Between The Sheets

by Jeanie London

  He opened his eyes to find April stirring against him, her face against his shoulder, her arm tossed casually across his middle and three generations of Holts and sundry in-laws crammed into the living room watching them.

  He knew the exact second April awoke, because her entire body tensed. Only, Rex had learned an important lesson. This time when she bolted upright, he neatly dodged her head, saving them both the pain and embarrassment of a public collision.

  “Time for dessert?” she asked, husky-voiced from sleep.

  Rex noticed a number of smiles, but his mother simply said, “Yes it is, dear. I hope you’re hungry.”

  She took April’s arm and led her through the crowd, shooting a scowl at Betsy, who’d opened her mouth, presumably to make some remark about them falling asleep together. Betsy returned the scowl but kept her mouth closed.

  Another Saint Patrick’s Day miracle.

  Rex watched his family escort April into the dining room, feeling no particular rush to follow. She’d been holding her own all day, seemed more calm and comfortable than he’d hoped. He was a good influence on her, Rex decided.

  And April was a good influence on him.

  They each brought something to the table and as far as Rex was concerned that’s exactly how a relationship should work. He hadn’t found this with any woman he’d dated before. Admittedly, he hadn’t spent much time looking, but he’d dated his fair share of women and he recognized it when he found it.

  He’d found it with April.

  When he finally made his way into the dining room, Rex saw that April had been placed in the seat of honor by his dad. He was struck by the sound of her laughter, the way her incredible eyes sparkled and her beautiful smile lit up the room.

  “Grandpa likes her, Rex.” Juliet appeared beneath the kitchen archway and pressed a mug into his hands.

  This was no small accomplishment and he took a swig of coffee, contemplated his dad and grandfather who were talking over each other with their separate versions of the Saint Patrick’s Day celebration the year Juliet had been queen of the parade. A celebration that had seen three hundred people crammed onto their property, along with the Shannon Rovers, a troupe of Irish dancers and the mayor.

  His mother and grandmother rolled their eyes good-naturedly but his sisters tried to interject reality into the tale.

  “Dad, you couldn’t get three hundred people in this house if you had a crane lift off the roof,” Deirdre scoffed.

  “The mayor spent most of his time in the kitchen with Mom and Grandma, sneaking spoonfuls of brim brack,” Theresa added.

  Through it all, April laughed, so beautiful he was content to stand there and watch her. His entire family, from his grandparents to Betsy, had welcomed her in their own way and she’d gotten past her nerves to respond with the warm charm that was hers alone, a charm that made it impossible not to like her.

  “I like her, too,” Juliet said, before going to sit on her husband’s lap to join the fun.

  As he watched her go, April lifted her gaze to his, a dazzling look that reflected her good mood and singled him out as if he was the only person in the room.

  They might not have discussed their feelings, or their relationship or what the future might hold, but the tender look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

  And Rex knew exactly what he wanted from April—a future of celebrations where she sat at that table by his side.

  14

  To: April Stevens (mailto:april@mooneyinvestigators.com)

  Date: 21 Mar 2003 10:02:54-0000

  Subject: Well-Earned Praise

  Brava, April!

  A job very well done! I just posted John to sing your praises and wanted to jot you a quick note of thanks. You provided me with enough documentation about Rex’s activities so I was armed to take on the board at our meeting this morning.

  They latched on to his unaccounted online activities as a cause for concern but I was able to counter with the surplus of proof you’ve provided that he’s conducting business on the up-and-up. Bottom line is they don’t have enough evidence to get a warrant to access his business files so they were just trying to bully me into submission. Thanks to you, I was able to sidestep this latest obstacle and buy both Rex and me some more time to do our jobs.

  You’re a dear and I appreciate all your help! And it was so very lovely to see you outside of Paula and John’s house. I’d like to make the effort to do this again once the dust settles after the launch. What do you say?

  Auntie Wil

  What did she say? April said this was plain stupid. Sure, she’d provided enough documentation about Rex to arm Wilhemina against the latest reports—reports she’d also provided that happened to throw suspicion on Rex’s credibility.

  April said this situation sucked, plain and simple.

  She’d just spent two of the most glorious days as a guest in the Holts’ home, squeezing incredible orgasms into a very tight schedule of family events and pretending that she actually belonged. Now they were back on the road—Denver this week—and reality was crashing down around her ears again.

  Wilhemina had only meant to thank her but how was April supposed to feel good about compromising Rex’s credibility? She’d known questions would arise when she’d sent the first report, of course, but it felt even more horrible now that she’d gotten emotionally involved with not only this man, but his family.

  Thou shalt not become emotionally involved with thy client.

  She should have listened. Could she have listened?

  No. Traveling the straight and narrow—had she been able to—would certainly have been the easiest road to take. But even now, knowing she’d leave after their fling, knowing her work had lost all credibility because of her choice, April couldn’t regret what she’d shared with this man.

