Oh, yes. Lucy wouldn’t mind doing that one bit.
But if they made love like that again, Lucy knew she wouldn’t be able to stop. Not willingly anyway. The last thing she needed was to make a complete and utter fool of herself over Sterling Matthew. Over her boss. Her friends’ son. She would have to leave St. Caroline then.
When the last session ended at four pm, Sterling was waiting for her in the lobby of the hotel. He greeted her with a long, searching kiss.
“I’ve been waiting all day to do that,” he said with a smile.
He tossed her luggage into the trunk of the rental car. Fifteen minutes later, they were cruising across the majestic Golden Gate Bridge toward Sausalito and, further north, Elle and Edward’s bed and breakfast. Lucy was not exactly looking forward to a weekend spent with Elle. This was not going to be a relaxing two days, though Sterling seemed to think otherwise. Lucy mentally calculated the hours between now and when their flight took off for home on Sunday.
She looked over at Sterling, confidently driving through the Friday evening traffic on the bridge. He was whistling a tune Lucy couldn’t identify. He had certainly found that weekend mindset. Lucy had never been able to turn on and off her moods like that; she envied people who could.
“How did your call go this morning?” she asked.
Sterling turned and trained his megawatt smile on her. “Fine. We’re close to a new financing deal. Very close.” He turned his attention back to the road.
Close to a deal. Lucy wondered whether that was a deal with the camp or without.
“Just a few final plans to nail down,” Sterling added, seemingly reading her mind.
When the car stopped at the head of the B&B’s long, gently curving stone driveway, Elle and Edward were waiting for them. Honestly, Lucy wasn’t sure she’d have recognized Elle if she hadn’t been expecting to see her. Elle’s long red hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and her tall, slender form was encased in faded Levis and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Definitely not the immaculately pulled-together consultant she was used to seeing.
The bed and breakfast also wasn’t what Lucy was expecting. She’d had a vision in her mind of an old, gracious Victorian—like the “painted ladies” they had driven past in San Francisco or the B&B she and Josh had stayed at once in Vermont. But Elle and Edward’s B&B looked like an oversized Craftsman-style ranch with muted, earth-toned colors and squared-off stone columns. A small cairn stood piled next to the wooden front door and a string of colorful Buddhist prayer flags stretched between two grand old trees. Dozens of ornate copper bells hung from a pavilion to the side.
“Very ... zen,” Lucy said as she got out of the car. She looked around, admiring the natural beauty of the setting. The house sat in a small clearing, surrounded by tall trees and lush, dark rhododendra. A stone path disappeared around the side of the house.
Sterling closed the trunk of the car, then stood behind Lucy. He placed a hand lightly on her back. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said. “Anyone can stay here, but most of the guests come for Edward and his sister’s yoga and meditation retreats.”
“We used to have a yoga studio in St. Caroline, but it closed,” she remarked.
“Not enough business, I imagine.”
“No. Actually, it was plenty busy. But the owner fell in love, got married and moved away. I miss it. I used to go twice a week.”
“You do yoga?”
“Well, I did. I’m terribly out of shape now.”
Sterling couldn’t agree with that. He’d gotten to see all of Lucy’s shape last night and she had looked perfectly in shape to him.
“Sterling!” Elle was coming down the front steps toward them. “What you are two doing just standing out here? Come in, come in!”
Sterling picked up their luggage and carried it up the stairs. He kissed Elle lightly on the cheek. “We were just admiring the property.” He whispered something in Elle’s ear, an action Lucy didn’t miss. Lucy and Elle shook hands, as they moved into the foyer.
“There’s a class with Sreenivas starting in ten minutes. Why don’t you two change and take it before dinner?” Elle suggested. “Lucy, have you tried yoga?”
“Yes, there used to be a studio in St. Caroline.”
“Really? That’s perfect, then. Sterling was the person who found Sreenivas Balakrishnan for us. He met him at an ashram in India.”
Lucy’s expression was skeptical as she looked over at Sterling. “You studied yoga in India?”
Sterling nodded. “For six months or so.”
