by Lisa Bingham
She trembled and her palms eagerly explored Alex’s body in an attempt to sate her need to touch him. She pushed his shirt up, her fingers splaying over the warmth of his chest, absorbing the heat of his skin and the strength of his form.
“Riley, Riley,” he whispered against her ear before his mouth dipped and he nuzzled the side of her neck.
She gasped as a bolt of sheer passion raced through her body. She didn’t protest as his own fingers slid under her clothes and cupped her breasts, making her nipples harden.
“Maybe we should stop,” Alex whispered against the crook of her shoulder.
“Yes, oh, yes.”
Then they were kissing again, deeply, soulfully, their bodies straining to grow closer. Riley knew that if something didn’t happen soon, both of them would be stripping their clothes off and—
No.
No!
Groaning, she rolled to the floor, then stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore her baser needs. From above her on the couch, she heard Alex doing the same.
Finally, after several long moments, he was the first to break the silence.
“What the hell is happening to us?”
“I don’t know,” she said at long last. “But this…can’t happen again.”
There was no answer from the couch, and she frowned.
“Alex?”
“You’re right,” he agreed slowly, and she was perversely thrilled by the reluctance evident in his voice. “We can’t do that again.”
“No. We can’t.”
But if the elevator hadn’t rattled low in the building, signaling that James had returned from his errands, Riley feared that neither she nor Alex would have been able to keep their promises.
IT WAS DIFFICULT to look Dannette in the eye the next few days. Every time Riley saw the woman, she felt her cheeks heat up with guilt. She did her best to act natural—she bent over backward to be solicitous, praying all the time that Dannette didn’t suspect a thing. But somehow she kept thinking that Dannette was watching her, studying her, whenever they were together.
Riley’s overactive guilty conscience might have been to blame, but she was sure that Dannette was spending more time in their presence than she had mere days before. Every time she glanced over at Dannette, Riley felt guilty for kissing Dannette’s fiancé. And liking it. Loving it. Craving it.
Wishing that it would happen again and again and again.
Stop it!
Riley stirred the concoction being heated over the double boiler and checked the candy thermometer. Just a few more minutes. She’d best be keeping her mind on the task, or she’d be ruining this batch of truffles. Alex would never let her hear the end of his teasing if the confections weren’t perfect, she was sure. He still doubted her “chocolate-shop” plans were genuine, and she was intent on proving him wrong.
“That smells wonderful.”
Riley jumped when Dannette spoke from a spot just over her shoulder.
“Thanks.”
Riley did her best to appear innocent and carefree, but Alex made the mistake of walking into the kitchen at that moment. Their gazes locked for a fleeting second, then Riley forced herself to study the thermometer with much more concentration than it deserved.
“Dannette, can you tear off a long sheet of wax paper and lay it over the bar, please?”
Dannette grabbed the box, but after extracting a length only six inches long, she said, “You’re out.”
“Damn,” Riley muttered under her breath. She’d been using waxed paper as a replacement for the marble candy board she always used.
“I’ll run down to the corner market and get you some more,” Dannette offered. Scooping her purse from one of the stools, she hurried to the elevator. “Stall the chocolate. I shouldn’t be gone more than five or ten minutes.”
“Stall chocolate?” Alex asked. “How does a person stall chocolate?”
But Riley didn’t answer. She couldn’t. If she spoke, she knew she would reveal her desire and longing for him, and her overwhelming need to draw him to the floor and ravage him.
A pregnant silence filled the room, then Alex raked his fingers through his hair. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Riley said, trying to diffuse the situation by pretending to be oblivious to the thick sexual tension in the air.
“I mean the minute Dannette is gone, we can’t help wanting to recreate that little episode we had on the couch.”
“I think you’re overreacting,” she said.
Overreacting? You’re the one who wants to tear his shirt off.
Trying to ignore the effect Alex was having on her, Riley dipped her fingertip into the velvety goo of chocolate and lifted it to her lips.
She hadn’t touched her tongue when Alex clasped her wrist, forcing her to meet his gaze. His expression was full of hunger for her.
He drew her finger to his own mouth and sucked the chocolate from her skin. As he did so, her knees threatened to collapse as arousal shot through her.
“It’s good,” he whispered around her finger, and she shuddered when she felt the words take form in his mouth. “It’s very good.”
Then he was pulling her close, kissing her with all the pent-up passion and frustration that had been building between them for days. His hands roamed over her body and his tongue plundered the sweetness of her mouth.
It took all the will she could muster for Riley to prop her hands between them and push him away.
As soon as he met her gaze, Alex grimaced.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—to you, or to Dannette. You both deserve more.”
“More?”
“Loyalty. Respect. Honesty. I’ve always been your friend, but by kissing you this way, I’ve changed things irreparably.”
“I think you’re being somewhat overdramatic.”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “Added to that, is the fact that I’m being unfaithful to my fiancée.”
“It isn’t as if we made love,” she protested.
