When Manda was told she would not have long to live, she’d sat him down and lectured him about what she wanted and expected from him. Her only mandate: Take your time to find that special woman to love and protect, as his father had loved and protected her. He’d thought that woman was Kim, but she hadn’t wanted his love or protection. That was something she’d gotten from her manager.
Nate glanced around the bedroom. “Do you sleep here?”
“Of course I sleep here. Why would you say that?”
“It’s looks so sterile. There’s not a speck of dust anywhere. And the bed looks as if it’s never been slept in. It reminds me of those displays you see in furniture warehouse stores.”
Reaching for his hand, Morgan pulled him over to the bed. She sat on the side of the mattress, kicking off her flip-flops. “Take off your shoes and get in.”
“What?”
“Come get into the bed with me.”
Nate’s face clouded with uneasiness. “Why?”
“To prove to you I’m not as anal as you believe I am.”
“I really didn’t mean it when I called you anal.”
“Yeah, you did, Nate. Nothing comes out of your mouth you don’t mean to say.”
She lay on the pillow staring up at him, unaware of how much he wanted to share a bed with her. He wanted to make love to her. There was something about her that had changed him—profoundly. Her artistic outlook on life was refreshing. And she’d gotten him to come out of his shell. That was something no woman had been able to do since his divorce.
“What’s the matter, Nate?” Morgan said, goading him. “Are you afraid I’m going to jump your bones?”
Smiling, Nate cupped his ear. “Is that a challenge or a promise?”
Morgan patted the mattress. “Get in or go home.”
“I thought it was go big or go home,” he said, kicking off his sandals. “Move over, gorgeous.” Morgan scooted over as he lay beside her. “Nice mattress.” Rolling over on her side, she faced him, resting a bare leg over his.
They lay together, their breathing coming and going in a slow, measured rhythm. Morgan thought she would’ve felt a panic sharing the bed with Nate, but it was just the opposite. Cuddling with him on the bed had become a continuation of their beach outing. Never had she felt so relaxed, so confident with a man. Maybe it was because she and Nate had decided beforehand that their relationship would be based on friendship.
“How often do you do this?” Nate asked after a comfortable silence.
“Do what?”
“Invite men to your bed?”
“You’re the first one.”
“Lucky me.”
She laughed softly. “It’s not all that lucky.”
“Let me be the judge of that. I don’t usually get into a woman’s bed unless I’m making love to her.”
Snuggling closer, she wrapped her arm over his waist. “Why can’t I be the exception?”
Removing her arm, Nate turned to face her. “You can’t be the exception, Mo.”
Her smooth brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“We talk about being friends like ten-year-olds, but we’re not kids. I can’t continue to kiss and touch you while pretending that I don’t want more.”
Morgan could hear her heartbeat in her ears. It was beating so fast she was grateful to be lying down. “What is more, Nate?”
He smiled. “You’re a very bright woman, Mo. Figure it out.”
“Tell me exactly what you want.”
“I want to make love to you.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Nate kissed the bridge of Morgan’s nose. “But I don’t want to put pressure on you.”
“Are you certain that sex won’t complicate things between us?”
“Why should it?” Nate asked.
“I don’t know. I enjoy your company and I love being your friend. I just don’t want that to change.” Morgan couldn’t afford to get caught up, knowing that what they had would never end in a happily ever after. At least not for her. And she didn’t want a repeat of what she’d had with her art history professor. During their relationship she’d lost track of the number of times he’d told her he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but everything came crashing down around her when she found out he’d told several other students the same thing. Once bitten, twice shy had become her mantra. The difference between Leonardo and Nate was that she knew exactly where she stood with the latter. He’d been forthcoming when he said he had no intention of getting married again. For that she was grateful because she wouldn’t be blindsided.
“Were the men in your past bad to you?”
Morgan shook her head. “No. They didn’t do anything to me I didn’t permit them to do. My first serious boyfriend was a fellow college student, and I slept with him for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to know what it felt like to have a boyfriend, and I was more than willing to give up my virginity to him.”
Morgan hadn’t been completely honest with Nate. There were a number of things that led to the breakup, but she was too ashamed to admit that her first lover had asked her to become involved in a ménage à trois, if only to put some excitement in their sex life after he’d slept with her study partner. The final straw came when Morgan called her lover Nate in the throes of passion. Prior to that, the only time she’d been able to climax was when she’d fantasized about Nate making love to her.
“Were you in love with him?”
“No.” I was still in love with you, her inner voice answered. “I had another relationship. This one was with my teacher when I lived abroad. He was older, very erudite, and to say I was in awe of him is an understatement.”
Nate rubbed Morgan’s short hair between his fingertips. “That’s understandable, baby. A lot of young women have similar experiences. I saw that firsthand when I lived in Europe. I’d thought it was a fad, but someone told me many female college students have affairs with their instructors or men they’ve met in the cities or countries where they were studying.”
