Off Limits Lovers

by Reese Ryan

  Roarke opened the door and extended a hand, indicating she should enter first.

  Annabel grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Then she called good-night over her shoulder as she ascended the narrow spiral staircase to her room.

  She flopped down on the mattress in the dark and stared at the ceiling, her heart still racing.

  * * *

  Roarke sank onto the sofa and scanned television stations in search of something tolerable to watch. He settled on a home renovation show hosted by a husband-and-wife team with four adorable little kids.

  He’d hoped that the discussion of changing rooflines and possible loadbearing walls would cool down the fire raging inside him that made him feel like he was going to combust. The ice-cold bottle of water on his lap had helped abate the raging hard-on he’d been left with. But he couldn’t stop thinking of that kiss and how her mouth had tasted. Or how the smooth skin of her back had felt beneath his palms as he’d glided them up her back, beneath the little tank top she wore sans bra.

  Roarke sighed, angry with himself for almost breaking his number one rule.

  When he’d started his law practice, he’d drafted a set of personal conduct rules for himself. It was his way of ensuring he would never become the kind of businessman who played fast and loose with ethics, as his father, Sterling Perry, did.

  Do Not Sleep With Clients was at the top of the list.

  Besides, Annabel had just gone through a breakup. Whether or not she was willing to admit it, even to herself, she had to be experiencing some level of vulnerability. And maybe a bit of fear that she’d bitten off more than she could chew with her new business.

  He wouldn’t take advantage of Annabel. Wouldn’t capitalize on the volatile mix of emotions she must be feeling.

  No matter how much he wanted her.

  Roarke turned off the television, went upstairs, stripped out of his clothes and took a cold shower. He fell into bed, exhausted. Still, he was unable to sleep.

  The kiss he and Annabel shared played over and over again in his restless mind.

  Nine

  Roarke awakened to the smell of coffee and frying bacon and the sound of pots clattering in the kitchen below.

  Annabel.

  He checked his watch. It was well after nine in the morning. Much later than he’d intended to sleep, but then again by the time he’d finally drifted off, it’d been nearly 4:00 a.m.

  Roarke scrambled out of bed, threw on a shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. He stumbled into the bathroom to find Annabel’s toothbrush and skincare products. Her bottle of shower gel sat on the side of the tub.

  There was something oddly intimate about standing in the tiny bathroom where she’d obviously already showered and gotten ready for the day.

  He made his way down to the kitchen a few minutes later.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.” A broad smile spread across Annabel’s face and lit her brown eyes. “A few more hours and I was going to hold a mirror under your nose to make sure you were still breathing.”

  She wore a short white belted dress in a crocheted pattern and a pair of sandals with little tiny bells on them. Her hair was swept up into a loose topknot that shifted when she moved.

  God, was she beautiful, standing there in his kitchen with the sunlight streaming on her face.

  “Good morning, Annabel. You slept well, I take it?”

  “I did. And I hope you don’t mind, but you were dead to the world earlier this morning, so I borrowed the keys to the rental and made a trip to the general store up the road. I just picked up a few items for breakfast and lunch. I figured we’d be here at least until then.”

  He was, in fact, the kind of guy who worried about following a rental agreement to the letter. That meant only allowing the designated drivers, per said agreement, to take the wheel. But it was after the fact. What was the point of bringing up a little thing like a contract now?

  “No, I don’t mind at all.” He shrugged. “And you didn’t have to make breakfast. We could’ve gone out somewhere this morning. But everything smells so good,” he added quickly. “Can I help with anything?”

  “Just grab yourself a cup of coffee. Our waffles should be done shortly, then we can have breakfast on the deck, if you’d like.”

  His mouth watered as she transferred slices of crispy bacon onto a platter. She caught him staring and took pity on him. She extended the platter toward him.

  He gratefully grabbed a slice. Taking a bite, he murmured with delight. There were few things in the world he appreciated more than a perfectly crispy slice of bacon.

  “Breakfast out on the deck sounds great.”

  “What time is your flight back to Dallas?” Annabel checked on the waffles, then closed the lid again.

  “I’m switching my flight. I’ll return to Dallas on Wednesday or Thursday.” He’d decided that sometime during the sleepless night. “That’ll give me time to talk to your ex and follow up on a few more leads with my father’s case.”

  “So you aren’t leaving today.” Annabel smiled. “I hope that means we don’t have to hurry back to Houston. I’d love to lie on the beach and get a little sun. Maybe go for a swim.”

  The thought of Annabel in a swimsuit made his heart thump harder and parts of his lower anatomy pay attention.

  “Uh...sure.” He shrugged, his brain too preoccupied with the image to come up with a good excuse for why they should hit the road back to Houston as soon as possible. “Why not?”

  “Fantastic. I happen to have my swimsuit. I love the water, so I keep it in my travel bag.” She poured herself a cup of orange juice and took a sip. “You should join me.”

  “I thought I’d get a little work in before we hit the road.”

  “Is there any reason you can’t work from the beach? Besides, it’s Sunday. Don’t you ever take a day off?”

