by Janice Lynn
She stared up at him. “No?”
“No.” Had his mouth moved closer to hers?
She licked her lips, nervously, yet even as she did so, she’d instinctively known his gaze would follow her movements. She wasn’t a fool, wasn’t imagining this chemistry between them. Truth serum, gullibility, whatever, the sparks arcing between them would light up lower Manhattan. “What do I make you feel, Vale?”
Great question and one Vale wasn’t sure of the answer to.
He wanted her. Which surprised him. Usually he was either instantly attracted to a woman or he wasn’t attracted at all.
With all women, he got what he wanted with little effort. Faith was different. He’d spent more time with her than with any other woman, knew her better, had let her know him better, yet what did he really know? Not even the name of her mysterious boyfriend.
Vale immediately lowered his mouth to cover hers, telling himself the surge of emotion in his chest was not jealousy of a man he’d never met. Whatever, Faith’s lips were sweet beneath his and pleasure soon replaced the unwanted emotional surge.
Soft, full, yielding, yet demanding, she returned his kiss. If there was another man in her life, their relationship couldn’t be too serious. Otherwise Faith wouldn’t kiss him back. Yet she didn’t do so whole-heartedly, which gave him pause. He could read her every thought, feel the conflicting sensations swirling inside that brilliant mind of hers. She wanted him, yet she didn’t.
He understood perfectly because he felt exactly the same.
“I want to make love to you, Faith, but I’m not willing to ruin our professional relationship.”
Her eyes widened at his admission, greener than the most precious emerald.
“You’re more important to me than a quick rumble between the sheets.” His words said one thing, but he asked her a question with his eyes. A question he knew the answer to, but asked all the same in the hope he was wrong about Faith.
“Professional relationship at stake or not, I’m not willing to be just a rumble between any man’s sheets, Vale. I’m not you. I don’t do casual sex.”
He’d known, but still disappointment filled him at her response.
“Understood.” He ran his fingers along her cheek, thinking her more beautiful than the sunset, more tempting than any siren of the sea, more precious than any gem in a treasure trove, loving how his name sounded on her lips. “But another kiss wouldn’t hurt anything.”
“No.” Her lips hovered centimeters from his mouth, her breath warm, inviting, making him want more than she was willing to give. “One more kiss wouldn’t hurt, Vale. But just one more because I won’t be one of your girls. We aren’t having a weekend fling or rumble between your sheets or whatever you want to call it.”
“Okay,” he agreed, breathing in her warm, vanilla scent, so clean and refreshing, like her. “Just one more kiss because you aren’t one of my girls and don’t want to be a rumble between my sheets this weekend.”
He continued to tell himself once more while he kissed Faith reverently, his hands cupping her face, his fingers partially threaded into her pulled-up hair, his gaze locked with hers.
The kiss was gentle, searching, desperate and yet lingering as if they had all the time in the world to explore each other’s lips. It was a kiss unlike any Vale had ever experienced.
A kiss that made him wonder what else with Faith would be like nothing he’d ever experienced.
That wonder both thrilled him and scared the living hell out of him.
Feeling like a plucked chicken in a room full of swans, Faith sat in the upstairs media room with the women staying at the Wakefields’ Cape May mansion. Sharon, Angela, two of Sharon’s college friends, Vale’s other cousin Monica, and Steve’s younger sister, Francis Woodard. Vale’s mother and Sharon’s parents had retired to bed around ten, claiming they were too tired to sit up with the younger women and reminding Sharon to be sure to get her beauty sleep so she wouldn’t have bags under her eyes.
The men had gone out for drinks and Steve’s bachelor party, Vale included. Each second that ticked by brought his return closer. And when he returned they’d be expected to share a bedroom. Did Vale sleep in pajamas? Or would he slide between the sheets in nothing more than he’d brought into the world?
“Tell us,” Francis cried after downing a shot of something bright red and grabbing Faith’s hand, pulling her from her meanderings. “What’s it like, dating Very Scrumptious Vale?”
