At once he forced himself upright, giving her some distance so she could struggle to a sitting position. “Jesus, Margot, I’m sorry. I would never force you — ”
Her mouth, now looking a little swollen, shaped itself into a rueful smile. “You weren’t forcing me. I wanted — anyway, I just think it’s too soon. I can’t…I won’t go there yet.”
That was more than he’d hoped for. She had said “yet,” after all. Not “no.” He could wait. His body groaned at the delay, but his mind told it to get stuffed. “It’s fine, Margot. I understand.”
She nodded, then stood up. “I should probably go to bed now. Thank you for a lovely evening.” A pause, as if she were deciding what she should do next. Then she went up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, and even that faint touch of her lips to his skin was enough to get his blood racing all over again.
His hands wanted to reach out to her, to pull her close, but he willed himself to stand still, to simply say, “You’re welcome. Sleep well.”
Another nod, and then she was gone, heading up the staircase to her room. Lucas stood in front of the fire for a long moment, body still throbbing with need, then let out a sigh as he went to bank down the fire.
If only his own emotions could be so easily controlled.
9
Margot woke even earlier than usual, opening her eyes and blinking at the faint half-light of pre-dawn. For a second or two, she couldn’t recall where she was, didn’t recognize the high ceiling or the long drapes at the window, so different from the wooden blinds in her own house. Then she realized she was sleeping in Lucas Wilcox’s home, and that he was just a door or two down the hall from her.
And with that realization came the recollection of the way he had kissed her the night before, of how solid and strong his body had felt pressed against hers. He could never know how close she’d come to not stopping him. In fact, now she was regretting that she had. Wouldn’t that be the best way to deal with the situation? Just let her emotions go for once, no matter what happened?
Even if nothing ultimately came of it, at least she’d have had one spectacular lay.
But her brain had put on the brakes, and so she was lying here alone, and not next to Lucas.
Damn it.
Scowling, she shoved back the bedclothes and went to the window, pushed the curtains aside so she could see what the storm had wrought. Although she was wearing a long-sleeved sleep shirt, she could feel the cold seeming to emanate from the very glass itself, and she wondered what the temperature must be outside. Way below freezing, that was for sure.
The world in every direction had been blanketed in white, the branches of the trees drooping with snow, the deck half buried. Across the pristine expanse of the backyard, Margot could see one set of prints marring the snow. Deer, maybe?
She glanced at the clock. Ten minutes after six. Well, she was up, so she figured she might as well take a shower and get ready for the day. She had no idea whether Lucas was a late or an early riser, and her cheeks heated a bit as she thought how she would now know the answer to that question if she’d only allowed things to progress to their logical conclusion the night before. He did play golf. She had a vague idea that golfers tended to get up early.
Well, whether he was an early riser or not, she still needed to get herself put together. Somehow it seemed as if it would be easier to face him with her makeup on and her hair done, so she went into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower, impressed by how quickly it got hot. The same process would’ve taken twice as long with the balky water heater in her cottage.
But she wasn’t going to start comparing apples and oranges. No, she’d just stand here and let the hot water run over her, rinsing away some of last night’s encounter, allowing her to focus on the start of a new day. It did feel good, so she lingered there longer than she normally would, until at last she began to feel guilty about the water she was using up. No doubt this modern and up-to-date house could handle two people bathing at once, but she didn’t want to risk Lucas having a lukewarm shower whenever he did get up.
She got out of the shower, dried off, climbed into her underwear, and went to choose her clothes for the day. It seemed fairly clear that they wouldn’t be going anywhere soon, and so she put on a new pair of jeans and another sweater, this one a dark purple. After that it was time to dry her hair and put on some makeup, and by that point she felt more or less ready to face the world…or at least Lucas Wilcox.
The house felt quiet, calm, as she opened her door and went out into the hall. No sign of Lucas, not even the distant whispery sound of a shower running, and she hesitated for a moment. Would it seem odd to be roaming around the house when he wasn’t even up? But she could use some tea, if he had any. And maybe she’d grab the little sketchpad from her purse and try her hand at a rendering of all those tall pines blanketed with snow. It would probably be a dismal failure, but at least it would give her something to do.