  “Not really.” He shrugged. “I enjoy what I do, so it doesn’t feel so much like work. Besides, the people I fight for are counting on me. For a lot of them, I’m their last hope of getting justice. I don’t want to let them down.”

  “You really are a good guy, aren’t you, Roarke?” Her soft lips curved in a sweet smile, her eyes gleaming. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re like the anti-Sterling Perry.”

  “No offense taken.” Roarke couldn’t help laughing. He’d never used that exact phrase, but it was essentially how he ran his business. He’d ask himself what Sterling Perry would do when it came to matters of ethics. Then he’d do the opposite. “That’s essentially true.”

  “It’s great that you’re so dedicated to your clients. But I don’t think any of them would begrudge you a lazy Sunday afternoon, swimming in the ocean with a friend.”

  The words of his assistant, Marietta, played in his head as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

  Find yourself a nice young woman to settle down with, Roarke. You’re always fighting for other people’s happy endings. You deserve one, too.

  Marietta was an older woman who’d been married for more than thirty years and had half a dozen grandchildren. She accused him of running from emotional intimacy. As if he were terrified by the prospect. He wasn’t afraid of giving his heart to someone; he was simply a realist.

  Why set himself up for disaster?

  His parents’ marriage was certainly no road map to marital bliss. Even as a boy, he had clearly recognized how unhappy his mother was. And he honestly couldn’t remember a single instance in his life when his father had said the words I love you, son.

  Getting seriously involved and settling down nearly always spelled disaster for someone whose family had a relationship track record as dysfunctional as the Perrys’. His avoidance of relationships was a public service to women everywhere as far as he was concerned.

  “Roarke.” Annabel’s hand on his arm brought him out of his daz
e. “One waffle or two?”

  “Two.” He sipped his coffee as she moved about the kitchen, plating their bacon, scrambled eggs and waffles.

  They took their plates out onto the deck in the warm August sunshine. A gentle breeze rustled the strands of hair that had loosened and fallen on her shoulder.

  It had taken everything in him to stay in his seat, rather than reaching over and tucking the hair behind her ear.

  He took a bite of his Belgian waffle. Light and fluffy on the inside and crispy on the outside. She beamed at his involuntary moan.

  “I take it that you like the waffles.” She put a forkful of waffle and eggs in her mouth.

  “Sorry for the caveman manners. It’s been a long time since I had homemade waffles, and these are delicious,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

  “When I was a kid, I’d help my mom make breakfast on the weekends. It was one of my favorite times, because I got her all to myself while the rest of my family was still sleeping.” Her cheeks rose in a faint smile. “I don’t cook much else, but my breakfast game is tight.”

  Roarke smiled broadly. “It just so happens that breakfast is my favorite meal. In fact, I’ve been known to eat breakfast for dinner.”

  “Me, too.” She laughed. “Those breakfast-all-day restaurants are my jam.”

  They ate in silence for a few minutes as they watched the waters lap at the shore and people start to make their way out to the beach.

  Finally, he addressed the issue they were both carefully tiptoeing around.

  “About last night—”

  “If this is about the kiss, we don’t need to talk about it.” Annabel frowned, returning her attention to her plate.

  “We do, if we’re going to be working together.”

  “You regret it. I don’t. End of story.” She stood suddenly and picked up her unfinished plate before heading inside.

  * * *

  Annabel scraped the rest of her breakfast down the garbage disposal and rinsed her dishes before arranging them in the dishwasher. She washed and dried her hands, not reacting when the door slid open behind her. When she’d finished at the sink, Roarke was there, blocking the path between her and the stairs.

  “Annabel, can we talk about this?” He set his dishes in the sink and grasped her hand before she could walk away.

  “I’m pretty clear on the situation, Roarke. What is there for us to discuss?” She looked beyond him, angry with herself for letting him know how bothered she was by his rejection.

  “An awful lot.” He lifted her chin, gently forcing her gaze to meet his. “So please, hear me out.”

  She took a step backward, beyond his reach, and folded her arms. Her gaze didn’t quite meet his.

  Roarke dragged a hand through his annoyingly sexy crop of bedhead. “I’m obviously attracted to you, Annabel. More than I have been to anyone in a very long time.”

  “Then what’s the problem? You know I feel the same.”

  “You’re my client.” He sighed, leaning against the wall behind him. “And quite honestly, even if you weren’t, it would be a bad idea for us to get involved.”

  “Why, Roarke?” She tipped her chin, her heart racing.

  “Where do I begin? You’re young, bright-eyed and optimistic. And I’m jaded and bitter, because I’ve seen too much of the ugliness that human beings perpetrate against one another. You live in Houston, I live in Dallas. You’re a Currin, I’m a Perry. There will always be people in our circle who’ll believe that I’m Ryder’s son. Not to mention that you were engaged to another man this time last week.” He seemed breathless after running through the lengthy list of reasons.

  Valid points, she had to admit.

  “Forget everything you just said and answer one question.” She stepped closer, her gaze fully meeting his now. “Why are you attracted to me, Roarke?”

