by Audra North
“Are you married?” he barked at her, more forcefully than he’d intended, but this was throwing him off.
She furrowed her brow. “No…” She spoke slowly to him as though he‘d just surfaced from a deep underwater dive and needed time to reacclimate to the terrestrial world. “It was supposed to be my honeymoon, but my ex-fiancé and I broke up four months ago and the tickets, the deposit on the villa at the resort—none of it was refundable.”
He relaxed in relief. She wasn’t married. “So you came anyway.” It was more of a statement than a question, because of course she had come, anyway, but he wanted to hear more of the story. It was a ballsy move, going on a vacation alone after breaking an engagement.
“I came anyway.”
She shrugged when she said it, as though trying to make it seem like no big deal, but she sounded so dejected that he decided to throw caution to the wind and touch her. He reached out and rubbed her shoulder, while simultaneously making appropriate corresponding sounds of sympathy.
And immediately regretted it.
He should not have touched her.
Because now his pants were tight, his hands were practically burning where they skimmed over the fleece of her top, and he could feel his lungs seizing up.
He was about to draw his hand away when she purred, “That feels really good,” and tipped her neck forward in invitation. “Do you mind doing it a little harder?”
¡Pedro, Pablo, y María! as Mami liked to say. This was so wrong, so so wrong…
But he took half a step forward, anyway, and started gently squeezing the fine muscles just above her shoulder. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath, swaying toward him just enough that he caught the faint scent of her in the air between them, something clean and crisp that reminded him of autumn in Napa. Home.
“Wow, you are really good with your fingers,” she said, and he realized he was now kneading the muscles of her slender neck. How did this happen? “Did you study massage therapy or something?”
He tried to focus on what she was saying. She wanted to know if he studied how to touch a woman and relax her? No, but he sure as hell was up for a lesson right now…Okay, man. Settle down. Not going to happen. Just rub her damned neck.
“No.” He used the word to test his voice, relieved when it didn’t crack like an adolescent’s. “I studied finance in college, actually. But all three of my sisters are pregnant right now, one of them with her fourth kid and the other two with their second ones, so there’s a lot of massaging of necks, feet, backs, you name it. If it’s not a husbands-only place, you can bet my sisters have roped me into rubbing just about every part of their tortured bodies.”
Lily laughed and Bruno’s chest swelled with pride that he’d made her happy. She had looked so miserable a moment ago, when she had confessed that she had gone on her honeymoon trip by herself, and he’d wanted nothing more than to see her smile again. In fact, he wanted to see her wear that full-blown, so-damned-sexy-it-should-be-outlawed smile.
And nothing else.
He pulled his hand away. Dangerous territory.
“Want to talk about it?” He slid his hands into his pants pockets, striving to look purposely casual. He knew how his sisters were. If they felt he cared too much, they’d withdraw and not share a thing. But he’d perfected the art of caring just enough that every woman he’d ever known would spill everything within seconds of his asking, just like that. And they usually served him pie, or brownies, or some other delicious treat while they dished their woes along with it.
He should work for the State Department.
But, of course, he should have known Lily would be different.
She shook her head. “Actually, I’d love a shower. And maybe some food. I think room service takes a while, though, so I’ll order now. Do you want something?”
You, he wanted to say. His massage must have worked, because she looked softer now, even more beautiful, if that was possible. Now that they weren’t fighting, and he wasn’t worried about where he was going to sleep tonight, he was feeling like his normal self. Pretty easygoing, a guy who liked to laugh and hang out with friends and family. And beautiful strangers.
“Any kind of red meat works for me.” He shrugged. “I’m easy to please.”
She smiled and moved to get the room service menu. It happened so fast that he almost missed it. In the space of a second—just before she turned away from him—she swept her eyes up his body, starting with his crotch and ending somewhere around his neck.
He shuddered as though she’d actually caressed him.
She wanted him.
Which was certainly going to make not touching her much more difficult.
Bruno could feel his groin swelling and pulsing, and he had to step behind the couch to hide his swiftly growing erection. “Maybe I’ll have a quick shower while you’re ordering?” he spoke to her profile, as she was bent over the desk, thumbing through the room service menu.
She waved in his direction. “Go for it. I think the bathroom in here”—Lily gestured to the door behind him—“is just a lavatory. There’s probably another one off the bedroom with a shower.”
Nodding tightly, he made a beeline for the other room, relieved that she hadn’t bothered to look up and notice his now-tented pants.
This was going to be one of the coldest showers in history.
Chapter Three
Lily hung up the phone and tried not to squeal with a girlish thrill. Komarov had been rocking a hard-on when he fled the room. She’d seen him out of the corner of her eye, but pretended not to be looking as soon as she saw the front of his pants.
Which had been the first thing she’d seen, since…wow. Just wow.
And she thought the view from their suite’s window had been impressive. But his erection was even more inspiring scenery.
