But Not for Me (Silhouette Special Edition) Page 9

  In her own defense, she hadn’t stayed home and pined for a dream she couldn’t have. She had dated occasionally. However, the demands of her job gave her the excuse not to become involved in an ongoing relationship. She knew that no man could take Brad’s place in her heart. Most men stopped calling after she broke a date or two due to unexpected complications at work.

  The thought of Brad brought her back to the present. Now she had complicated her life by giving Brad a glimpse of her feelings for him.

  I know, Mom, I know. I’ve been a fool. But what do I do now? Resign and run for the hills? Pretend that nothing happened? Laugh it off as though the whole thing were a joke?

  She heard footsteps and quickly looked around. Carl strode to the Jeep. She breathed a quick sigh of relief that it wasn’t Brad. Not yet. Please. She needed more time.

  He paused by the side of the Jeep. “You okay?” Carl asked, gazing at her intently.

  She knew she glowed with embarrassment. “Sure. Why?”

  “I saw you had your eyes closed earlier and thought maybe the heat had gotten to you.”

  She almost laughed because the heat had definitely gotten to her. Just not the heat he was referring to.

  “I’m fine. Really,” she said in her most reassuring voice.

  Carl leaned against the Jeep. “Well, I think our silver-tongued boss has managed to deal with our client and her demands…at least for the time being.”

  “You must be relieved,” she replied. In her panic she’d forgotten about the Crosslands. So much for staying objective.

  “That was quite a performance you two pulled off in there. It certainly did the trick, though. Mrs. Crossland was all business after you left.”

  Rachel nodded, unable to reply.

  Carl chuckled. “In fact, you should have seen Brad after you left. He acted like a besotted lover too distracted to fully concentrate on the business at hand. It was all I could do to keep a straight face.”

  Rachel cleared her throat. “Do you know how much longer he’ll be?”

  As if he’d heard the question, Brad appeared at the front door of the house. He took the front steps two at a time and loped over to where the Jeep was parked. “Sorry to take so long,” he said when he arrived. “I don’t know how long it will last, but Mrs. Crossland agreed not to come to the site more than once a week. In return, I told her to check with her husband about her proposed changes and have him call me.”

  Carl nodded. “Sure. Okay. Whatever it takes.”

  “Mrs. Crossland is lonely and bored, a deadly combination for a woman with too much money and time on her hands. I suggested she join her husband for a visit and see some of the sights of Europe. Who knows if she’ll take my advice, but I hope she’ll stay out of your hair,” he said to Carl. “If not, call me immediately.”

  “Praise the Lord and sing hallelujah,” Carl said. “The miracle worker has done his magic again.”

  Brad looked at his watch before he shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Would you mind if I borrowed your vehicle for a while?” he asked, his attention focused on Carl. “I’ve got some calls to make, and the files I need are at the condo.”

  “No problem,” Carl replied sounding genial. “When are you headed back to Dallas?”

  “That’s one of the decisions that needs to be made after I’ve checked with some people.”

  Rachel looked at Brad in surprise. What was there to decide? He’d already told her they would leave in the morning, with or without a resolution.

  With his eyes still trained on Carl, Brad added, “I’ll be back before you and the crew are through for the day.”

  Carl shook his head. “Don’t bother. One of the men can drop me off later. With this problem taken care of, I may go out and have a few beers with the guys, shoot some pool, wrap myself around a big steak and do some celebrating.”

  Rachel realized that if Carl wasn’t going to be home anytime soon, she and Brad would be at the condo alone for the next few hours.

  Oh, Mama, save me from myself.

  Brad got into the Jeep without acknowledging Rachel’s presence. He knew his rudeness was inexcusable. He also knew he didn’t dare look at her until he could manage to control his response to her. His pulse still raced an hour after that sizzling kiss.

  If he glanced at her he’d start to relive that moment…and to wonder about the obvious chemical combustion that had been set off between them. With his mind on what had happened he would probably drive off the damned road before they reached the condo.

  They rode in silence most of the way back. They turned into the entrance of the resort before he asked, “You hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  “Looked like Carl had the kitchen well stocked. Guess we can find something there unless you want to stop at a restaurant.”

  “The condo’s fine.” She spoke with her careful finishing-school voice, a sure sign that she was on edge.

  Well, hell. Why shouldn’t she be? He had tiptoed around her for years, playing down his attraction to her, never allowing himself to face the fact that this one particular woman turned him on like no other. Until now.

  So what did he intend to do about the mutual attraction the kiss had revealed?

  Over the years she’d shared with him stories about her home life, about her dad’s untimely death and how her mother had taken over the role of both parents. She hadn’t needed to tell him that her mother had taught Rachel how to become the classy lady he knew.

  Rachel didn’t indulge in affairs. He wasn’t certain how he knew that, but he did. Yes. Rachel was definitely a lady in the true sense of the word. He’d always thought of her as royalty. She handled herself in all kinds of situations with a polish that put him to shame. Always had.

