Chapter 2 #4
Looking into his lazy blue gaze, as he continued to stare back at her, she recognized the blaze of passion that lay just beneath the surface. He spoke first.
“A guy could lose control with a woman like you.” His voice was gravelly.
“You mean it’s not always this intense?” she asked.
“Hell no. And you?”
“Never,” she said. She couldn’t believe she admitted this much. His slow smile lifted his mouth to a half-grin and his eyes glittered. She grinned back without guile. She felt giddy with excitement over their discovery of each other.
“In that case, we’ll have to make the most of our evening together.” He lowered himself slightly and leaned on his elbow to one side, still watching her, still inside her. She turned her head slightly. She felt him growing inside her.
“You read minds too.” She trailed her fingertips down the length of his side to his buttocks where she began a lazy massage, pulling him into her more deeply.
The phone rang.
“Ignore it,” Brian said. He took her earlobe between his lips as he slowly pulsed back and forth inside her. It rang again.
“Who is it?” Roxanne asked. He must know who would be calling at this hour. The pleasing sensations he was creating tingled through her, but the ring of the phone didn’t stop. It rang again. No answering machine came on to stop it.
Brian stopped all motion and lifted his head. She could swear he was about to say something, then instead he groaned an oath and rolled off her and off the couch in one motion. He walked to the phone and picked it up.
Roxanne watched him, standing there half naked. She listened to him and didn’t want to be told who it was. What if it was another woman?
All the pleasure drained out of her and she straightened herself up, retrieved her panties from the floor and put them back on.
Brian continued his conversation in a low voice and Roxanne wondered what to do, as she sat back on the couch and took a sip of her forgotten brandy.
More importantly, she wondered how she felt.
Not great.
When he hung up the phone and walked back to her he didn’t seem at all self-conscious that he was dressed only in his shirt and socks. He gave her a calculated look, and then retrieved his own pants to put them back on.
He sat on the other end of the couch, leaned back and reached his arm along the back to touch Roxanne’s hair.
“So why did you get dressed?” He frowned.
“Why did you?”
The smirk flashed onto his face before he broke into a full-fledged laugh.
“That was a woman?” She needed an answer.
“Yes.”
She stood. She wouldn’t wait to be asked to leave.
“No need to go. It was my ex-wife.”
She sat back down. If the call was a non-issue for him, then she wouldn’t make an issue of it. She’d been enjoying herself too much and she wanted to get that feeling back again. She was glad that he wasn’t going to ask her to leave.
He leaned toward her, and for a moment she thought he intended to pick up where they left off, but instead he only touched the laugh line on her face.
“You laugh a lot don’t you?”
“So do you.”
“Not as much as I’d like to, but I try.” He retrieved his hand and took a cigarette from a pack in the end table drawer and then he went to the bar where he lit it and took a long puff.
Roxanne laughed at him. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. This smoking habit of yours is too ironic,” she said.
With that, he shook his head, raised his eyebrows and planted the butt in the ashtray to put it out.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what the call was about?” He came around and stood in front of the bar, leaning back with his arms folded.
“No.”
He raised his brow and shook his head.
“She called to give me the message that my daughter Lindy won’t be coming over tomorrow as planned. And that she’ll be gone until Monday.” He stood there, arms still folded, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of the situation.
But she knew. He may be disappointed that he wouldn’t be seeing his daughter, she couldn’t quite tell, but she was most definitely not. She rose from the couch and sauntered over to him at the bar, bringing her glass. She poured herself more brandy.
“That’s good to hear because three really is a crowd.” She stood before him and took a swallow of her brandy.
As was characteristic of him, she was beginning to realize, he laughed with great amusement and flashing eyes. And when she put her brandy down on the bar, he reached forward and gathered her into his arms to lean back against him.
“How would you like a tour of the bed…I mean the house.” Brian laughed at himself.
“You have a one-track mind.”
“Suddenly I do.”
“Must be catching,” Roxanne said as she snuggled herself against him even closer to feel again his growing desire.
Brian cleared his throat but didn’t move. “So tell me about this money problem of yours,” he said.
