Foolish Games(42)

“Why not?”

Definitely not the brightest question. She turned to him, her eyes all squinty and peevish now. “Well, Dr. Phil, if I knew the answer to that, don’t you think I’d fix it?”

Maybe it was hormones? He didn’t know he’d asked the question aloud until she pushed away from him.

“Ohmigosh, that’s all your super-sized brain can come up with? Maybe it’s hormones?”

Will put his hands up. “Okay, it’s probably not hormones, but I’m sure it’s only temporary. A gift like that just doesn’t disappear when you have a baby. It’ll come back. You’ll see.”

Julianne had that vulnerable look about her again, and Will had to stop himself from gathering her in his arms. That move always got them in trouble.

“It’s been nearly a year.” Julianne’s voice was soft and sad. “What if it doesn’t?”

“It will,” he reassured her. “In the meantime, you have other designers on your staff who can carry your company along, right?”

She slowly shook her head. “No, I am . . . was . . . the only designer at JV Designs.”

The word was hung ominously in the air. Julianne wouldn’t look at him, so he bent his head in front of her face. “Was?”

Julianne blinked slowly before nodding. “I sold my company.”

“Why?” he asked, although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“To pay Owen’s medical bills,” she whispered.

“Ahhh, for the love of . . .” Will couldn’t finish the sentence, he was so angry. He’d wondered why there wasn’t a bill when Owen was discharged from the hospital, but he figured it went through insurance first. Did she not have medical insurance? Somehow, he wasn’t surprised.

“And before you start accusing me of being bat crazy again, I had to do it. It wouldn’t have been fair making you pay for Owen when you didn’t want him in the first place.”

“It’s bat-shit crazy, and I don’t think even the bats are as crazy as you!” He backed her against the wall. “I told you I was going to pay for half of Owen’s care. But do you listen? No! This is why smart people like me plan ahead instead of that whole seat-of-the-pants thing you’ve got going. I was right that first day, you need a keeper. Obviously the senator and your business manager can’t keep you under control. I guess it’s up to me.”

Julianne’s eyes were slits again. “As if you can!”

Her challenge hung in the air for a moment before he descended on her. “Stop telling me I don’t want my son.” He wanted to strangle her, but only a psychopath would do that to his child’s mother with their kid in the room. So he opted for kissing her instead. And it was an incredible kiss. Like a man who’d gone without food or water for days, he devoured her.

Best of all, she was kissing him back. With a sigh, her lips parted right away, giving him access to her soft mouth. Their tongues played as her hands slipped under his T-shirt and her nails stroked down his back. Will groaned as his fingers kneaded her hips, pulling them closer to meet with his hard body. His mouth left hers to explore her jaw, raining kisses there before visiting the sweet spot on her neck.

“I swear, you’ve cast a spell on me,” he whispered in her ear before finding her lips once again.

His tongue explored her sweet, hot mouth in a soul-searching kiss. The sensation of tasting her again blazed into something raw and needy inside him. Small sounds of pleasure bubbled from her throat as she kissed him with a matching urgent need. Will stepped between her thighs, backing her toward the wall, one hand grazing a breast as the other cupped her bottom. He felt her gasp as her body became aware of his arousal.

“Will,” she breathed. “Please!”

Unfortunately it wasn’t the please he was looking for, because she was pushing him away.

“I . . . we can’t do this.”

His lips cruised her neck and he felt her tremble. “Why not? We are married.”

“Except this isn’t a real marriage.” Her voice was starting to sound a little clearer and a lot more in control. Not a good sign. “I’m not good at casual sex.”

He stepped back, not releasing her totally, and lifted an eyebrow at her. She leaned her head back against the wall, her neck pink where the stubble from his beard had marked her. Will stifled a groan, knowing he might have already lost this set of downs.

“That night doesn’t count. I was doped on medicine and I don’t remember it.”

“So you keep saying.”

She traced a finger over his biceps. “This is only temporary. It’s complicated enough with Owen, but this . . . this would only make it messier. I’m not good with messy.”