Pretend It's Love(26)

"Maybe not when it comes to business." He took the cup from her hands  and set it down on the bench. "But I'm smarter when it comes to other  things."

"Like what?" she whispered.

"Sex."

"That's all you want me for, isn't it?" She laughed as if the statement  was a joke, but he caught the uncertain flicker in her eyes.

He never wanted her to feel like that. Sure, he couldn't give her  anything more … but it wasn't all she was worth. Not by a long shot.

He brushed her hair over one bare shoulder, trailing his fingers along  her skin. His blood buzzed at the sharp intake of her breath, sending  all the pressure rushing south. Goosebumps rippled across her skin where  his fingers had been, like proof of his touch.

"You inspire me, Libby," he said, sliding his hand up her neck to cup the back of her head.

"I do?" She tilted her face up to his, her hazel eyes bright and wide.

"You're so ambitious and driven." He pressed his lips to her jaw. "You don't take any shit, but you've got a good heart."

"I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me." She  laughed, narrowing her eyes at him in mock scrutiny. "You're trying to  get me into bed again, aren't you?"

"We don't have to make it to the bed." He hoisted her up and carried her to the dining table.

"You know that girl Cassie came here for you." The words slipped out as he set her down.

"What?" He shook his head.

"She moved to Australia for you."

Paul raked a hand through his hair and rubbed the nape of his neck. "No,  she didn't. She's been sick of London for a while, and I said she  should come here because the weather is nice."

"How long after you said that did she move?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "A month."

"Had you ever said it before?"

"Well … " He frowned, his eyes dropping to the ground as he tried to recall. "No."

"So she came here as soon as you said she should."

"You're making something out of nothing. We didn't have a relationship  or anything, we were just backpacking and barhopping. It wasn't  serious."

"I think she wanted it to be."

"How do you know that?"

Cassie had known from the start that he was on the rebound from Sadie  when they'd met. He'd taken the money he'd saved up for her ring and  spent it on three months of travel and denial. Cassie was a temporary  thing, a way to drown his sorrows, and he'd been nothing but honest  about that.

"I saw the way she looked at you, Paul. She came here for you, and  you're absolutely clueless." Libby swung her legs back and forth. "Did  you promise her the world?"

"To get her into bed? No, she knew exactly what she was getting into."  How could Libby think he'd lie just to sleep with someone? "It's not my  fault if she wants more."

"Well, whether or not you were up-front with her, she has feelings for  you." Libby swallowed and shrugged, her face neutral. "Maybe you should  go and talk to her after we ‘break up'."

"I'm not interested in Cassie … not like that. Not anymore. She's just a  friend." He paused for a moment, watching the way her eyes flicked over  his face as if she was looking for something. "You're jealous."

"I am not!" She went to jump down from the table but he pinned her there with a hand on either side of her thighs.

"You're totally jealous." He laughed and Libby's face flamed as red as her hair.

"You're not God's gift to women, you know," she grumbled. "But honestly,  your ego is fascinating. I've never seen anything so big before."         

     



 

"You know, that's not the first time someone has said that to me." He  grinned and she swatted at him, narrowly missing his cheek.

"I stuck up for you, and this is the thanks I get?"

"Yep." His hands ran along her thighs, pushing up the fabric of her dress. "You wouldn't like it if I made it easy for you."

"Bullshit. I would very much enjoy life if you made it easier for me."

"You have many great skills, Tiger. But lying isn't one of them."

She locked her hands down over his, preventing him from going higher. "Many great skills, you say. Care to elaborate?"

"You've got a talented mouth."

She rolled her eyes.

"You know, since you speak so eloquently," he said. "And beautiful hands."

"Don't feed me all that crap you've used on other girls." She brushed his hands away. "I'm different, and I won't fall for it."

Didn't he know it? Libby was so far from his realm of experience that he  may as well be starting from scratch. But that's what she did to him.  She'd broken down all his long-held beliefs-that he was happy taking the  easy road through life, that he didn't want to be with anyone for more  than a night-and systematically made him question the existence he'd  created for himself.

"I know you're different." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "That's why you're still here."

She bit down on her lip and looked away. "You better not get attached to me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"I'm not going to change my mind on the relationship thing," she said,  but her voice wavered ever so slightly. "I'm not interested in being  tied to someone until we both hate each other. It's better to enjoy the  good bits while they last and move on before it hurts too much. That's  why I pointed out the thing about Cassie … you know, so you can talk to  her after we break up."

"Right." He nodded, unsure what to do with the barrier she was desperately trying to put between them.

At one point he'd have been thrilled for a woman to keep things casual,  but being with Libby had started to change him. He wanted more out of  life than to cruise through without being committed to anyone or  anything. He deserved more … she'd made him see that.

He didn't have to be the man his family thought he was. He would change,  not to prove they were wrong but to prove he'd been wrong.

"I like you a lot, Paul." She touched his face, the gentle pressure of  her fingertips zinging through him like bolts of electricity. "But I  can't feel anything more than that. I won't let myself."

"You don't need to reassure me." He brought his hands back to her legs and parted them so he could stand closer to her.

The pressure of her thighs against his hips sent delicious heat through  him. He ached for her, body and soul. But he'd only allow himself to  fulfill one of those needs. He wouldn't ever tell her how he felt  knowing she would walk away.

He wasn't going to have his heart broken again.





Chapter Twelve

The closer Gracie and Des's wedding drew, the heavier the pit in Libby's  stomach. What was supposed to be a simple solution to a business  problem had turned into a complicated personal conundrum. So much for  leaving sex and emotion out of it. She'd failed spectacularly at the  first one and was slipping down a steep ravine into the second.

The suitcase on her bed gaped at her like a big hungry mouth. She'd  started packing half an hour ago, yet not a single item of clothing had  made it into her luggage. The wedding was tomorrow; she had to pull  herself together.

Pick a dress, match the shoes, find a pair of earrings. It's not that hard.

Libby glared at the two dresses that hung on the doors of her antique  armoire. Decision paralysis was so not her thing, yet she couldn't seem  to make a choice. Picking the dress meant packing her things, which  meant getting in her car and driving all the way to the Yarra Valley … and  seeing Paul.

Her stomach churned. Since her big confession she'd been in a spin, and  her mind refused to concentrate. Her ambition had deserted her, and she  had the mental acuity of a stuffed llama. Even her motor skills were  off. She'd shattered a wineglass on the kitchen faucet and dropped a  fresh vase of flowers all over the carpet in her office.

Not exactly the picture of a put-together businesswoman.

"Come on," she muttered to herself as she studied the dresses. "Just do it."

The first one was sexy, backless, and black; it wasn't her usual style  but she knew Paul would love it. The second was a bold pink and yellow  50s-style full-skirted number, definitely in her comfort zone.         

     



 

She took a deep breath and snatched the black dress from her armoire,  folding it in tissue and packing it before she could change her mind.  She matched a pair of nude heels and a set of vintage enamel jewelry  quickly, doing her hardest not to think about Paul.

Talk about a lesson in futility. Trying not to think about Paul was like trying not to blink … or breathe.

No matter how many times she mentioned the looming deadline of their  relationship-and noticed how Paul seized up-she couldn't force reality  to sink in. Would it be so bad to let things linger on and see if what  they had extended beyond the wedding?