by Dani Wade
Tate strolled into the office to shut off the battery-operated lantern he’d left in there earlier. Before he cut off the light, he paused, staring at the shutters closed tightly over the windows. Heavy rain beat against the house, but here the sound was muffled. The last thing Tate had wanted to see was the choppy waves of the sea below, stirred up by the storm.
Haunting memories rose despite his mental protest. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, after all.
As he flipped the switch on the lantern, another noise joined the rest. It was so faint he almost missed it. Moving back toward the hall, he wondered if his guest had come to find him. He hoped not. He had willpower like a suit of armor, but she seemed to be able to find every weak point.
Then he heard the booming crash. He hurried down the empty hall until he reached her room. A commotion was in progress behind the door. What the hell?
He swung the door open, then froze. The door slammed against the wall. Before him...he wasn’t even sure what was happening. A writhing mass of wet bedclothes, splintered pieces of wood and dripping water occupied the bed...instead of the slightly damp housekeeper he’d left here thirty minutes before.
For a moment, the scene captured his artistic imagination. Despite the urge to rush in, he had to catalog it for future reference. And frankly, he was enjoying the show.
The frantic wiggling granted him glimpses of nicely rounded calves. He should help untangle her, he really should. Then she froze. He could just hear the quick intake of breath before she screamed, “Help me!”
That galvanized him into action. He struggled to find an opening as she thrashed about. “Be still,” he snapped.
His low command seemed to make it through to her because she paused long enough for him to snag the edge of the fabric. With a heavy tug, he divested her of the soggy bed curtains.
Then had the immediate urge to cover her back up.
As her bare calves had warned him, she’d taken off her jeans. And her bra. She now crouched, breathing hard, in the middle of the bed wearing nothing but a wet T-shirt and panties. Her wild auburn hair flew in every direction, including over her lightly freckled face. If he’d had twinges of attraction earlier, they were nothing compared with now.
Finally she reached up and tossed her hair back from her face. Tate quickly directed his gaze up to the ceiling. Whoa. Leaning over, he got a better angle to see what had happened. The substantial hole over her bed revealed only the darkened room above and the steady drip of water that he suspected came from dislodged tiles on the roof.
Straightening, he then let his gaze track back to the woman in the middle of the mess. “Don’t guess you will be sleeping here tonight. There must be some damage to the roof. In this part of the house, there’s only the one floor above you. It was fine during the last inspection, but something might have hit it or the wind must have ripped something loose.”
Reaching out, he plucked her from the bed. Her squeal echoed around the room. The distinctly feminine sound jump-started his heart. He hadn’t heard someone make a sound like that since he was a teenager. The women he met now didn’t squeal. They wouldn’t consider it sexy.
“Let’s get you settled somewhere else,” he said.
She was already shaking her head, sending her hair flying once more. “We need to clean up first,” she insisted. To his surprise she started gathering the mess into the middle of the bed.
While the thought was appreciated, her movements afforded Tate an even better view. The T-shirt barely covered her upper thighs. The expanse of smooth skin was mouthwatering. “I’ll get something to catch the water,” he murmured.
Escape was a relief, but a brief one.
When he returned with a large plastic tub, he found himself eye level with a pair of silky panties he’d have been better off not seeing. “What are you doing?” he growled.
Willow jerked, her shock unbalancing her and the candle in her hand as she stood on the bed.
“Woman,” he snapped. “Let’s not catch the bed on fire, too.”
She frowned at him. “This isn’t my fault. I was just trying to see what had caused the leak.”
“I’ll investigate in the morning.” He glanced over the now-stripped bed and soggy mattress. “And get this all replaced.”
There was no helping it. His gaze snagged on creamy white thighs below the edge of her T-shirt. She might not have realized how she looked before, but now was different. Her delicate hand came into view, tugging the hem down. He flicked his gaze up to her face, only to see a red stain spreading across her skin. Yep, she was fully aware now.
“Let me help you,” he murmured, then had to clear his throat as his voice deepened without his permission.
Still she accepted his hand for balance as she climbed down. The shocking chill of her skin as it met his made him shift gears from lust to more practical matters. Like where she was going to sleep...
He placed the tub carefully in the middle of the bed to catch the dripping water. Good thing it wasn’t coming down heavier. “This should halt the damage for a while. It should stop raining in a couple of hours,” he said.
Willow offered a brief nod, then skirted around behind him. “I’ve got to see about some clothes,” she said, her voice sounding strangled.
He shouldn’t have made her uncomfortable, but the rest of the night would make matters much worse.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked as she scooted toward the open doorway.
“I guess I’ll have to go out to the car to get my bags.” She paused, then inched back inside. “I should probably put on some shoes for that.”
“You aren’t going out in this weather.” As if to back him up, lightning flashed outside, then thunder rumbled loud enough to rattle the windows. “We will find something else for you.” He gestured for her to go out into the hall, but she hesitated.