“He was finding himself,” Edward said, suddenly appearing behind Elle.
“And did you?” Lucy asked.
“No. But I found a really terrific yoga teacher and convinced him to move to the U.S. So it was worth it.”
“Worth it for us, definitely,” Edward said as he wrapped his arms around Elle and nuzzled a kiss onto her neck.
Wow, different side of the ice princess, Lucy thought. Douglas would be interested in hearing about this. And Sterling at an ashram?
“You two had better scoot, if you want to make the class,” Elle said, unwinding Edward’s arms from around her shoulders. “Lucy, you’ll find complimentary yoga clothing in the closet in your room.”
Even the guest rooms were zen, Lucy noted. There was nothing ornate or fanciful about hers. The bed was simple, dressed in linens and blankets in muted gray and champagne tones. A small gray sofa sat beneath a picture window, draped in beige linen. A wooden desk and chair were nestled into an eave. The walls were painted with a textured lavender-gray paint. Lucy peeked into the bath. A deep teak soaking tub stood along one wall, next to a spacious gray-tiled shower. The whole effect was soothing, calming. What a contrast to the hotel in San Francisco, she thought, overlit and buzzing with businesspeople. And in the closet, as Elle had promised, several brand new yoga outfits in Lucy’s size.
Wonder what they’re charging here. It must have cost a fortune to renovate this place. The thought occurred to her that Sterling must be an investor here.
When Lucy slipped into the studio, Sterling was already inside, stretched out in the last row. There was an empty mat unrolled next to him, clearly meant for her. The room was small but with a cathedral ceiling and a large window on the back wall that looked out onto a wooded area behind. Lucy counted twelve people in the rows in front of her.
Sreenivas Balakrishnan sat at the head of the room, in a pool of dappled sunlight spilling through the treetops outside. He was tall and lean, dressed in slim brown pants and a sleeveless top that wound around his torso like bandages. His skin was smooth as a pearl. His glossy dark hair hung to his shoulders. As Lucy watched, he tucked a hank of it back behind his ears. He smiled serenely at her.
“Hard to believe he’s fifty years old, isn’t it?” Sterling whispered to her.
Lucy looked over at Sterling in astonishment. “Fifty?” she mouthed silently. “Whatever his secret is, we need to bottle it,” she whispered.
Lucy began following the poses. But it was hard to pay attention to Sreenivas, much less her own body, when Sterling’s long muscles were stretching and flexing right next to her. Sterling was having no problems whatsoever with the poses, she noticed. Six months in an ashram? Lucy would never have guessed that, not in a million years.
Her own muscles were tight and protesting this sudden plunge back into yoga. After the yoga studio in St. Caroline had closed, Lucy had tried to continue on her own at home. But she had missed the atmosphere of the studio. At home, there were too many distractions. Dishes to be done, laundry to be folded, Douglas showing up for a quick paddle around the bay in their kayaks. Eventually, she had given it up.
Sterling closed his eyes to better focus on the sensation of stretching out his spine. After a week spent mostly on the phone with bankers, potential investors and old friends of his parents, every inch of his body felt tight and kinked. He had known that taking over the Inn was going to be stressful
, but knowing it and living it were two entirely different things. Sreenivas was exactly what he needed after this week. His style of yoga wasn’t aggressively athletic. Rather, it was soothing and relaxing. It was the only thing Sterling had ever done that made him feel the inside of his skin.
He had another reason for keeping his eyes closed. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t see Lucy next to him. It would be absolutely impossible to focus on yoga with the sight of Lucy in his peripheral vision. Lucy in form-fitting black yoga pants that stopped just above her knees. And that stretchy sleeveless top that did nothing to hide her toned shoulders or camouflage just how perfectly rounded her breasts were.
Even as a teenager, she’d had a slow, sleek, feline way to her movements. It was one of the things that had caught his eye back then. She still moved that way. An image flashed into his mind of Lucy crawling over his body last night, moving over him so languorously it was almost like slow motion.