But had that been for her? Or, in the minute or so that they had moved apart, had he thought of someone else? Maybe a lover waiting for him at home, whom he wouldn’t be seeing tonight because his flight got canceled. She felt strangely dejected at the possibility.
Goodness, she didn’t even know where “home” was for him. She knew he had three pregnant sisters, which amused her even now, just thinking of a man as large and intense as him being tasked with rubbing his sisters’ sore feet. But that was about all she knew.
No, scratch that. She also knew he had a big dick.
She rolled her eyes at herself. May as well write his biography.
She heard the water running in the bathroom beyond, and she made quick work of the half bathroom off the living room, then rolled her suitcase into the bedroom so that she could get a change of clothes.
For a moment, she hesitated, thinking she should just leave it there and come back when he had finished showering. Somehow, it felt too intimate to be in the bedroom next to him when he was naked, soaping himself and rubbing his body in the shower, hard muscles flexing as he washed his back.
Lily groaned and slapped her forehead. This was going to be the longest night of her life.
What’s worse, she’d barely given Julie’s graduation a second thought ever since she’d met him. It wasn’t like her to forget her responsibilities so easily.
You say “responsibilities,” I say “guilt,” her mother had once told her. You have to stop feeling so apologetic for every little thing that goes wrong. Especially when you have no control over it.
That had been one year after Lily had started dating Jason. Before, she’d been more easygoing, but after a while she had started worrying over little things, obsessing about them turning out right. It became harder and harder to deal with mistakes, especially her own.
She had told herself it was because her business had been ramping up so wildly, but her mother had seen the truth. Mom had suggested that Lily take a break from Jason for a bit, to focus on getting her consulting business under control.
But Lily had scoffed. “I’ll never abandon Jason! I’m not like that,” she had i
nsisted. Mom had cautioned her that Jason was more of a project than an equal partner, and Lily had said something back that she regretted every day since. Just because you’re still sad and lonely all these years after Dad’s death doesn’t mean that everyone else around you has to be, too.
It was only now that she could see just how worried Mom had been. And how right.
Lily hefted her suitcase onto the small console by the bedroom door and unzipped it, then stared down at the contents of the bag as though she were seeing them for the first time. It should have been obvious that this vacation was going to be a disaster when she’d packed as though going on a work trip instead of a fun getaway.
Until Jason, she had dated nice guys who, though they might not have been as sexually inspiring as, say, Bruno Komarov, were good people who cared about her and supported her dreams. Jason had been a break from that sweet, but boring, trend. He was tall and lean, with Nordic good looks and long-fingered artist’s hands. He rode a fast motorcycle—which she had later learned had been a gift from an ex-girlfriend whom he had treated just as badly as he’d treated Lily—and painted like a savage animal. She had fallen hard.
But even so, the sex hadn’t lived up to the attraction, and she had finally accepted that it was her problem.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and rubbed at her eyes. Massaging herself didn’t feel nearly as good as when Bruno did it, but she was so tense. A hot shower was definitely in order.
The image of her tiptoeing into the bathroom and slipping into the shower with him, kneeling down and taking him in her mouth, startled her.
She never fantasized about giving oral sex to a man. Every time she did it, it was only to please the guy she had been with and not herself. But something about Komarov made the very idea of having his hard shaft against her tongue the most desirable thing she could think of.
She imagined having his hand in her hair as she stroked him with her lips, how his balls would tighten and he would fight against climax so that he wouldn’t lose it in her mouth, but when he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d say—
“All yours.” His voice jerked her out of her naughty fantasy so fast that she jumped and yelped in guilty surprise.
She whipped around and yelped again, but this time at the real deal.
He was wearing only a towel.
She froze, unable to tear her gaze away from his body. His shoulders were smooth and broad, his biceps just the right size for a woman to clutch as he drove into her. His chest was lightly sprinkled with dark hair over his olive skin, which ran in a faint line down the middle of his stomach, bisecting the muscles that looked like they were cut into his skin, so well-defined were they. He held the towel in place with one large hand, his long, powerful fingers clutching it so tightly that his knuckles were going white, and just beneath that, the terry cloth was poking up and out, jutting toward her—
She clapped a hand to her mouth as her eyes flew to his.
He chuckled apologetically. “It happens when I get a thorough inspection like that,” he said casually, but the tension in his shoulders belied the indifference in his voice.
Rather belatedly, Lily whirled back around and faced her luggage.
“I-I’m so sorry,” she stammered, directing her apology to the clothes packed in neat rolls.
He chuckled again and she heard his feet padding softly on the carpet, walking toward the door. “Don’t mention it. Really. The shower is all yours. I left my clothes hanging on the hook, but they shouldn’t be in your way. I’ll get them later.”
Her cheeks burned and she couldn’t look at him, could only nod, as he walked past her into the living room, pulling the door softly shut behind him.
Once he was out of sight, she let out a tense breath.
She felt like a naïve little girl again. The same way he’d made her feel down in the lobby, when he’d questioned her decision about inviting him to stay with her. But he hadn’t made any moves on her, and he’d actually told her not to mention it just now when she’d apologized for being forward enough to turn him on.
