“I thought a woman as sexy as you would have a world of experience.”
“You thought wrong.” She sat, her hip still touching his. Her eyes meeting the Arctic coldness of his.
“I wish I would have known.”
“So you could have brought someone else to this island, to your bed?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m not like Claudia or your other lovers? Because I’m frigid?”
“Who the hell told you, you’re frigid?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I suck in bed.” She bit into her lower lip. “I didn’t want you to toss me out.”
“Ava, I wouldn’t have tossed you out. And for the record, there is no way in hell you’re frigid. If anything, you are too hot.”
Her mouth dropped in shock. “Too hot? What do you mean?”
“Nothing. There is nothing wrong with you. But I’d bet my company that there was something wrong with your last lover.”
She stared into his eyes, making sure he spoke the truth and didn’t find any countering evidence. Something deep in her stomach buzzed. There was nothing wrong with her. Joel was a man who would know and that thought freed her. It made her hungry for him. She grinned and started to kiss his jaw and wrap her arms around his neck.
“I like you, Joel.”
“You like me?” he asked, untwining her arms and pulling from bed. Her words obviously bothered him. “Are you hungry?”
“Sure, but not for food. Come back to bed.”
But he didn’t. His face had turned back to expressionless marble. His arms tightened around his broad chest as if he needed another wall to keep her out. Whatever closeness he’d felt for her was now a filed-away memory.
“Why are you pulling away?” she asked. “Are you afraid of getting close to me?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”
He shrugged. “Never going to happen. Love screws everything up.”
She was close to something important, some dark secret, the back of her neck tingled with the knowledge. “What did being in love screw up for you?” she asked.
“Nothing. It’s time for lunch. I’ll call the staff.” And away he went.
Yep, he was hiding something, all right, but whatever it was, she wasn’t going to uncover it. That damned secret of his was just that, his.
Why the hell had it been so important for her to probe?
He didn’t want their relationship to grow, and he didn’t want to be in love with her. The fact he ran from her question was a clear signal they had no future. He didn’t even want her close enough to be a friend.
One week of meaningless sex that was what she was here for.
For a moment there, when they’d been wrapped in each other’s arms, he’d been part of her, he’d healed her, and it had seemed like she’d connected to him in some soul binding way.
But in the light of day, he gave her his broad back, retreating to order lunch.
Proving she’d been suffering from an intimate illusion. Biology and sex hormones had tricked her into thinking he was the one.
That wasn’t possible. He wasn’t what she wanted. He wasn’t an open book, and he wasn’t willing to love her. He was exactly who he’d promised he’d be, a good sex partner. That’s all.
She hadn’t come for more, and she wasn’t deluded enough to believe she could change him. She’d just become confused after mind-numbing passion. Now it was time to become unconfused. She untangled her legs from the sheets and headed for the shower.
Get a grip. Leave the questions. Focus on the island and the physical man.
That’s how she’d accomplish her goal of having fun without falling in love.
Afterward she’d fly home, where she’d forget about Joel Stanfield, once and for all. And get on with her life and her plans. The ones that didn’t involve secretive males, neutered of emotion.
When this trip was over, Ava would be done with Joel Stanfield. End of story.
Chapter Eight
Ava’s head slumped forward in the plane’s seat. She finally gave in and fell asleep after his jet reached cruising altitude. They were on their way back to the city. Seven days had flown by.
Joel rubbed at his jaw and let his eyes drink in the way her features softened in sleep. Her lips parted as if welcoming his kiss.
He’d love to taste her again but she needed the rest. He could tell from the way she’d snapped at him this morning while they’d packed, she was exhausted from the swimming and love making and never sleeping.
They’d filled the trip with lounging in the sun, snorkeling, and talking about nothing personal. At night, Joel would reach for her, and they’d made love until their bodies gave out.
But afterward he’d force himself to turn his back, and she’d turn hers. A shard of glass sank into his gut because he knew he wasn’t being a great lover. He should have held her and whispered endearments, not pulled away. She deserved more.
Maybe he shouldn’t have kept her at Stanfield Cay the entire seven days.
But she’d given him the best sex of his life.
And what had he given her in return? His icy cold shoulder.
Making love with her had touched him in a way he’d never have predicted. Being with her was like being with no other woman. Ava made him feel like she belonged to him. And worse she’d made him start to feel. To care.
When he thought of how her last lover had made her feel inferior, every protective instinct in him came to life.
That was why he’d been such an ass. Why he’d had to shove her away.
Maybe it would have been better if he’d have severed ties after the first night. But he ached for her. And he’d hoped if he spent the entire week with her, his hunger would finally be satisfied.
Big mistake. Now his body growled with a limitless need.
It was good they were going their separate ways today. Better to cut it off now. He was not what she needed. She wanted a man who’d fall in love with her, and he couldn’t. He’d lost too much to ever want to expose himself to that kind of vulnerability again.
Ava groaned in her sleep. Her brow scrunched as if she were uncomfortable. She mumbled something that made no sense.
