He ached for her, wanted to shake her, wanted to sink into her soft womanly folds, to hold her naked body against his.
Hell, if cuddling in her sleep and sex were the only two avenues he had, he’d use them as unscrupulously as required.
He wasn’t giving up.
***
A week later, Kelsey lie in bed, trying to ignore the rising sun and Jared.
How could the man disturb her sensual equilibrium when she was so wary of him? Shouldn’t one cancel the other out?
Kelsey drew in a breath, looking away quickly as he walked naked from his closet, a casual shirt draped over his arm. But his image remained imprinted on her mind’s eye.
If he wasn’t such a sensual man, she’d have been tempted to think he was deliberately toying with her. For the last two weeks he hadn’t demanded sex or even mentioned it. But he touched her…often.
His hand to the small of her back as he followed her out of the apartment. Drawing her hand into his to lead her to a cab waiting at the curb. He brushed the hair away from her face, had once picked lint off her lapel.
Every time he leaned close, her pulse zipped into a tango rhythm, conjuring up memories of damp skin and moans in the dark. She tried to find her footing, tried for the friendly, distant attitude she’d used with her dates in years past. For some reason, her shield seemed to have evaporated.
That fact scared the heck out of her.
It was almost as if that glorious week of letting herself pretend love could be real had cracked open the door to her foolish heart. She could hate him or feel incredibly drawn to him. There didn’t seem to be any in-between. No middle ground. No safety net.
More often than not, her emotions seemed to contain both wariness and wanting. She missed his weight on her, hated the awkward silences that fell over the breakfast table.
She dreamed. Sweet, romantic fantasies and hot, erotic dreams. In many of these she was making slow, hungry love to him. Furious and yet insatiable.
This morning she’d woken aroused, so conscious of him next to her that it was all she could do to keep from rolling over and pressing her mouth to his.
It didn’t seem to matter that his trustworthiness was in question. She’d accepted that fact about men in general. A sane woman rarely laid her heart truly bare. But that didn’t change the fact that he drew her like a magnet.
Words between them were useless, but touch…touch seemed simple.
Across the bedroom, Jared pulled on his shirt, covering the golden expanse of muscled back.
Almost against her will, Kelsey watched him from her side of the bed. Still huddled under the covers, she hadn’t gotten up yet.
“I’m going to make some orange juice,” he said pleasantly, walking toward the door. Halfway there he paused as if he’d remembered something. Coming back toward the bed where she lie beneath the sheet, Jared leaned over her, stretching to reach for the newspaper he’d left on the bed. “Want some?”
“I’m…not hungry,” she managed to say, her voice feeling strangled. Heat from his body assailed her, along with the pheromone-laden scent that was his alone. Kelsey clenched her hands in the sheets.
Men could have sex regardless of how they felt. Why couldn’t women? Why couldn’t she throw the sheet off and pull him back into bed, purely for sex? No emotion, no love.
Jared was halfway to the door when the realization hit her. She felt a lot for him. Yes, she didn’t trust him, but that didn’t diminish the other feelings.
Alone in the bedroom now, Kelsey jumped from the bed and almost ran into the bathroom. Diving beneath the shower, she tried to ignore the ringing in her ears.
She wasn’t, absolutely wasn’t, falling for him. People had different emotions for other people all the time. That didn’t necessarily add up to love.
Loving Jared wasn’t acceptable. She wouldn’t allow herself to go there. Most men were safe, some easy to love, not so hard to forget. There was nothing easy about Jared. He was the largest risk she’d ever faced and she wasn’t fool enough to ignore that.
Dressing quickly in a casual sleeveless top and matching short skirt, she dried her hair and firmed up her defenses.
Wanting to have sex, enjoying the sex, didn’t equal love. People copulated all the time with people they didn’t give a flip about.
Leaving the bedroom, headed for the kitchen, she saw him through the floor-to-ceiling windows and paused. He sat on the terrace on a wide reclining chair, his hair lightly ruffled by the morning breeze.
She wanted to slide her hands into his hair, to draw his lips to hers.
With desire and longing pounding through her body, she hesitated, watching him. Why did she hold back? Why not share a bed with him? They’d started this marriage as almost a business deal. A deal that had specifically included sex.