One Breathless Night(12)

But she would never truly trust him again.

Five years he’d looked for Faith.

He’d followed her career, her life.

And Payton had never, not once, looked at Jenna the way he looked at Faith.

Jenna squeezed her eyes shut. She knew what she had to do. Call off the wedding.

Not over the phone, though. She’d arrange to see him tomorrow or the day after, depending on how raw she still felt. How wicked the weather was.

When he asked again where she was, she assured him she was fine, physically at least. There was no need to tell him about Rick, except that he’d made sure she was safe. But it took a while for Payton to hear her. To believe her.

By the time she hung up, she was exhausted. And cold. Freezing, actually. The room’s temperature had dropped considerably. She looked around for a switch, a knob or a dial to turn the heat up. But she hadn’t found one when she’d searched earlier and she couldn’t find anything now.

She slipped back into bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin. Her teeth chattered. Was this a symptom of a broken heart? Because it was broken, no two ways about it. And it really was freezing. The stupid apartment must’ve short-circuited. Was Rick having the same trouble?

Every thought was bracketed by shivering and when that didn’t stop, she added cursing. Out loud. This wasn’t like her at all. But nothing helped her feet warm up. Or the rest of her, for that matter. How was she supposed to get any sleep?

She threw back the covers and got up so quickly she had to hold on to the padded headboard for a few dizzy seconds. Then she tugged down her borrowed T-shirt and headed across the living room. Lights in the floor tile showed her the way. Precisely. Every step lit up the second her cold foot touched the tile. The one she left went dark.

Rick had pointed them out earlier but she’d forgotten. She jumped two tiles, then three, then straddled two tiles, which both lit up. Evidently, the floor was a lot smarter than the heating system.

She didn’t stop until she was at Rick’s door. He probably wasn’t asleep yet. Besides, he’d told her that if she needed anything at all, she shouldn’t hesitate to ask for it.

She hesitated.

Until the goose bumps on her arms sprouted their own goose bumps. When her first gentle knock got no response, she knocked again. Harder. She didn’t want to walk in without permission. Too much potential for seeing yet another thing she couldn’t unsee. The third knock did the trick.

“Come on in.”

His voice sounded low and gravelly, and once she opened the door, he made quite a picture sitting up in his bed. Perfectly dimmed lights had switched on from the ceiling. The light was soft enough to sleep through, but bright enough that she could see the way his hair spiked, how he was trying to blink himself awake. And that he wasn’t wearing a stitch.

“Jenna. You all right?”

Her teeth still chattered. His room didn’t feel a whole lot warmer than hers. “Go back to sleep,” she said, regretting that last knock. She should’ve known better. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t go. Please.”

With her back to him, she said, “The heat in my room doesn’t seem to be working.”

“The heat? Well, that should have been taken care of automatically.”

She glanced back at him, and then quickly turned away again. “You’d think so, but I’m freezing.”

“Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“You’re naked.”

He laughed. “I’ve got pajama bottoms on. If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll put the top on, too.”

“No, no. Of course not, just— All I need to know is where the controls are.”

“I’ll go have a look.”

“Really, you don’t need to get up...” She finally turned. Looking at him in that movie-star light quieted some of the louder warning signs in her head. He didn’t have six-pack abs, but his chest was lean and firm with just the right amount of dark hair. When he ran his hand through the mess on his head she saw his bicep bulge to perfection. Then she saw his face. His utterly bemused expression.

“You are,” she said, “a very nice man.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean it. You’ve been nothing but nice since the whole surreal incident began.”

“Great. You woke me up to tell me I’m nice. The ultimate death knell.” He covered a yawn and then rubbed his eyes. “I suppose you’re going to tell me I have a great personality, too.”

“Now that you mention it.” She shivered again, her extremities still Popsicles, and she guessed her nipples were extremities. Because damn, they were hard and cold. Good thing her arms were now across her chest with her hands tucked under her armpits. Although, the pose pulled up the T-shirt far enough that he could see the entire front of her scarlet bikini panties.

