Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set

by Carly Phillips

  Pausing long enough to open his eyes, he watched her face as he further inflamed her senses. He ground his hips against hers.

  Her eyes glazed over. “More.”

  He grit his teeth against the combination of pleasure and pain and thrust himself against her welcoming body. She uttered a sigh and rotated her hips, causing him to curse the barrier of clothing that separated them. Then he closed his eyes and pushed deeper.

  His mouth never left hers, his tongue mimicking the erotic motion of their bodies. She rocked beneath him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. Their bodies fit together as one.

  Still separated by layers of clothing, they were both close to losing control. Mike hadn’t touched an inch of her skin, yet he ached to lose himself inside her. The thought amazed him. After everything she’d been through, she still... His mind cleared in an instant. His body, however, refused to cooperate and throbbed with unsatisfied need.

  He gentled his kiss in an effort to bring them down from the peak they’d almost reached. He wanted Carly, but on equal terms. With her needing him as much as he needed her. Giving and receiving comfort wasn’t a solid basis for making love.

  He allowed himself one last lingering kiss before pulling himself up and away from her soft, willing body.

  Seconds passed before Carly’s passion-fogged mind cleared. Two things became evident at once. She’d succumbed to the heat of desire, to the point of almost making love on her living-room floor. And she wasn’t the one who’d called a halt.

  Her entire body throbbed. Need pulsed through her, but she drew a ragged breath and forced herself to relax. She looked at Mike. His head rested on bended knee and he studied her with a pensive expression. His golden eyes betrayed none of his inner thoughts. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to know them.

  Carly recognized Mike’s withdrawal for what it was—another rejection in a day fraught with them. She might have been the one to break things off with Peter, but in admitting his affair, he’d all but rejected her, declaring her worthless in his eyes.

  She had the sinking notion that no one would ever love her enough to put her first. Her father hadn’t cared enough to put his family before his mistress. Her fiancé had always given his career and lover higher priority. And Mike, the one person with whom she’d felt a solid connection, had rejected her twice. First by keeping silent and again by pushing her away.

  And she would have slept with him anyway. Embarrassment flooded her, cooling her passion faster than an icy shower. “I’m sorry,” she said, standing as she spoke. “But congratulations. You proved your point. I couldn’t have been in love with Peter and I have no self-restraint when it comes to you.” A lot that said about her moral fiber, she thought.

  Mike groaned. “That wasn’t the point I was trying to prove.” He leaned back, propping himself up on both elbows.

  “Why else pull back? Heaven knows I wouldn’t have stopped you.” Self-loathing filled her voice, directed at both her actions and the question she’d just voiced. He didn’t need to know that his rejection bothered her.

  “What happened just now”—he gestured back and forth between them—“that was about you and me. No one else was in the room. No one else was between us.”

  “I know,” she whispered, remembering the way she had writhed beneath him. The shame of her wanton response burned inside her.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Mike said in a husky voice.

  “Like what?” Turning from the heat of his stare, she attempted to straighten her rumpled robe.

  “Like you’re afraid of me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid of what you make me feel,” she admitted. Afraid of who you make me become.

  “Don’t be. Because the next time will make this one pale in comparison, I promise.” His eyes raked over her body. Beneath his heated gaze she felt naked and exposed.

  He rose at a leisurely pace, a man comfortable with himself and his sexuality.

  “There won’t be a next time.” She tightened the sash around her waist, turned and stepped back before he could crowd her personal space.

  But he anticipated her reaction and grabbed for the material of her robe. He pulled her backward until she leaned against the hard contours of his body. “Yes, there will. But next time you’ll want me, not just comfort.” His warm breath fanned her ear.

  If he only knew how much she wanted him... even more than she’d sought solace in his arms. But she closed her eyes and let his words sink in.

  He assumed there’d be a next time. Because she’d been eager and willing, despite his betrayal, he’d assumed all was forgiven. Carly didn’t know who she was more furious with, Mike or herself.

  Because she wanted to believe in him. Wanted to trust that he desired more from her than just hot sex. Though it couldn’t change things between them, she needed to believe they shared more than just passion. Because when that passion flared, a living, breathing monster came alive. It brought the past to life and caused her to doubt the present.

  He pressed a gentle kiss against her neck. She trembled against the feather-light touch. “Just go, Mike.”

  “Will you be all right?” he asked, obviously resigned.

  She nodded.

  “I thought so.” He gathered his damp clothing from the floor. “You’re strong, Carly Wexler,” he said before disappearing into her bathroom.

  “But not strong enough to resist you,” she murmured to the empty room. She leaned against the nearest wall, closed her eyes and forced air into her lungs. She couldn’t resist the man whose omission had hurt her more than her fiancé’s affair. She shook her head and breathed in deeply once more. No sooner had she drawn another breath than the bathroom door swung wide open.

  “What are your plans now that you’re officially unengaged?” he asked. He’d changed back into his damp jeans and working boots. His black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and back.

  “Are you sure you want to go home like that?”

  He grinned. “It’s either the wet look or I leave half-naked and barefoot. Your choice.”