  Except that something had happened between them today, something he couldn’t ignore. She had wanted him. He had felt the yearning, felt the heat…and had almost exploded with a sudden rush of frustrated desire.

  He’d mulled over Rachel’s problem with the creep who had left the notes. He had come up with some suggestions. She might not be open to any of them, but he wanted to discuss them with her while they had some time alone.

  Carl had understood. He’d as much as said he would give them some privacy for the rest of the day and evening.

  They arrived in front of the condo and left the Jeep in silence. Brad unlocked the door and motioned for Rachel to enter.

  Once inside she hovered on the landing as though unsure whether to go down to her bedroom or up to the living room.

  He nodded toward the stairs leading upward. “There are some items I need to discuss with you.”

  She immediately became his assistant, a role she played so well. “Certainly,” she said. “I’ll get my briefcase.” She started down the stairs.

  “You won’t need it,” he said. He didn’t wait for her. Instead he stepped around her and loped up the stairs in three strides. Once in the kitchen, he removed a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. After filling two tall glasses with ice, he added the tea and walked into the living room where Rachel stood watching him, waiting for his instructions.

  Brad handed her a glass and gestured to a comfortable-looking upholstered chair. When she sat, he took the matching one at an angle to hers. He was close but not close enough to touch. Plus, he could watch her face and interpret her reactions to what he had to say.

  She took a long drink before sighing with pleasure. “I needed that. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.” She took another drink, which prompted him to do the same.

  When he looked back at her, she’d set the glass on the small table between them and folded her hands. Her expression was serene, as it generally was. She’d reverted to her work mode, which wasn’t what he had in mind.

  “I have a couple of suggestions I’d like you to consider.”

  Slight lines formed between her eyebrows and she waited.

  “Here’s one of them,” he said. “I agree that you shouldn�
��t stay at your apartment. Who knows what this character might do next? You’re smart not to ignore safety issues.”

  She sat back in her chair with a look of surprise. Okay, so she hadn’t expected this conversation—this meeting—to be about her.

  He leaned forward, holding his frosted glass between both hands, his elbows resting on his knees. “My idea is that you move in with me.”

  She stared at him as though he’d started speaking in tongues.

  “It isn’t as though I don’t have the room. I do. You’ve seen my place. It’s way too big for one person, but I liked it, I could afford it, so I bought it. It’s secure, as you know…with the wrought-iron fence around the perimeter and electronic gates.” He glanced at her before returning his gaze to his glass.

  She didn’t say anything. She just stared at him blankly.

  “You’d be safe there,” he pointed out, hoping he sounded reasonable and logical when he wasn’t feeling either.

  He waited, grateful that she hadn’t immediately refused. Rachel generally weighed an idea, looking at it from all angles. He hoped she would see the logic in his suggestion.

  Finally, she said, “You’ve given this some thought, I take it,” in an even voice.

  She acted as though being asked to move in with someone was routine, whereas his hands were wet, and not because of the frosted glass he clutched. He nodded, adding, “Since you first told me about the notes.”

  “That might be a temporary solution, Brad, and I appreciate the offer but I don’t see where—”

  “I don’t mean temporarily.”

  She stiffened. “You can’t be serious. I can’t just move in with you permanently.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because!” For the first time since they arrived, Rachel appeared agitated. “Because it wouldn’t work, that’s why. We spend most of the day together. We both need a break from work at the end of the day.”

  He nodded. “That’s no problem. There are others things we can talk about.”

  That stopped her. A minute or so passed before she spoke. “Such as?” she asked, sounding a little breathless.

  He raised his eyes and let her see how very much he wanted her. “Such as where you’ll sleep, for starters,” he replied softly.

  He watched her struggle with the implications of his remark. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” she finally asked.

  He set the glass down and shoved his damp hand through his hair before he said, “We’re two single, healthy people, Rachel. There’s no reason why we can’t live together, sleep together and work together.” Did he sound as desperate to convince her as he felt?

  “I can think of one,” she replied after another long pause.

  “What?”

  “That isn’t the way I choose to live my life. Up till now I’ve managed to conduct myself in such a way that I can face myself each morning without cringing in disgust. I see no reason to change.”

  He’d counted on that reaction from her, even when he’d half hoped she’d consider his suggestion. “I have a solution for that, as well,” he said.

  “Oh, I can hardly wait to hear this one.” She dropped her head back against the backrest and closed her eyes. “What is this solution you have?”

  “We can get married.”

  She lifted her head and stared at him in shock. She was probably waiting for him to smile, to make light of the suggestion, to insist that he’d been making a joke. Only he didn’t smile. He’d never been more serious in his life. So he waited.

  Her voice sounded tentative. “On how many occasions during the years we’ve known each other have you firmly stated that you’re not the marrying kind, Brad?”

  His mouth twisted. “Let’s just say I don’t know much about the subject.”

  “It’s more than that and you know it. You’ve had ample opportunity to marry any number of women since I’ve known you.”

  “Yeah, but you see—I have this problem. I don’t trust many people. Wait. Let me clarify that for you. I don’t trust anyone. Except you.”

