CHAPTER 5
Knowing Beau was just as uncomfortable in his wet boots and clothes as she was, Aurelie hurried into the bathroom, carrying the clothes the man had loaned her.
She lifted them to her nose and inhaled. They smelled like Beau. A woodsy scent she wouldn’t soon forget.
After turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature, Aurelie kicked off her boots and peeled the damp socks off her feet. Her toes were cold and pruned from being wet for so long. She couldn’t complain. Her toes might be wrinkled, but she was alive. She had been struggling to find her footing and could have drowned had Beau not jumped into the alligator-infested bayou to pull her out.
Her heart swelled in her chest. What he’d done was pretty damn heroic. She smiled. If she called him a hero to his face, he would probably disagree and say he’d done what any man would have done.
Aurelie wasn’t that sure. Many of the men she knew wouldn’t jump into a dark swamp full of alligators to save their mothers, much less a stranger.
She stripped out of the jacket, shirt and trousers she’d worn as Amelia Earhart and shucked her bra and panties. Leaving the costume on the tile floor, she carried the undergarments into the shower with her. The sooner she hand-washed them, the sooner they’d dry so she could wear them the next day.
Her nipples tingled under the shower’s pelting spray. She always left the house in appropriate undergarments. Her mother had drilled it into her to make a habit of wearing a good bra and panties in case she was in an accident, and the paramedics had to cut off her clothes.
Aurelie always thought that would be terribly embarrassing. But if it meant the difference between life and death, keeping or losing a limb, she prayed they’d cut off the clothes whether her bra and panties were pretty or not.
If her bra and panties didn’t dry by morning, could she go commando?
The idea of going without undergarments was new...and surprisingly titillating.
She gripped the bar of soap, worked up a lather in her hands and ran them over her skin, starting with her face, then working her way down her neck, over her shoulders and across her breasts. As her fingers skimmed her nipples, her breath caught in her throat. An image of Beau’s big hands grazing the sensitive tips made her core heat, molten hot.
Sliding her soapy hand lower, she cupped her sex and dipped a finger into her channel.
Oh, yeah. Not only was she hot in the middle of the day, but she was also dreaming lusty dreams about a man who had no intention of charging in to satisfy her sudden urge.
She could call out to him and offer to let him shower at the same time as she did, thus saving water and accomplishing the task twice as fast.
Aurelie was shocked by herself even considering showering with the stranger. She’d never showered with a man.
While no virgin, she hadn’t done much sexual exploration. The men she’d slept with had been in a hurry to get to their orgasms. Not one had been too concerned about satisfying her needs. The only real orgasms she’d had were the ones she’d elicited during her own forays into self-satisfaction. That’s right...masturbation. Sometimes, with BOB, her battery-operated boyfriend.
She wondered if Beau was the kind of guy who would go straight for his enjoyment or if he would put in the necessary effort to please her. Would he get impatient? Would she have to fake an orgasm, or would Beau get her there?
What was she thinking? It wasn’t like they were going to go there. He’d saved her life and felt responsible for her. That didn’t mean he was responsible for her orgasms.
Aurelie set the soap in the soap dish, squirted shampoo into her hand and washed the bayou water out of her hair. She rinsed all the soap from her hair and body, turned off the water and grabbed a towel.
After drying off, she pulled on the boxer briefs, liking the way they hugged her hips. Knowing Beau had worn them made her sex tingle and heat swirl low in her belly.
She had to get over her improper thoughts, or she’d have difficulty looking him square in the eye. He might read her mind and be appalled at the sexual content that included him.
When she pulled the T-shirt over her head and let it fall over her naked breasts, a moan escaped her lips before she could stop it.
“Are you all right in there?” Beau called out.
“I’m fine,” she answered, her voice high-pitched, strained by her attempt to sound normal when she was having anything but normal feelings for the man on the other side of the door.
“Get a grip,” she muttered softly.
“What did you say?” Beau asked, his voice barely muffled by the wood-paneled door.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just talking to myself.”
Aurelie stepped into Beau’s gym shorts, pulled them up over the boxer briefs, wrapped her hair in a towel and pulled the door open. “It’s all yours.”
Beau stood in the middle of the room, his chest and feet bare, holding a pair of shorts, a comb and a brush.
He handed her the comb and brush. “If you have trouble getting the tangles out, I can help after I get my shower.” His lips twisted. “My younger sisters swear I have a magic touch with tangles.”
Aurelie took the comb and brush, grimacing. Without conditioner, the tangles would be almost unbearable. “I might take you up on that,” she said.
“Good.” Beau stepped around her, his naked shoulder brushing against her arm. “I won’t be long.”
That brief, skin-to-skin contact shot a spark of electricity up her arm and throughout her body, leaving Aurelie breathless.
Thankfully, he entered the bathroom and closed the door before she gasped.
“Okay,” she whispered, very aware of the fact the bathroom door did little to muffle noise. “He’s just a man. A stranger. One you might not see again after tomorrow. Get through the night and move on.”
The self-pep talk did little to cool the heat burning through her. There was no way she could let him work the tangles out of her hair. He’d be close enough to touch. She wasn’t sure she could control her raging hormones.
