Boy was that the truth. It would take him six months to pay off the flight. Her eyes widened as though she were surprised by the admission. “I can barely afford this apartment,” Caleb continued. “Besides, this arrangement makes sense.”
“To whom?” Lily shook her head. “Fine. Then you sleep on the couch tonight. I’ll get a hotel in the morning.”
Caleb’s frustration mounted. “Did you see my couch? It’s five foot five. I’m six foot one. Not gonna happen.”
“Then I’ll sleep on the couch tonight and—”
“And how do I explain to Mrs. P why my wife is sleeping at a hotel?” He ran a hand over his jaw. “You really aren’t mature enough to share a bed with a man? Or is it you’re afraid you’ll find me irresistible?”
“Oh, I can resist you, all right.”
“You don’t exactly have such a good track record, sweetheart.” He stepped closer and smiled as she stepped back until the back of her thighs hit the bed.
“That’s not fair. I was drunk. Besides, you weren’t doing much resisting either if I remember correctly.”
“What man in his right mind would?” Caleb’s cock swelled in memory or was it because of the woman before him now? He didn’t want to ponder that question.
Lily’s skin turned pink and he fought the urge to reach out and touch her. “You’re blushing.”
“I am not.”
What the hell? Caleb ran a finger down her cheek. Her skin was like velvet. She closed her eyes at the touch and suddenly he wanted to feel her naked flesh under his fingertips.
She reached up and took his hand, her eyes suddenly vulnerable. “I’d… I’d like to take a shower. It was a long flight and it’s late for me.”
“Sure, sweetheart. The bathroom is the door to your left when you first walked in the apartment.”
Lily unlatched the suitcase. “I have a name, you know.”
“I know.”
She rummaged through case, grabbed something and with a parting smirk, walked out of the room, her hips swaying in a tantalizing motion. It was going to be a long weekend indeed.
Lily stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock in the kitchen. Only eight thirty? Of course for her it was well past bedtime. She pulled her robe tighter and glanced at the couch where Caleb sat reading. It didn’t look any more comfortable since the last time she’d examined it.
You really aren’t mature enough to share a bed with a man. Caleb’s accusation still stung, but the thought of sleeping next to him, waking up next to him… Maybe he was right. She wasn’t mature enough. The idea sent shivers all over her body and not of dread.
She could still get a hotel, but she was so tired and Caleb had a point about Mrs. Patterson. If she was inquisitive enough to do a background check, she might check out where Lily was sleeping. Why did it matter to the woman? She sponsored his art, not his personal life. “Old bat,” Lily mumbled. Why couldn’t Caleb have a guest room? Why would she think he would?
“You could go to bed.”
Lily looked up to see Caleb staring at her, the book on his lap. She fought another yawn.
He stood and walked toward her, leaning on the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. He moved like a cat, all lean muscle and effortless grace. “I promise. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.” A half smile played on his mouth.
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“That’s not generally what you elevate, baby.”
“Funny.”
“It’s a king-sized bed. You could even roll a blanket between us or, what did they do in that movie, hang a blanket from the ceiling?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
He shrugged and then reached over the counter for her hand. “I appreciate this. I really do. I won’t take advantage of you. Scout's honor.”
“Were you a scout?”
Dimples formed under the stubble on his cheeks. He shook his head, eyes gleaming. “Nope.”
And just like that she believed him. I’m an idiot. “I think I will go to bed.” She stepped toward the short hallway leading to the room then stopped. “Um…what side do you usually sleep on?”
His lips turned in that sexy grin that made her legs weak. “The one you’re not sleeping on. I’m not picky.”
She nodded, hung her robe on a hook behind the door and pulled down the thick duvet. If she’d known she’d be sleeping with him, she would have brought something else to wear to bed. She glanced down at the T-shirt and boy shorts. Oh well, she wasn’t trying to seduce him anyway.
