Chapter 6
SIX
The next morning, Thomas slept longer than Callie.
This was an unfortunate development.
He was coming to consciousness beside the hottest woman who’d ever existed. They were alone, in bed together, and nestled in what appeared to be a suite for honeymooners.
Worst of all, a sneaky squint through his eyelids established that she was awake and reading in bed, propped up against the quilted headboard. And from the look she was giving him right now, it appeared she’d caught his attempt at discreet observation.
He was screwed, and not in the way he’d have preferred.
“I know you’re not asleep anymore,” she said, closing the cover of her e-reader.
She’d opened one of the curtains partway while he’d been dozing, so even a squint revealed all the wonderful details.
Her sweet face was still rosy with sleep, her dark hair rumpled and gleaming with fiery highlights in the morning sun.
Her pale-pink nightgown flowed around her body in a way that hinted at the braless bounty beneath.
She was a ripe goddess who’d deigned to dally with mortals.
So he couldn’t help but smile at her, even as he kept his eyelids mostly shut. “I might be. Perhaps I’m an inveterate sleep-squinter and sleep-talker. You can’t be certain after only two nights.”
She raised those thick, dark brows. “Are you a sleep-squinter? Or a sleep-talker?”
“No.” His back cracked a bit as he stretched. “But I appreciate your asking.”
A giggle escaped her in a little puff of breath, and he laughed with her as he sat up.
And against his better judgment, he didn’t spring out of bed and race to the bathroom, locking himself safely away from temptation.
Instead, he too settled against the headboard, shifting until they were sitting thigh-to-thigh.
He stifled a yawn. “Have you been up long?”
When she twisted to face him, the neckline of her nightgown gaped a bit, exposing the top curve of her left breast. His yawn nearly turned into a groan of need.
“About an hour.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I collapsed into bed so early.”
He could, given her restless sleep the previous two nights. During their dinner at the island’s steakhouse, her eyelids had been drooping, and at one point she’d nearly dropped face-first into her citrus-curd pavlova.
As soon as they’d arrived back at their room, she’d stumbled to the bathroom, washed up, and essentially collapsed onto the mattress. By the time he’d emerged from his own bedtime routine, she’d been out for the night.
He considered that a blessing. She’d needed rest, and he’d needed to avoid spending time in bed with Callie while they were both conscious.
But he still wanted to find out whether she regularly had trouble sleeping. Whether, given the opportunity and the right circumstances, he could relieve that restlessness in time-honored fashion.
And during the course of yet another long, sleepless night of his own, he’d had the chance to formulate other questions too. Important ones.
Do you ever feel anxious at work?
If so, she hadn’t shown it. Then again, he’d watched her seem comfortable and confident during that lengthy tour of Parrot Cay and on the ferry to Renaissance Island, only to discover she’d been worrying the entire time about a panoply of issues.
He now knew she was able to hide her emotional distress well.
So well, he didn’t know whether to applaud or grieve that she’d clearly had so much practice.
What went wrong a couple of months after you started working at the CMRL? Were you stressed because of problems with Andre, or did something else happen?
Only upon Callie’s arrival had he truly felt attached to any of his colleagues. But even that tie had become thin and frayed, for whatever reason.
A reason he still didn’t understand. A reason he needed to understand.
But those questions would have to wait, because he and Callie had more urgent matters to address. Preferably before the luscious pressure of her body against his scuttled his resolve for good.
He cleared his throat. “As long as we have a few minutes alone, we should probably talk.”
“Oh, Lord.” Her groan vibrated through him. “Those words strike fear into the heart of any right-thinking person.”
If she didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t going to force her. No matter how much he ached to declare himself.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Never mind. We can talk later, if you’d prefer that.”
“It’s fine.” With a sigh, she tugged at his arm until he climbed back under the covers. “Let’s get this over with. Quickly, if at all possible.”
All right. The direct approach it was.
He took a fortifying breath and laid his heart bare.
“I like you, Callie. Very much. Everything I said to Gladys during that interview, I meant. You’re wondrous.
Lovely and smart and kind and capable.” He chanced a peek at her, just in time to see a rosy flush bloom on her cheeks.
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything.