He reached over, took off her headphones, and switched off the cabin’s movie. Then he scooped her against him, reclined his chair, and laid her head on his chest. She sighed and snuggled closer. She fit him, her soft curves were made to hold his hard lines.
Something inside him relaxed as he smoothed the silk of her light brown hair. He frowned. He should carry her to the back bedroom and settle her in there, by herself. He should quit stroking her back and head.
But he knew he couldn’t. He was too greedy. He wanted to savor her, to drink in her feminine vanilla and citrus scent, to have her silk hair tickle his neck, to feel her breasts cushion against his chest. One last time.
He wanted to hold her just a little while longer, before they landed, and he’d have to force himself to let her go.
****
“I’ll have another,” Joel told the bald bartender. He watched as the man poured him a scotch.
Right after Joel dropped Ava off at her apartment, he’d called Lance and asked him to meet at the bar closest to Lance’s penthouse. Lance agreed without hesitation.
“You sure you want that, Bud?” Lance slid the drink away before Joel could touch it. “I’ve never seen you throw back three in a row, let alone four.” Lance was still nursing his first.
“I can handle them.” He grabbed the drink back.
Lance shrugged and allowed Joel the dulling alcohol. Not that it was working yet. Unwanted feelings, like guilt and longing kept rising up in him. Maybe he just wasn’t drunk enough.
“I can’t believe you let Ava go.” Lance shook his head.
“What else was I supposed to do? Propose?”
“You’re inhaling scotch. The only time you drink like this is
on the anniversary of Elizabeth’s death.”
Losing Elizabeth, the love of his life, had wrecked him for a long time. There had been days he couldn’t even move from bed. Lance had come over every night to grieve with him, after his friend had put in a full day at Joel’s office.
He couldn’t imagine what his life would look like without Lance’s support. Even with the help, he’d barely crawled out his hole of grief and despair.
“Leaving Ava today was the right thing.”
“No, you care about her. If you allowed yourself, I think you could fall in love.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“You need to go back to her. There’s obviously something there or you wouldn’t be so messed up.”
“It’s a temporary thing,” Joel said.
“Only because you don’t allow it to be more.”
Joel didn’t say anything, just swallowed half of his drink. Let it burn down his throat.
“You need to move on. Elizabeth wouldn’t like to see what you’re doing to your life. The way you lock yourself in your office and run away. You should be finding the right woman. Raising a family.”
“Okay, I’ll call Claudia then.”
“Claudia?” Joel laughed a hard laugh. “She can’t give you what you need. You don’t love her. You never will.”
“And that’s a good thing.” Making love with Ava and being drilled with all those unwanted feelings hadn’t changed anything.
Because of the loss he’d suffered, he didn’t want to fall in love or have children. And he knew with Claudia’s iceberg coldness there’d be no danger of that.
Joel was thirty-six years old. He’d done everything he’d set out to do in business. He was a billionaire, who wanted a companion to share his bed and his social calendar. Someone who would be there when he wanted her and make no demands on his life when he didn’t.
“Whether you like it or not, Ava’s working her way into your heart,” Lance said.
Joel couldn’t allow it.
If he spent enough time away from Ava, and if he was busy with Claudia, surely any growing feelings would shrivel and die.
Chapter Nine
Alexander Lawrence the Fourth held Ava’s chair. “Did you enjoy the carriage ride?” he asked. He walked around the table and sat across from her.
Tonight he’d arranged a romantic horsedrawn carriage ride through Central Park, which dropped them at an exclusive restaurant with a sparkling city view. It was a month later, Ava was back in New York and back to dating the latest “perfect man” her sister Bethany, Manhattan’s Matchmaker, had set her up with.
“No, it was truly terrible. Not at all romantic.” She flashed him a teasing smile.
“I’m glad I impressed you.” He said returning her grin. Everything about the man impressed her. He was gorgeous, rich, and best of all he was as successful as he was honest. He’d told her his past, right up front, and told her he wanted the same things in life.
And Alexander was a gentleman. She’d dated him every night since the night she’d arrived back, and it wasn’t fair—she still compared him to the louse who’d taken her to his island, set her ablaze, and then dumped her.
But she knew, given enough time, she could fall in love with Alexander. He could make her forget the icy mega-male Joel Stanfield. Her sister was good at what she did, match-making was in her blood. This time Bethany had gotten it right.
Ava watched a French waiter uncork a bottle of champagne, then fill two flutes before he dashed away.
“Ava, since the moment I met you, I felt something I’ve never felt before. You are intelligent, you are strong, you are it. You’re the woman I want lying in my bed and sitting at my breakfast table. Ava Carson, will you do me the honor of being my wife?” Alexander’s strong baritone broke with emotion.
This was it. This was what she wanted. For thirty days they’d been inseparable. He’d taken her to museums, they’d watched movies on his couch, and had dinner dates. All because they wanted to see if they were right for each other. She’d learned she could talk to him and they were compatible. Their views were the same on politics and religion, and they both wanted to marry and have a big family.
