Bedroom Diplomacy

by Michelle Celmer

  “I don’t want that right now. And even if I did, it would be a logistical nightmare. With Colin’s home in England, and all of Dylan’s doctors and therapists here in California, it would never work.”

  “What are you girls whispering about?” Colin said, grinning at the two of them.

  “Work stuff,” Tricia lied, but Colin’s look said he was skeptical.

  “Mommy!” Dylan said in a loud whisper. “Cowin wead to me.”

  “I see that,” Rowena said softly, stepping into the room.

  “I haven’t read this since I was a child,” Colin said. “It used to be one of my favorites.”

  “You look as if you have your hands full. Why don’t I take Matt? He’s due for a bottle soon.”

  As Colin handed him over, Matt startled awake and started to cry. She carried him into the kitchen to grab a bottle, but when she sat down and tried to feed him, he kept spitting the nipple out. She changed his diaper, but it was barely wet. She put him over her shoulder to pat his back—careful to use a burp cloth this time—and he cried even harder, until he was nearly hysterical. She finally gave up and carried him back into the infant room, where Colin and Dylan still sat.

  “Baby Matt cwyin’,” Dylan said.

  “Yes, sweetheart. He is one unhappy little boy.”

  “Not having any luck?” Colin said.

  “Could you try holding him again?”

  He nodded. “I’ll give it a go.”

  She handed him back, and the instant Matt settled on Colin’s shoulder, the crying miraculously stopped.

  Rowena laughed and shook her head. This was clearly no fluke.

  “His mom should be picking him up around six. Are you okay holding him for another forty minutes or so?”

  “If you could grab us a couple more books.”

  It was the least she could do. She went into the other room to the bookcase and picked out a few of Dylan’s favorites.

  “Thanks,” he said when she handed them to him.

  “Wead to me, Cowin!” Dylan pleaded, squirming restlessly in Colin’s lap. “Pweeze!”

  “Hold on a second, bud.” He looked up at Rowena and said, “Did you know that the senator left for Northern California this afternoon?”

  Her pulse jumped and she couldn’t help thinking, oh no, here we go again. “He never mentioned it, no.”

  “He won’t be back until late tomorrow morning.”

  Why was he doing this to her?

  “Probably going to be a nice night for a swim.”

  She had been at the pool swimming laps every night, half hoping, half dreading that she might look over and find him lying in his chair—she would never think of it as anything but his from now on—but he never was. And as much as she wanted him—and boy, did she want him— it was still a bad idea.

  Seven

  Rowena had debated going to the pool all evening. On one hand, she didn’t want to tempt herself. On the other hand, she did her laps every night. If Colin did show up, she could still tell him no.

  When Betty arrived at nine to watch Dylan, Rowena headed down to the pool, telling herself that no matter what happened, no matter what he said, she would put her foot down this time. She would insist they keep their relationship platonic. But when she got there, he wasn’t in the chair.

  Despite her internal pep talk, her heart sank. Clearly he’d had time to think about it, and he, too, decided it was better for everyone if they didn’t—

  She gasped as a pair of hands settled on her waist.

  He leaned so close she could feel his breath on the shell of her ear. “You didn’t throw me into the pool this time.”

  She probably should have. “Colin—”

  “No one saw me leave.”

  “So it’s okay as long as we don’t get caught?”

  “Can you give me another reason why we shouldn’t? Just one.”

  She opened her mouth to recite an entire laundry list of reasons. And drew a complete blank.

  “Can’t do it, can you?”

  She hated that he was right.

  “And it’s just going to be this one last time,” she said, turning to him. “I don’t care if my father goes on a month-long African safari. When we walk away from this pool tonight, it’s over.”

  “Well, then, let’s not waste another minute,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the pool house. She unlocked the door and let them in, but instead of turning on the lights, she made her way through the dark kitchen for the emergency candles and matches. Lamplight could draw attention, but no one would see the dim glow of candles, and there was the added bonus of it being romantic.

  She lit a candle and set it on the coffee table, then opened the cedar chest, where they kept sheets and blankets for the fold-out couch. She grabbed one of the thickest and softest in the pile and spread it out on the floor.

  “Doesn’t the couch fold out?” Colin asked.

  “Yes, but it’s miserably uncomfortable.”

  “Done this before, have we?” he said, sounding amused.

  She looked over at him and grinned. “My friends used to call it the love shack.”

  In the candlelight, dressed all in black, Colin looked sexy and edgy and maybe even a little dangerous.

  He kicked off his shoes and walked over to where she stood, unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes raking over her. “What’s under the cover-up tonight?”

  That was going to take a little explaining. “Okay, you have to promise not to be smug.”

  His brows rose.

  “Plan number one was to come down here, tell you we couldn’t do this, then go back home. And if that didn’t pan out, I came up with plan number two.”

  “Which is…?”

  “Save as much time as possible getting to the good part.” She grabbed the hem of the garment and pulled it over her head. The sound he made, the look of red-hot desire in his eyes when he realized what she was—or more to the point, wasn’t—wearing underneath warmed her blood.