The smell of laundry detergent didn’t quite hide the rich masculine fragrance lingering on the pillowcase. This was Caleb’s bed. Did he sleep in briefs? In the nude? She rolled over on her stomach and closed her eyes. There was no denying the throb in her sex. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to. Arrogant bastard. She punched the pillow. Arrogant, gorgeous, sexy bastard.
She lay her head down on the cool pillow and breathed deeply. A few times over the years, she’d wondered if she was frigid. Although she enjoyed sex with Stewart and managed to orgasm—most of the time—she never craved his body. Never felt that heat of passion. Whatever kind of bastard Caleb was, he was the kind that turned her on instantly. That was both nice to know, and scary as hell.
Caleb stepped into the darkened room. He’d almost fallen asleep on the couch after all. The faint scent of Lily’s fragrance hung in the air. He fought a feeling of warmth, of belonging. He wouldn’t fall into that trap so easily. She wasn’t here to stay.
Lily lay curled on her side, her head resting on her arm. In sleep, her face appeared younger, peaceful. Dark lashes lay against her velvet smooth cheeks. Lily’s pink lips partially opened and she sighed in her sleep. What was she dreaming about? One arm lay under the pillow and the other stretched out toward where he’d be sleeping, almost like she was reaching for him. He was instantly hard, his dick throbbing with need. “Oh shit,” he whispered.
When he’d considered the sleeping situation, before Lily had arrived, he’d assumed it would be easy. It was a big bed, and he wasn’t a sex-maniac. He knew how to control himself, but the sight of Lily in his bed proved more erotic than he could have imagined. All he could think about now was pulling down those blankets and warming her with his body instead. His erection jumped hard against his jeans.
Caleb moved around the bed, watching as the light shifted on the planes of Lily’s face. She was breathtaking. Absolutely beautiful. For a moment, he considered grabbing a sketchpad, but dismissed the idea. He could barely focus. Caleb pulled off his shirt and threw it on top of the laundry basket, followed by his jeans. He grimaced at the erection tenting his briefs. “Sorry, boy. Not this time.”
With care, he pulled back the duvet and slipped into the bed. Cool sheets caressed his body and he couldn’t help but think of Lily’s warmth just a reach away. He turned onto his side, his back to her. Lily’s body might be in his bed, but Lily, the girl he thought he knew, was a dream he’d left in Vegas.
Chapter Four
Lily ran one hand over the hard muscled flesh of Caleb’s chest, the skin silky smooth beneath her touch. Her body tingled. It was as though her fingertips had become hyper-sensitive or her nerve-endings doubled, or maybe his flesh really was infused with electricity.
His warmth spread through her palm and up her arm to stoke the fire building in her core. The action was addictive. She wanted to explore every inch of the body lying next to her. She wanted it feel his hands on her. Flesh against flesh.
“Caleb.” It was only a whisper, but his muscles shivered beneath her fingers. Soft lips nuzzled her neck, sending chills of pleasure down her spine as desire warmed her belly. Why was I denying myself this again?
His lips moved down her body, trailing kisses over the hollow of her neck to her collarbone, leaving a fire in their wake. His tongue darted out to lick the rise of one breast and she arched her back, surrendering to his ministrations. Her fingers tightened, pressing into the firm muscles of hi
s back. Caleb didn’t hesitate. His hot breath blew against her nipple, hardening its pink crest until it ached. “Oh lick them, taste them, please.” A groan escaped her throat as his mouth descended, his lips soft, nibbling at the swell of her breast, trailing to its crest. He expertly licked her nipple before he took the tightened peak into his mouth and suckled.
Liquid fire spread through her body. His hands traced lower, over her waist, down her hips to tease her inner thighs while his lips abandoned the first nipple to torment the other. Lily drifted, lost in a world of pleasure and yearning for more. She pressed her hips toward his hand, wanting him to touch her, to take her over the edge…
The alarm went off.