Pulling the towel off her head, she dug the brush into her damp hair, yanking at the tangles, hoping the pain would put the kibosh on the lust blossoming inside before the man emerged from the bathroom.
She could hear when he turned on the water, the sound of the shower curtain rings sliding across the metal bar and a deep, soft humming sound.
Curious, she pressed her ear to the door. Her head jerked back as she recognized the tune.
Beau was humming the Elvis song they’d danced to at the chateau. The dance he’d ended with that kiss.
“Can’t help Falling in Love,” echoed in Aurelie’s head as she spun away and tugged again at the tangles refusing to release. She had to get through them before he came out. If she didn’t, and he insisted on working through them, she couldn’t be responsible for her reactions.
Her hand yanked at the brush. It caught in a tangle and bounced back against her head. When she tried to pull it free, she couldn’t. Her hair had wrapped all around the brush.
“Damn,” she cursed and tried to work the strands of hair free, one at a time, only making it worse. “Double damn.”
“Hey,” Beau called out. “Just stop there.”
She spun to face him.
He crossed the room, wearing just the gym shorts, nothing else. Droplets of water glistened on his skin, some trapped in the smattering of curls across his chest.
Aurelie’s mouth went dry. Holy hell. The less the man wore, the more handsome he got. She’d bet he’d look like amazing completely naked.
She ran her tongue across her dry lips as he reached her, her gaze rising to his.
He was frowning. “Don’t,” he said, his voice sounding a little choked.
“Don’t what?” she whispered, barely able to push air past her vocal cords with him standing close enough she could smell that woodsy scent. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and her tongue swept across her lips again.
“Do that,” he said.
“Do what?” she said, unable to look away from his mouth, wondering if a second kiss would be equally as amazing as that first on the dance floor. If she moved half of a step closer, she could find out for herself. She licked her lips again.
“Licking your lips.” Beau gripped her arms, sending shocks of electricity through all over again.
Her pulse slammed through her veins, pounding so hard against her eardrums she could barely hear herself think. She frowned and looked up into his eyes, not exactly sure what he was talking about.
“You’re licking your lips, and it’s making me crazy,” he said softly.
“Sorry.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “Does it bother you?”
He chuckled. “More than you know.” With his hands still on her arms, he turned her around. “Let me take care of the brush.” He guided her to a desk, pulled out a chair and urged her to sit.
She dropped onto the seat, glad to take the weight off her wobbling legs.
Beau’s hands went to her hair and the brush knotted in the long tresses.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said. “One minute, I was brushing, and the next minute, the brush was wadded up in the tangles. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
“It’s okay,” he said, his tone as soothing as his hands.
Moments later, he had the brush free and began working through the knots slowly and patiently. He took his time, careful not to yank too hard and hurt her.
Aurelie closed her eyes and let him wield his magic. She could tell when he’d loosened the last knot and fully expected him to stop.
He smoothed the brush through her hair, over and over. The soothing repetition lulled Aurelie into a trance. She must have fallen asleep and started dreaming. In that dream, Beau alternated between brushing and kissing her hair.
In her dream, she leaned her head back against his bare belly. His kiss skimmed her lips. She wanted to reach up and pull him closer. Deepen the kiss. Take it to the next level.
The brushing stopped, and the dream kisses stopped.
“All done,” he said, his voice deep and resonant.
Aurelie blinked her eyes open, wanting to tell him to kiss her again. But that had been in her dream, right?
Beau reached around her and laid the brush on the desk. “I’ll leave it here in case you need it again.” He spun away from her, grabbed a pillow from the bed and held it in front of him as he hurried for the door. “I’ll be outside the door if you need me. All you have to do is yell.”
Then he dove through the door and pulled it closed behind him.
The room cooled by several degrees without his presence.
Or did her body cool?
Aurelie drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Had she fallen asleep? She touched her fingers to her lips.
They still tingled from the dream, much like they had after he’d kissed her at the chateaux.
She stared at the door, tempted to open it and ask him if his kisses had been a dream or if they’d been real.
Aurelie rose from the desk chair and was halfway across the room before she stopped. If the kisses had been a dream, the question would reveal to him what she’d been dreaming about. He’d think her pathetic. Would he kiss her again out of pity?
If the kisses had been real...
That could ignite something she wasn’t sure she was prepared to commit to.
Something…? Like what?
A one-night stand?
The few times Aurelie had engaged in sex, she’d been in a committed relationship. Granted, she’d ended up breaking up with the men when they hadn’t satisfied her physical or emotional needs. She’d wondered if she was destined to be disappointed by sex. Maybe she was...what was it one of her boyfriends had called her...?
Frigid.
Aurelie crossed her arms over her breasts as she stood staring at the door. She was hot, inside and out. Her pulse raced, pushing molten blood through her veins.
Most definitely not frigid. Not now, anyway.
She took another step toward the door. If she felt this strongly toward her Robin Hood before they had sex, how would she feel during?
Her feet carried her a couple more steps, propelling her toward the man who’d piqued her sexual curiosity.
As if of its own accord, her hand wrapped around the knob.
