by Carmen Green
“You should have let me talk to her,” Chris said. He’d listened to the entire conversation.
“Why?” She wondered why he was looking at her with a grin on his face.
“You should have told her you were in the jewelry store and you left out the reason why,” he said. “You’re a rotten liar.”
She frowned at him. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Lies can hurt people.”
“Some lies hurt. Sometimes the truth hurts,” he said calmly. “You’re letting Marc’s lies control you. Miss Gert loves you. Tell her the truth. You’ve got nothing to lose.”
She stood and the level of her frustration rose with her. She didn’t have anything to lose? “I know she loves me. You want to know why? I do everything in my power to make her happy. If she wants beets for lunch then guess what? Beets for lunch it is. I hate beets but I’d eat a refrigerator full of them for her.”
He came to his feet and said softly, “She knows you’d do anything for her and that’s all the more reason to tell her. She gave Marc access to her safe deposit.”
“You don’t get it.” She shook her head. How could he understand? With his looks and personality, he never had to worry about being alone. He never had to wonder what he’d done to make his parents not love him like she had. “She made me responsible for her necklace, not my parents, not her lawyer, but me. She has certain expectations of me and I’m not going to disappoint her. Ever.”
“Are you saying that you can’t make a mistake? That’s crazy. You’re not perfect. Nobody’s perfect.”
“I don’t want to be perfect, just the woman she expects me to be.”
“So you put on a performance for her and never let her see the real you? Isn’t that the same thing Marc did to you?”
His words were like hard, stinging blows. “No! I don’t steal. I don’t cheat.”
“Yes, you do. You’re cheating yourself and Miss Gert out of the real Renee Foster. Why are you so afraid to be yourself?”
“I’m being myself.” But even as she spoke, she began to doubt her own words.
“Where are your diplomas?”
“My diplomas? What do they have to do with anything?”
“Tell me where they are.”
She shook her head in confusion. “They’re in a box in the hall closet.”
“So you’re hiding them, too?”
“I’m not hiding anything. Where do you come off telling me this? You don’t know me at all.”
His smile was slow, dark and sexy. “Oh, I know you,” he said, then walked toward her. “I know you’re stubborn. You’re smart…”
She took a step back. Her stomach felt fluttery like she’d crested the highest hill of a roller coaster and was about to take a plunge. He looked at her as if he could see something within her that no one else had. Her pulse began to race as he continued to speak, drawing closer and closer until he was standing in front of her.
“…you’re loyal and you’re sexy as hell.” His tone was deep and seductive.
His subtle, masculine scent filled her senses and she found it hard to breathe. “You’re lying.”
Slowly he lowered his head until his lips were but a whisper away from her own. “Renee,” he whispered. “I never lie about sexy.” He turned his head and kissed her cheek.
Her eyes widened in surprise as he left a trail of warm, lingering kisses down her cheek to the edge of her mouth. His lips lingered on her skin in a slow, seductive dance. With his tongue, he touched the edge of her mouth and she felt her nipples harden and contract as if he’d caressed them. Her breath quickened and she parted her lips and ached with anticipation.
His body was close, so close, and yet he used only his lips to touch, taste and caress her. Desire flowed through her, making her vividly aware of the heat radiating from his body. She shivered with longing as he rubbed his cheek against hers, loving the hard, rough feel of his jaw against her skin. He made her feel special, wanted and desired.
He pulled back and studied her. His gaze went to her mouth and the hunger in his eyes was hot, raw and intense. She felt her knees shake. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, feel his hard body next to hers. She wanted.
They stood almost touching for a few long seconds then Renee met his hot, patient gaze. In an instant, she understood what he wanted.
She closed the tiny distance that separated them. Wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her body against his, she felt the hard length of him. Then, as if he’d been waiting for her touch, he pressed his lips to hers. She parted her lips and welcomed his tongue. She tasted a hint of peach cobbler on his lips. The combination of Chris and peach cobbler went to her head like a shot of finely aged rum. Her heart raced as her tongue mated with his. She groaned in protest when he ended the kiss.
“Renee.” His voice was deep and husky.
Slowly she opened her eyes and met his heated gaze.
“I want you,” he said. His words made her tremble with desire. “I want the real Renee Mitchell Foster.” He stepped back and out of their embrace. “When you’re ready to let her out, let me know. She’s the woman I want.” He took another step back, turned and walked out of the room.
Renee stood in shocked silence, watching him leave. He was just going to leave? He got her all worked up and he was leaving?
A few seconds later, anger and hurt replaced the shock and she began pacing. Who did he think he was? She knew exactly who she was. She was Renee Mitchell Foster. She lived in this house because she wanted to live here permanently. She’d decorated it the way she’d wanted. So what if her diplomas were packed in a box—they were hers and she could do anything she wanted with them. She stopped. Couldn’t she? Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. Her diplomas had been hanging on the wall in her den and for the first time, she’d had them all displayed until her parents had come through town.
