Chapter 12
Preparations for the trip to Vegas made the day fly by, until they could finally draw breath and order that pizza.
Before witnessing Rhys operating in his element, Taylor never would have believed she could find cool efficiency sexy, but now that he had something specific to work on, rather than a vague threat that might or might not materialize, she’d found a renewed respect for his ability.
“I enjoyed that.” Taylor licked a smear of tomato from her finger, the last sign of her last slice of pizza. The two boxes on the low table in front of them were empty, apart from a handful of abandoned crusts.
“The film or the pizza?”
“Both.”
Taylor shifted her position slightly. At some point during the movie, she’d ended up nestled against Rhys, with his arm draped around her. He seemed to be fairly cool about it. She wasn’t complaining, either.
“Same here,” Rhys agreed. “Are you still okay about tomorrow?”
A simple enough question, and the answer was anything but. “Part of me is dreading it, but the other part wants it to be over.”
“Understandable. Tell me what you’re dreading about it. Putting it into words might help.”
Taylor’s stomach churned. “I’m scared I’m going to find a man I don’t know.
I believed in him. I believed whatever he was doing, it was for good reasons.
I ignored my instincts when he ignored my questions.
I pretended to myself there was nothing wrong.
That he just needed more time, and I chose to stop counting the time he’d already had. ”
“Why don’t you tell me all of it, Tay? Whatever it is, let me share the load. I have broad shoulders, remember?”
The comment about his shoulders lifted her mood a little.
They were indeed impressive, and maybe she could lean on them, for a short while at least. “I want the truth about it all. Without truth, what do we have? At the same time, though, I have this dread that won’t go away, that I’m going to find out something that’s going to blow my whole world apart, and it’ll never be the same again. ”
“Truth can be painful,” Rhys agreed. “In the end, though, you’re right—it’s all there is. Illusion may be more comfortable, but it has a way of betraying you. Truth lasts.”
At one time, it would have pained her to admit Rhys was right, but not anymore. “I guess I just needed you to help me accept what I already knew.” Taylor sighed. “I’ll be glad once we’re on our way.”
“We’ll be leaving soon enough. And since we need to be up early in the morning, I think it might be a good idea to clean up and go to bed. What do you think?”
Taylor was no fool—he wasn’t really soliciting her opinion at all. Not that she minded. “Sounds good to me.”
She swung her feet off the couch and stood. As she reached for the pizza boxes, her hand collided with his. On impulse, she wrapped her fingers around his and gave them a squeeze. His gaze meshed with hers, and she couldn’t help but smile.
Rhys responded with a smile of his own, the smile that gave her butterflies. “Why don’t you put those in the trash and I’ll wash the glassware?” he said. “That way, you can take the bathroom first.”
As he’d managed to let her do every day. “Thanks.”
Having thrown the boxes in the trash, she dived into the bathroom for the fastest shower of her life.
As she made her way back to her bedroom, another quandary popped into her mind—the matter of a goodnight kiss.
As she perched on the end of the bed, listening for any signs of movement, she decided to play it by ear.
A soft click told her he was in the bathroom.
She tried not to think of him standing in front of the mirror, stripped to the waist, while he prepared for bed.
A few minutes later, she heard the door again, and now her imagination pictured him padding silently from there to his bedroom.
Almost precisely on cue, the sound of another door closing came from that direction.
This was it. As a grown woman, with her own mind and her own agency, she could go after what she wanted without waiting for permission. And she wanted Rhys.
Taylor made a deal with herself—if there was a light showing under his bedroom door, she’d say goodnight. If not, then she’d go back to bed, stuff her head under the pillow, and count sheep until dawn if she had to.
And… there was a light.
Taylor knocked on the door, and as soon as Rhys gave her permission to enter, her hand was on the handle.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him sitting up in bed, one knee raised beneath sheet that covered him up to his hips. Seeing him in swim trunks by the pool was one thing, but in this setting, seeing that naked muscular chest took it up to a whole different level of intimate.
Then it hit her. This wasn’t just lust, although there was plenty of that pulsing through her veins. This was falling in love.
Before her stalled brain could provide any words, Rhys broke the silence but not the mood.