  When he focused his smile on her, nothing else in the world mattered. She could almost forgive him anything. “Go with the wet look. The neighbors don’t need a free show.” But go, she thought silently.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Your plans.”

  Obviously she couldn’t get rid of him easily. If he sensed her need to be alone, he didn’t show it. She hadn’t had a chance to give her future much thought. But perhaps now that she had the time as well as her freedom, she ought to try. “I really don’t know. I need to get away.” The truth surprised her, as much as the fact that she’d spoken the words aloud.

  “Anyplace special?”

  No place she’d share with him, but she had an idea in mind. Someplace where she could be alone to learn about herself and what she wanted out of life. A place far from Mike and his charismatic influence, she thought. “No destination in mind,” she said, forcing a smile.

  “One minute you’re planning a wedding, the next a vacation. You go with the flow. I like that in a woman.”

  She couldn’t see pointing out that until now her rigid schedules and plans had ruled her life and kept her sane. She was on a wild free fall now and had no idea where she would land. The thought frightened her. He might like that carefree way of life, but she didn’t.

  He closed the gap between them and reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. She shook her head. “I’m okay.” His touch would be her undoing. Both emotionally and physically she wasn’t strong enough to resist him right now. She needed to keep her distance.

  “I know.” He lowered his hand to the side. “How will you keep busy?” he asked, as if understanding that she needed a mundane subject change.

  “School is out, my column is in reruns and I’d planned on using the summer to write my bo
ok. I can work anywhere with a computer.” She fingered her still damp bangs.

  “Maybe someplace with a beach,” she said, thinking aloud.

  “Sounds therapeutic.” He spoke as though his mind had escaped elsewhere.

  “True. My life has just been thrown a curve. A vacation might get it back on track.”

  “Makes sense.”

  She nodded.

  He offered no response.

  An uncomfortable silence surrounded them. She glanced at him, her gaze drawn to the taut muscles in his arm, then the wide expanse of his chest. In her mind, she was back on the floor, Mike’s firm body pressed against hers. This time, her lips tasted bare skin.

  He cleared his throat

  She blinked and her eyes met his. Amusement etched his features. A wide smile told her she’d been caught. She raised her hands to her flaming cheeks.

  The safest move would be to get him out of her apartment. Once he left, he’d be out of her life. And she refused to analyze her feelings on that subject just yet.

  She walked past him and headed toward the door. His footsteps sounded behind her. She placed her hand on the doorknob and turned.

  “I can take a hint, however subtle.”

  She turned toward him. “Good. Then no hard feelings and good night.”

  “Get some rest and try not to dwell on anything too upsetting.” He grasped her hand in his, entwined their fingers and caressed her palm with his thumb.

  What should have been a casual gesture heated her senses. A flicker of warmth began deep inside and radiated throughout her body. Through sheer force of will, she didn’t pull away.

  He brushed her knuckles with his lips. “ ’Night Carly. Sleep tight.”

  He might as well have said dream of me, since she doubted she’d do anything else. “ ’Night, Mike.”

  She shut the door behind him, knowing in her heart that it was for the last time.

  * * *

  Mike knew he was taking unfair advantage. He knew Carly wanted to be alone. Yet he sensed deep pain beneath the surface, hurt that went way beyond a broken engagement. And he believed that pain could be traced back in time. Although he couldn’t be the man in her future—he had too many scars of his own and a lifestyle she couldn’t understand or accept—he wanted to be the one to help her heal and move on.

  He’d deal with his own pain of losing her later, when he’d pulled his life together and was back wandering the globe on assignment. He knocked and let himself into her father’s office. Roger Wexler rose from his desk. “Good to see you, Mike.”

  “I appreciate you fitting me in, Mr. Wexler.” He shook the older man’s hand.

  “Roger. And it’s no problem. What can I do for you?” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk and waited for Mike to sit before lowering himself back into his own seat.

  “Carly mentioned she was going on vacation. The beach sounds like a good place to recuperate.” Mike was acting on a hunch, but he had no other leads.

  Roger nodded and leaned forward on his elbows. “Sure is. We’ve spent a month at that beach house every summer for the past twelve years or so.” The man’s eyes narrowed, his curiosity evident. “Why?”

  Mike wondered how much to reveal. Gazing into the older man’s eyes, he opted for the truth. Too much in the way of lies had passed between this man and Mike’s family. “One reason is a photo layout I’m doing for a local paper. I need a place to stay while I research the area and take some pictures.”

  “And the other reason?”

  Mike cleared his throat. “Your daughter.” Uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, he pushed himself up from his chair. He paced the plush office, admiring the view and the furnishings.

  Despite the fact that this man was a lawyer, his office held a warmth that surprised him. The place reminded Mike of Carly. She obviously had more in common with her father than he’d realized. More than she wanted to admit

  “I see,” Roger said.

  Did he? Did the older man understand how Mike felt about his daughter, or did he put him in the same category as his brother? Mike shoved a hand beneath his blazer, into the back pocket of his jeans.

