Chapter Two #3
“You know when you get a really great massage and you never want to move again?” She rolled onto her stomach and hugged the pillow that she pulled under her head and chest. Her eyelids drooped heavily as she blinked at him.
The corners of her lips tilted in libidinous pleasure.
“That’s how I feel right now,” she purred.
“I don’t get those kinds of massages, but no judgment.”
“As if!” Her teeth flashed and she slid across the sheet to drape herself over his chest, making him delightfully aware of the way her breasts brushed his skin before settling warm and plump against him. “I thought you promised me dinner?”
“Are you hungry? Why on earth would that be?” Despite his decision to distance himself, he absently gathered her more fully atop him. “I can order something. Or would you rather dress and go out?” Leaving this room would be prudent.
“This is nice.” She shifted in a full body caress, legs interlacing with his own in a way that was pure seduction.
“It is.” He ran his hands down her back and over the cool cheeks of her ass, thinking the cashmere had been lovely, but he preferred her naked skin. Perhaps he would indulge himself, and her, a little longer.
But only a little.
She nuzzled his jaw and her hair fell across his mouth.
He brushed it back behind her ear.
“Why do you color it?” Not that he was complaining. On the contrary, he was mildly turned on by the fact he knew her natural color and few others did.
“No one takes me seriously as a blonde.” She slid off him and sat up, letting her dark hair fall forward to curtain her profile. “Do you mind if I pop down to my room? I need to take out my contacts.” She blinked at him.
He kept getting the sense she was hiding something. It provoked his frustration that he wouldn’t get the chance to learn all her secrets, but such was his life right now.
He kept a light tone as he said, “If you come back and your eyes aren’t blue, I really will believe you work for the government.”
“But which one?” she challenged with a cheeky grin.
He slid his fingers along her hip and thigh, unable to keep from enjoying the supple softness of her. She was a warm, glowing light that mesmerized him the way a candle flame drew a moth.
“My eyes are blue. I promise.” Her expression altered as she noticed the scar on the side of his chest. She gently traced it. “Broken rib? That was a bad one.”
“It was,” he agreed impassively, not telling her the hospital stay had been a relief from worse.
Her mouth grew pensive and her touch on that sensitive scar began to burn.
He caught her hand and carried it to his lips so he could kiss her palm.
She let him, but looked deeply into his eyes. “You don’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t.” He tried to soften his words with a caress of her cheek, but he couldn’t escape the fact he was setting hard, necessary boundaries. “If you’re looking for someone you can truly share secrets with, I am not that man.”
She blinked in a way that suggested his words had struck like a blow. She bit the corner of her mouth and looked toward the window as she sat up and withdrew her hand.
He fought the urge to drag her down into his arms again. To press her beneath him and make her his all over again. He’d never been possessive. He hadn’t been allowed to be. Everything was Fernando’s with very few crumbs left over for the spare.
Joaquin had taught himself not to want anything to be his.
That had helped enormously when it came to gambling in tech manufacturing.
He was willing to take risks that others weren’t, simply because he didn’t attach himself to material wealth or personal recognition.
Losing a contract or a sum of money annoyed him, but he didn’t let it affect him too deeply.
The global company his father was now dangling like a carrot, pretending he had intentions of allowing Joaquin to run it?
It meant absolutely nothing to him. He didn’t want it.
At all. Only his loyalty to his brother compelled him to take an interest in keeping it afloat.
Siobhan, though. He discovered he wanted Siobhan. It was visceral, this urge to grasp onto her and keep her by his side.
Which was disturbing enough to prevent him from giving in to that desire. Everything he possessed needed to be something he was willing to lose. It was the only way to stay sane. Fear of losing something he really wanted was the reason he coveted nothing.
He tucked his arm beneath his head to keep from reaching for her, but his conscience pinched as he acknowledged she might not be as sophisticated as he’d judged her to be.
“I’ve hurt your feelings.”
“No.” He suspected she was saving face, adding with forced lightness, “Apparently, you’re right about fate and free will. We’re not meant to be. This was lovely, though. Thank you.” Her hair spilled across his chest and cheek as she tapped his mouth with hers then flitted away just as quickly.
Was. He unwound his arm from behind his head, but she was already sliding off the bed. “You’re not coming back?”
“You still want me to?” she asked over her shoulder, allowing him to glimpse a vulnerability in her gaze that kicked at his conscience again.
Let her go, he told himself, but his mouth said, “If you want to.”
Her smile dawned in a way that expanded light inside him, promising a stay of execution from the mess that awaited in Madrid.
As she dressed, he rose to pull on his own trousers, then followed her into the lounge where she picked up her shoes, but didn’t put them on.
“My walk of shame is only down the hall.”
“Is that how you feel?” he asked with dismay. “Ashamed?”
“No. I’m actually feeling very smug.” She slid him a heavy-lashed look that tightened his skin.
“Good. I’ll order dinner and call someone to clean up the glass. Hurry back.”
They kissed lightly. Too lightly. If he’d known it would be their last kiss, he would have made it count.