“Honestly, it’s not that cold. But I can see you’re shivering.” He patted the mattress next to him. “Come on. Get in. I won’t bite. I’m way too nice for that.”

This wasn’t what she’d come looking for, but she was in no mood to argue. Walking across the very large bedroom suite, this one as exquisitely decorated as her bedroom, only warmer, she started to relax. She could feel it in her jaw, her shoulders.

“I can’t sleep when my feet are cold,” she admitted. “You sure you don’t mind me stealing all the heat?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he said, holding up the covers for her.

She crawled in beside him. Shaking as much from adrenaline as cold. She was getting into a virtual stranger’s bed. Oh, who was she kidding? If he turned out to be Mr. Hyde instead of Dr. Jekyll, fine. At least she’d die in comfort.

The relief of the warm bed couldn’t be praised highly enough, though she had yet to stop shivering. When her thoughts flashed back to the phone call, another chill swept through her.

Her gaze connected with the man looking at her from his pillow. How could Rick seem safe and familiar after meeting him only hours ago? She managed a smile and inched closer, lured by the heat coming from his body. And by his eyes. Those damn hypnotic blue eyes of his could land her in real trouble if she didn’t pull herself together.

“I’m not drunk anymore,” she told him.

“Okay,” he said, looking slightly amused.

“So, I didn’t say you were nice because I was hammered. I’m not.”

“I believe you. Neither am I, even though I had the schnapps in my drink.”

“I probably should’ve had some in mine, too.”

“I can get you—”

“No.” She caught his arm before he could get up.

“How about more hot cocoa? To help get you warm.”

The way he was staring into her eyes, she’d bet anything he had just thought of a more personal approach to stop her shivering. A muscle running along his forearm tensed beneath her palm. The jitters had already started in her stomach, and she withdrew her hand. “I’m really glad we talked out there on the couch. I’m just sorry it was so one-sided.”

“I’m not. You have more at stake than I do.”

“Not really,” she said, somewhat confused. “We both had—it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about what happened anymore. For me, anyway. If you need to vent, I’m happy to listen.”

“No, I’ve done all the processing I need to do.” He seemed so sure, so...unaffected. “Unload all you want. Don’t worry about me.”

“Nope. I’m really done.” She smiled. “I realized today is the start of a whole new year for both of us. I think it’s safe to say, at least for me, a whole new life.”

“Huh,” he said, turning his body to face hers. “In all the drama I forgot about that. You’re right. We’re off to an interesting start, that’s for sure.”

“Yes, very interesting.” She realized something else—she wasn’t cold anymore. Not even a little. But she moved closer just the same. “Care to make it even more interesting?” she asked, equal parts thrilled and alarmed to see his eyes darken.

Rick grinned. “I’m a storm chaser. I’m always game for more interesting,” he said and stroked her cheek. “Are you sure, though?”

“I am.”

“I don’t want to do anything you’d regret.”

“Oh, Rick...” Jenna smiled into his handsome face. “I’m going to regret a lot of things about this trip. But none of them are you.”

He shifted close enough that their pillows and legs touched.

And when she leaned in for one of his amazing kisses, he met her more than halfway.

* * *

RICK WASN’T one hundred percent sure he wasn’t dreaming. He’d signed off on all things carnal half an hour after they’d reached the apartment. To have her in his arms? In his bed?

His dreams were never this good.

He pictured her as she’d stood in his doorway, her hair tousled, her hands tucked under her arms. Her nipples so hard he thought he saw the big eye on the front of the T-shirt blink. He’d never be able to wear that one again. Not just that particular T-shirt, but all of its identical twins.

Now he could feel those puckered nipples against his chest while one long leg wrapped itself over his thigh. Damn, if he had to choose between a category-five tornado and being here? The tornado would just have to chase itself.