by Amy Andrews
…
Addie wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke, but she was aware of three things. She was teetering on the edge of the bed. She’d kicked the sheet off at some stage and was feeling a bit cool. And there seemed to be an awful lot of light for…she squinted at the clock. Two thirty in the morning.
Half asleep, she rolled over to discover Nathaniel on the other side of the bed, on his back sound asleep, not a snore to be heard. The bedside lamp was blazing and the book she’d given him was open on his chest.
Her brain was too fuzzy to get pleasure out of the knowledge. Or out of the pure beauty of his slumbering male physique. On auto-pilot, she crawled across the bed, reached over the top of him, and switched the light off.
She broke out in goose bumps as the heat he was generating fanned over her skin. He felt like a hot water bottle and in her semi-drowse, the primitive urge to be warm, to snuggle up to him, was a powerful force. But something nagged at her and she resisted the temptation.
Just.
She settled instead for pulling the sheet up over them and moving in just close enough to benefit from some radiant heat. And, like an experienced tanner soaking up sunbed rays, she drifted back to sleep.
The next time she stirred she was blissfully warm, cocooned in heat, surrounded by solid warmth. Warmth down her spine, at her neck, against her belly, along the backs of her thighs.
She sighed, murmured, wiggled.
Snuggled into the heat a bit more.
For five seconds.
Then was wide, wide awake.
Nate.
And his five a.m. wakeup call.
Her first instinct—to leap up from the bed as if it had caught fire—hit a snag when she realized she was imprisoned by an arm slack but solid in the throes of slumber. The last thing she wanted to do was wake him and have him find her—find them—in this compromising position.
Good Lord, in this old-fashioned room, it would probably necessitate an instant marriage proposal to save her reputation.
She eased slightly away but Nate shifted in his sleep, pulling her closer.
She lay still for a moment, her heart pounding, her breath sounding like a tornado in the pre-dawn silence, trying not to think about his erection snuggled against her bottom.
Although “snuggled” was far too passive a word for the rigid length of him.
Potent. Rampant. They were good words.
Ready was another.
Heat flared to life at the juncture of her thighs. How long had it been since she’d been in bed with a man. Five, six months?
She shifted her hips slightly, angling herself against him as the slow burn picked up pace. His girth pressed against the crutch of her underwear and it felt heavenly, the delicious friction licking flames higher to where his hand rested on her belly and furling along muscles and nerves.
She rocked—just a little. Just to relieve the ache.
She felt a faint movement of his hand on her belly and she stopped, her breath husky in the breaking light, her pulse tripping like a faulty switch. She bit into her lip, her senses straining to detect any signs of his waking.
She barely breathed for a full minute but her brain was busy castigating. What was she doing? Had she temporarily lost control of her senses? Rubbing herself against a sleeping man just wasn’t on. It was morally questionable.
Probably illegal.
Definitely icky.
But why oh why did bad things always feel so damn good?
Just once more, she promised herself as she pushed back into him again.
“Addie, I am not made of stone.”
The rumble in her ear, the firm press of his hand on her belly, the slight rock of his hips both shocked and tantalized.
He sure as hell felt hard as stone right this minute.
“Stop now,” he warned, low and husky, “or forever hold your peace.”
Addie froze, mortified. “I’m…”
What? I’m what? Depraved? Disturbed? Disgusting? How long had he been awake? How badly had she humiliated herself?
“Go to asleep, Addie.”
His lips brushed her neck, the rough buzz of his whiskers beading her nipples. She shut her eyes tight then moved to ease away from him. “No, I think I need to explain—”
His arm tightened around her halting her words. “Stop thinking,” he murmured. “It won’t be so bad in the cold light of day and at least I know your underwear is satiny now.”
In the cold light of day it would be ten times more embarrassing. She already wanted to sneak away before it got any lighter and never see him again. But damn it, if he could be nonchalant about a woman rubbing herself against his giant erection like it was a stripper’s pole, then so could she.
“Life’s too short for boring underwear,” she said defensively.
She swore she felt his lips smile against her neck. “I agree.”
…
Nathaniel looked up from the breakfast table when Addie joined them at eight-thirty. He grinned at her and she blushed. She had her hair back in some braid thing and was wearing faded denim jeans this morning that hung loose and low on her hips and a plain navy T-shirt that didn’t quite meet the jeans.
He’d had his hand on that strip of skin he could see. Held it there while she’d wiggled and squirmed against him. Just thinking about it got him hard again.
It hadn’t been what he’d expected—hell, developing a fascination with Addie was one complication he didn’t need—but there were worse ways to wake up.
“Here she is. Morning, my pretty,” Eunice boomed her welcome. “Nate said you were wide awake at five for a while, so we just let you sleep.”
Addie faltered as she sat down, glancing at him, and he winked at her as he said, “I do hope that itch I couldn’t quite scratch has settled. Darling.”
She shot him a wan smile before turning to his grandmother. “Happy birthday, Eunice,” she said, her smile genuine this time.
