Red Hot Holiday Bundle(18)
This time his shrug was careless. “I don’t need one. The explanation is inherent in the answer.”
Not for her, it wasn’t. “It’s not inherent. It’s complicated.”
He nodded; she couldn’t decide if it was being thoughtful or condescending. “You want me to know that choosing to live as a kept woman would give you the means to help others. That it wouldn’t be about what you might want for yourself.”
Uncanny how accurate he was. Was he testing her? Deciding how they fit out of bed? If she shared his appreciation for the finer things in life?
If she understood the happiness of not doing without what money was able to buy?
“Yes. I would choose to be a kept woman.”
“For the reasons I gave?”
Infuriating man. “I thought you didn’t need an explanation.”
“I don’t. You do.”
She wanted to roll her eyes. He was obviously out to prove that being a have was better than being a have not, that there was nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of one’s labors. And there wasn’t.
But equating riches to emotional well-being wasn’t the same. At least not for her. The things she wanted most out of life were things that couldn’t be bought—no matter what personal wealth she acquired.
She wondered if their priorities were truly that far apart. Or if he simply took a perverse pleasure in goading her. For some reason, she wanted to bet on the latter. “What I need is an explanation from you.”
“About?”
Her turn to make him squirm. “What one thing do you want most in life that you haven’t yet acquired?”
He didn’t hesitate or stutter or make her beg. All he did was meet her gaze and say, “You.”
HE’D WONDERED if she would answer. No, he’d wondered if she would answer honestly. If she’d choose to be noble or if she’d put herself out there and let the chips fall. Hell, he wouldn’t have challenged her if he’d thought all she would do was cave.
He could’ve argued her choice proved his point that happiness was most definitely for sale—even if her happiness seemed bound up with having the means to help others. But he hadn’t. He’d given her a noble out. One she’d refused.
Then he’d pushed out of the chair where he’d been sitting, taken hold of her wrist, and tugged her into the bedroom. He was tired of talking. The sex they’d shared last night had been like a series of flash fires exploding, but with too much conversation between.
Tonight would be all about making love.
He wanted to drink her in, to learn her, to make himself so much a part of her she’d lose where she ended and he began. And he wasn’t deterred by the fact that what he was describing sounded like emotional involvement.
That’s not what it was. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t let that happen.
Standing at the foot of her bed, he faced her to unbutton her soft pink blouse. Her skirt was brown with pinstripes to match. She worked for herself, didn’t see clients every day, yet she dressed like a corporate lawyer.
She took her business seriously, as did he, and that pleased him. He would never have to explain work keeping him late at the office. He wouldn’t demand she reschedule an appointment that conflicted with his plans.
They fit together. They worked. They were the closest thing to being a matched two-of-a-kind he’d known. Except for their disparate viewpoints on money.
And though he was in no mood to talk, he couldn’t let the subject go. “I’m not a bad guy, Claire. But I don’t like having to defend my life.”
She glanced from his fingers on her buttons up to his face. Her eyes were a misty blue. “You want to talk about your life while you’re taking off my clothes?”
“Yes.” He peeled her blouse off her shoulders, tugged it from the waistband of her skirt. Then he reached up to loosen her hair from its binding. “You’re a part of it now.”
“I am?” she asked, her eyes drifting shut as he finger-combed the long strands.
His gut tightened. “I may be a bastard when it comes to money. But I don’t shag and run.”
She smiled at that, a soft lift of the same lips he wanted to feel kissing his body. “You were gone when I woke up this morning.”
“I stayed as long as I could.” He thought of her spooned up against him and tugged down her skirt’s zipper. The garment slid to the floor. “I had a breakfast meeting.”
“Mmm. I’m starving.” She stood there barefoot wearing only her bra and panties. Gooseflesh pebbled her skin. “I haven’t eaten much of anything the last two days.”
“Breakfast in bed. I promise.” He released the clasp of her bra, then filled his hands with the weight of her breasts. Her nipples grew hard in his palms.