Blush(67)

“Let’s go liberate the beast, then hit the sack.” Cruz wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked through the carport into the backyard, where his truck and camper were parked near the house. Mia slipped her arm around his waist and listened to the throaty moans of the frogs and the dog’s happy barks as their feet crunched on the dead grass. She’d miss this place when she was back in San Francisco.

Maybe she’d keep it. Hire a property manager to ensure all the repairs got done. She could come here for vacations— No. She couldn’t: (a) she never took vacations, and (b) every time she set foot on the property she’d remember Cruz.

No. When this was over, eventually she’d sell the house, and not give it a second’s thought. Would their time spent together be a fond memory, or would thinking about him tear off another little chunk of her heart?

She’d deal with the aftermath as she did every other crisis, decision, and big event in her life. By analyzing it, researching her options, weighing the facts, and making an informed, rational decision.

Except she had no facts about Cruz other than what he presented to her, and, God help her, she couldn’t make any rational decisions because everything she knew and felt was based on her visceral physical response to him, and pure emotion.

She knew that any man with his sexual appetite had a bedpost somewhere notched with all the nameless women he’d had sex with.

Even in his passion he was cool and controlled. He kept himself so well guarded, it would take a lifetime to really get to know him. Mia knew she didn’t have lifetime, or anything close to it. He was more drifter and less the kind to stick around, especially since she’d told him the truth about who she was. She couldn’t picture Cruz mixing in high society, not when he wore the bad-boy persona so well. Not that he couldn’t, she suspected; he just wouldn’t be bothered to make the effort.

Her business in San Francisco would be concluded in days. Todd and Miles would figure out who was trying to kill her, and she’d go home. Where did that leave any chance of a relationship with Cruz?

She knew she wouldn’t sleep for what was left of the night. She had a lot to think about. At home, when her mind was too full to sleep, she went into her gym and worked out until she pretty much dropped. There was no gym here, and with Cruz in the room she wasn’t going to try to master that stupid pole.

Instead, she’d lie beside him, memorizing his sleeping face all night. Because dollars to doughnuts, one day, sooner rather than later, Cruz would be long gone when she woke up.

• • •

“What are you reading?” Mia looked adorable, and sexy as hell, wearing black horn-rimmed glasses and a frown of concentration as she leaned against a mound of pillows. Her laptop was balanced precariously on the mountain of her knees and a book was propped against her thighs.

She wasn’t naked. Thin, fire-engine red straps curled over creamy bare shoulders. The snowy sheet covered the rest.

Pulling the glasses down her nose, she gave him a sweet smile that caused some weird shit in his chest. Which was damned odd. He’d been aloof and cold inside from childhood. His mother’s death had closed off what little emotion was left. He had never considered his lack of emotion an issue. Never even noticed one way or another.

But a smile from Mia made his insides feel as if the block of ice was slowly thawing.

Cruz felt a jolt of panic at the sensation.

Maybe, once he was satiated by her, he’d lose this odd ache he felt when she smiled at him with complete trust in her eyes.

“Tomorrow I thought I’d try my hand at making something incredibly valuable and stunningly beautiful with my potter’s wheel.”

He had a flash memory of some movie with two people slippery with clay. . . . “Does it have to be either to have value to you?” he asked, toeing off his shoes and pulling his T-shirt over his head at the same time.

Like a naughty schoolmarm, she gave his bare chest a hot look over her reading glasses. “No. But anything worth doing is worth doing well.” Her twinkling eyes returned to his face, and she gave him a smile he was sure wasn’t intended to be seductive, but the end result was the same. “I might have an aptitude for it. Who knows?”

Cruz unzipped his jeans, not in the least surprised to discover he had a boner. “You won’t know till you try.”

He slipped between the smooth, cool cotton sheets, then rolled to his side to face her, propping his head on his folded arm. She had all the pillows. “Are you going to be at that all night?”

“Why?” She gave him a serious look. “Do you have anything else in mind?”