Morgan laughed. “Well, I was one of those starry-eyed female students. I don’t regret becoming involved with Leonardo, because I believed I was an adult when I met him. I finally acknowledged that I was a girl in a woman’s body.”
“Were you in love with him?” Nate asked again.
A wry grin twisted her mouth. “I believed I was. So much so I was ready to give up everything I had here to live in Europe.”
“What happened, Mo?”
Morgan chewed her lip as she thought about what she wanted to disclose to Nate. “I found out that our relationship wasn’t the first time he’d slept with a student, stringing her along then summarily dismissing her when it was time for her to return to her home country. A couple of students who knew Leonardo said I was luckier than the others because he’d actually asked me to live with him. Of course that didn’t make me feel any better, but I remembered something my grandfather lectured me about.”
“What’s that?”
“Think with my head and not my heart. Love with my heart and not my head. With Leonardo I was thinking with my heart. He called me a silly little girl because I should’ve accepted what he was offering, but this silly little girl wasn’t about to become a paramour to a man who could trade me in when he took up with someone new.”
Nate kissed her forehead. “Good for you,” he whispered. “Sometimes we have to go through a little adversity to knock us into reality.”
“Are you talking about your marriage?”
“Yes.”
Morgan listened intently as Nate told her about meeting Kimberly at a party he’d attended with his friend Dwight Wickham. Dwight’s father worked in the film industry, and he’d invited his son and Nate to a wrap party for an independent film directed by Kim’s father. The attraction had been instantaneous. Nate and Kim became an A-list couple, dating for a year before setting up house together.
“Six months later we were married in a circuslike spectacle. I should’ve known it wa
sn’t going to last because we spent the first two weeks of our marriage living apart.”
“Oh, no!” The two words were out before Morgan could stop them.
“Oh, yes,” Nate responded. “The wedding and reception were held on her father’s estate. When it came time for us to leave for our honeymoon, Kim didn’t want to because she was having too good a time with the guests. We were scheduled to sail to Hawaii and stay there for ten days before flying back to the mainland. I went and she stayed in L.A.”
“I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out.”
“I’m not,” Nate countered. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Can I see the floor plans for my apartment now?”
Despite what she had said, Morgan wasn’t sorry his marriage hadn’t worked out. He was back, and life had thrown her a vicious curve. She had intended to hire Shaw Woodworking for the project, but instead of Lucas being the supervisor it was Nate. She’d convinced herself that what she’d felt for Nate was nothing more than a lingering childhood crush, a crush that was now a conscious desire for him to make love to her.
Slipping off the bed, she led Nate into her office.
“Why does this room remind me of Paris?” he asked.
She looked at Nate over her shoulder after she’d turned on several table lamps. “That’s because the style is known as Euro-eclectic. The writing table is a classic European-style desk, and the oval-back chair is a Louis XVI–inspired piece. I found the plaques at an estate sale in Savannah. When I bought them I had no idea what I’d use them for, but after I added this room I decided to decorate the walls with them.”
“Did you find the shades at the sale, too?”
Morgan stared at the Roman shades covering the quartet of windows. The gold, orange, and red hues in the exquisite hand-painted wall plaques were repeated in the shades, which were stamped in red with scenes from a Chinese village. This room, like the others, was filled with potted plants and vases of fresh flowers.
“No. I had them custom-made.”
Nate met her eyes. “I like that each room is a different style with its own personality.”
Morgan glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late, so I’ll show you the solarium when you come back. I’ll boot up the computer so you can select which floor plan you’d like. Please pull up a chair.”
Over the next three-quarters of an hour she watched Nate as he stared at a series of floor plans for each of the rooms in the barn house. “I’d like the second bedroom to be an office,” he said, pointing to a plan. All the furnishings were reminiscent of the British colonial and French Regency influences found throughout the Caribbean.
“Okay, you want the entire apartment to have the same island-influenced style,” she said, jotting down the numbers she’d assigned to each of the plans.
“Cavanaugh Island is subtropical, so I’d like to bring the outdoors inside. How soon can I expect delivery after you place the order?”
“Probably three to six weeks. I’ve chosen manufacturers that have most of the pieces in stock.”
Nate placed an arm around Morgan’s shoulders. “Tally up everything and let me know how much I owe you. Don’t forget to include your commission.”
Morgan checked off the floor plans she wanted to print, then clicked the Print icon. “I’m not charging you anything.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t charge friends.”
“What if we weren’t friends?”
“Nate, please. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, I do. I’m not going to take advantage of you, Mo. I know it didn’t take fifteen minutes for you to work these up. Either you add your commission or I’ll go to another decorator.”
“No, you won’t,” Morgan countered confidently. “There’s no time. You said yourself you wanted to be moved in by summer’s end.”