“No, but we both know that a minute or two longer on that couch and we would have been past the point of no return.”
She flushed.
“I don’t know why I can’t seem to control myself, but this kind of behavior has to stop,” he said, talking more to himself than to her. “I’m not being fair to either of you.”
“What if I don’t want you to be fair?”
The moment the words burst from her lips, she longed to bring them back. What was she insinuating? That he make love to her behind Dannette’s back? Or that he renege on his agreement to marry the woman?
Alex’s eyes narrowed and he stared at her long and hard. As he opened his mouth to respond, the rattle of the elevator signaled Dannette’s return.
As she turned back to her chocolate, Riley cursed her luck. Why hadn’t Dannette waited one more minute? Just one. Maybe then, Riley would know if Alex wanted her as much as she wanted him. Not just for a night or two of passion…
But for many more nights to come.
7
FOR SEVERAL DAYS, Alex tried his best to avoid Riley, which was difficult, considering he’d delegated his duties at the office to his assistant. His days were spent accompanying Dannette to various wedding boutiques or with Darmette and Riley at the chocolate shop, completing renovations.
For the most part, Alex had been successful in keeping his baser instincts in line. He’d tried to ignore how Riley moved in her jeans, or the way the simple T-shirts she wore displayed a faint dampness between her breasts after she’d been working too long in the heat. He’d even done his best to concentrate on Dannette, who seemed to be growing more relaxed and free-spirited. So much more like…
Riley.
Alex took a sip of coffee, then abandoned his study of the Chicago lights out the living-room window. He hadn’t seen a thing for the better part of an hour. Instead, he’d been looking inside himself—all without finding any sati
sfactory answers. If anything, he’d grown more aware of the silence of the apartment and the fact that he and Riley were alone, that she was in her bedroom, asleep, and probably wearing those outrageous, glow-in-the-dark boxers she’d bought.
Or maybe she was wearing his shirt again.
Turning from the window, Alex tried his best to avoid the inevitable. He sank into the couch and surrounded himself with paperwork from the office. He even kept a calculator in one hand as if it was an anchor to reality.
But no matter how hard he focused, no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t ignore the siren song being sent his way by the woman in the other room.
In his mind’s eye, he could see her as she’d been that night she’d returned from Africa. She’d been wearing nothing but his shirt, and her limbs had been long and lithe and tanned to a golden brown.
Dammit.
Maybe if he got something to drink.
He stood, but as soon as he straightened, he found his steps altering from their path to the kitchen. As if pulled by some unseen force, he made his way down the hall. Propping his hands on either side of the doorway, he stopped in the threshold, his gaze moving over the woman in the bed, straying from her tousled curls to the soft mounds of her breasts and the length of her shapely legs, thrust out from under the covers.
She was beautiful. More beautiful than a woman had a right to be. Even in sleep. Granted, she often behaved in an unconventional manner, but in Alex’s opinion, that fact added even more to her appeal. He didn’t think he could ever feel as much for any woman as he did for her—not even Dannette. There was too much history between them.
As if becoming aware of his scrutiny, she shifted and her lashes flickered. In the darkness, he saw the spark of curiosity enter her eyes as sleep faded away.
“Alex?”
Alex knew he should move away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. His feet were rooted to the floor.
Taking a deep breath, she stretched, then sat up in bed. The cover dropped from her chest to her lap, and he realized she was wearing his shirt. She’d probably worn it to bed each night since her arrival.
The thought alone was enough to cause a warmth to settle in his loins, and he shifted slightly in an effort to waylay the sensation.
Riley bent her legs and wrapped her arms around her shins.
“You should be asleep,” she commented, her voice slipping like the caress of a finger down his spine.
“So should you.”
“You woke me up.”
“Touché.”
She didn’t speak, content to let him gather his own thoughts. But he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. For now it was enough to be here, near her.
“Why did you leave Africa?” he asked, remembering the question that had needled him since her arrival.
She shrugged. “It was time to go.”
“But you’d planned to stay at least another week.”
Her face clouded and she waved her hand in dismissal. “I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
When he wouldn’t relent, she pulled a face, obviously uneasy about revealing so much of herself.
“Come on,” he urged. “You’ve never kept secrets from me before.”
She took her time, and he remained silent, knowing that if he prompted her to speak, she would stubbornly refuse to tell him anything.
Finally, she admitted, “I got sick.”
“What?” he breathed, a delayed sense of panic flooding his limbs.
She shrugged as if to lessen the import of her words. “I caught a sort of…bug.”
“Meaning what, exactly?”
“I guess it was all of the insects, or something.” She offered a halfhearted laugh. “Maybe they were undercooked.”
“Don’t joke, Riley.”
She pleated the sheets with her fingers. “I was in the hospital with amoebic dysentery.”
Alex felt as if the floor had dropped away. “What?”
“It was touch and go for a while.”
He gripped the doorjamb to keep from stumbling toward her.
“Dammit, Riley, why didn’t you get in touch with me?”