Sreenivas had said to him in India that he felt better after yoga than he did after sex. Sterling had to disagree with him there. Yoga made him feel pretty damn good but it didn’t come close to how he had felt last night after making love to Lucy. Sterling wasn’t in the habit of grading his performance but he hoped he had erased any memories Lucy had of his teenaged self.
After forty-five minutes, Sreenivas ended the class. Lucy lay back on her mat, enjoying the spell of calmness and peace that had taken over her limbs and her heart. She was afraid that standing up might break this delicious feeling. She had forgotten how cleaned out yoga made her feel.
“Lucy?” She heard Sterling’s voice above her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to stand up even for him. “Are you asleep? Sreenivas did that to me once.”
Lucy opened her eyes. Sterling was leaning over her, a sexy smile plastered across his face. God, he is so gorgeous.
“They have private saunas next door. If we hurry, we can nab one.”
Hurry? After yoga? But hmmm ... a sauna did sound nice to Lucy, definitely worth getting up off the floor for. As if reading her mind, Sterling extended his hand to help her up. He leaned over and rolled up her mat.
Outside the sauna was a tiny, private dressing area. Barely enough room for two people to move in without touching each other. Sterling stripped off his clothes immediately. Lucy felt unaccountably shy. After last night, she shouldn’t be, but she hesitated anyway.
Sterling sensed her discomfort. He wrapped a fluffy white towel around his waist and opened the door to the sauna. “I’ll wait for you inside.”
Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. Why so shy all of a sudden, she thought. Sterling had seen every last inch of her body last night. There was nothing else to hide there. Still ...
She undressed quickly and wrapped one of the big towels around herself, tucking in the edge firmly under her arm. Inside the sauna, Sterling had stretched himself out on one leg of the L-shaped bench. Lucy’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of his long lean legs, the dark hairs already damp and matted to his skin. His chest glistened in the heat. Put this man on a calendar.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“Infla—”
“Right. Inflation,” Sterling said. “Dollar for your thoughts.”
What the hell. “I was thinking the Inn should produce a pinup calendar.”
Sterling lifted one eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”
“You could be Mr. January.” Lucy raked her eyes lasciviously along his body.
The idea seemed to amuse Sterling. His mouth curved into a sly smile. “You’d make a fine Miss February. That only leaves us with ten more months to fill.”
“Gina would pose in an apron, but her husband would probably nix that idea.”
Sterling played along. “What about your camp director? Although he’s probably already posed in Men of the Ivy League.”
At that idea, Lucy laughed so hard her towel started to slip. Sterling’s eyes darkened as she hitched it back up. “Douglas in the Ivy League?” Lucy sputtered. “I think Douglas studied at the School of Hard Knocks, then transferred to Wor-Wic Community College. He was a camper, you know.”
“Same summer you were?”
Lucy nodded, then smiled as she remembered Douglas’ story about how the boys had been just waiting for their chance to pound Sterling.
“What’s so funny?” Sterling asked.
Lucy shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Nothing is never that funny.”
Lucy shrugged and finally took a seat on the other leg of the bench. She stretched her legs out in front of her, slow and sexy, and leaned back on her arms.
Sterling sat up. “I could kiss it out of you.”
“Doubtful,” Lucy replied.
Sterling stood up, the white towel dropping off his hips, and walked over to Lucy. Now there’s one part of the body that yoga apparently can’t relax. She gave him a sexy, expectant smile. Sterling kneeled on the bench and leaned in toward Lucy.
“Last chance to save yourself. What was so funny?”
“You’ll have to torture it out of me.” Lucy was surprised at how low and growly her voice sounded all of a sudden. If Sterling didn’t start torturing her soon ...
And then his lips were on hers, a hungry bruising kiss. Lucy’s skin was on fire, every inch of it. His tongue caressed the soft fullness of her mouth for a moment, gently sucking at her lower lip, then he covered her lips again, this time with a hard and demanding kiss. Lucy was surprised by the intensity, the urgency of his mouth.
“Ready to tell?” he growled.
“Never.”