  The only thing she could have done was to have refused this assignment. But she hadn’t, which meant another hard truth to face—John and Paula were right, she’d been hiding from life, avoiding the types of situations that required her to get out and face situations that might require her to stand up and say, “No.”

  Then again, if she’d stuck to her guns she would’ve never met Rex, would have never known orgasms, would have never glimpsed exactly what she’d want her happily ever after to be if she were anyone but April Accidentally.

  And now here they were, back together 24/7, without the benefit of that delightful family to sidetrack her from the fundamental truth that she’d gotten involved with this man when she shouldn’t have.

  She’d come to him to do a job and the kicker was that she was actually doing it more competently than she’d ever dreamed possible. Instead of feeling good that she was managing the job without screwing up, she felt like she was screwing up her whole life and any possibility of a happy future with this man.

  Not that there was much of a possibility for that. Rex hadn’t said he was interested in anything more than a good time.

  But she could dream about all the things she’d sworn out of her life forever—orgasms, a man to love, her very own family and a happily-ever-after. With Rex.

  Just as long as she didn’t forget that she would be leaving after their fling.

  A knock on the door jolted April from her thoughts.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” she asked Rex, who was still in the process of setting up his peripherals.

  He peered around a table leg. “No. Grab it, will you?”

  April nodded, already heading toward the door to find a young, spiffily uniformed hotel clerk with a package.

  “For Mr. Holt,” he said.

  She accepted the brown box, tipped the clerk and walked back into the dining area. “A package arrived for you.”

  “From StaticSaver Industries?”

  She glanced at the return address. “Mmm-hmm. Something you’re expecting?”

  To her surprise, Rex shimmied out from under the table, a vision of firm butt and sculpted thighs that his dress slacks m
olded to muscular perfection. “About damn time.”

  “Here you go.” She handed him the package, curious. “What is it?”

  “A surprise. Come sit with me while I open it.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he led her into the sitting room and pulled her down on the sofa with him. He sliced through the packaging tape with a Swiss Army knife and scattered foam peanuts all over the sofa and the floor. Grabbing the box, she held it steady before it tumbled off his lap and they had an even bigger mess.

  “Rex, what is it?” she asked again.

  He didn’t answer. He was too busy fishing out the contents and tearing off the plastic to inspect…

  “What are those?” They didn’t look like any kind of wristwatch she’d ever seen, and why on earth would he need two?

  “Perfect.”

  “They are?”

  “Yes.” He lifted his gaze at her, seeming awfully excited for a reason she hadn’t figured out yet. “They’re StaticSaver wrist straps. Not half-bad-looking, either. What do you think?”

  “Are you planning on taking up computer repair so you need to be grounded?”

  “No. I ordered them for you.”

  “If you’re planning on having me work inside your machine, I’d seriously rethink that. I’m not very good at—”

  “No, April.” He slid off the sofa and sank to his knees in front of her, an unexpected motion that made her stare as he dropped one of the wristbands into her lap and proceeded to grab her arm. “I don’t want you to work on my computer. I want you to wear these and see if they make any difference in how you feel.”

  She stared down at him, at the wristwatch-looking band he was fastening on her, not understanding what he wanted and not quite sure what she’d missed.

  “How do you think they’ll make me feel?” she asked.

  “Calmer.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Sitting back on his haunches, he met her gaze, the warmth in those dark eyes seeming wildly out of sync with the moment, with the funky-looking gifts that so obviously pleased him. But the caring in his expression touched the raw edges of her heart, and she found herself holding her breath, waiting expectantly.

  “I mentioned the project I conducted that got me interested in massage, remember?”

  She nodded.

  “That research foundation studies all sorts of stuff. I acquired data about massage as treatment for various ailments so the foundation could meet the requirements of a federal grant. One of the other areas of interest they study is Electro Hypersensitivity. I didn’t know much about it but what I did know got me to thinking that you might have it.”

  April could only stare, so surprised she wasn’t sure what to think, let alone what to say. “I don’t understand.”

  “Did you notice how sparks fly every time we touch?”

  His grin might have lightened the moment had her brain not been racing, attempting to comprehend the implications of what he was saying.

  “I didn’t put it together right away,” he went on. “You shocked me that first night in Atlanta when you handed me your computer cable and I remembered that the same thing had happened when we’d been introduced at corporate headquarters. I figured you were one of those ‘electric people.’ You know, the ones who can’t wear watches. I’ve been having our hotels provide antistatic mats to offset the effects around the equipment and it seems to work. You were on the mat the first time I tried to kiss you and we touched without a shock. And we seem to do okay if you touch me through my clothes first.”

  She must have looked stunned, because he smiled. Grabbing the remaining wristband, he fastened it around her wrist, telling her all about the scientist who ran the research foundation and how they’d discussed her symptoms and believed it possible that she suffered from this EHS.

  She wasn’t absorbing a tenth of what he was saying because she was still stuck on the fact that he’d been researching this ailment, which likely explained why he’d been sneaking out of bed at night to use his computer.

