Hot and Bothered(62)

                God, that was an appealing suggestion. Her body still held the imprint of his and she craved more, not just of what he could do to her physically, but more of him, the man who knew her weaknesses and wanted her anyway.

                But she shook her head slowly. There were vultures closing in on them. “Hiatus,” she said. “Mark, please.”

                He hung his head for a moment. Then he straightened and looked her in the eye. “I’ll make you a deal. You can have it your way. But first, we eat breakfast. And then we go back to bed.”

                How much harm could it do? It wouldn’t be a hardship to go back to bed with him.

                What would be a hardship was stopping after that.

                Well, life was tough. Sticking to the plan was difficult. Image was demanding work. But it was good work, too. Necessary work. “And then we take a break.”

                He nodded. “If that’s really what you want.”

                “It’s the right thing for you, too,” she said. “Trust me. Going forward, I’ll make sure you have an acceptable date on your arm for all the events, and it’s not going to be me. I’ll find you another date for the fund-raiser. I’ll be there, but not with you. Just there.”

                “Making sure I don’t screw it up,” he said bitterly.

                “No—don’t be ridiculous. Just—” But of course he was right, wasn’t he? She’d be there in case anything went wrong, to rein him in or advise him.

                “Will you have a date, too?”

                “I think it would be for the best,” she said.

                “Let the record show, I think this sucks,” Mark said.

                She nodded. “The record will reflect your feelings.”

                She wanted to tell him just how much she thought it sucked, too. It caused an ache in the middle of her chest, a lump so big she could barely breathe around it. But she was afraid that he’d talk her out of this if he knew how much she hated it. And right now it felt as if her plan was the only thing keeping her heart safe.

                * * *

                IF HE WAS going to take a forced break—and maybe, though he hoped it wasn’t so, a permanent one—from Haven Hoyt, then he was going to make their time together count.

                They finished breakfast and cleaned the kitchen, and doing dishes was apparently better foreplay than he’d realized, because when they both reached into the soapy water for the same dish, her fingers had slipped between his, back and forth, in and out, until he lost his mind and crushed her mouth to his in the kind of kiss that went on and on, breaking off only for breath, resuming with more ferocity than before. Their kisses were hungry, and even mean sometimes, and then sweet for as long as they could stand it until they got desperate again.

                He stopped only because he wanted to do something else with that mouth of hers. He had ideas and he wanted her to know about them. He wanted to leave her with images in her head and sensations in her body that she wouldn’t forget during the weeks or months when they were playing this game of hers.

                He didn’t believe this was really a game, a hiatus or a break or “let’s get these complications off the table” or any of her bullshit. He believed it was an excuse. She couldn’t see him in her life or imagine going public with their relationship. In the end, she would choose her image over him because that was what she knew, because that was what was safe for her.