t?”

  “Going out to a restaurant would be too much like a date. I can’t have a relationship with you. Date you. You probably think dating is going to the Taco Barn with change you found between the cushions of your couch. Or on the floorboard of your car.”

  Jeremy made a face. “That would mean I’d actually have to clean. You’re serious? You really don’t want to go out? Get to know each other’s friends?”

  She nodded, her face looking tortured. “Don’t you see? I’m over fifteen years older than you, Jeremy. Believe me when I say I can’t pass for twenty. Hell, sometimes I can’t pass for thirty.”

  “No one’s asking you to pass for anything.”

  “Do you realize what people will say? They’ll take one look at us together and make assumptions. They’ll call you my boy toy. I’d look pathetic.”

  “That’s easily fixed. You just stare down anyone who’s stupid enough to tell you that and say, ‘Screw you.’”

  She stalked into the dining room and huffed, “Oh, that’s really mature.”

  “Then that fits, because apparently I’m low in adult behavior skills.”

  Miriam twisted her hands together. “Would you stop acting like that?”

  He turned a surprised gaze to her. “Like what?”

  “Like you’re all broken up about this.”

  The silence between them stretched taut.

  She reached for his hand, caught his fingers between hers. “Jeremy, I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t ask you to come here. You did that all on your own. I never even returned your phone calls.”

  His hands dropped to his sides, and he took a step back. He could accept a woman not interested in him. He was a guy who could bow out gracefully. But with Miriam, he’d planned to at least put up a fight. A fight she apparently didn’t want him to make.

  “If you’d turned me down right from the beginning, offered to play hostess to me being tourist, instead of us winding up in bed—I would have walked on. That would have been the end of it.”

  Her brown eyes didn’t soften.

  “But the minute you fell into my arms, the second your lips touched mine, I knew what that kick in the stomach was all about. What I’d been missing since you left Oklahoma.”

  Miriam refused to meet his eyes.

  “A fire burns between us.” He grabbed her shoulders. “If this were no more than a second one-night stand, it would have been through by the weekend. You wouldn’t have extended it into this week. It’s hotter than it was before.”

  “Think of this as just getting lucky. You’re twenty. You should be into easy lays.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t make this into that…”

  “I did. Our time—”

  “Our time was all about you and me. It’s been there all along. And for the record, I could afford to take you someplace other than Taco Barn. I have a good job back home.”

  Her eyes narrowed, finally meeting his gaze. “One that allows you to take off and leave for weeks at a time?” she asked. Her voice skeptical.

  “As a matter of fact, yes. I own my own business. I flip houses. I buy them cheap, fix them up and sell them at a nice profit. The housing market is usually slower in February. That’s when I normally book my vacation. And don’t worry, even if I should lose a job, I can always find another. People are always looking for someone who can fix things. I can go anywhere I want. Men who can work with their hands, cabinetry, plumbing, we’re a dying breed.”

  “OH,” MIRIAM SAID, suddenly feeling deflated. She’d insulted Jeremy. “I’m sor…”

  Her words trailed off as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, though. You spent this time with me because you love me.”

  She jerked away. “Jeremy, don’t make this into something it’s not. I know you expect to have what your parents had. To fall instantly in love and live happily forever. But they were lucky. It doesn’t work like that for everyone. For most people.”

  “My parents listened to their hearts. And it wasn’t just luck. They worked at their marriage. They made it work. They became the person the other one could count on. I want you to count on me. I want to be the man who left the world a little better than the way I found it by fixing things with my hands. I want to be the guy who took his kids out for doughnuts on a Saturday morning so Mommy could sleep in. But one thing I don’t want to be—the man whose woman was too embarrassed to introduce him to her friends.”

  She stood away from him. “You don’t love me, and I certainly don’t love you,” she told him.

  “Prove it,” he challenged.

  You went to bed with me because you love me, she answered, but didn’t say the words out loud.

  Jeremy stepped toward her. “Tell me how you feel about me. Tell me you don’t love me.”

  “I don’t love you,” she told him quickly. Firmly.

  She saw that flicker of hurt touch his eyes. She knew better than this. At least she should have. She was older and supposedly wiser. Miriam had spotted the vulnerability in him. She should have known it would come to this, and avoided it. The responsibility of hurting him cut deeply, she was sick and angry with herself.

  “That sounded really convincing.”

  “The truth usually is.”

  “Prove it’s the truth.”

  She tilted her head toward him. “How?”

  He held out his arms. “Come over here and kiss me.”

  Sexier words had never been spoken. Desire pounded her body. “I’m not going to kiss you.” But her words lacked any defiant conviction.

  “Well, how do I know that’s how you really feel?”

  “I just told you how I really feel.”

  She couldn’t take much more of this. She’d kiss him, prove him wrong, send him back to Oklahoma. And she’d make a vow. Never, ever get involved with someone under thirty. Forty.