“Why do you have them all here? One or two are fine but this—” Her mother motioned to the wall. “This won’t do. Aunt Gert’s home was always polished. What’s she going to think when she sees this?”
She’d taken them down that day. Renee walked to her chair and sat down. She’d worked darn hard to earn each and every one of her diplomas, but she’d packed them in a box and put them in the closet because she was afraid her mother was right.
Okay, she was definitely hiding things from Aunt Gert concerning Marc and the necklace. She had a valid reason for it, but her diplomas? She realized she didn’t really have a reason to keep them in the closet. It didn’t mean she was hiding who she was or that she didn’t know who she was. It meant…She slumped in the chair. It meant that Chris had a point. She’d copped out and done something to please her mother, not what she really wanted. Wasn’t it time to do exactly what she wanted for a change?
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it is.” She walked out of her office and down the hall to the closet. It didn’t take her long to drag the box out of the closet and into the den. She peeled back the packing tape and opened the box. Carefully, she removed each of the framed diplomas and leaned them against the wall. She wouldn’t hang them up tonight, but she would hang them.
How had he known? No one other than her mother had mentioned her diplomas, yet Chris had not only noticed but understood what their lack of appearance meant. She’d moved here because this was where she wanted to be. Turning it into her home had been her mission when she’d learned of Marc’s deception. For the most part she’d done it. Everything was as she wanted it to be except for this one wall. What else had she copped out on?
She turned and screamed. Chris stood in the hall watching her as silent and still as a panther stalking its prey.
“Where did you come from?” she asked, pressing a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart. It wasn’t fear alone that made her heart race.
“Upstairs,” he replied as he walked into the den. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
How had he gone up the stairs and come down them without her h
earing him? She lowered her hand. “Well, you did.”
“I apologize.” He went to the wall where she’d placed her diplomas. “Do you need help with these?”
She started to say no, but then shrugged her shoulders. She’d planned on hanging them anyway. “Sure. Why not?” She went into the kitchen pantry where she kept a toolbox.
With Chris’s help, they had the diplomas on the wall in no time. She took a step back and looked at the wall. “I like them better hanging than in the closet.”
“They look good,” he said.
She kept her gaze on the wall. If she didn’t look at him then maybe she could say what needed to be said. “I’m the odd duck in the family, at school, even at work. I’m not like everyone else so I have to work really hard to even come close to fitting in. I’m never going to fit in but it’s easier for everyone if I let people see who they want to see.”
Out the corner of her eye, she saw him turn to face her. She couldn’t look at him. Not yet.
“But that’s not the real you,” he said.
“A lot of times it is, but sometimes it’s not. No one has ever wanted to see the real me.”
“I do,” he said softly.
She closed her eyes. His words warmed a part of her heart that she’d closed off years ago. She turned to him and saw honesty shining in his pale brown eyes and realized she wanted to be totally honest with him. “Okay. I’ll be honest with you but you’ve got to be honest with me, too.”
“I’ll be as honest as I can. There are some things that I can’t or won’t tell you, but I won’t lie to you.”
“That’s fair.” She grasped her hands suddenly, not sure what to do with herself. “So how does this work? Do we ask questions of each other? Tell each other stories about our past? What?”
He smiled. “It doesn’t matter to me. Why don’t you decide how you want it to work.”
It was hard to think when he smiled at her like that. He personified everything masculine and strong. From his broad shoulders to his long, muscular thighs, he was her greatest temptation. “We’ll ask questions. I guess.” For the life of her she couldn’t think of a single question that didn’t involve sex in some way. Her very analytical mind was more accustomed to remembering mathematical theorems, and yet she remembered in vivid detail the feel of his lips on hers. “I don’t know the right thing to ask you,” she said, then remembered. “Oh, wait. I’ve got a book.”
He raised a brow. “A book.”
“Yes. Hold on. I’ll get it.” She hurried down the hall to the library. The book would make it easier for her to ask questions and hopefully keep her occupied enough to control the powerful attraction she felt for him. She found the book and returned to stand in front of him. “Here it is,” she said, holding up the book so he could see the title.
“Ten Thousand Great Questions,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Are you serious?”
“We don’t have to ask them all.”
Deadpan, he said, “Thank God.”
“Here.” She opened the book and flipped a few pages. “I’ll start with an easy one. What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue,” he said with no hesitation.
“Mine is emerald-green.”
“I’ve never seen you wear that color. Everything I’ve seen you wear has been black or white.”
“Most of my clothes are black, white or a combination of the two. It’s easier for me.” She held out the book. “Your turn.”
He shook his head and said coolly, calmly, “Thanks, but I don’t need the book to ask my question.”
She frowned. “You don’t?” Then she remembered where he worked. “FBI. Right, I forgot.” She walked to the sofa and sat down. Her stomach felt jumpy. She was almost as nervous now as she’d been in Terrell’s office.
“Do you want me?”