Which sounds generic and facile, but I mean it.
I want you more than I wanted a completed dissertation and successful dissertation defense.
More than I wanted a tenure-track position at a research university.
More than I want my job at CMRL. So when I say I want you very much, I mean I could happily see nothing but your face, smell nothing but your perfume, touch nothing but your skin, and hear nothing but your voice for the rest of my life. ”
She’d been staring at him, her eyes wide. But at the last bit, she gave a tentative snort. “Just my face?”
“Maybe more than your face.” He grinned at her. “Considerably more.”
She scooted a bit closer, until the side of her breast pressed against his arm, and he had to close his eyes for a moment. “You missed a sense. What about taste?”
Ah. She’d reached the crux of the matter with that simple tease of a question.
“Your mouth haunts me,” he told her. “When you bite your lip, my hand slips on the microfilm machine controls, and I zip past weeks’ worth of colonial newspapers.
I drop my pens. I run into desks and bookshelves, because I’m thinking about how soft and glossy your mouth looks.
How you would taste. How much pressure you might prefer in a kiss.
Whether you’d squirm a little if I sucked on the tip of your tongue. ”
She squirmed a bit then, no sucking needed, so he was pretty sure he had his answer to that last question.
“Thomas…” Her hand landed on his knee over the covers, and her gaze was soft and searching. “I don’t understand. If you want me so much, why have you been rushing to bed each night and leaving before I wake up?”
He swept a hand, indicating the room. “Because of all this.”
Her dark brows beetled. “You don’t like our hotel?”
“The hotel is great. So were the others, in their own, extremely unique ways.” He took her hand and laced their fingers together. “Let me be clear. I jumped at the chance to spend an entire week with you. This trip has been the greatest windfall of my life, bar none.”
She’d stiffened by his side. “But?”
“I think…” How to say it in a way that didn’t sound patronizing? “I think it would be very easy for someone on this show to mistake forced proximity for real affection.”
She shrank back against the headboard, hurt pinching her face. “You’re worried your feelings for me might disappear once we fly home to Virginia?”
Oh, Lord. He was fucking this up via his clumsy attempts at subtlety.
He jettisoned caution and spoke plainly.
“Callie, I’ve wanted you for months, and that’s not going to change.
I’m not worried that my feelings for you will fade.
I’m worried you won’t want me once we get back home.
I’m worried about taking advantage of you while you’re overwhelmed by the intimacy of the whole situation, and I’m worried I might override any hesitancy you might have because I want you so damn much. ”
He sighed. “And that’s a lot of worrying for a man who generally doesn’t worry, so I wanted to discuss my concerns with you.”
Moments of silence ticked past.
Her plump lips had gone thin. “That’s patronizing as hell, Thomas.”
Shit. He’d been right the first time.
“Let me see if I have this straight. You want to kiss me.” In response to her questioning look, he nodded. “But you won’t, because you think I don’t know my own mind right now. That I might get lost in the process somehow and French you back in a sort of vacation-induced stupor. Is that correct?”
Good thing she wasn’t turning that beetle-browed glare to the shore visible outside their window. As he’d noted, the tides would have stilled. Immediately.
Her voice was a lash, and he winced at its sting. “How about if I kiss you instead? Is that acceptable? Or would it be further evidence of my maidenly confusion?”
“Okay, I know what I said sounded stupid and condescending. I get it.” He held tight to her hand when she started to slide it free from his. “But Callie, be honest. Can you really tell me you don’t have any doubts? That you aren’t worried about what might happen when we’re back in Marysburg?”
“I worry about everything.” She sounded beyond grouchy. “That’s not a fair question.”
He waited.
Eventually, she sighed. “But yes, maybe I’m a bit concerned about how I can reconcile this”—she squeezed his fingers—“with our work relationship.”
“Callie…” Might as well say what he meant.
All of it, while he had the chance. “As long as you still have doubts about me and our future together, I don’t want to become more intimate.
Because if you and I kissed or made love and you regretted it afterward, I don’t know how I’d be able to move past that. ”
It would destroy him. Leave him desolate, the ground salted beneath his feet.
Her voice had turned quiet. Tentative. “At work, you mean?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “Also in every other aspect of my existence.”