  “No sly stuff.”

  “You assuming you’re going to lose?”

  “No, I’m assuming that you’re tricky.”

  “Tricky? I’m hurt you’d say that. I’ve always been straightforward with you. I want you. I want to spend more time with you, and get to know you even better. It’s you who hasn’t been honest. With yourself.”

  “Oh, come over here, kiss me and get it over with.”

  “Now darlin’, I can say I’ve had better offers than that.”

  “Fine.” Anything to get this point proven and the whole thing over with.

  She walked with slow, deliberate steps toward him. He took a seat at her dining-room table.

  So her younger lover wasn’t going to make this any easier for her. She had no desire to hurt him. She wouldn’t try to lay on him a kiss that would send Jeremy reeling. She’d simply give him his kiss, all the while remaining detached.

  After Oklahoma, he’d haunted her ni
ghts, but now that was over. She just had to make him believe it. And herself. She’d focus on something completely mundane, not on the sexy ruggedness of his voice.

  She lowered her head, and her hair fell forward, shrouding them. At the first touch, his lips remained firm. And closed. Miriam pulled away slightly and darted her tongue along the seam of his lips, then traced the outer edges with the tip of her tongue.

  Still nothing from him.

  The blood pounded in her ears, her mouth grew desperate for the taste of him.

  “What are you trying to do here? Why aren’t you kissing me back?”

  “Maybe if you put some feeling into it. If you trusted yourself to,” his voice taunted.

  “Maybe it’s because there are no feelings involved.”

  “Then prove it, and kiss me like you mean it.”

  Miriam braced her arms on the armrests of her very expensive mahogany dining-room chair. She felt like rolling up her sleeves and getting to work on this guy. She trailed small kisses to his ear then licked the sensitive skin below.

  He sucked in a breath.

  Good. She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue. Jeremy moved his hands to her head and tugged her face to his. He met her lips with his mouth open. Fire shot through her body, tightening her nipples and sending a rush of feeling downward, fueling her desire.

  Jeremy jerked her closer, his kiss deepening.

  Off balance, she fell onto his lap, straddling his legs. The hard ridge of his cock sent another wave of warmth through her. She pushed herself closer, touching him through their scant clothes. She began to move up and down, mimicking the moves she’d make on the mattress.

  Jeremy placed his hands on either side of her face and gently thrust her away. She balanced her forehead on his. Their heavy breathing filled the room. Jarringly, she sat up and shoved the hair from her face. She couldn’t pretend that was nothing—her nipples still throbbed.

  Okay, it was sex. Just sex. But nothing else.

  Through a sensual haze, their gazes locked. His eyes blazed like sunlit sapphires.

  “You’re right,” he said, his tone flat. His expression blank. “You don’t love me.”

  He’d called her bluff.

  And then Jeremy Kelso pushed himself up from the chair, collected his things and walked out her door and out of her life.

  That’s when she noticed the light in her kitchen was working.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  IAN LOOKED AT HIS WATCH for the third time. A feeling completely foreign and strange came over him. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was until he looked at his watch yet again in the span of less than thirty seconds. That’s when the feeling wagged its smug little finger at him.

  He was nervous.

  Why was he nervous? He wasn’t a nervous kind of guy. People shot at him, and he didn’t blink at that.

  But he knew the reason. He was edgy because his time with Ava was over. He’d typed the last word of the book last night. This morning he’d scanned the last picture and emailed everything to his sister. He expected to hear from her at any moment. But he wasn’t worried about her thoughts on the book. He knew that Sex by the Book—the new title—was stunning. Ava had created something amazing. But…

  He’d faced guns, angry officers of the law and death, but none of that compared with facing Ava when she arrived. He’d said goodbye to a few women in his day, but they’d all been like him, looking for some contemporary company.

  And he’d never been in love with any of them.

  In fact, falling in love had never entered his mind. What the hell?

  Had the word love just charged into his head? Twice? If it had, he planned to make it exit. Love, if he even believed it existed, didn’t mix with anyone with the last name Cole.

  But then he thought of the beautiful woman on her way to him. Damn. He’d done it. Or she’d done it. Whoever it was, he’d fallen in love with Ava Simms.

  He’d been an idiot not to see it coming. How could he not spend all that time with someone as witty, smart and sexy as Ava and not fall in love with her?

  Yes, it was definitely time to go.

  Then he saw her walk through the door of the elegant restaurant where he’d booked a table for them to celebrate the completion of the book. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the most expensive china and silverware graced the table.

  The perfect setting for a breakup.

  She smiled at the hostess in greeting. He’d miss that smile aimed in his direction, Ava’s blond hair flowing freely around her face the way he liked. Damn, she was so beautiful. And challenging. She made him wish for things. Things he could never have.

