She’d made it.
“Happy New Year, Theo Tremblay,” she murmured. “Thank you for the book.”
There was wariness in his gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d gotten it.”
“Of course, I did. But I wanted to thank you in person.” Lyssa smiled. “In the best way possible.” She didn’t wait for his reply before she backed him into the bar and kissed him.
Right on the mouth.
One more time.
How could a man taste so good?
How was it that she never got enough of him?
Theo didn’t hesitate this time. His hands landed immediately on her waist. He spun her around and backed her into the bar. He trapped her there with the lean strength of his body, slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her with enthusiasm.
Better than ever before.
Like he’d been waiting for her to make a move.
He might have been driven by desire, or overwhelmed by his need—or just as hungry for her touch as she was for his. Lyssa didn’t care. It was perfect. This time, he did the little flick with his tongue and Lyssa wanted to laugh with delight. Instead she was quivering all the way down.
Yes, yes, yes!
Theo knew he should have expected that kiss. On some level, he’d been hoping for it. But it had seemed too good to be true not only that Lyssa arrived and performed and rocked the club, but that she’d cornered him and kissed him. And then there’d been nothing but Lyssa and raw need.
How did they even get upstairs?
Theo had no idea. There was something about the heat of Lyssa’s kiss that shorted his circuits and made him forget everything except the magic they made together. No, it was Lyssa herself. She’d always taken the initiative and he’d never been able to decline anything she suggested. Time hadn’t changed her ability to stir him, not one bit.
If anything, she was even more impetuous—and he was less inclined to let any opportunity slip away.
He’d been dazzled when she arrived and mesmerized when she danced. He’d pretended to be oblivious of her approach when she stalked him, but he’d been well aware that he was in her sights—and he’d had no desire to move. He’d been ready for whatever challenge she might offer, because he’d seen by the glint of her eyes that there was one coming. She’d had that confident daring look, the one that still made his heart skip. He liked that there was no pretense, that she was unafraid to show that she wanted him.
And that kiss made her as irresistible as ever—maybe more so, since he’d been haunted by their lovemaking earlier in the week. One interlude hadn’t been enough to satisfy—it had just been enough to make him burn for more.
The club was in chaos as the new year arrived, a frenzy of celebration on all sides, but for Theo, there was only Lyssa.
When their kiss broke, he was vaguely aware of Hunter’s surprise and the bartender’s knowing smile, but then Lyssa pulled his head down and touched her lips to his ear.
“I want you now,” she whispered, a welcome urgency in her words, and there was no chance Theo would refuse.
He studied her, finally seeing his Lyssa in the illusion that was Angel. “I promised you an hour,” he replied and she smiled.
“But I don’t want to talk first.”
“I don’t think it will take that long.”
Lyssa laughed, untroubled by that.
Theo didn’t question his impulses. He was in the moment, and he was in it with Lyssa. He claimed her hand and led her out the back door, the one the staff used. He strode through the office to the elevators. Her heels clicked on the polished stone floors behind him as she hurried to keep up. She swore with an earthy familiarity that made him smile, and pulled him to a halt. She tugged off her heels, holding them in her other hand so she could run barefoot with him.
One glance was enough to make Theo’s heart thunder. This was the woman he remembered. The mask was slipping and he was glad. Her lipstick was partly gone and her laughter made her look mischievous and young. Her eyes were shining and her smile made him feel as if minutes had passed instead of years.
They kissed again in the elevator, Lyssa backing him into a corner to feast upon his mouth before the doors even closed. Fortunately, Mr. Bernard was off for the night, or the doorman might have been shocked. There was a moment when Theo considered the merit of asking her about this Logan guy, but it was easy to dismiss the impulse. For one hour, he could forget the future and the past and savor the present.
Lyssa framed his face in her hands and rose to her toes, crowding him into the back corner. She held him captive to an embrace that was everything good. Her breasts were crushed against his chest and he cupped her butt in his hands, lifting her closer. She made a little moan of need that nearly destroyed him and slanted her mouth over his, her tongue sending fire through him. She hitched up her skirt and wrapped her legs around him, the move giving him a whiff of perfume and her own musk.
Theo halfway wished his apartment was on a higher floor, so he wouldn’t have to end her kiss, but he couldn’t regret being so close to privacy. They stumbled out of the elevator and Lyssa giggled as he tugged her toward his apartment. He unlocked the door and they fell into the darkness as they kissed again. He heard the clatter of her sparkly clutch purse landing on his kitchen counter, her shoes hitting the floor, and the click of the door closing behind them.
Then there was only Lyssa.
The apartment was filled with shadows and the ambient light from the city. The large windows had shades that offered privacy but still let in the light, filtering it. They peeled off each other’s clothes with ridiculous haste, flinging them on the floor. He was wearing more than she was: one wriggle and she sent that dress slithering to the floor like a shed skin. Her panties and bra went right after it, and he’d only taken off his jacket and shoes.