She licked her lips. “I was out of it for a while. After the worst was over, I decided not to bother you.”
“Bother me?” he whispered hoarsely. “Hell, Riley, how can you even think that I’d be bothered?”
She didn’t meet his gaze. “By the time I was in a position to call you, I’d received the invitation for the wedding, so I knew I’d be home soon. Anyway—” she took a deep breath “—my illness made me come to terms with a lot of things. The fact that I’ve been bouncing around the world too much, that—as you put it—I need some roots. I discovered I’d been dreadfully homesick for some time.”
“Riley Page homesick?” he whispered in mock disbelief. But his heart was still pounding from the news that she’d been incredibly ill and hadn’t told him. “You’ll have to think of a better lie than that,” he offered, but the teasing tone he employed rang hollowly.
“I’m not lying.”
When she looked at him, her eyes glittered with defiance. “Maybe I’ve grown tired of a wandering life. Maybe it’s time I settled down for good.”
“It would never work. You were born to wander.”
“Maybe.” She cleared her throat, ridding it of the wistfulness it had contained. “But I still need to take a rest from my traveling now and then.”
“So that’s why you’re so determined to open a candy shop?”
“I thought it would be a good way to offer me some income, yet still prove flexible enough for me to continue with my photographic work. I’m sure I can find a trustworthy manager to watch the shop whenever I’m gone.” She grimaced. “Maybe even Dannette would be willing to accept the offer. She seems as excited by the project as I am—even more so sometimes.”
Riley was attempting to draw Alex’s mind away from her illness, but Alex didn’t follow her lead. He was shaken by the idea that Riley had been severely ill and he hadn’t been at her bedside.
Damn her hide, why hadn’t she called him? If she had, she might have forced him to see that…to realize…
He wanted to hold her close and never let go.
“Dannette might be too busy to help with the chocolate shop,” he said quickly, knowing the time had come to take Riley’s lead. They both needed to talk about inconsequential matters.
“Oh?” Riley drawled, arching a brow. Her quick wit returned full thrust. “I didn’t think Dannette was pursuing any particular career.”
“Only that of being my wife.”
“And you think that will need her full-time attention?”
“Once we have children, yes.”
“Children.”
He couldn’t ignore the way the word was offered with a note of wonder.
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d want children, Alex.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. You never had brothers or sisters.”
“I had you.”
“But you’ve never been around a baby before.”
“So what’s to know? You love them, you feed them, you clothe them.”
“Such profound wisdom from a man who hasn’t even married yet.”
He paused, then admitted, “But that’s the reason I’m getting married.”
Her brows rose. “Is that right? I suppose you’ve given the matter a good deal of thought.”
“Yes.”
“And the fact that you’re on the downhill side to forty has something to do with your views.”
“Probably.”
“Is Dannette aware of your motives for marrying her?”
“Yes.”
Her astonishment deepened.
“But Dannette is also aware that I am very fond of her.”
“Fond,” Riley repeated, her nose wrinkling. “Is that all? Are you only fond of her?”
“I’m very fond of her.”
“Very fond. I’m su
re that makes all the difference,” she retorted.
“It’s the best I can do.”
She snorted in disgust. “If you think that, you’re selling yourself short. You’ve doted on me for years. Isn’t that love, Alex?”
He wanted to dodge that question, but Riley’s gaze had become bright and intense.
“I suppose so. But it’s a different kind of love.”
“How is it different?”
He fought the urge to shift like a naughty little boy.
“It’s just…different. A married couple should have more than friendship between them.”
“Is that right?” Her expression warned him that she hadn’t finished torturing him with the current subject. “What else is needed? I’d really like to know since-according to your own admission—neither of us has found a person to inspire fireworks.”
“Maybe fireworks don’t exist.”
“I refuse to be so pessimistic.”
“Then maybe the two of us are far too difficult to live with and no one’s really given us a chance.”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
He pushed himself away from the doorjamb, knowing that he had to leave now, before he strode to the bed and scooped her into his arms. Riley looked so adorable, her face freshly washed, her expression full of mischief.
Growling at his own weak will, Alex turned on his heel.
“Good night, Riley,” he muttered.
“Sweet dreams!” she called.
Sweet dreams, hell. He was destined for a very long, very cold shower.
DANNETTE SANK onto a crate and sighed. The renovations had been going very well with her help, and since usually she was so filled with chatter about the shop, Riley, who had been stirring a can of varnish, felt a twinge of unease. Surely Dannette hadn’t sensed the sexual tension between Riley and Alex?
“What’s wrong, Dannette?”
Dannette grimaced. “I received a phone call from my matron of honor just before I came.”
Her chin wobbled, and Riley felt such a pang of relief that the bride-to-be’s mood had nothing to do with her that she set down the paint stick and crouched at eye level in front of Dannette.
“My matron of honor broke h-her leg.” Dannette began to sob. “She’s been so busy lately, sh-she didn’t even p-plan my sh-shower.”