  It was right to end it now.

  Ava removed her sunglasses and he watched as her beautiful green eyes scanned the area. Their gazes met. Held.

  Those emerald eyes of hers communicated a wealth of feeling. Each intriguing. But the emotion that called to him, drew him in, was the promise he saw lingering in their lush depths. A promise he couldn’t take her up on.

  She smiled at him now, and he almost changed his mind. Almost. He didn’t return her smile.

  Ava slid into the plush seat across from him, her eyes searching his. She seemed to find what she was looking for because she dropped her gaze and sighed. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” He nodded.

  “What about taking a vacation?”

  “You know that wasn’t really real. We just told ourselves that. My flight leaves tonight.”

  A line formed between her eyebrows. “So soon? Don’t I get any say in this?”

  He shrugged, knowing he was hurting her. “Why would you?” he asked, angry at himself for being deliberately cruel.

  He sighed and looked around the restaurant, avoiding looking at her. Having this last meal with her had been a mistake. Soon she’d have him rethinking his decision to leave. To follow his chosen career path. Like after the sending-off ceremony, when he thought he could do anything.

  She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “Yeah, why would I?”

  A waiter approached their table. Oblivious to the tension between them, he asked merrily, “What can I get you folks to drink?”

  Her green eyes examined Ian once more, then she looked up toward their waiter and offered him a tight smile. “Nothing for me, thanks. I’ve decided I’m not hungry.”

  She stood, and Ian stood along with her. “Ava, let’s—”

  “No, Ian, it’s okay. Stay, or go. It doesn’t matter. I’ll take a walk around the canal. Plan what I’m going to do next. Maybe sort out that vacation.”

  He flinched. The idea of her vacationing, having a life without him, made him ache.

  “In fact, I missed a call from your sister.” Ava balanced on her tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Take care,” she whispered below his ear.

  This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be leaving him. He shouldn’t be letting her go. Letting her go? Hell, he’d pushed her away.

  They should be celebrating over wine and candles and all that romantic stuff he knew would make her happy. They should be swapping memories of the last few days of the writing process. Laughing over times they’d argued, because it was done now and the finished product really worked.

  Afterward, he would take her into his arms. Lead her onto the dance floor, then later hold her in his arms while they made love. Any normal boyfriend should be thrilled things were beginning to work out for her career.

  But he wasn’t boyfriend material. His sister called him an adrenaline junkie. A risk taker. And there was Ava, a gentle researcher. An academic. How would their lives ever meet?

  Ending this—it was the right thing to do. He knew it. But knowing that didn’t make it stop hurting like hell.

  MIRIAM SAT FOR A MOMENT and watched the blinking cursor on her laptop screen. It felt good to be back in the swing of things. She knew catching up on work at home would make her return that much smoother.

  Work. The one thing that was always there for you. Never lef
t your side.

  She’d learned on her father’s knee that reaching the top level of a chosen career was the epitome of success. Things like family and kids never really factored in. Certainly hadn’t played a key role with her dad, anyway. Words like kids, and mommy and doughnut seemed to roll off Jeremy’s tongue without him even choking. Weird.

  Miriam rubbed her temples. She couldn’t remember the last time she let someone else handle the particulars. Jeremy had wanted to handle the particulars. He’d been interested in her business. Keeping their home clean. Feeding her. Fixing the things that were broken in her life.

  But she’d realized a long time ago, there was no fixing some things that were broken. Especially when the breaks and tears had happened so long ago. She’d been cynical about love, about men, about relationships by the time she was thirteen. A few delightful days spent with Jeremy were never going to fix that.

  Yet…she’d wanted them to.

  A knock sounded at her door and she jumped, knowing it was him. It had been two long days since Jeremy had left her apartment. Left her.

  But she’d recognized his knock. A funny thing to be familiar with, but there it was. She could distinguish his knock as surely as she could make out his scent or the build of his body.

  She raced for the door, swinging it open. Jeremy stood there, looking sad and oh, so good on her eyes. “I’m leaving tonight. Thought I’d say goodbye.”

  She nodded, not really trusting herself to speak.

  He rubbed the callused pad of his thumb against the swollen softness of her lips. She darted out a tongue and tasted his skin, unable to stop herself. With a groan, his lips found hers with an urgency that made her heart skip and her toes curl.

  She buried her fingers in Jeremy’s hair, pulling him closer as she opened her mouth for him.

  Thrills shot through her as his tongue entered her mouth and filled her with heat. Jeremy’s hands moved from her waist to cup her breasts, and she moaned deep in her throat.

  MIRIAM SMOOTHED HER HAIR from her forehead and molded herself to Jeremy, not ready to let go of him yet. She placed a kiss in that sensitive place between his neck and shoulder. “I’m glad you came back.”