Now Ava knew the man was the answer to her prayers. All she had to do was reach across the table, snap up the proverbial ring and answer with a resounding, “I will marry you.”
So why was her stomach revolting? Why had dizziness flung her out of balance?
“It’s beautiful. Just what I would have picked for myself,” she said. Now it was time for her yes. A threatening wave of queasiness grew until she covered her mouth and tried hard to swallow it down.
“We can get married in the summer. I know it’s only three months away, or we can wait and have a fall wedding—”
She swallowed. Her eyes stung with the effort of delaying her nausea. “Excuse me.”
Without saying yes and without looking back, Ava raced to the ladies’ room in a blur, praying to God she’d get there in time.
She was lucky. The sickness waited until she reached the first open stall. There she emptied the contents of her five-star, gourmet meal. Afterward she rested her throbbing head on the cool plastic seat of the toilet. She stayed there, unable to do anything else, feeling the world rock.
The nausea passed as soon as the food was out of her stomach. Ava washed her pale face and brushed her hair before returning to the table.
“You all right?” Alexander asked standing for her. He sat when she sat.
“Fine, I feel much better. Maybe something I ate didn’t agree with me.”
“You think it’s from here? I’ll call the head chef and complain.”
“No, it’s probably from breakfast or lunch. This place is too nice.”
“Are you sure it’s the food? If this proposal is too sudden, we can take it slower,” he said. He was such a good guy.
“No.” She reached across the table and took his hand. “I want to marry you. You can give me the life I want.”
“Yes, we’re perfect for each other.” Alexander said as he handed her the ring. She slid it over her knuckle and found it was too big. No problem, she’d take it back to the jeweler and get it sized this week.
“Let’s start planning our summer wedding.”
****
Ava pounded her alarm clock to stop its blaring for a third time. Then she felt guilt stab into her. She pried open a heavy eyelid and read it was already eight-thirty. She groaned.
If she didn’t pull her sleepy butt from bed, she’d be late, again.! She kicked the covers off.
The moment her feet hit the carpet, her head tilted and spun, but she forced her legs forward, toward the bathroom.
She’d been late for every dinner she’d had with Alexander. That wasn’t fair to him. He was such a great guy, she should be excited to see him. She should be early, waiting at the door, purse in hand and sweater on.
Each night before bed, she vowed to be on time. Alexander was always on time for her. Of course being the perfect man, Alexander understood her tardiness. As if being late was a female trait he expected to endure.
Ava slipped into the shower, her head still swimming. She yawned and decided she definitely needed more sleep.
She also needed a more supportive bra. Her breasts were tender as the shower pelted them. She hoped that meant she was about to begin her period. It was already a week late, but she tried not to get too excited. It had been late before, especially in times of stress.
But…
But…she’d never had a reason to think she could be pregnant before.
No. Not possible.
How many people got pregnant from one week of love making? And he’d worn a condom each time, he’d protected her. Okay, condoms weren’t one hundred percent, but she’d never met anyone who’d told her their condom failed. Or had she? Her mind was fuzzy today. Didn’t it take months to get pregnant?
Not always, her troubled mind whispered.
She shook her
head, sending light brown strands of hair into her eyes. She pushed them back and told herself it was okay. She just ate some bad food last night. That’s all.
Everything would be fine. She stepped from the shower and dried off. As she rubbed her towel over her body, she had to admit her stomach wouldn’t settle.
A nervous stomach. A marriage proposal. Of course, it made sense. Her stomach rebelled because she’d said yes to Alexander, and she’d ingested some bad food. That’s all. Bad food and change. Change was hard on everyone, even good change. Her body was reacting to the happy stress. Once she got used to it, her stomach would return to normal.
And her period was late. Like it had been late three months ago.
But what if she was…?
Ava dropped the towel on her toes and focused on her bare navel. A new life growing inside her? A life with Joel’s sharp, black eyes. With his dark hair and chiseled cheekbones. She trembled. The pregnancy test sat on the counter, where she’d left it last night, taunting her to find some courage to take it.
She inhaled a deep breath, grabbed the test, and unwrapped it. Before she could change her mind, she took it. Then she set a timer and watched each lethargic second tick by for twenty, long, agonizing seconds.
Her stomach flipped and flopped. She stared at the test until her vision blurred.
Pregnant? Her? The girl who planned everything, having an unplanned pregnancy? Impossible.
What would it be like to grow a baby inside her? To watch her body transform?
God, time inched by. Waiting for an answer that could change her entire life was excruciating. Her heart jumped against her ribs and started to pound.
What was she doing watching a stupid egg timer anyway? She was late to meet Alexander, her fiancé. They were having lunch with his parents to tell them of the engagement.
She should be getting ready. For once, she’d like to surprise him by being on time.
Only this test, this answer couldn’t wait.
A moment later, she opened her walk-in closet and stepped into a pair of black, pinstriped pants. As she pulled her favorite, peach silk blouse off the hanger the timer dinged. Her fingers convulsed, she dropped her shirt and galloped back to the bathroom.
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