Roxanne raised her brow in surprise and pushed herself away from him.
She picked up her drink and headed back to the couch.
She hoped he wasn’t having second thoughts about her, but then after a quick glance over her shoulder she reassured herself that the interest was still there.
Maybe instead, he didn’t want her to have second thoughts about spending a night with a sex fiend.
She smiled at the thought. Then, after taking a deep breath, she answered his question.
“Nothing to tell. I’m broke. But I’ll get by.
I have a lot of assets to sell.” She winked and he, of course, laughed.
She couldn’t make herself ask him for the interview just yet.
She didn’t want to spoil the evening. She didn’t want him to think it was about money or her job.
Because it had nothing to do with either.
Shaking her head, she also realized as soon as she asked him the favor she would look bad. Not now.
“So tell me about this smoking problem of yours.”
“Nothing to tell. I’ll get over it—eventually. What about your late husband? Why’d you marry him?” Brian came over and joined her on the couch. He wasn’t giving her any room to breathe.
“Not that again. What about your ex-wife, why’d you marry her?”
“Because she was pregnant.” He stopped.
She waited for him to continue. He didn’t. He took a swig of his brandy.
“Tell me about it,” she prodded.
“We got married, she had the baby, and six months later she was history.” He said it matter-of-factly.
“She walked on you.” Roxanne was not surprised.
“Yeah. Said something about not being able to stand it anymore. But I told her up front I wasn’t thrilled with her, or marriage. Warned her not to expect much from me. I guess she was sure she could change all that. But she didn’t.”
“And now?”
“Now she’s married to some baseball player and they’re all playing house somewhere, happy as clams.”
“She likes sports, eh?”
“Yeah. She was a spoiled, bored socialite who thought she’d get her kicks by taming the big bad basketball player from the wrong side of the tracks.” Brian took another long sip of his drink.
“But you showed her, didn’t you?”
He finally let a small half grin show at her taunt.
“You didn’t tell me yet why you married your late husband?” He gave her a mock-daring look. She figured—what the hell? Since they seemed to be sharing secrets.
“Not because I was in love with him. He was a wonderful person and he adored me. He was very attentive and indulgent, kind of overwhelmed me with it. I confess I’m a sucker for that kind of attention. He also had lots of money and a prestigious family. I guess I was impressed with it all.”
“So you married him for his money?” Brian’s face was neutral.
She nodded. “It looks that way.” She stood up, averting her eyes. She did not want to have to explain the unexplainable to him. But the sound of his amused laughter startled her and she turned back to him.
“Then I don’t get it—why the money problems?” Brian asked.
Roxanne had no idea what to make of his response, but she was relieved as much as she was surprised. “You don’t pay attention to the news much do you?”
“Only sports,” he admitted.
“I suppose I should be thankful for that. Though it seems you’re the only one.
I’ve become a branded woman these days. I’ve been labeled a gold digger, and stories invariably include veiled hints about Donald’s suspicious and untimely death.
Every time I think the story is dead they turn around and find something else to talk about.
It’s almost as if someone’s feeding them stories. ” She sat back down.
“What about the money?”
“Oh that. I gave it all back.” She looked at him with a shrug. “I denied the will. They would have contested it anyway.” She took another sip of her brandy, remembering again what she needed from this man. An uneasy feeling swept over her.
“Then you didn’t marry him for his money after all?”
“It looks that way.”
He prompted her with an arch of one brow and a not quite CIA interrogation-level stare.
She mentally squirmed and then squared her shoulders. He’d asked for it. “Bonnie chalks it up to fatherly neglect, but I…”
“Who’s Bonnie?”
“My caretaker,” she responded automatically to his interruption.
“You get advice from your gardener?” He was enjoying this.
“No, she takes care of me,” she told him without the silent “stupid ass” tacked on for attitude. “Since my mother died.”
That took the amused look off his face.
“When you were a child.” He sat back and swirled the liquid in his glass. “Was it a lot of money?” He changed to her other least favorite topic.
“Not that again. This soul-baring stuff isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.”
“I like seeing you squirm.”