  He mumbled a curse. “I guess that answers my next question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Exactly how far you were expecting this to go.”

  “All the way.”

  His eyes raked over her. “You have an amazing body.”

  “It’s a bit curvier than it was before I had Dylan,” she said.

  “Your curves are what I like,” he said, reaching up to trace the underside of one breast, then the other. “I prefer women to actually look like women, not adolescent boys.”

  Well, that was good, she supposed. Because if adolescent boys were his thing, that would be a problem.

  He pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the couch. Talk about an amazing body. She touched him, sliding her hands up his wide chest and across his strong shoulders. She’d completely forgotten about his scars until her fingers brushed his back and she felt the uneven texture where he’d healed. It was warm and deceptively soft.

  “Does it hurt when I touch you here?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “It feels nice.”

  “How about here?” She rubbed her hand across the fly of his pants, squeezing his erection through the fabric and felt it growing longer and thicker in her hand.

  Colin closed his eyes. “That’s nice, as well.”

  She unfastened his pants and pushed them down. Colin kicked them away, then dipped his head, teasing her nipple with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth. It had been so long since a man had touched her, he could blow raspberries on her belly and it would feel erotic. But this was so much better. He gave the opposite breast the same attention, then sank to his knees. She held her breath as he kissed his way downward, thinking, Please, please, please.

  In her experience, it was a rare man who liked to perform oral sex, and only a handful who were good at it. But when it came to receiving it, she’d never once met a man who said, “No, thank you, just not my thing.” So when Colin sank lower, as his fingers parted her and his tongue darted o
ut to taste her, the neglected, sex-starved woman in her shouted, Yes! Or maybe she said it out loud, because one second she was standing, and the next, her back was hitting the floor. And this must have been her lucky day because he was really good at it.

  Almost too good. Pleasure crept up on her, quiet and stealthy, like a wild animal stalking its prey; then it pounced, suddenly and violently, driving its claws and teeth into skin and muscle and even bone.

  When she opened her eyes Colin was grinning down at her. “Are you always this easy to bring off?”

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone,” she said breathlessly. “Well, anyone but myself.”

  “Then I’ll have to make this worth the wait,” he said, settling over her, making a place for himself between her thighs.

  “It already has been. It was worth the wait the first time you kissed me.”

  “Where do you keep your condoms?” he asked.

  Wait, what? “Where do I keep them? That is a joke, right?”

  “Do I look as if I’m joking?”

  No, he didn’t. “Colin, here in the U.S., that’s typically the man’s responsibility.”

  Looking thoroughly confused, he said, “Well, where I’m from, the woman supplies the contraceptives.”

  “Seriously?”

  A grin tilted the corners of his mouth. “No, not really.”

  He reached over to his pants and pulled a chain of half a dozen out of the pocket.

  “That was so not funny,” she said.

  He laughed. “Yes, it was. You should have seen your face.”

  If she hadn’t been so relieved, she probably would have socked him one. She did the next best thing. She shoved him over onto his back and straddled his thighs. “You know I’m going to have to get you back for that. And it will be when you least expect it.”

  If he was worried, it didn’t show.

  “Come here,” he said, pulling her down so he could kiss her. Then the earth tilted, and suddenly she was on her back again, Colin’s weight pushing her into the blanket. When she tried to shove him back over, he grabbed her wrists and pinned her arms over her head.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  He clearly preferred to be the one in control. The problem with that was, so did she.

  “I like to be on top,” she said, pushing against his hands.

  “And I like to dominate,” he said, refusing to let go.

  With each of them volleying for the upper hand, it turned into an all-out wrestling match. With the occasional illegal move—a pinch here, a bite there. And since neither would surrender the high ground, they finally compromised and did it standing up in the kitchen, her back pressed against the cool refrigerator door, her legs wrapped around Colin’s hips as he thrust into her, cheesy, decade-old refrigerator magnets dropping on the faded linoleum floor. And though he was doing just fine without her help, and she was more or less holding on for the ride, she couldn’t resist panting an occasional suggestion or two. “Kiss me here” or “touch me there” and a random “faster” or “harder.” Until she was so mindless from the pleasure, her brain ceased to function and her baser instincts took over. And this time, when she shattered, he was right there with her.

  “Wow,” Colin said, dropping his head on her shoulder, breathing hard. “Are you always so bossy?”

  “Bossy? Me?”

  He lifted his head and pinned her with a yeah, right look.

  She opened her mouth to argue, then reconsidered. “I guess I am.”

  “Have I ever mentioned that I like a woman who knows what she wants?”

  Lucky her. “So I was wondering if we might be able to do that again.”

  Looking amused, he said, “Were you under the impression that we were done?”

  “I wasn’t sure. I mean, I hoped we weren’t.”

  “We’re just getting started,” he said with a sexy grin. “And this time, I might even let you be on top.”

  *

  The next night, while Rowena was waiting for Betty, her phone rang, and the number that popped up on the caller ID belonged to Cara. Rowena had forgotten all about their Angelica Pierce conversation.