He covered her mouth again, but this time his hands began to play. He hooked his thumb under the top edge of her towel and slid it across the tops of Lucy’s breasts until he found where she had tucked it in. A swift tug and the towel fell away. His lips left hers immediately. The next thing Lucy knew, he was tracing a searing line of kisses across the soft skin of her breasts.
“Now?” he murmured.
“Never.”
“Have it your way.”
His lips closed in over her nipple, and Lucy gasped. Her breathing grew shallower and her pulse pounded in her ears. Sterling’s tongue drew a slow, lazy circle around her nipple. He sucked on its tight pink peak. The ache that had started out small and concentrated in Lucy’s stomach had spread up into her chest and across her hips, warm and liquid and intense.
He moved to her other breast, his lips tasting her skin in strong, confident strokes, his tongue lapping and teasing her nipple. She felt his hand brush lightly against her hip, then settle more firmly onto her bare skin. She moaned. Her hips tilted upward toward him.
“Mmm,” Sterling murmured against her breast. “I’m not going any further until I know what was so funny.”
Lucy wanted him to go further. Wanted him to go much, much further. She arched her back, pressed her breasts harder against his mouth. He pulled back. His eyes leisurely took in her body, the smoldering desire on her face. Lucy had never felt so naked, so exposed.
He lifted one eyebrow in query.
Lucy sighed. “It was Douglas. He said that if you had laid a finger on any of the girls at the camp, the boys were all going to pound you.”
“Oh yeah? Douglas and his posse? That is funny.”
“Now that you know what was so funny ...” Lucy said, her voice low and husky with desire.
Sterling sat back on the sauna bench and pulled Lucy onto his lap, her legs straddling his. A heated rush of longing surged through Lucy. All she could think of was how much she wanted Sterling Matthew, wanted him right now. She gently ran her thumb over his lower lip. He had such a beautiful mouth, she thought. She shifted her position on his lap and watched as his eyes darkened with desire.
“I want you, Lucy Lou,” Sterling rasped. “I want you.”
Chapter 15
The next evening, the B&B’s courtyard was strung with paper lanterns and twinkly Christmas lights. Elle and Edward’s guests mingled and noshed on cake and champagne beneat
h the lush canopy of trees and a clear starlit night. It was Sterling’s birthday, to Lucy’s surprise. He’d been full of surprises here in California.
As far as she could tell, Sterling had spent the entire day in his room. When Lucy had walked past his door around lunch time, she’d heard the stern rumble of his voice. On the phone with the bankers again, probably, she mused.
Lucy spent the day meandering through the B&B’s wooded property, drinking in the peaceful beauty and trying to make sense of what had happened between herself and Sterling the night before. The sex had been great. No, make that amazing. Too amazing, which was why Lucy was determined not to let it happen again. Of course, she had said that yesterday, too. She was going to have to broach the subject of the camp soon, before the afterglow wore off of Sterling. He’d definitely been attracted to her last night—and the night before, in San Francisco—but Lucy had no illusions about her womanly appeal to a man like Sterling. He could have any woman he wanted, anytime he wanted. She had a limited window of opportunity in which to close the Plan B deal.
Case in point: Sterling was deep in conversation with Sreenivas Balakrishnan, but that hadn’t prevented several women from positioning themselves around the two men, obviously jockeying for Sterling’s attention. Even dressed casually, as Sterling was at the moment, in khakis and a blue button-down shirt, he radiated sexuality. He was one of those people who was simply at ease in his skin. He knew who he was, Lucy thought, had always known who he was. People like Sterling Matthew were born into exactly who they were meant to be. How easy that must be, she thought. Gliding through life effortlessly. She’d expended more effort getting through childhood than Sterling would probably ever have to put forth in his entire life.
Lucy was surprised by the little flame of jealousy that flared in her chest. But was she jealous of the women flirting with him ... or of his life? Lucy couldn’t say. She certainly didn’t want other women flirting with him at the moment—or him flirting back. She needed to keep him on the hook until she could get him to reverse his decision on the camp. But that was business. She hadn’t expected that sharp, visceral stab of jealousy in her gut.
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