“Thank you, my dear.” Eunice beamed. “Born on the autumnal equinox eighty years ago.” She sucked in a mammoth breath and let it go. “Fills my pagan heart with joy.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes but then his mother was up fixing a vegetarian omelet for Addie and the three women chattered nonstop about the plans for the day.
“I’m just not sure we’ll have enough fairy lights,” Delphine fretted.
“How many have you got?” Nathaniel asked.
“Heavens, I don’t know. Thirty-two strings of twelve point eight meters each—”
“Four hundred and nine point six meters,” Addie interrupted. “There’s usually five lights per meter, which will give you two thousand and forty-eight lights. Oodles, I’d say.”
Silence descended upon the table as three sets of eyes blinked at her.
“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel murmured, forgetting for a moment that he was going to spend all day stringing almost half a kilometer of lights. “She does that.”
“Wow,” Eunice murmured.
“Impressive,” Delphine agreed.
Addie shrugged. “Sorry, I forget how much it freaks people out.”
“Not at all,” Eunice said, patting her hand. “Just remind me not to play cards with you.”
And then Addie laughed and his mother and grandmother joined in and the moment passed. Pretty soon he and Addie became separated as they pitched in to help with a party whose attendance list included everyone in the nearest three villages.
Sometime around midafternoon, he spied her sitting with his grandmother and Kathy on the terrace, weaving flowers into garlands and patiently playing a mental arithmetic game with them like a performing seal. She was refusing a glass of wine for the third time when he stopped at the top of the ladder to admire her for a minute. Every time she leaned forward, her T-shirt rode up and her jeans pulled nicely against her butt and he forgot all about her intimidating math genius as he was transported right back to five a.m.
He smiled to himself as he realized they had one
more five a.m. to go before their fake relationship weekend was over.
But those thoughts—along with a significant portion of his circulating blood volume—were going straight to his groin and when he was working with a drill up a ladder, he really needed to keep as much blood flowing to his brain as possible, so he tried to put them aside.
The next time he saw her was several hours later and she was greeting guests at the door. She was dressed in a flowing white lacy dress with a v-neckline that revealed the swell of her breasts, shoe string straps, and little buttons running right down the center from her cleavage to her hem. Her hair was out now, but falling in long, crinkly waves. A flower garland with ribbon tails flowing down her back crowned her head. Her crystal-encrusted necklace sitting at the base of her throat matched perfectly.
She looked like a wood sprite, like something from A Midsummer’s Night Dream.
Or a pagan goddess.
Very appropriate on the autumnal equinox.
“Here,” she said as he approached, handing him a garland. “One for you, too.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Ah, no. I don’t do flower garlands.”
She pushed it toward him. “You do tonight. Your grandmother was very specific about that. Shall I find her?”
He shot her a sarcastic smile. “Pulling the Grandy card, I see?”
Addie shrugged and everything shifted nicely in her dress. “I know your soft spots.”
He watched as her smile faded and he didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that it wasn’t his soft spots she was thinking about. “Fine. I’ll wear it. But only for Grandy. Shall I get you a glass of wine?”
Addie shook her head as she smiled at the next couple through the door, handing them their garlands. “I don’t drink. I’ll grab some water when I’m done here.”
He blinked. He’d seen her refuse several today but he figured that had something to do with the early hour rather than being a teetotaler. “You don’t drink?”
Her laugh fluttered around him, reminding him again of some woodland fairy. “I gave it up a couple of years ago. Along with meat.”
“Because of the leukemia?”
Even saying it made him feel ill. She was so vibrantly alive in front of him—it was hard to believe she’d come out the other side of a terminal illness. He remembered her saying she hadn’t quite had her five-year clearance and he felt a momentary spike of worry.
She nodded. “Just want to keep healthy.”
“Good.”
His grandmother’s voice called him from across the room and she smiled at him. “She wants to show you off. She’s very proud of you.”
Nathaniel nodded and excused himself, uncomfortable with that look on her face. He was used to it from his grandmother and mother, but not from her. Women looked at him with lust in their eyes and sex on their list. Addie didn’t. She looked at him like he had promise and she was the one who was going to bring it out in him.
He preferred lust and sex.
Their paths crossed on and off over the course of the night, but it wasn’t until people were starting to leave that he had a chance to share more than a few words with her. Addie had been popular and his grandmother seemed to be enjoying showing her off just as much she had him.
He found her standing on the terrace, the fairy lights playing in her hair and shining in the crystals of her necklace, talking to possibly the most boring man alive—Bill Hodges, who owned the farm next door. Fortunately, he was able to quickly dispense of the older man by telling him his very scary wife was looking for him.
Addie’s eyes looked glazed as she thanked him. “I didn’t think he was ever going to stop talking about his new effluent drainage system.”
Her lips had some glossy stuff on them that glittered in the subtle lights and almost made him forget the ache in his thigh from standing all night. “You sure you don’t drink? One conversation with Bill is liable to drive most teetotalers to liquor.”
As if they’d been organized to do so, Eunice and Kathy chose that moment to interrupt them with a bottle of Kathy’s elderberry wine and four glasses. “Now come on, you two,” his grandmother boomed. “Drink up. Don’t want to insult my dearest friend in the world, do you?”