She didn’t want to lie, but what could she say? “Mostly, we just work together.”
“Honey, we all saw that kiss down on the beach.” Francis fanned her face with exaggeration. “If you were on the clock, sign me up for medical school.”
Faith’s face burned. Okay, so the groom’s little sister had a point. But how did she explain what she didn’t understand herself?
“It’s complicated.”
“Love always is,” Sharon sighed.
“We’re not in love,” Faith quickly denied, unwilling to perpetuate the misconception.
“I saw the way Vale looks at you.” At Faith’s raised eyebrow, Sharon went on. “He looked at you as if you’re the only woman in the world, as if he would have liked to push you down in the sand and made love to you right there, the world be damned.” She smiled, taking on a dreamy look. “I know love. It’s exactly the same way Steve looks at me.”
“You’re mistaken.” Vale had looked at her with lust because she was convenient, because they were at a wedding and people did stupid things at weddings. Like get married and believe in happily ever after.
“I know Vale,” Sharon boasted. “He wants you.”
Yes, he’d told her that. And, truth was, just having Vale desire her was so much more than she’d ever dreamed possible. So why had she said no?
He hadn’t said the words out loud, but essentially he’d been asking her to have an affair with him. A fling that would last the weekend and be done when they left the magic of the beach.
But she couldn’t say yes, not when she’d be expected to work side by side with him as if nothing had happened.
Lord, how was she going to work with him night after late night now that she knew his kisses tasted of ambrosia?
“Oh,” Sharon cooed, “you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Faith opened her mouth, ready to deny his cousin’s claim, but nothing came out. Nothing at all, because she didn’t know how she felt about Vale. Not any more. From before they’d met, she’d admired him professionally, had known she wanted to work with him, had used every resource within her repertoire to arrange an interview. When they’d met, she’d been thunderstruck by emotion so potent the magnitude had almost blinded her.
She admired Vale, professionally and personally, although she’d hesitate to admit the latter to anyone other than herself. Physically she wanted him, but what heterosexual woman wouldn’t?
This weekend she had the opportunity to be with him and was too scared to accept the risk that chance would change everything between them. Bok. Bok.
Only sometimes change was inevitable, and inevitably her relationship with Vale had undergone a change she couldn’t undo even if she wanted to.
Taking that chance would strip her soul bare, would let him see into her heart, and therein lay the problem.
She didn’t want to give Vale that power over her future. Didn’t want to become her mother, settling for whoever came along because she’d tasted love and couldn’t hold on to it, forever searching to feed a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied.
No, she didn’t love Vale and would never, ever allow herself to be that foolish.
CHAPTER FIVE
FAITH tossed and turned in the enormous bed in the giant bedroom their suitcases had been placed in. How could she sleep when eventually Vale would return? Would be sleeping in the same room? Possibly crawl between the sheets beside her if she didn’t stay awake and order him to the sofa?
Although his family had been nothing but kind to her, she�
��d had a difficult time relaxing. How could she fit in when their conversation ran from spending the month in Europe at their favorite French resort to having their thighs liposuctioned in Beverly Hills?
Which should only serve as yet another reminder of why she shouldn’t become involved with Vale this weekend. Despite how dedicated he was to his career, to finding a treatment or, better yet, a cure for Parkinson’s, the reality was he moved in a different world from that she did.
A jiggle of the doorhandle had her breath catching. Vale.
Peeking through barely open eyes, she took in the outline of his sleek body in the doorframe. So beautiful. So tempting.
Softly, he closed the door, walked over to the sofa and sank down onto the leather. She could feel his gaze on her, could feel his presence so overwhelmingly that she swore the room pulsed with him. His scent. His aura. His heartbeat.
Forcing her breathing to remain even, she closed her eyes completely, feigning sleep. She couldn’t deal with him. Not tonight. Not if she didn’t want to do something she might regret.