Her eyes widened with surprise. Why couldn’t he have started with an easier question? The nervousness she’d felt moments before was nothing compared to what she felt now. Memories of past rejections and old fears had her mouth going suddenly dry. She turned her head and stared into the empty fireplace.
Do you want me? It was such a simple question. Her answer would change everything between them. This she knew for certain. She folded her hands together and resisted the urge to run rather than expose the truth. She had to tell him the truth. He deserved the truth. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and gather her courage. She turned to meet his waiting gaze and said, “Yes. I do.”
He stared at her with heat and longing in his gaze. “Good, because I very much want you.” He lowered his gaze to her mouth and her lips began to tingle in response. “Your turn,” he said.
She watched his lips move. The husky bass of his voice sent warm, lingering heat through her body. It took her a few seconds to register what he’d said. “My…my turn?”
His gazed moved from her lips, down her throat to her breasts before slowly making the return up past her lips and into her eyes. “Your turn to ask a question,” he said.
Question. Huh? She struggled to bring her scrambled senses in order. “I…um…I need to tell you something first.”
“All right,” he said and put his hands in his pockets.
Her gaze instantly went below his waist where his erection tented the front of his pants. Embarrassed, she quickly looked up at his face. His half smile and knowing look sent heat rushing to her face. Determined to have her say, she kept her eyes on his face. “If you…we—” She stopped and collected herself. “If we are going to sleep together, then you should know that I’m not really good at sex. I like the kissing.” She hurried on, trying to say it all before she chickened out. “And the touching, but the act itself just doesn’t do it for me. But I’d like to have sex with you, if you want to.”
CHAPTER 10
Chris had a curious look on his face. Not quite frowning and not quite smiling…somewhere in the middle. Renee didn’t know what to make of it. At least he hadn’t laughed at her, or worse, looked disgusted by her admission.
“The act doesn’t do it for you.” He said it as though he was talking to himself.
She swallowed. She wasn’t sure if she should respond to him because he hadn’t asked her a question, so she didn’t. He watched her with that puzzled expression on his face for a few seconds. Waiting made her want to squirm. Why didn’t he answer her question? Had he changed his mind?
Then he nodded. “I definitely want to sleep with you, and just so you know, you’re safe with me. I always use protection.”
She let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Relieved that he hadn’t changed his mind. “I’m on the pill and I got a full physical when I came back from the funeral, so I’m healthy.” She felt a little awkward talking to him about protection, but at the same time she felt reassured by his consideration. She felt confident he would be just as considerate in her bed and she looked forward to kissing him again, feeling his hands on her body.
He walked to the sofa. Looking at her with such heated focus that made her even more aroused. “I want to sleep with you now. If that’s okay with you.”
She couldn’t control the shiver of desire that ran through her at his words. “It’s okay with me.”
He held out his hand, she accepted it and stood. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. Fiery sensation traveled up her arm, down her chest and between her legs. He threaded his fingers through hers. “Let’s go upstairs.”
All she could do was nod; he’d taken her breath away. They climbed the stairs and when they’d reached the top, he motioned for her to lead the way. Her knees felt shaky as she held his hand and walked down the short hallway to her bedroom. She’d never led a man to her bedroom and she found the experience exciting. When they reached her bedroom door, he stopped her.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he said, letting go of her hand and walking down the hall to the extra bedroom.
She watched in confusion as he left, but did what he asked
, and then she understood. A few seconds later, he returned empty-handed. He saw the look on her face.
“Condoms,” he said.
“Where?” she asked, looking at his empty hands.
He smiled and lifted her into his arms. “Pants pockets.” He kissed her softly. “Shirt pocket.” He carried her inside her bedroom.
She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and put her other hand on his chest, moving her hand slowly across the cotton dress shirt until she found the pocket. She reached inside and pulled out four sealed packets. “Are we going to need four?”
“No. I’ll go easy on you this time.” He set her on her feet beside her bed. The lamp on her nightstand cast a warm glow in the room.
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Why don’t I show you.” He unfastened the clip holding her ponytail and tossed it on her nightstand. “You have pretty hair, Renee.” He threaded his fingers through her locks, spreading it on her shoulders, and gently massaging her scalp. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
His hands felt wonderful, but she wanted something more. “Can I do something?”
He ran his hands over her hair then cupped her face. “You can do whatever you’d like, wherever you’d like.”
She stepped aside and put the condoms beside her lamp. “I want to take off your shirt,” she said in a voice she barely recognized, and took his wrist and unbuttoned one sleeve, then the other.
He stood there watching as she hurriedly unfastened the buttons on the front of his shirt then pushed it off his shoulders, down his arms, and let it drop to the floor. He dressed like a high-level executive. Looking at his chest made her mouth water. He had the look of a man who had gotten his muscles by doing long, hard, physical labor. His arms and shoulders were lean and tight. There was a light dusting of hair, but it was the dark line of hair that bisected his carved abs that made her want to follow its path down and below.