  “Oh, Brad,” she said, sounding much too emotional for his comfort.

  “Look,” he said quickly, “you’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone. Of course that may not be a positive argument for me to offer, but at least there wouldn’t be any surprises.”

  “You’re really serious, aren’t you?” she asked slowly, her gaze searching his face.

  He didn’t like the tenderness in her voice. Nor the compassion. This was about helping her. He wasn’t asking for her misplaced pity.

  He knew what he wanted. He wanted Rachel Wood to live with him. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw at night; the first thing he saw each morning.

  He wanted to hold her, to teach her how to make love to a man—how to make love with him.

  “I’ve heard you say more than once that love between two people doesn’t exist.”

  Where had that come from? “Yeah. So?”

  “So what you’re offering is a marriage where we meet each other’s needs in bed, but we don’t get emotionally involved. Do I have that right?”

  He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “I respect you, Rachel. You know that. And there can be no doubt in your mind after today that I can hardly keep my hands off you. I think our getting married is a much better idea than setting myself up to be sued for sexual harassment by one of my employees.”

  Brad felt the perspiration on his brow but refused to call attention to the moisture by wiping it away.

  She nodded. “Ah. Yes, I can see the logic in your thinking.”

  He sighed, feeling a burden lifted from his shoulders. “So it’s a deal?” he asked.

  “No, Brad. I can’t marry you, but I appreciate the kindness that prompted your offer.” She pushed forward in the chair as though to get up.

  “What are you talking about? I’m not being kind! I mean, I want to marry you but I’m not going to dress it up in a bunch of phony words that don’t mean anything. What’s wrong with that?”

  Now that she had moved forward, her knee was touching his. He felt seared to the bone by the heat of her touch. He took her hand and said, “There’s no doubt in my mind that we’d be as compatible in bed as we are out of it.”

  Brad reached for her other hand and pulled her into his lap. Before she could say anything, he kissed her. He knew he’d made a mess of things, but he needed her in so many ways. She couldn’t walk away from him. He had to convince her that they could make a marriage work.

  Rachel shifted as though to pull away from him. He deepened the kiss with a hunger he’d been denying for years.

  He lost his struggle with control when she responded to him, her mouth opening slightly while she slid her arms around his neck. She wants me, he thought triumphantly. At least she’s not denying it.

  Brad lost himself in the sensations that swept over him now that Rachel was in his arms. He could smell the light scent of her perfume, feel the velvety softness of her skin beneath his callused hand, hear her quick breath when he slipped his fingers around the buttons of her blouse and exposed her lace-covered breasts.

  He dipped his head and tasted her skin just above the lace, nuzzling until he could touch the tip of her hardened nipple with his tongue. She groaned and gave a small shudder of surrender, causing him to smile.

  It was going to be all right. He would make it all right. He couldn’t go back to what their relationship had been before this trip.

  When he lifted her shoulders, she helped him to remove her blouse. He paused and looked at her flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips. He’d never felt such protectiveness toward anyone.

  He unfastened her bra and tossed it away, at long last indulging himself in the sight and touch of her beauty. Once again he lifted her so that his mouth covered her breast while he stroked and caressed her bare back.

  He found her mouth again, tasting her and wanting more. With long, drugging kisses th
at invaded and possessed, he placed his brand on her, making sure she understood that she was his.

  Brad pushed her skirt to her thighs and rubbed his palm over the silk-covered curls. She was damp and ready for him. He touched her lightly, his fingers slipping beneath the thin material. She surged against his hand and made soft sounds beneath his lips.

  He needed to take her downstairs to her bed—or his, it didn’t matter. He wanted to show her how much he wanted her. He wanted to bring her to a screaming climax with his name on her lips as he buried himself deeply inside her.

  Words she’d spoken echoed in his head…she wanted to respect herself. She wanted to be able to face herself each morning.

  What in hell was he doing! Rachel deserved better than this. She was a lady and deserved his respect even though he had no love to offer her.

  With a muttered curse he withdrew his hand, jerking at her skirt until she was covered. He pulled her hard against him, unwilling to lose all contact with her. Not just yet. She was boneless in his arms, her hands clutching him, her body quivering with need.

  He felt lower than dirt, a new feeling for him. He always took what was offered and eventually moved on. He could not treat Rachel so casually.

  Not Rachel…his best friend…his only friend. He’d been truthful with her about that. He couldn’t seduce her. He would hate himself if he did.

  He gently kissed and caressed her, soothing the fire burning within her. He would not take her innocence. Brad felt a sense of shame that he’d momentarily considered seduction as a way to convince her to marry him.

  He smoothed his hands over her shoulders and delicate spine, forcing himself to think about anything other than the woman in his arms.

  When he eventually lifted his lips from hers, she had her eyes closed. Her mouth looked bruised, her cheeks scratched from the roughness of his beard.

  He should have shaved again. There were so many things he should have done before taking this step.

  She had every reason to hate him for what he’d done to her. Brad prayed she would be more forgiving than he deserved.