It was all fresh and new and hot.
“Slowpoke,” she teased, then unfastened his belt, pushing down his trousers and caressing him through his briefs.
“Just enjoying the view,” he countered with a smile and she laughed.
“Not what it used to be,” she said with a shrug.
“Thinner,” he noted, touching her waist. He knew that wasn’t what she meant, but he thought she was just as perfect as before.
She shook a warning finger at him. “No compare and contrast.”
“Even if I like it all?”
Lyssa smiled and tugged off his tie, flinging it over her shoulder with a laugh. Theo unfastened his shirt, shedding it and then his T-shirt. Lyssa ran her hands over him with appreciation, then bent to flick her tongue across his nipple. He hadn’t had time to turn on a light but the light from the city was romantic, in a way. He didn’t even have candles or the means to set a scene for seduction: he seldom brought women into his sanctuary. He could hear the party from the club floors below and the honking of car horns in the street. He looked down at Lyssa, unable to believe that she was real and that they were together again.
Then Lyssa tugged down his briefs and fell to her knees, taking him in her mouth as smoothly as she used to do. Theo closed his eyes and leaned back, gripping the counter, savoring the pleasure she gave him. “It’s like you invented this,” he managed to whisper and he felt the fan of her breath when she laughed.
“I had a really good teacher,” she replied, then tormented him some more. He heard himself moan. He felt his fingers curl against the granite counter. He was taut and hard and filled with need for Lyssa. He heard himself whisper her name, then felt her hands slide up his sides.
“Have a taste,” she invited, touching herself, then running her fingertip across his mouth. Theo sucked her finger, the taste and the scent of her arousal pushing him to the edge. They kissed again, even more ferociously than before and he caught her up, carrying her the short distance to the couch. He laid down with her atop him and felt her smile as she straddled him.
Their gazes met for one of those potent moments in the shadows, and it seemed to Theo as if it had been
only moments since the last time, and even since the time before that. There was a timelessness in their union. There was a powerful connection between them, the one he’d trusted intuitively, the one he couldn’t deny even now.
Then she shook out her hair so it fell like a veil around her shoulders and her gaze slid away, as if she had secrets to keep. That troubled Theo, because they’d always had total honesty in these moments. Maybe he’d been imagining it. Before he could think more, she mounted him, her lack of hesitation so sweetly familiar yet enough to steal his breath away. Theo gasped when she rocked atop him and he gripped her hips.
“Bigger and better,” she whispered, as she bent to kiss his ear.
“Your fault,” he replied, smiling when she laughed again.
Then her mouth locked over his and her tongue slipped between his teeth. She moved, her hands landing on his shoulders and her fingers digging slightly into him, and Theo was seduced all over again.
Theo had a tattoo.
Lyssa figured there had been more changes than that, but the ink surprised her. It was small, just a little red heart on his left bicep, but she wondered what it meant. It was where the bandage had been the other day. Not a shot or an injury.
A tattoo.
A new tattoo.
And a heart.
She bit her lip and wondered who it was for.
It wasn’t for an old love but a new one.
Theo wasn’t married, but he must be in a relationship. Lyssa told herself that was a good thing. It would be good for Logan to have one parent in a committed relationship.
Even if that possibility filled her with jealousy, jealousy she had no right to feel.
She stared at the tattoo, wondering if she’d just done something really dumb. Lyssa knew fidelity was a huge thing for Theo. She’d thought only about getting him alone, not about leading him astray.
It felt like less of a good thing that she’d been able to seduce him with success. What about the other day? Did he regret that? Why had he sent her the book, then? Lyssa couldn’t think straight, not when she wanted to nestle up against Theo and make love again.
One of these days, she had to stop following impulse.
Probably not soon.
Just the way she’d always feared, she’d fallen short of the high bar Theo set. She should wake him up and talk to him, make her confession, and have it all out between them. But he would be angry that she’d held back the truth, and while she could understand that, she dreaded his reaction.
And that heart. Had she made it even worse?
She ran a hand over him in a slow caress, telling herself that he had to need some sleep. Funny how all those years ago, Lyssa hadn’t realized how impressive his skills were. But then, he had been her first. Now she recognized that he was a thoughtful lover and a thorough one, a kind one and a powerful one. She couldn’t have made a better choice. She hadn’t known fully what she’d been giving up.
Lyssa couldn’t bring herself to leave and she knew she couldn’t stay. She felt jangled, both physically pleased and emotionally uncertain.
It would be at least nine in the morning before Logan came back to the hotel from his sleepover with Simon. Lyssa could have stayed with Theo here, had breakfast with him, and talked. It might take more than an hour for her confession.
The heart, though, the heart changed everything.
Who had convinced him to get a tattoo?
Lyssa never would have believed that Theo would have marred his own skin for anyone. The heart was only tiny, but its import was enormous. That little bit of ink made her think of repercussions.
What if the woman in Theo’s life didn’t want anything to do with Logan?
That could complicate everything.