  He sighed and his hand drifted to her cheek again. “How could I not be, Annabel? You’re smart and beautiful. Witty. Just enough of a smart-ass. And when I’m with you, I don’t feel quite so bitter and jaded. I feel...light. Happy. Like the world is full of possibilities rather than obstacles.”

  Her eyes danced as she leaned into his touch. “Well, that’s one hell of a first impression.”

  He chuckled and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “My thoughts exactly.”

  Annabel fiddled with the buttons of his shirt, her eyes meeting his. “I don’t care what anyone else, including our fathers, might think. And I don’t see you as being bitter or jaded. I see a man willing to slay dragons for the defenseless, even at great personal cost to himself. A man who gets my warped sense of humor and who is just the right amount of smart-ass, too. You don’t often encounter a combination like that.”

  She rose onto her toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

  He brushed his lips over her cheek, then kissed the side of her face. “You’re just out of a relationship, Annabel,” he whispered, his warm breath on her ear. “You may feel very differently once the smoke clears.”

  “I won’t,” she insisted, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Our timing isn’t ideal, I know, but there’s something special about this that’s worth exploring.”

  He stared at her, and it seemed as if time stood still. He shut his eyes momentarily, then shook his head. “You’ve already had your heart broken. I won’t do it again, no matter how much I want you.”

  He released her and backed away.

  “If that’s how you feel.” Annabel wrapped her arms around herself in response to the immediate chill that suddenly made her shiver. “Do I still have time to swim?”

  “Yes, of course.” He nodded, a pained look on his handsome face.

  “Then I’ll see you on the beach.” She slipped past him and hurried up the stairs, her hands shaking.

  * * *

  Later that evening, Roarke pulled his rental beside Annabel’s black import in the parking garage near the Crystal Ballroom in downtown Houston. He got out of the vehicle and retrieved her overnight bag from the cargo area in the back.

  The hour-long ride had consisted mostly of silence, punctuated by polite, impersonal conversation or questions about her case.

  She’d answered his questions civilly. Had even forced a smile whenever the situation had called for it. But it was very different from the conversation they’d had on the way to Galveston when they’d both been relaxed and eager to get to know one another.

  Something deep inside his chest screamed that he was a fool to walk away from the woman who’d made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in so long. But he’d created his code of ethics for a reason, and it had served him well. So he would stay the course.

  Annabel popped her trunk, and he put her bag inside before closing the lid.

  “I’ve got your cell number.” He patted the phone in his shirt pocket. “I’ll update you as soon as I’ve talked to Mason, all right?”

  “Your retainer! I never wrote you that check. I’ll do it now.” She moved to open her clutch, but he put a hand over hers.

  “I know where to find you, so let’s just see what happens first. Text me and let me know you got home safely, okay?” He leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek.

  She turned her head, tilting her chin up, her soft lips brushing his. Annabel pressed a kiss to one corner of his mouth and then the other.

  His heart beat faster and his skin flushed with heat. Roarke knew he should pull away. Stop the kiss before it went any further. But he wanted to kiss her again. To taste her sweet lips and hold her in his arms one last time.

  His mouth crashed against hers as he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her against the hard length of his body. He tilted her chin up and her lips parted, allowing his tongue to move against hers. His hands roamed the smooth skin of her back, as he swallowed her soft murmurs and kissed her unt
il they were both gasping for breath.

  Roarke broke their kiss, but neither of them stepped out of the embrace. Finally, he heaved a heavy sigh. “Good night, Annabel.”

  “Roarke...” She held on to him, her eyes meeting his. “Your objections about us... You’re assuming I want another serious relationship. What if I don’t?”

  “You’re an all-or-nothing kind of girl.” He gave her a pained smile. “I doubt you’ve ever done anything with less than one hundred percent of your heart.”

  “Are you a lawyer or a mind reader, Two Pies?” She offered a half-hearted smile.

  “Both.” He chuckled. Reluctantly, he released her from his embrace. He opened the door of her black, hybrid BMW 330e and she slid behind the wheel.

  Roarke watched her drive off, already missing the heat of her body and the sweet taste of her mouth.

  * * *

  Annabel’s hands were still shaking and her heart still raced from their kiss. Her brain was flooded with all of the reasons she shouldn’t want to get involved with Roarke. And yet, she did.

  There really was something truly remarkable about him. Something that made her feel that the world would be a little less palatable without him in it. It seemed ridiculous, she realized. She and Roarke barely knew each other and yet, in some ways, she felt as if she’d known him forever.

  Annabel called Frankie on her Bluetooth. As soon as her friend answered, Annabel smiled.

  “Frankie, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know I’m back from Galveston. Roarke dropped me off at my car. I’m heading home now.”

  “So,” Frankie said, drawing out the word. “How was your stay at the beach last night?”

  “We had a lovely time.”

  Annabel realized she sounded dreamy when she said the words. She couldn’t help feeling that way about Roarke. But his insistence that their relationship remain strictly business caused a stone to settle in the pit of her stomach.

  “A lovely time?” Frankie repeated. “As in...?”