Lily bolted upright, blinking away the images in the dream. She touched the still-warm, but empty, bed. It had been a dream, right? She glared at the alarm clock. Ten more minutes was all she’d needed to—
Oh, God. What am I thinking? Taking a deep breath, she attempted to dispel the desire burning through every nerve. Her heart still beat staccato against her ribs when Caleb walked into the room, a thin towel hung low over his hips and his hair wet from the shower
“So you’re up.”
Lily fought not to stare, but her gaze lingered on his abdomen, following the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the towel to the bulge of his sex.
“Are you okay?” Caleb asked.
Lily shook her head and met his eyes as heat warmed her body. Her fingertips remembered the feel of his skin. Her sex throbbed and need blazed in her core. “Uh, yeah. Strange dream is all.”
He shrugged and walked to the dresser, bending over from the waist to rummage in a drawer. Lily followed his movement with a hungry gaze as the towel rode up the back of his thighs. The muscles under the towel moved like well-oiled machinery.
She fought a sudden urge to walk across the room, yank the towel off and relive the dream.
“You were mumbling in your sleep.”
Cold dread partially doused her burning hunger. “I what?”
Caleb turned. “Mumbled. In your sleep.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” She swung her legs out of bed and almost tripped as her feet caught on the sheet. “What did I say?” Her attempt at casual came out more as a challenge.
“How should I know? You were mumbling.”
Lily took a deep breath. “Any hot water left?”
“Sure.”
Good. Not that I’ll need any. Nope, it was a cold shower she’d be having or her name wasn’t Lily McPherson…or was it? Oh my God, was it? “Did I, um, keep my last name?”
Caleb turned to her, his green eyes puzzled, and then he chuckled, low and would-you-do-that-again sexy. The sound sent ripples of desire through Lily’s body.
“Nope. Lily Anderson. Has a nice ring. You can keep it if you want.”
“No thanks,” she mumbled, staring at the water droplets beaded on his chest. She licked her lips before she was aware of the action. It was a poor substitute for licking the water off his skin. She glanced up and met his gaze. His eyes had darkened and he was looking at her, she imagined, the same way she’d been looking at him a moment ago, like something good to eat.
She swallowed. “I’d better get in the shower now.” She spun and headed toward the bathroom before she changed her mind.
Caleb leaned against the dresser, struggling to catch his breath. He watched her back as it retreated down the hall, but interposed on that image was Lily sitting in bed, the sheets pooled around her body, hair tousled from sleep and brown eyes glazed with desire. Had she woken up like that in Vegas three years ago, he’d never have let her out of the room. Hell, he’d never have let her leave the bed.
His erection pushed against the towel, urging him to go after her. The thought of Lily in the shower, her body slick and wet with water, slammed into him and he gripped the edge of the dresser, his knuckles whitening with strain. He’d lick the water off her shoulders, take those beautiful breasts into his mouth and suckle, driving her crazy with need before he dipped lower. He could almost feel her hips under his palms, taste her juices as he licked those slick folds, the memory of the honeyed flavor vivid in his mind.
He closed his eyes, then opened them to stare at his reflection in the mirror. God damn if he was going to go through the next few days with a permanent hard-on. She’d wanted him, he was certain, but how would she react if he did just walk into the bathroom and step into the shower with her?
Hands shaking, Caleb grabbed a clean pair of briefs and put them on. One thing he knew for certain, he couldn’t take another rejection. It wasn’t shock and horror he wanted to see in those liquid brown eyes. He stepped into a clean pair of jeans and took a deep breath. Self control. He could do this; it was only until Sunday morning. Piece of cake. He glanced in the mirror again, wondering when he’d started lying to himself.
Lily stared into her coffee cup and sighed.
“Is something wrong?” Caleb asked from across the small dinette table.
“No. It’s good coffee.” She took a sip and averted her gaze. Those kissable lips were just too close. She couldn’t help but stare. How could one man exude so much raw sexuality? Not only that, she’d come out of the shower to find fresh coffee and breakfast. She’d married a domestic sex-god. Business, Lily.