His hand tightened around the nape of her neck. “So,” he whispered in her ear. “You think you know me that well?”
Turning her head, Morgan stared deeply into the golden orbs holding her captive. “No, but I’m getting to know you.”
He leaned closer. “I wish you’d been older in high school so I would’ve had the opportunity to take you out.”
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, Nate. I’m past that.”
“No, you’re not.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you said you’d never date or marry a man from the island. If you were truly past it, then you would’ve changed your mind.”
“Am I not dating you?”
Nate nodded. “Yes, but—”
Morgan pressed her mouth to his for a quick kiss. “No ifs, ands, or buts. Thanks to you I’ve turned a corner.”
“Big corner or itty-bitty corner?” he whispered against her parted lips.
Inhaling his warm, moist breath, she smiled. “It was a corner of titanic proportions.” Morgan shivered when Nate placed tiny kisses over every inch of her mouth, lingering at the corners. “Now please go home before I beg you to make love to me. And if there’s one thing I don’t like, it’s begging.”
Nate groaned as if he were in pain. “Morgan, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
Her expression reflected her innocence. “What’s the matter?”
Nate closed his eyes. “I’m probably going to spend a restless night fantasizing about you.” He opened his eyes, meeting her wide-eyed stare. “It’s called teasing.”
Her dimples winked at him when she pursed her lips. “I didn’t mean—” Whatever she was going to say died on her lips when Nate pulled her to his chest and kissed her again, his tongue slipping into her mouth. It ended as quickly as it’d begun, leaving Morgan visibly shaken.
“Good night, Mo. I hope you sleep well.”
She stood there a full minute before she was galvanized into action. Morgan made it to the porch in time to see Nate speeding away. At the last possible moment he put his hand out the window and waved to her. Although she returned his wave, she doubted whether he saw her because he was driving much too fast.
She sank down into the rocker instead of going inside. Trying to figure Nate out was like opening a puzzle box that held more than a thousand tiny pieces. He’d talked about wanting to make love to her, but when she echoed his words he had come undone and accused her of teasing him.
Unwittingly, he’d teased her, too. Her dreams weren’t exactly G-rated. There were mornings when she woke up with her heart pounding and the area between her thighs pulsing with need.
Morgan knew she and Nate would eventually share a bed and each other’s bodies, but the question was when—and where would that leave them?
Chapter Fifteen
It’d been two days since Morgan had implored Nate, Please go home before I beg you to make love to me, and since that time he hadn’t been able to get a restful night’s sleep. Rolling over, he opened one eye, peering at the clock on the bedside table. It was 2:17. He punched the pillow under his head, not wanting to acknowledge that he was turning into an insomniac.
Nate had told Morgan that she’d been too young for him when they were in high school and if given the opportunity to date her he knew for certain he wouldn’t have slept with her. He hadn’t needed her or Chauncey for sex because he’d been secretly sleeping with an older woman, who’d not only taken his virginity but had also introduced him to a world of sensual pleasure.
He punched the pillow again, turning over on his belly. He closed his eyes and attempted deep breathing with the hope he would drift off to sleep. The cell phone he’d left on the bedside table vibrated, the buzzing sound reminding him of an annoying insect. Nate sat up, reaching for the phone. He couldn’t imagine who was calling him so late. The display shone brightly in the darkened bedroom. His sister had left him a text message saying that they were going to drive from Philadelphia to New York and spend two days there visiting the Intrepid Sea, Air, and Space Museum, the Sta
tue of Liberty, and taking in a show at Radio City before heading back to Cavanaugh Island for the Island Fair.
Nate froze when he saw Odessa’s name and number. “What is it? Talk to me!” he shouted when sobbing came through the earpiece.
“Please come, Nate.”
“Is Dad okay?”
“Yes. Just come.”
The next ten minutes were a blur. Nate pulled on a pair of jeans and pushed his feet into a pair of sandals at the same time he pulled a T-shirt over his head. Grabbing his keys off the dresser, he raced out of the house, stopping only to lock the door. It appeared as if he’d just started the SUV when he came to an abrupt stop, tires spewing gravel, as he punched the button to cut off the engine. The sound of deep male voices could be heard through the open windows, and Nate knew why Odessa had called him. His father and brother were yelling at each other. The scene that greeted him would be one he would never forget. Bryce stood nose-to-nose with Lucas, the veins in the necks of both men bulging.
“Bryce!” His brother, reacting in slow motion, turned to stare at Nate. “Outside.” Though spoken softly, the single word had the same impact as if he had shouted it. Waiting until Bryce preceded him out to the porch, Nate closed the door with enough force to rattle the windows. He pointed to a chair. “Sit down. Please, Bryce.” Pulling over a matching chair, Nate straddled it. “Tell me why you felt the need to disrespect our father in his home.”
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