Might, because she wasn’t sure.
Perhaps not doing something would be more regrettable than taking action?
She just didn’t know, didn’t have the experience to know, and for that reason she’d pretend to be asleep to avoid having to act.
“Faith?” he whispered, almost as if he knew she was faking.
She didn’t answer and after a few moments he sighed, but didn’t call her bluff.
Instead, he disappeared into the en suite bathroom, returned, and slid between the sheets. Next to her.
Would it give away that she was awake if she piled pillows between them? Or if she peeked under the covers to see what he was wearing? Or not wearing?
She swallowed, fighting to breathe, fighting to keep her eyes closed in case he was looking at her and could see her through the sliver of moonlight breaking the darkness, fighting to keep from scooting next to him, spooning her body to his.
Because, really, if she did that while still feigning sleep, what would it hurt? She could always plead that she’d gotten cold. Which didn’t explain the droplets of sweat forming between her breasts.
She bit the inside of her lower lip, forced herself to count sheep, to count the soft sounds of Vale’s even breathing. That he’d crawled into bed and fallen immediately to sleep didn’t say much about her effect on him, did it? He was in bed with her for the first time ever and had immediately dozed off.
The last time she recalled taking a peek at him soft streaks of sunrise had started filtering into the room. His dark head lay against the pillow, his lashes fanned out across his cheeks, his face relaxed in sleep.
Unable to resist, she reached out, brushed her fingertip across his cheek, marveling at the smooth perfection of his skin, at how her heart raced at the contact.
Without his expression changing in the slightest to indicate he’d awakened, his hand caught hers, clasped it to him. Faith watched his face for some sign she’d woken him, but none was forthcoming. Neither was escaping his death grip, so she relaxed, cherishing the contact of their skin.
Her hand cradled in his, she finally drifted off into dream-filled sleep.
With the sun streaming into the room through the magnificent windows, Faith woke very aware that she was in Vale’s king-size bed that smelled of his spicy aftershave.
She opened her eyes, startled to find the bed empty.
Only the imprint on the pillow next to hers told the tale that he’d shared the bed, that she wasn’t imagining his musky scent. Unable to resist, she reached out, touched where his head had lain, calling herself every kind of stupid.
She’d touched him during the night. Had he woken up and known of her foolishness? God, she hoped not.
Slowly, she became more aware of her surroundings. She’d been too restless the night before to fully appreciate the bedroom suite.
Double glass doors led out onto a balcony that ran the length of the room. Pale blue walls with clean lines were broken only by the huge windows and a gorgeous seaside painting. Wow. A panoramic view of the ocean took her breath, easily visible even while lying in the bed. A two-sided glass fireplace divided the room, separating a living area with a sofa and television from the bed area. A couple of medical magazines cluttered the solid mahogany end table. To the far end of the living area a desk with a state-of-the-art computer was set up. A yellow legal pad had notes scribbled on the top page in Vale’s distinctive penmanship. Had he worked this morning before leaving the room?
This wasn’t a guest suite. This was Vale’s room. If she walked to the closet, his clothes would be hanging there. Those had been his personal items in the en suite bathroom, which was bigger than her entire apartment, and not because he’d brought them from home. No wonder he hadn’t carried more than his small overnight bag, so sharply contrasting with her large suitcase. He hadn’t had to.
But what she didn’t see in the room was Vale. Where was he? Had he wakened, taken one look at her, and been frightened away? Probably, she mused. As much as she’d tossed and turned prior to his arrival in the bed, she imagined her hair was every which way.
Stretching, Faith decided she’d get up, shower, and go in search of her host. Only before she’d so much as lowered her arms the door opened and Vale entered, carrying a tray full of breakfast goodies that had her stomach growling in appreciation.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted her, fully dressed in khaki slacks that hugged his narrow hips, a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up on his tanned forearms and a sexy V exposing where the top two buttons were undone at his neck.