The cautious, logical voice in her head warned her to think about it. But she could barely hear that voice, like it was coming to her from the deep, dark depths of a cave. The irrational, impulsive woman she’d suppressed for most of her life as a politician’s daughter activated the muscles in her hand and twisted the knob, pulling it open before logic could engage.
Beau had been sitting across the hall with his back to the wall, the pillow lying across his lap. As soon as the door opened, he was on his feet in a split second. “What’s wrong?”
Impulsive Aurelie conveniently lost her voice.
Logical Aurelie scrambled with a reason for her to open the door. “You.”
He frowned. “Me?”
Aurelie dragged her gaze from his and down to the pillow he held in front of him. “You can’t sleep in the hallway. It’s not fair.” She looked around for inspiration. “You should sleep in your own bed. I can curl up in the chair by the window.”
He was shaking his head before she finished her sentence. “No way. I’m fine out here. Remember, I was in the Army. Anything is better than a foxhole.”
“I won’t sleep, knowing you’re lying on the floor outside the door. What if someone sneaks up on you trying to get to me? If you’re asleep, you might not hear him.” She shook her head again.
“Trust me,” he said. “I’ll hear him.”
“But I won’t sleep at all, feeling guilty about taking your bed.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “It’s just one night. Go to bed, Aurelie.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her lips pressing into a hard line. “Either sleep in your own bed, or I’ll walk out this door and take care of myself. I’m not your responsibility. You can’t make me stay.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. Finally, he sighed. “How about a compromise?”
“As long as it involves you sleeping in your own room,” she lifted her chin, “I’m listening.”
“I’ll sleep in my room,” he said, “on the floor. That way no one will sneak up on me. They’d have to break down the door to get to me or you. That would give me time to react.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’ll sleep in your bed.”
“On the floor, or I’ll stay out here.” His lips twitched. “Take it or leave it.”
“For God’s sake, take it!” a voice called out from behind Romeo’s door. “Some of us want to sleep.”
Aurelie’s cheeks heated. She gripped Beau’s arm and dragged him through the door.
He turned and threw the deadbolt.
“If you’re insistent about sleeping on the floor, at least take this...” Aurelie hurried toward the bed, pulled the thick comforter off, folded it in half and laid it on the floor at the foot of the bed. The room was small. The man was big. He’d take up most of the floor space. But it was that or the bed. With her.
Her heart stuttered and then raced as she slipped between the sheets and pulled the top one up to her chin.
Beau’s lips twisted. “If you’re that scared of me, it would be better if I stayed out in the hall.”
“I’m not scared of you,” she said. She wasn’t. She was afraid of her reaction to him, which had her hiding behind the sheet. She was afraid she’d do something dumb like ask him to make love to her.
Beau held up his hand like he was swearing in at a court case. “I promise, you’re safe with me. I won’t hurt you. I won’t touch you.” He dropped to the pallet on the floor, flung the pillow behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. Then he added, “Unless you want me to.”
Aurelie stiffened. Now, why did he have to go and add that little phrase to his promise?
She flopped back on her pillow and stared up at the ceiling like Beau.
Unless you want me to.
What did he mean by that? Did he want to touch her? Was that his way of letting her know he was interested?
She started to sit up and ask him what he meant but forced herself to lay still.
No. It wasn’t an invitation.
He’d said it in jest. He wasn’t serious. And she wasn’t curious enough to test his theory.
Or was she?
She rolled onto her side, the side facing Beau, and stared down at him.
Beau stared up at the ceiling, his hands laced behind his neck. “What?” he asked, his gaze shifting to hers.
Put on the spot, she lost her nerve and searched for another reason to be on her side facing him. “Just needed to turn off the light.” She reached for the black knob up under the lampshade. It was further away than she could manage lying down. Leaning up on her elbow, she strained to reach the little knob.
Just...about...there...
Her elbow slipped over the edge of the mattress. With all her weight poised over that elbow, she went over the edge with it and crashed down on top of Beau.
He grunted as she landed on his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. His arms came around her.
“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” Planting her hands on his chest, she pushed up. Her knees dropped to the floor on either side of him, and she sat up, straddling his hips, becoming immediately aware of the hard ridge beneath his shorts.
His hands closed around her arms, steadying her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, her face burning. “I should be asking you that question. I landed on you while trying to reach the light switch...” Aurelie looked up at the damned switch. Meanwhile, the hard ridge beneath her had all her attention. “Are you all right?” Because you feel mighty fine to me.
Holy hell, she’d almost spoken that last thought out loud.
“Actually,” he said. “I’m not fine.”
She frowned, her glance shooting to his eyes. “No?”
“No,” he said, his lips forming a thin line. He shifted beneath her, his cock pressing against her sex. “I should sleep out in the hall.” With his hands still on her arms, he tried to lift her off him.
She resisted. “Why? Because of this?” She wiggled her bottom, letting him know she knew he was aroused.
His jaw tightened to the point it twitched. He breathed in and out several times before saying, “Yes.”
She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Then why don’t you do something about it?”
“I promised not to touch you,” he said.
“Didn’t you say Unless you want me to?” She lifted her chin. Then she lowered her voice to whisper, “What if I want you to?”