“Thank you,” she said softly.
“You’re so tense, Lily.” He moved one hand to her shoulders and kneaded her tight muscles gently.
“I’m still not used to this.”
Inwardly, Gage berated himself for putting both of them in this situation. He didn’t know what compelled him to draw her closer, to want to comfort her when she was obviously in distress. It wasn’t what he was looking for. But he couldn’t resist the urge to hold her, either, even as slight panic gnawed at his stomach.
It was the responsibility that came with bedding a virgin. He’d never done it before that first night with Lily, and he wouldn’t have done it if he would have had any idea that such a confident, sensual woman could have so little in the way of sexual experience.
Whether she believed him or not, she would remember him. Even he remembered his first lover and it had been nearly twenty-two years since the encounter. And it had only happened once. Like it or not, it was up to him to make sure she remembered her first times positively, since it would probably affect her future relationships.
He curled his arm more tightly around her as a fierce possessiveness, like nothing he’d ever felt before, coursed through him. He didn’t want to think about Lily being with another man. Ever. She was his.
Mine.
He loosened his hold on her and rolled onto his back, gritting his teeth. She wasn’t his. He didn’t want her to be. She couldn’t be.
He was having some sort of unforeseeable, uncontrollable response to being her first lover. Something he hadn’t imagined he was capable of. He wasn’t a traditional man. He was all for women being just as liberated as men when it came to sexual pursuits. Unless, of course, the woman was his sister. But he’d always sought out and preferred experienced women, so to have Lily’s lack of experience mean anything to him didn’t make any logical sense.
That he was bothered by her holding a part of herself back didn’t make sense, either. But he was. He gave himself over to pleasure when they were in bed together, but he never engaged his emotions. For him, that wasn’t a matter of holding back, that was simply how it was.
But after that first time, after that first, unexpected explosion of emotion, he sensed her fighting something, fighting him, each time they were together. He didn’t want that. He wanted to draw the biggest response from her that he could, wanted to take her to new heights of pleasure every time. He wanted to steal all of her inhibitions, wanted her to make love to him in the bright light of day with her hair down and her body revealed to him.
He shouldn’t want any of it, and none of it should matter. He had nothing to offer her. If he offered marriage what sort of prize would he be? A man who put his work before everything else. A man who would likely be just as good of a husband and father as his own father had been.
He drew her close to him again. Her virginity, her tears in the wake of a climax, none of it should matter. But it did.
CHAPTER NINE
THEY were leaving Thailand tonight, flying back to San Diego. Back to real life. Back to being boss and employee. Unless of course they were anywhere near where the media might be, then they were still an engaged couple. When they were really just a … not even a couple … just two people who had ended a recent, temporary, only physical fling.
Lily sighed and leaned back in her reclining chair, pretending to relax. That’s what they were doing, relaxing, out on the island where they’d shared their first kiss. But she wasn’t relaxed. She was aching inside and she wished, more than anything, that she wasn’t. She wished she didn’t feel anything. Maybe she should feel something, wistfulness maybe, a slight sadness that her incredible nights of pleasure were nearly over, but not this heaviness that had settled in her chest and made her entire being feel as if it was filled with lead.
Gage had been swimming, and she had been content to watch, studying his movements, his athleticism. Now, he was walking through the waves, making his way toward shore, his trunks resting low on his lean hips. And she couldn’t help but admire him. Her lover. Her lover whose body she’d barely seen because she’d only ever consented to make love with him in the dark. She knew the feel of his body, though, knew the taste of it. Her heart tightened, and she ignored it.
He moved to her and sat beside her, his gaze roaming over her body, his eyes hungry. She wasn’t as embarrassed this time, for him to see her in the bikini. She didn’t even feel terribly self-conscious with her makeup washed off and her hair damp and curling thanks to her brief swim. She didn’t need the shield as much as she had before.