Pretend It's Love(20)

Heat prickled along her skin, the weight of Paul's arm heavy across her  midsection. The bare skin of her back was fused to his chest, the backs  of her thighs pressed against him.

What a night.

Heavy breathing told her he was still asleep … perhaps she could wriggle  out and make a quick getaway to avoid the awkward morning-after  chitchat. Would it be awkward? They had no expectations of each other,  and they weren't in a relationship. They both shunned emotional  entanglements.

Last night was nothing more than two people with mutual attraction  blowing off a little steam. Or a lot of steam, as the case may be. For a  moment she wondered how many women had woken up in his bed.

None of your business, don't even think about going there with him.

Aching limbs and niggling thoughts aside, Libby felt like a million  bucks. Clearly all she'd needed to lessen the weight on her shoulders  was a good, old-fashioned romp between the sheets. And too many orgasms  to count. Paul was relentless, pushing her harder and higher each time  until her body had nothing left to give.

"What was that little shiver for?" His sleepy voice sounded in her ear, his lips brushing the back of her neck.

"I think you're dreaming."

"Feels like it." He brushed his lips along the ridge of her shoulder. "I  don't ever have a beautiful woman in my bed when I wake up in real  life."

"Do you kick them all out before the sun comes up?" She rolled onto her back so she could see his face.

A hard mask settled over him, his eyes cold. "Something like that."

"I don't expect you to make me pancakes." Her hand came up to trace the hard line of his jaw. "Just so we're clear."

"So I should put the milk and eggs away?"

"You don't fool me, Paul Chapman. I know exactly what you want, and it's not breakfast."

He leaned over her, locking her down with his thigh and capturing her mouth with his. "You read me like a book."

"Right now you sound a lot like a teenage boy's diary. Sex on the brain."

He pretended to be hurt. "What else am I supposed to think about when you're lying there all naked and perfect like that?"

A warmth kindled in her chest. "My sparkling personality?"

"Not going to happen." His fingertips traced the length of her throat, his thumb skirting over the hollow at its base.

"What about how I'm a sharp business woman?" Her eyes fluttered shut as his hand trailed down to cup her breast.

"Tiger, all of those things are wonderful. But right now the only thing I want is to taste that sweet honey of yours."

Her sex clenched, but she resisted the urge to give in to him. "I really  should go. I've got a lot of planning to do for the wedding."

His hand dipped lower, a flat palm smoothing over her belly to cup the  gentle ache between her thighs. "What if I'm not done with you yet?"

"The best thing about sex without emotions is that I don't have worry  about hurting your feelings." She sucked in a breath as he traced a line  up her inner thigh.

"No, you just have to worry about your own." A dark shadow passed over his face, his eyes intently burning into her.

Something about the look unnerved her, as though she were crossing into  new territory and wandering in the wrong direction. That was the problem  with Paul, he drew her to him like a magnet. She knew she should leave  his bed, she had work to do and an exciting opportunity in front of her.         

     



 

But nothing else seemed to matter when he touched her.

Her worries about her business, about her father … everything melted away.  But she didn't belong here with him. Her focus had to be on her  business if she had any chance of making her own money and getting her  own place. If she had any chance of being successful.

Not to mention that this relationship was fake because she could never  be with someone like him … perfectly charming and sexy as hell. She  wouldn't put herself in a situation where she had to compete for his  attention. Been there, done that.

Never. Doing. It. Again.

"You know you've stopped telling me not to call you Tiger." His lips curved into a smile. "Does that mean I'm getting to you?"

"Or I've just realized that your persistence knows no bounds."

Deep down, in some dark corner of herself that she'd deny until the end  of time, she'd grown to like it. A nickname signaled belonging,  affection. Things she'd been hard up for most of her life, and he'd  given them to her even when her reaction was to keep him at a distance.

"You don't get anywhere in life without persistence."

"Wise words." She kissed the tip of his nose. "But I do have to go.  We're going to kill it at the wedding, you know. My cocktails will wow  everyone, and I'm going to convince the whole family that you're perfect  husband material."

"Let's not get carried away." He wrinkled his nose. "We're breaking up after the wedding, remember."

A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. "I know. But you want the family to think you're Mr. Responsible, right?"

"Right."

She pushed up from the bed, suddenly conscious of how naked she was  without the nighttime darkness to conceal her. "We'll make it happen, I  promise."

"Looking forward to it." He nodded, his eyes unreadable once more. "Hey … can I ask you something?"

"Sure." She looked around for her clothes but could only locate her underwear.

"Will you help me put a business plan together? You know, since Des is  being such a hard-ass about it." He rolled his eyes as if the idea was a  complete waste of time.

"Absolutely."

By the time Libby had showered and changed, Paul had gathered up her  supplies from the previous night and was waiting by the door. They  walked to the car in silence.

If it was only a night of fun between friends should she feel as though  her heart wanted to drop through the floor? He kept his distance,  helping her pack the box of now half-empty vodka bottles in her boot  without so much as a brush of his hand against her. A far cry from the  demanding, delicious touch he'd given her last night.

Libby bounced on her feet, words escaping her.

"I guess I'll see you soon," he said, standing back on the curb with his arms folded across his chest.

"Yeah, see you soon." She opened the car door and slid into the driver's seat.

Something told her each minute would be increasingly painful until she was in his arms again.





Chapter Ten

"Stop being such a baby!" Libby sat on a barstool at First, her laptop  open in front of her and a half-finished cocktail next to it. She shook  her head, sending copper curls bouncing around her face.

Paul gritted his teeth. "Do you really not see this is the stupidest  thing ever? Now I know why so many businesses fail, it's not poor  management … it's paperwork."

True to her word, Libby had set a time with him to work on the business  plan for the mixology school idea. She'd come to the bar on a quiet  Tuesday night, and they were brainstorming and working through her  template as Paul tended to his duties serving the few customers who'd  trickled in for a mid-week drink.

"Why should Des trust your idea will work without a plan?" She reached for her cocktail and sipped it, her eyes narrowed at him.

"Because I'm his brother … and it's a good idea."

"No, that's not how it works."

"Maybe because I'm not type A like you," he muttered under his breath as he polished a highball glass.

"Call me names if it makes you feel better, but we will finish this  plan." She huffed. "Although you're making it harder than it needs to  be."

"Because I don't like planning out every unimportant detail to the nth  degree?" He reached for another glass. "I'm a creative person, Libby,  not an accountant."

"That doesn't mean you can forgo the numbers side of things. Des is  right to ask for this plan." She tapped at her computer. "You need to  suck it up."         

     



 

"You're exceptionally bossy, you know that, right?"

"Thank you." The genuine smile that lit up her face made him laugh; only Libby would consider that a compliment.

Truth was he felt out of his depth. Numbers and market analysis and  contingency funds were so not his thing. The joy of his work came in  creating something new, something exciting. He loved the idea of  teaching people how to experiment, how to pair flavors, how to make  drinks that got people talking.

But this activity had only showed him just how different he and Libby  were. She had a business savvy unlike anything he'd ever seen before.  She even put Des to shame. Her understanding and knowledge highlighted  that he flew by the seat of his pants … with everything.

All of that should have made him want to run for the hills, but it didn't. And that terrified him.

"Okay." She tapped her nail against the bar for a moment, her lips pursed. "We need to talk about your pricing strategy."