He’d been the one out partying all night so it was totally unfair that he looked marvelous, and she suddenly recalled the fact she’d just woken up, looked horrendous with not a speck of her new make-up, and her hair wild as Friday evening rush-hour traffic.
She winced, fighting the urge to try to tame the messy strands about her head. No doubt she looked like Medusa with hair snaking about her head in every direction.
“Good morning, yourself.” She scooted up in the bed, only to become conscious of her pajamas. During her shopping spree she hadn’t considered sleepwear, had never dreamed she and Vale would be thrown into the same room by his mother. She didn’t expect her fuzzy Star Wars pajama bottoms and T-shirt top to start any fires.
Hold up. Did she want to start fires? Hadn’t she told herself time and again while lying in his bed last night that she needed to keep distance between them this weekend if she didn’t want to destroy her career? If she made love with Vale, no way could she continue to work with him when he moved on to another woman. To do so would be torture of the cruelest kind.
She considered herself a modern woman, but she didn’t do casual sex. She didn’t do sex at all.
She flopped back on her pillow with a sleepy sigh.
“Not a morning person?” he teased, placing the tray on the bed. “I brought you breakfast.”
She glanced down at the tray. Fresh fruit, yogurt, bagels with peanut butter, juice, milk, a pot of coffee, and…she lifted a metal lid off a plate…eggs, bacon, sausage links, and toast with butter and jelly.
“You don’t really expect me to eat all this?”
His gaze raked down her bare arms, instantly covering her with goose-bumps of awareness. She was in his bed. Could he see how her nipples strained toward him? She hoped not.
“Wouldn’t hurt you if you did,” he assured her, “but I thought you might share.”
Not waiting for her to respond, he climbed into the bed beside her. Faith grabbed for the tray, certain the contents would topple, but it didn’t budge. What kind of mattress was this anyway? A very expensive one, she decided, trying to ignore Vale’s long frame stretched out beside her, fluffing pillows behind his back. Trying to ignore that now every cell in her body strained toward him as if she were metal and he the most powerful of magnets.
Mr. Magnetism pulled back a plastic wrap and spread cream c
heese on a bagel, offering the pastry to her. “Have fun with the girls last night?”
Reaching for the bagel, she nodded. “You have a lovely family, Vale.”
“Lovely?” He curled his nose, preparing a plate of food for himself. “They’ve snookered you.”
“And you?” she asked, popping a bite of the bagel into her mouth. “Did you have fun with the boys, doing all those wild bachelor party things men do?”
She’d meant her question to be teasing, casual, but when he turned to her there was nothing teasing in his eyes, nothing casual in the way her heart mimicked a space-shuttle launch.
“I’d rather have been with you.”
Vale watched Faith’s eyes darken to a deep green at his admission. He wasn’t accustomed to things spouting out of his mouth that he hadn’t planned to say. But his words were true.
He would much rather have been here with Faith than at Steve’s bachelor party.
Several of the groom’s football buddies had apparently thrown him a huge bachelor party in Philadelphia the weekend before so last night’s had been more about tradition than one last yahoo on the town.
The entire time Vale had wondered what Faith was doing, how she was getting on with his family.
He wondered that a lot these days. He’d be sitting at home and would glance at his watch and wonder if she’d still be awake and, if so, what she was doing. Sometimes he wondered if Faith wasn’t why he worked so many hours, just so he’d have an excuse to see her.
Which was crazy. If he wanted to see her outside work, all he had to do was ask her out.
But something in the way her green eyes darkened and her bagel stopped halfway to her mouth told him maybe that wasn’t all he had to do.
Which was perhaps why he’d never asked her out.
That and the fact she had a bright career ahead of her at the clinic and didn’t need personal issues muddying the waters. He didn’t need personal issues muddying the waters. Other women were disposable in his life, but he enjoyed working with Faith. Enjoyed the constant she provided.