“Thanks, Grandy,” Nathaniel said, smiling apologetically, “but Addie doesn’t drink and seriously, Kathy, real men do not drink elderberry wine.”
Kathy looked at him with an unwavering gaze. “You have flowers in your hair.”
Addie burst out laughing. “She has you there.”
“Here, dear, get this into you,” Eunice urged Addie, pouring her a glass. “It’s one hundred percent organic, isn’t it, Kath?”
Kathy nodded vigorously. “Always wins best in show, too.”
Addie looked at him and he could see she was wavering. “Okay, as long as you do, too,” she said to Nathaniel.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
A glass of organic wine once in three years wouldn’t bring the leukemia back, surely? But he didn’t blame her for being hesitant.
Addie nodded. “Just the one, though. I get flirty after two.”
Nathaniel grinned at his grandmother. “Better top it up a bit.” Addie laughed as she took a sip and actually gave him a playful shove.
Maybe it was working already?
“Here,” Addie said to Eunice, passing her the little gift bag he hadn’t noticed she’d been toting. “Nate and I got you something special.”
Eunice actually blushed and beamed at him. “You did?”
Nathaniel cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the deception. “Well—”
But then Addie interrupted. “I guided him a bit,” she said, smiling, and his grandmother looked so thrilled, he let it be.
They watched Eunice pull out the box and snap open the lid. Her delighted gasp grabbed at his gut. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered in her crackly voice as she fingered the earth mother. “Just perfect.” Then she ordered Kathy to put it on her.
Nathaniel smiled and leaned in to kiss his grandmother’s cheek. “Just like you, Grandy.”
Eunice gathered Addie up in her arms for a big hug and Nathaniel felt an odd shift in the vicinity of his heart. “Thank you, my duck,” Eunice said pulling away. “Now, I must show Delphine.”
And then she and Kathy disappeared and it was just the two of them. He looked down at her and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “The gift was a great idea.”
Addie gave a faux gasp. “What, better than a farm voucher?”
“Yes.” He grinned at her. “You were right.”
“Goodness,” she said, grinning back. “I feel like I should get that in writing.”
He chuckled. Bringing her hadn’t been the disaster he’d been expecting. In fact, he was enjoying himself. Hell, he couldn’t even recall thinking about work much at all today. And that was pretty much all down to this woman.
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight,” he said.
She nodded. “Eunice and Delphine have interesting friends.”
“Apart from Bill and his effluent.”
Addie’s laugh was high and he noticed she’d already drunk a hefty amount of her wine. She took another gulp as he watched. She seemed suddenly nervous.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
Addie nodded. “Yes. No.” She stared into the bottom of her glass. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. But I think I need some more Dutch courage—can you top me up?”
“Thought you got flirty after two?” he asked as he reached for the bottle he’d left on the ledge and filled her glass.
“I won’t drink it all,” she said, and then took a decent slug.
Nathaniel waited for a few moments as Addie fidgeted with the wine glass and consumed half more.
“I want to thank you for not…taking advantage of the situation this morning. I seriously do not know what came over me.”
Nathaniel took a decent slug of wine himself as his body took a walk down memor
y lane. “I don’t take advantage of women who are half asleep, Addie. I’m assuming you were half asleep?”
Addie nodded vigorously. “Yes…of course.”
He hid his smile behind his own glass as Addie took another swig of her wine. She’d been awake as he had. “Okay then. No harm, no foul.”
She seemed to sag a little at his words. “Thank you,” she said, and the relief in her smile was palpable. “Now, do you think we could never talk of it again?”
Nathaniel laughed. “Sure. Although I should give you fair warning. I can’t promise to be so gentlemanly again should you get horny at five a.m. tomorrow morning.”
Nathaniel watched the bob of her throat as she threw back the last of her second glass.
Chapter Seven
Two hours later, with the last guest gone and the cleaning-up taken care of, Addie collapsed back on the bed fully clothed. The room spun pleasantly and she shut her eyes on a happy sigh. “That was a bloody great party,” she announced.
Nathaniel’s chuckle settled around her and she opened her eyes to his, “I think you had too much elderberry wine.”
“That’s some bloody great wine,” she said pointing at him. “No wonder it wins the blue ribbon every year.”
He laughed again and she joined him. “And you have a great laugh,” she said. “You should do it more often.”
“I’m too—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Addie interrupted, propping herself up onto her elbows to locate him. He was standing by one of the wing chairs, his foot up on the arm, undoing his shoelaces. “You’re too busy”—she bugged her eyes at him—“to laugh.”
Nathaniel laughed again as he kicked off his shoes, and it went straight to internal muscles that were really getting a workout this weekend.
Who needed Pilates?
“I was going to say—”
“Important?” she suggested as he reached for the buttons of his very sexy open necked shirt that he’d rolled up to his elbow. “Rich?”
He grinned. “No.”
“Jaded?”
He made deft work of the buttons as he said, “You’re not very good for my ego, are you?”