Tate had a feeling this was where living as a single man and not as part of a family was going to bite him in the ass. He turned smartly on his heel and headed back the way he’d come, silently gesturing for her to follow. He ignored her questions, trying to get everything straight in his own mind first. With a sense of trepidation that he kept well hidden, he walked straight into his bedroom and opened the top drawer of the bureau, pulling out a well-worn T-shirt. He turned back to see her hovering in the doorway.
“You might as well come inside,” he snapped.
“Why?”
Her obvious hesitation reminded him that the situation wasn’t her fault and was completely out of both of their control. He tempered his tone.
“Because this is where the only other bed in the house is,” he said with a voice full of resignation.
She stepped through the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. “What?”
He spoke a little more slowly. “This is the only bed... And the only decent sofa is right there.” He pointed back toward the living area that comprised half the large master suite. “We’re going to share a room tonight, I’m afraid.”
Even in the dim light he could see her eyes cataloging everything she’d seen tonight—which wasn’t much. Still, she tried. “But there are so many rooms—”
“Which have been stripped. Or I assure you the mattresses are nothing but dust and springs by now.”
He held out the oversize T. “Your attire, my dear.”
Three
Even with the sound of heavy rain outside, Willow could still hear every squeak of the leather when Tate moved on the couch. And he moved a lot.
Too bad it wasn’t thundering still.
As the furniture protested yet another turn of Tate’s big body, Willow contemplated their current situation in the dark. She knew Murdoch had said they never had visitors, but she never imagined a big house like this wouldn’t at least be set up for the possibility. This was the South. Hospitality was an actual
way of life down here. All these rooms lying dormant would be unheard of.
It was a type of isolation Willow couldn’t imagine.
She should be sound asleep right now. Between the tense drive and the stress of meeting her new boss, exhaustion weighed down her bones. But her unexpected dousing in cold water and ceiling tiles had her hyped. And every squeak of the leather told her Tate was in the same boat.
As one particularly restless move was followed by a long sigh, Willow finally gave in. She sat up and projected her voice above the noise of raindrops hitting the windows. “This is ridiculous. Come to bed.”
Hmm...that probably wasn’t the right way to put it. Now that her vision had adjusted somewhat to the dark, she could see his head and bare shoulders rise above the back of the couch. “What did you say?”
She should have been intimidated, but she was over that by now. “Come sleep in your own bed. You’re never gonna get any rest over there. And neither am I.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That every time you move that couch creaks. It’s even noisier than the rain outside.”
He slowly got to his feet. To her relief, he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, covering the light skin that she wanted so badly to see. To cover her awkwardness over having her gorgeous new boss approach the bed she was sleeping in, she said the first thing that came to mind.
“At least the one good bed left in the house is the size of a football field.” Frankly, she felt a little lost in all this yardage.
“I’m not a small guy.”
To that, she could attest.
“But I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said.
“I think we’ll manage,” she said, her sense of humor asserting itself. “I won’t think less of you if you put pillows down the middle. After all, I want you to feel safe.”
Even in the dark she caught his pause. “Shouldn’t that be my line?” he asked. She detected a touch of amusement. Probably the best she could hope for with him, especially since his progress had slowed considerably. Did walking toward her on the bed have to resemble a death march?
Not that he should be too eager, but still...
“I’m not the one who needs convincing,” she reminded him. “And if I don’t get some sleep soon, I’ll have trouble proving my worth to my new boss tomorrow.”
This time she was granted a chuckle, and he finished making his way across the room. The bed shifted a little as he lay down, but he seemed to stay as close to the edge as possible. Heck, her arm fully stretched out wouldn’t come close to reaching him.
“No pillows?” she finally asked.
“I think I’m safe.”
You wish. She tried to relax, tried to sink into the most comfortable mattress she’d ever lain on, but it wasn’t happening. Then he suddenly spoke.
“Considering how well you’ve taken everything that’s happened tonight, I think you might have earned a point or two in your favor. Hopefully your new boss will agree.”
She huffed out a little laugh, then consciously forced her muscles to clench, then relax. It was the only thing she knew of to distract herself from his presence. So close, but still a good distance away.
That’s the way she should want it, but a niggling desire wouldn’t be smothered. If what he’d said was true, she’d have to learn to live with lusting after her boss in the quiet recesses of her own mind.
Though she’d thought sleep wouldn’t show up, considering the thoughts running rampant through her brain, the steady sound of the rain, the exhaustion she couldn’t fight any longer and the even breath of the man a few feet away eventually lured her under.
She woke to a different environment altogether. Instead of rain, sunshine peeked through the slats that protected the windows. Heavy covers kept her warm. Her body, her muscles, felt languid, almost liquefied in her relaxation. Then something shifted against her leg and sleep was immediately a thing of the past.