  Rowena assumed she had some sort of information, but instead Cara told her, “Block out the last week in March on your calendar. You’re coming to D.C.”

  “I am?”

  “Well, I figured you wouldn’t want to miss my wedding!”

  “You and Max set a date! Congratulations! And of course I want to be there.”

  Cara laughed. “Like I thought you would say no. It’s probably going to be a small ceremony, but feel free to bring a date. In fact, I’m hoping you do.”

  Rowena’s first thought was Colin, of course. As if that would ever happen. They’d had their one night, and now it was over. And despite what he said, he never really had let her get on top. Something she would always regret missing.

  “I actually have someone in mind,” Rowena told her.

  “You do?” Cara said, sounding excited. “Who?”

  “Well, he’s really cute. He has naturally curly red hair, hazel eyes, about thirty inches tall…”

  Cara laughed. “I was thinking someone just a bit older, but we would love it if you brought Dylan. Oh, and by the way, I did put out the feelers on Angelica, but with everything that’s been going on, I haven’t had time to follow up.”

  “To be honest, I haven’t even thought about it, so don’t feel rushed. I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t been keeping up with the news.”

  “Well, Ariella has been so bombarded by the media that she went back into hiding, and Eleanor Albert seems to have fallen off the face of the earth. No one knows where she disappeared to.”

  Rowena felt so bad for Ariella. She didn’t know her well, but the few times they had crossed paths, she seemed very nice.

  Rowena and Caroline talked for a few minutes more, until Betty came in.

  “I’m assuming this is for you,” Betty said, handing her a letter-sized white envelope. “It was taped to your door.”

  Curious, Rowena tore it open. Inside was a folded sheet of white paper with two words penned in unfamiliar handwriting.

  Pool House.

  Hadn’t they decided that last night was going to be their one and only time together? That it wasn’t worth getting caught?

  She walked to the pool house, rehearsing in her head how she would turn him down.

  The pool house was dark, but the door was unlocked. She opened it and stepped inside. There was a lit candle on the coffee table, the blanket was spread out on the floor and Colin, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and nothing else, sat in the middle of it. She opened her mouth to speak, only to find that her carefully rehearsed excuses were forgotten.

  “I had dinner with your father tonight,” he said.

  “Oh. That’s…nice.”

  “He actually wasn’t feeling well. Migraine, he said. So he took a sleeping pill and went to bed. I don’t imagine there’s any chance of him waking up and coming down to the pool.”

  No, when he took a sleeping pill he was usually down for the night.

  “We said one time,” she reminded him, but her legs were already carrying her across the room to the blanket.

  “You’re right, we did. So, what’s to stop us from saying one more time?”

  “The more chances we take, the more likely we are to get caught.”

  “That’s what makes it so much fun.” He flashed her that sizzling grin, and she was done for.

  “Okay, but this is the absolute last time,” she said, tugging her cover-up over her head. “And only on one condition.”

  “Name it,” he said, watching as she peeled her bathing suit off and made herself comfortable straddling his thighs.

  “This time,” she said, “I get to be on top.”

  Eight

  Two nights turned into three, and three into four, until Rowena and Colin finally admitted that they were having themselves a full-blown a
ffair. One that they agreed would end when he went back to England. That was the part Colin was feeling slightly ambivalent about.

  Not that he was thinking marriage, or even long term. The truth was, he didn’t know what he was feeling. Maybe because she was a complete departure from the spoiled and pampered socialites he’d dated in the past. The ones who accepted his decision to keep things casual, then did whatever they could to snag their claws in. Rowena didn’t have claws, or inhibitions, and she certainly knew how to have fun. And though she had made her share of mistakes, they had clearly given her an interesting outlook on life. She was sexy and intelligent and fun. And tough. She spoke her mind, even if what she said wasn’t popular opinion. He found himself fascinated by nearly everything that came out of her mouth. At the same time, she knew when it was better to say nothing at all.

  Unless he flat-out asked about Dylan, she didn’t bring him up, and when he did ask, her answers were brief and very vague. As if her affair with Colin and her relationship with her son were two things that she wouldn’t mix. He wasn’t sure if she did it to keep a safe distance between Dylan and Colin, or Colin and herself.

  Whatever the reason, he didn’t waste too much time worrying about it, especially now that they had just been handed a free pass for the entire weekend. Her father was flying to Washington in the morning for some critical senatorial vote, and, expecting a filibuster from the opposing side of the aisle, he wouldn’t be coming back until Tuesday evening.

  Colin was hoping he could talk her into spending those evenings in her suite. Or his. The pool house served its purpose, but the hard floor, where they were currently lying side by side, naked and sated, was getting old fast.

  “What am I going to tell Betty?” Rowena asked him. “She watches Dylan every night.”

  “Tell her you have swimmer’s elbow and you need a few days off.”

  She looked over at him and laughed. “Swimmer’s elbow?”

  “Or here’s a thought. You could come to my suite for an hour and a half. Then when Betty leaves, I’ll come to you. As long as I’m gone before the staff is up, we should be good, right?”

  “Are you saying that you want to sleep over?”