No, it could ruin everything.
The other woman might even have keys to the apartment.
She might just walk in. Wouldn’t that be a great start to the new year? The prospect made her heart skip.
Still Lyssa hesitated. Stay or go?
The apartment was obviously Theo’s own—the decor was minimalist and it was painstakingly neat. Everything in its place. That was Theo. The couch was either an antique or made to look like one—even in the half-light, she guessed it was caramel-colored leather. It had studs and was worn to softness, like something from an old gentleman’s club. There weren’t many pieces of furniture but they were large and of excellent quality. Striking. Theo still didn’t compromise. Some things didn’t change—or some people didn’t. It was a reassuring idea in this case. This apartment’s size and its simplicity indicated that he lived here alone, but maybe it wasn’t his only residence.
Maybe the kindest thing she could do for both Logan and Theo was leave quietly.
It was a depressing idea but a compelling one.
Maybe she was just avoiding the storm.
She needed to think.
Lyssa tugged on her panties and found her bra under the coffee table. She pulled on her dress, studying Theo as she dressed. She hadn’t had time for a good look at the hotel. He was a little bulkier than he had been, a man instead of a youth. He worked out a fair bit, she’d guess, given the impressive sculpting of his muscles—but then, he was part-owner of a fitness club. His skin was smooth and dark, as if he was an ebony sculpture.
Her memories hadn’t done him justice, not at all. What would she give to paint him? She had an old sketchbook full of drawings of him in her safety deposit box and Lyssa had a feeling she’d be starting another. Funny how looking at Theo seemed to spark the urge to draw as nothing else did. She always wanted to photograph Logan, maybe because he was growing up and changing so quickly, but Theo made her yearn to capture his image perfectly just once. She looked for her shoes, easily finding them by their sparkle even in the darkened apartment.
A spotlight swept over the building then, illuminating the apartment with a sudden flash of light, and Lyssa ducked instinctively.
Then she caught her breath.
There was a painting on the wall opposite the couch. She’d assumed the large dark square was a flat screen television, but now she saw a smaller television in the corner.
It couldn’t be that painting.
Heart in her throat, she moved closer to look.
It was that painting. Her painting. The one she’d painted because of Theo’s words, the one she’d left for him when she’d abandoned her studies. It had seemed right that he have it, that he was the only logical custodian.
She hadn’t expected that he’d care, though.
To her surprise, it had been framed as well as hung in a position of honor. It was the way the glass reflected the light that had made her think it was a television. Plus the image was very dark. She remembered that well. Lyssa could just barely see her own signature in the bottom right corner and reached up, her fingertip hovering over the date.
Ten million years ago, give or take.
But Theo still had it.
Lyssa wondered if it was as good as she remembered it being, then didn’t want to know. It was cowardly, but she told herself that turning on the light to look at the painting would only awaken Theo. She’d written that poem on the back, the one by Christina Rossetti that was pretty much the only thing she’d learned in that class.
She still could recite it from memory.
I loved you first: but afterwards your love
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong...
The painting made Lyssa realize how much Theo didn’t know, and the tattoo made her wonder if he wanted to know.
She didn’t want to argue and she didn’t want to lie.
She had to think.
She had to leave.
She was a massive chicken-shit.
Her decision made, Lyssa lifted the throw from the back of a chair and spread it over Theo, her han
d hovering above his lips. The temptation to kiss him goodbye was fierce but she held it in check and turned away.
She eyed him from the doorway one last time, then shook her head and slipped out the door. The click of the lock behind her sounded final. The elevator doors opened immediately, as if having sensed her need for speed. As soon as she was in the lobby of the club, she called Peter.
She’d tell them that she’d been dancing.
No one needed to know the truth.
And she’d call Theo after Logan was back at school.
Eight
The ringing of his cell phone awakened Theo.
He rolled over, disappointed to discover that he was alone. The sky was getting lighter. It wasn’t quite morning, but it wasn’t night anymore either. He could see a few stars over the distant park and the lights of the city were dimmer. It was a lot quieter, too. He was naked, his clothes were strewn on the floor, and the throw his mom had sent him for Christmas was spread over him.
Lyssa was gone.
He knew he shouldn’t have expected otherwise, but he sat up and surveyed the apartment, unable to escape the sense that he’d been used. Again. Oh, he’d enjoyed it, too, but he’d never been one for casual sex.
It was hard to tell when Lyssa was around.
His phone rang again and he frowned. He hadn’t plugged it in the night before. He wasn’t entirely sure where it was. It wasn’t where he usually left it, but he’d been...distracted.
What had happened to that hour of conversation Lyssa had wanted in exchange for her appearance?
The phone rang again. Maybe she was calling about it now. He found the phone in the pocket of his suit jacket, where it had been during the day, although the jacket was cast over the back of a kitchen stool. He thought it was complaining because the batteries were low—which it did, once he had it in his hand—but he saw that he had a whole slew of messages, too.
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