“We have lunch with Mrs. Patterson on Saturday. I leave at ten on Sunday, so what’s on the agenda for today?” She had a sudden thought. “What kind of lunch is it?”
Caleb stared over Lily’s shoulder.
“Caleb.”
He blinked and then focused on her. “Sorry.”
“What kind of lunch?” she repeated. He’d shaved and left his hair to down to frame his face. Her fingers itched to run through the silky tresses.
“The kind with food.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Are you going to eat that?” He pointed his fork toward her half-eaten pancake.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Concentrate. “There are many types of lunch. Do you have the invitation?”
“Um, yes.” Caleb stood, walked to the refrigerator, reached around the side, and came back with a wrinkled piece of cardstock and a magnet in his hand. He handed it to Lily before he sat back down.
The paper felt satiny under her fingers. This was some expensive card stock. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“It wouldn’t stick. Too heavy. So I ripped the picture off. Figured all I needed was the details.”
Lily shook her head and read the details. “Intimate lunch.” She closed her eyes, mentally reviewing the dresses she’d brought with her.
“That’s good right?”
She shook her head. “Intimate could mean just us or twenty of her closest friends. I might need to go shopping.”
“Why?”
“I think I forgot my black sling-backs.”
“I can’t believe you forgot anything.” He smiled, dimples softening the planes of his face.
“You want me to look nice, right?”
“Baby, you look good in anything.”
Lily fought the blush. “Thank you, but I don’t think the black flats will cut it. The only other dress shoes I brought are gold and I’m thinking silver jewelry.”
“Black sling-backs.” Caleb smiled over his coffee cup and forked the uneaten bite of pancake off her plate. “Doesn’t sound too hard.”
“Hey, stop that. I’m not done.” She swatted away his fork with hers and the tines clinked, knocking the disputed morsel back on her plate.
“Oh ’tis a fight she wants? Unguard.” He held his fork before him like rapier and put one hand behind his back.
Lily raised a single eyebrow. “For my pancake?”
“For country and pancake, yes.”
“It’s en garde, silly.”
“How the hell am I supposed to know what they say? They don’t teach fencing in public school.”
“They don’t teach it in most private schools either. Lucky for you, I’v
e had lessons.” Their forks clicked in staccato rhythm. Lily laughed. “You’re not half bad.”
“Fork champion of the west.” Caleb laughed.
“Ouch.” Lily dropped the utensil as the tip of Caleb’s fork pricked her finger.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
Caleb was around the table and holding Lily’s hand before she could blink. The scent of him washed over her, pinning her to the spot better than if he’d had a saber.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He knelt beside her chair, his green eyes worried.
“It…it’s okay. It’s not even bleeding.”
He picked up her hand and kissed the wounded finger. Their eyes met and he froze. Lily swallowed. Her body ached with need, for his warm, soft lips to kiss her again. “I was done anyway.” Her voice lacked strength.
Caleb didn’t move.
“The pancake. I was done anyway. Forfeit to the winner.” She extricated her fingers. “I’ll, um, go get ready.”
Caleb stood and backed up a step giving Lily room. She tried not to run into the bathroom, but her heart beat against her chest as though she had.
Once inside, she leaned against the door and took a deep breath. How could he make her feel so much with a single touch? Her fingers still tingled where his lips pressed against them. A surge of cream dampened her thong at the thought. Was it so bad that she wanted to have sex with Caleb? He was her husband. They couldn’t get any more entangled than that. She groaned as an image of tangled sheets magnified the throbbing between her legs. Oh, yes, they could. While in the shower, the memories of Vegas had begun to flash through her mind with aching clarity.
He’d slid onto the stool next to her, ordered a whiskey, no ice and then turned to ask, “What’s a nice girl like you doing in Las Vegas?” She’d laughed at such a corny line but it worked. They’d sat and talked deep into the night about everything. She’d never told anyone else about her dreams to sing, about her desire to see Paris, not as a tourist, but to prowl the side streets, to live there like a native. It had been more than talking, they’d bared their souls.
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