  To help her.

  “You told me you were high-strung but that may just be a symptom,” he said. “Harold invited us to the foundation so you can be tested. We’ll find out either way. If you do have EHS, there are devices to help minimize the effects, like these wristbands. What do you say? We can work it in while we’re in Phoenix.”

  What did she say? She couldn’t say a thing. She didn’t even know what to think. His every word was playing through her head in slow motion as she tried to comprehend that this condition might explain her nerves and her accidents.

  “I suppose that explains why my family blew through vacuum cleaners while I was growing up,” she finally said, shooting for casual and failing miserably. “My parents had the house rewired. Would have been a lot cheaper to give me another chore. I hated vacuuming anyway.”

  Her laugh sounded more like a sob. She couldn’t get past the fact that Rex had cared enough to research her symptoms, to formulate a game plan and buy her antistatic wristbands.

  No man would do this without caring, and not a little.

  But Rex couldn’t care for her because she was leaving when her job was done, she was slipping out of his life and leaving him with fond memories and a smile and no knowledge of why she’d really come. She was slipping away right now before she dissolved into a puddle before his eyes.

  Rex wouldn’t let her get away. Sliding his hands up her thighs, he held her down when she tried to scoot from under him.

  “What’s wrong?” Those dark eyes searched her face, the concern she saw there so much more than a man who wanted a good time. “I thought this would be a good thing.”

  “It is.”

  “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Rex recognized tears when he saw them and he was more than a little surprised by her reaction.

  She tilted her head so her hair fell forward to hide her face. “It’s just…you’ve been so…thoughtful.”

  Obviously thoughtful wasn’t a good thing.

  “No big deal, really. Ordered online. They weren’t that expensive. Will you come to the foundation to be tested?”

  She nodded, but even though she avoided his gaze, he couldn’t miss the two fat tears that rolled down her cheeks.

  “April, what is—”

  “Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head then pulled away and shot to her feet so fast she knocked him off balance.

  Rex fell backward and watched in amazement as she disappeared into the bedroom.

  Okay. Apparently he’d touched a nerve. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a mind reader and there was a lot more going on here than he understood. What bothered her about his buying her wristbands? He hadn’t actually thought of what he’d done as thoughtful. Practical, maybe. He’d had a suspicion so he’d followed up on it. What about that bothered April?

  He didn’t have a clue so he followed her into the bedroom, found her leaving the bathroom.

  She gave him a watery smile. “I’m sorry. I’m okay. Just getting hormonal.”

  Hormonal?

  True, they’d been together around the clock for weeks so hormonal had been bound to happen eventually. But her explanation came at him sideways. His sisters usually went into attack mode if anyone even hinted at PMS as the cause of anything other than the source of their superhero femininity.

  Despite April’s reassurance, Rex would have bet money that that there was a lot more than hormonal going on. She looked pale and worried and he had the almost overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be all right.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that. Not only was he uncertain what was really bothering her, but she’d retreated, emotionally and physically, and was hitting the double digits on the nervous meter if the way she mutilated that tissue was any indication.

  “Massage time.”

  “Thank you, but I couldn’t possibly tonight. You’ve given me a lot to think about. I wa
s hoping to get online and do a little research.”

  Again, Rex was struck by the impression that there was a lot more going on here. “I’ve already researched online and trust me there’s not much there. I’ll send Harold a post, though, to ask if he wouldn’t mind you surfing the foundation’s site. But I do think we need to talk about what’s happening between us, and you’ll be more comfortable if you’re relaxed.”

  “What’s there to talk about, Rex?” she asked. “We’re great. We don’t need to talk. We need to work.”

  He frowned. That was panic in those beautiful eyes.

  She forced an unconvincing smile. “We’ve got to go over tomorrow’s schedule for the Rodeo Collection. Come on. I want to try out my new wristbands.”

  She swept past without glancing up, but then she didn’t have to. The trail of mutilated tissue pieces she left in her wake told him everything he needed to know.

  April was comfortably ensconced in front of her laptop by the time he’d left the bedroom, puzzling through his next move.

  Buying her lame explanation didn’t even make the list.

  He glanced from her to the pullout sofa in the sitting room, presently displaying the sheet set of the week—the Rodeo Collection.

  Rope ’Em and Ride ’Em With Supple Leather Sheets Made From Doeskin, Calfskin and Suede.

  Rex went straight for the storage pockets.

  Though April presented a casual, I’m-just-working demeanor, she was clearly still on hyperalert, because he hadn’t gotten within five feet of her before she knew he was there.

  Turning around, she must have recognized that trouble was on its way because her eyes widened just as he covered the last few feet between them, slipped his arms around her and swung her up into his arms.

  “Rex!” She clutched at his neck to steady herself, but he didn’t reply as he sidestepped the love seat and deposited her unceremoniously in the middle of the pullout bed.

  She bounced once, all sleek curves and panty-hose-clad legs, before attempting to roll off the other side.