Suddenly the weight against her back and lower body made more sense. It wasn’t a heavy blanket. It was a man.
Her heart picked up speed. She lay on her stomach. His chest seemed to be covering part of her back. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see his fingers against the covers on the opposite side of her body. His warm, musky scent clung to the sheets, tempting her to draw in a deep breath.
But would even that slight movement wake him up?
As incredibly sexy as this was, and as much as her body throbbed its approval, the last thing she wanted was to face him knowing his leg had slid between hers. Why hadn’t he stayed on his side of the football field?
He shifted, rubbing a warm, hairy leg against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. The shirt he’d given her hung almost to her knees, but now she had a feeling her panties were exposed...and probably a little damp.
She needed out now. But how did she do that?
Above her hair, she heard a heavy sigh. The big body half covering hers stretched, pressing harder against her. A certain part of him was making its approval well-known. Willow bit her lip to keep a groan inside. Why did he have to feel so good?
Then he went absolutely still.
She squeezed her eyes shut. I don’t want to deal with this. And she certainly didn’t want him to see how much she enjoyed waking up to his body pressed against hers. But as he shifted infinitesimally, she braced herself for the inevitable awkward confrontation.
“Oh no,” he groaned softly behind her.
Oh yes. The only thing to do was guard her expression as best as possible and brave this out. Twisting around, she tried to blink innocently. “Sleep well?”
“Not my usual,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly enough to send tingles along her nerve endings.
She tried to ignore his heavy eyelids, sleepy expression and tousled black hair. But this whole “barely awake” look was short-circuiting her overloaded brain. “Pardon me?”
“Sleeping is usually a solitary experience.”
Even though the past twelve hours had proved that guests weren’t an option around here, she had a difficult time believing this hot, virile male only slept alone. “Seriously?”
Pulling away, he sat up on the edge of the bed. With him facing away from her, she couldn’t read his expression. She had a feeling that was on purpose.
His voice was low when he spoke, though not as gravelly as earlier. “I haven’t slept in the same room with another person since I was a teenager.”
As he walked away, Willow marveled for a moment. Considering how good it had felt to lie with him in this bed, she’d have thought he’d had plenty of experience in this area.
Or any area related to the bedroom.
* * *
Tate was glad Willow had disappeared by the time he came out of his dressing room. The tremor in his hands as he’d washed up and dressed had startled him.
The desire had hit him hard and fast.
Not since he’d been an untried youth had he been near a woman he had to have. His casual liaisons focused more on one-night stands to scratch an itch. He could appreciate a beautiful woman, even desire one. But urgency was definitely a thing of the past for him.
Yet his body’s response to Willow had been all-consuming. If it hadn’t been awkward enough to curb him, they would still be in his big bed—a whole lot more naked than they’d been upon awakening.
He breathed through the sudden surge of his body, waiting until his response died down before making his way out the door and downstairs. Instead of the sound of crashing thunder, the rooms now echoed with the rumble of waves beneath the house. The sound was muted as he moved down the hall to the kitchen.
There he found Willow bent over, inspecting the contents of the fridge. His body pulsed, responding to the sight of feminine curves encased in still-damp jeans.
His body was happy.
His brain was not. This response was downright unsettling.
“What are you doing?” he asked, a little too gruff.
He felt bad about his tone when she jumped, bumping her ginger head into the lower edge of the freezer door. Her low moan made it worse, because it brought to mind things he shouldn’t be thinking about around her. He’d never had sex with anyone in Sabatini House since he’d become an adult. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her that he hadn’t slept with anyone. Though why those words had come out in that moment, he had no idea.
Just say what you need to say and get out of here.
But words escaped him as she turned to face him. Seeing her in full sunlight was like living color compared with the black-and-white of last night. Willow had the classic pale skin of a redhead with just a fine dusting of freckles across her cheeks. She had emerald-green eyes, which was what he favored for the female characters he wrote about, but in person hers were so vibrant. She was tall for a woman, just as he’d noticed last night, but now he could see all the sexy curves he hadn’t had a chance to truly savor this morning.
He cleared his throat, glancing out the window behind her to steady himself. Which wasn’t as effective as looking seaside. That would have reminded him of exactly why this woman was off-limits to a man like him. But at least the view of the barren hill leading to the gates below calmed the resurgence of desire that thrummed through his veins.
As if his silence was an invitation, Willow jumped right in. “I’m just checking to see what the inventory is like.” Crossing to the island, she picked up a pen and tapped it against the pad of paper lying there. “The landline is still out, but when we can get through, here are some places I’ll call about the roof and repairs—with your permission, of course.”
Though he’d prefer to direct this discussion himself, focusing on action was a very good idea right now. “Why wait? I’ll get the satellite phone from my office.”