  “Mr. Wexler...” Mike paused. How did one overcome the sins of one’s brother? And did he have that right considering his intentions were good but not long-term?

  Roger rose and met him in the center of the large room. “I’m not going to judge you based on Peter. And in case he didn’t tell you, I’m not going to judge his work based on his action toward Carly.”

  “I haven’t spoken to Pete.” Mike had left the apartment early each morning and returned late at night. Until he’d come to terms with what his brother had become, he wasn’t ready to deal with him. At least not yet.

  “Well, I was all set to toss him the hell out. Until Carly begged me not to mix business with her personal life.”

  Mike should have been surprised, but he wasn’t. Carly was too sweet for her own good. He met Roger’s assessing stare. Brown eyes, the same warm eyes he’d looked into last night stared back at him.

  “He’ll have to work hard to keep his partnership. And right or wrong, I’ll be watching him. One slip and I’ll do everything in my power to have his partnership revoked.”

  The older man let out a sigh, one that seemed old and overdue in years. “Whatever else I may have done, I do love my daughter.”

  “I believe that, sir.”

  Roger nodded. “Back to you. You went after her last night. Is she okay?”

  He obviously hadn’t heard anything personal from Carly. The thought saddened Mike. And something in Roger’s tone caught Mike’s attention. Called to him, in fact. He’d bet the question hadn’t been an easy one for the older man to ask.

  “As well as can be expected,” Mike said. “She’s hurt. Feels betrayed.” He shook his head.

  “She’s known too much of that.”

  “I wouldn’t know, sir.” Mike thought the older man deserved to know that Carly had kept family secrets buried.

  Her father walked over to a group of framed photos on his desk. Picking up one in a small silver frame, he frowned. “Too damn much,” he muttered.

  Mike didn’t know what else to say. Asking for an explanation felt like prying. Although he now realized the person who hadn’t put Carly’s needs first was her father.

  “May I?” Mike reached out a hand.

  Roger nodded. Enclosed in the small frame was a family photo of a younger Carly and her parents. Mike placed her age somewhere in her early teens.

  Since he hadn’t come from a typical family unit, family dynamics was unfamiliar terrain. But his years as a photographer had taught him to judge a picture by the body language of the subjects. Against the backdrop of a beach house and the ocean behind it, Roger stood, his hands at his sides. His wife leaned away from him, one hand around his waist, the other on her daughter’s shoulder. Carly smiled for the camera, but her expressive eyes betrayed an inner unhappiness. This photo displayed the family Mike had seen at dinner the other night. Had things once been different?

  “Nice,” he said, handing the picture back to the older man.

  Roger shook his head. “Some things in life you can’t undo,” he murmured, obviously caught in another time. He cleared his throat. “Well. You said you need a place to stay in the Hamptons.”

  Bingo. “Yes. I figured you’re familiar with the area. Hotel, motel, whatever. Nothing fancy.”

  In silence, Roger studied him through narrowed eyes. Finally he spoke. “Okay.” He walked over to his desk, pulled a sheet of paper from a Lucite tray before grabbing a pen and beginning to scribble. “Here’s a list of decently priced hotels and motels near the beach.”

  Grateful, Mike reached across the desk and accepted the paper, fingering it between his thumb and forefinger. “I appreciate it.”

  “Good. There’s something you can do for me in return.”

  “Name it.”

  “Don’t hurt my daughter.” Rounding the
corner of the desk, Roger eased himself into his chair.

  Uneasy, Mike shifted his stance. “We’re friends and I think she could use one right about now.” Mike didn’t want the older man misinterpreting his long-term intentions toward Carly. He was only around to help her through a rough patch in her life, not to be a part of it later on. His gut twisted painfully.

  “I think you’re right. And she won’t take comfort from me or her mother. I’m glad someone else cares enough to give it to her.”

  After he and Roger talked a little longer and the older man had given him additional beach information, Mike rose from his seat. He shook Roger’s hand and walked into the hall.

  He paused, debating the merits of speaking with his brother. His own anger hadn’t yet subsided. Any discussion would only widen the rift between them. He’d deal with Pete before he left the States, but not now.

  As he headed for the bank of elevators, the burden of Roger’s words weighed heavily. The older man trusted him despite the actions of his brother. He trusted him with his only daughter.

  But Mike couldn’t live up to that trust. Not completely. Because though Mike wanted to be with Carly, to help her through the rough times, he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t be there for the long haul.

  SEVEN

  Carly let herself in to the meticulously clean beach house. Nothing had changed since her parents first bought the place over ten years ago. The white cabinets and Wedgwood blue trim gave the illusion of a cheerful home. Growing up, knowing the farce her parents lived, Carly had found this room depressing.

  Not so today. The house hadn’t changed. Had she? Since the purpose of this vacation was self-discovery, she was about to find out. She’d taken care of ending her engagement, returning gifts and notifying friends and family before arriving, enabling her to come with an upbeat attitude. The airy kitchen, skylights and bright decor genuinely pleased her. The ringing of the phone brought her out of her musings.

  Her mother’s voice greeted her. “I just wanted to make sure you got there okay.”