Which probably meant that he preferred to keep things mostly business-like, and that moment between them, and his erection as he left the living room earlier, just represented an inconvenient aberration.
A magnificent, large, thrusting aberration…
She flexed her fingers, trying to make herself move. It was no use thinking that way about him. The clock was ticking, and she wasn’t about to get involved with a man for just one night. Especially when she knew only the barest of facts about him.
But as she gathered her clothes and toiletries, it occurred to her that what she had told him earlier in the lobby—that she knew more about him than he realized—was true.
He was a good man, and she could trust him. She knew it.
Lily stepped into the bathroom and cocked her head. Something was off about it, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She shut and locked the door, coming face-to-face with Komarov’s lavender shirt hanging from the hook on the back of the door.
She couldn’t help it. She leaned in and took a deep breath.
Mmm. It smelled like him, only more concentrated. Pure sexy male. The tang of his aftershave, a subtle hint of soap, and even the bite of his sweat. The pleasure centers in her brain lit up like wildfire, and she pushed away. She could not afford to get even more turned on by him. Not after ogling him just now and making a fool of herself. Getting distracted by his hotness would only mean more opportunity to be a fool.
And she’d had enough of that this week. Hell, enough in the past few years.
She set her folded clothes on the toilet seat and her toiletries case on the counter, next to his, pulling out a few items and trying not to let her curiosity get the better of her, but she failed miserably.
She peeked inside his case.
What was it about this guy and her self-control? Even in her early days of dating Jason, when they were at their hottest and heaviest, she’d never felt like she couldn’t stop herself from touching him, from knowing him in every way.
But less than an hour in Komarov’s presence and she wanted to burrow deep inside of him and never come out. He pulled emotions out of her that she rarely showed to anyone but her family, and all within minutes of their meeting.
She gently rummaged through his toiletries. Dental floss, an unlabeled tube of something, an old travel bottle of conditioner, and—three condoms? The curiosity was practically killing her. Was he the kind of guy who packed them, just in case, or did he regularly have sex on the road?
Lily wrinkled her nose and slid one out of the case. Size large. She gulped. Well, she knew that already, but having it confirmed was doing something funny to the place between her thighs. She checked the expiration date. Less than one year from now. These had been bought quite some time ago, then.
It shouldn’t have been important. But she couldn’t stop herself from feeling relieved that they weren’t freshly bought condoms. Now her imagination was running wild, thinking about how she would straddle him, roll one of these on, and then mount him, letting him stretch her, taking all of him.
At that moment, she knew it would be great. Scorching hot. The best sex of her life, and what sex should be like.
The thought that she would be teased like this with something that she couldn’t have—wouldn’t take, anyway—was too depressing. She slid the condom back into the case and turned on the shower, stepping inside with a sigh.
That’s when she figured out what had been off about the bathroom when she had first entered. The porcelain tub was freezing cold. There had been no steam fogging the mirror and warming the bathroom.
Komarov had taken an extremely cold shower.
…
Bruno had just taken the coldest damned shower of his life. Too bad, because only a few minutes out of that polar-ice-cap-degree cold and he was practically sweating with the need to release himself inside of Lily. The way she had looked him over—leisurely this t
ime, with eyes burning hot and ready—had almost destroyed his willpower.
But he would not hook up with an unknown woman in a hotel room in Chile. Or anywhere, for that matter.
As much as he liked to fantasize about a one-night stand with her, in truth it wasn’t his style. Even his shortest relationship ever had still lasted two months, until Mami and Rosa had sat him down and explained that Natalie had to go.
That was the only time they’d directly interfered with his love life. Mami dropped hints regularly, and sometimes gave outright suggestions, but they had never said anything about the individual women he dated. He could see the disapproval on their faces, though, every time he brought home another one, just like the ones before. Nice enough girls, with no particular aspirations other than to be a rich man’s wife, give him babies, and go to lunch or play tennis with friends.
Natalie hadn’t been nice enough, though, and her cattiness had been the reason why his mother and eldest sister had asked him to break it off.
But he supposed that some part of him had been choosing that kind of woman on purpose. Precisely because all they had wanted was marriage to someone with deep pockets, one wealthy man interchangeable with another, he had felt safe in the knowledge that he would never have settled down with any of them. He had wanted more. So much more, he realized, that he had been afraid that he would never find it. He would be doomed to hoping and searching for something that would never come his way. So he had dated women with absolutely no potential for becoming his lifelong partner, not even bothering to take a chance on someone more suited to him lest she turn out to be less than perfect.
Lily, though…she was someone he wanted to gamble on. To spend more time with. The thought jarred him momentarily.
But why? He had been in the world for long enough to know that he was tired of avoiding commitment. Lily had been a surprise, but already she was proving to be a refreshing change from the demands of his life, which he hadn’t really realized until today were pretty intense.
He wondered where she lived, if it was anywhere close to Napa Valley.