“Can’t sleep?”
She shook her head.
His gaze locked with hers, and in a flash of mutual understanding, explanation became unnecessary. He flipped back the sheet. “You’d better come to bed, then. I might be able to help.”
He not only knew why she was there, he was okay with it, too. As watershed moments went, it was pretty amazing, if a little surreal. Taylor needed no further invitation. As she drew the sheet over her bare legs, she looked him in the eyes and said, “That’s what I was hoping.”
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He wanted to make love to her more than he wanted to carry on breathing.
Keeping his hands off of her the last couple of days had been a personal ordeal on a par with the most demanding trials in the SAS training manual.
And then she’d appeared at the threshold of his bedroom, looking entirely delectable in what some might call a very definitely unsexy lilac cotton, knee-length nightgown and blowing his self-control to kingdom come.
He’d only just managed to raise a knee in time to conceal a surging hard-on his briefs could barely contain.
There was no hiding it now that she was right beside him—she’d knocked him sideways and made him face the root cause of his animosity toward her. Not a superficial “fuck and forget” attraction, but one that went deep, the kind that could turn his world upside down.
Rhys tossed the book he’d been about to read onto the nightstand. “If you’d given me some notice, I’d have shaved.”
She dragged a fingernail along the line of his jaw. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Your thighs might not agree, by the time I’ve finished with you.”
It was a risky comment, one that signaled his intentions quite clearly, but the message he was getting from her smile was one of approval.
“Kiss me.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. He shifted into a better position to comply with the imperative, elbowing his pillow into submission on the way. She was looking at him with an honest, naked need that mirrored what he felt for her.
Pure, primitive desire rode him hard. He fought to keep it in check, so he wouldn’t scare her away. Keeping it slow and gentle, he raised a hand to stroke her cheek with his fingertip. Letting his finger wander down to her jawline, he guided her head to exactly the right angle.
Her lips tasted so good. Fire raged in his blood to claim her, yet at the same time, he wanted to take his time. He wanted to give her more pleasure than she’d ever known. He wanted her to feel cherished.
More than that—he wanted her to feel loved.
The true depth of his feelings for her wrapped itself slowly around him. It wove its magic, steering him through the transition from serial seducer to one-woman man. Her man.
Then the sledgehammer hit home—he wanted to be her first choice for the rest of their lives.
The impact of it drove him to kiss her again, this time with the full, turbulent force of the emotion raging within. Her breathy gasp made him start to draw back, but her hand cupping the back of his head held him in place.
“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” she whispered.
“You’re not getting away from me at all,” he whispered back. “Not ever.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Taylor suddenly wriggled away from him, her intent instantly becoming clear.
“Hey, that’s my job,” Rhys complained as he stilled the hands that would have removed her nightgown.
“Then hurry up and do it.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. He quickly divested her of her nightgown, consigning it to the floor, and was rewarded with his first sight of a body that was, in his not-very-humble opinion, sheer perfection.
Her swimwear had never left much to the imagination—or so he’d thought. Now that he could see everything, he had a new appreciation for her beauty. For a long, appreciative moment, he allowed his gaze to linger, to take in every sublime inch, every stunning curve of her golden-hued body.
“A man should never hurry with a woman like you,” Rhys murmured. “He should take the greatest care with her, so she forgets every man she knew before him.”
He cupped her breast, lowered his head, and sucked hard on her nipple, barely aware of the fingers tangled in his hair until she tugged hard, pulling him away from her.
“Too much,” she complained with a soft, aching moan.
“Not enough,” he challenged, freeing his head from her grasp so he could reapply himself to the task at hand with even greater diligence. If she thought what little he’d done was too much, then heaven help her by the time he was done with her.
Her skin was soft and smooth, and an invitation he couldn’t ignore. While his mouth was busy kissing her, his hand was free to explore, and explore it did—down her side to her waist, then over the curve of her hip. Her hum of pleasure beneath his lips vibrated through his soul.
Delicate fingers danced over his waist and finally burrowed beneath his briefs. Electricity zinged through his nervous system.
“I think it’s time these came off,” she murmured against his lips.