“You kidding?” He demanded ironically, watching as she slipped her slender body into the bubbling water. “In a New York minute.”
Now, Willow looked shy, he realised with a grin. Her smile was cute, her eyes flying to his before flicking away again just as quickly. “It must seem a bit self-indulgent, to have this hot tub with this view,” she said finally, her laugh self-conscious.
“Self-indulgent?” He prompted curiously, thinking of his own fifth avenue penthouse, and the bathroom that had a king size spa with views over Manhattan and the park.
“Yeah. It’s a far cry from how I grew up.” She blinked at him. “It was the first thing I put in when I moved here. A little bit of luxury after everything screwed up with Ashton.”
“The married guy,” he said with a fierce clenching in his gut.
She nodded, and ran her fingertip along the top of the Jacuzzi. “Yeah.” She looked at him again, her eyes enormous in her face. Her long hair was wet from shoulder length down, hanging in tendrils around her face. “I wanted to spoil myself a bit. So I had this built. It’s how I met Ike and Anna. All that noise I was making, they were curious about what the heck I was doing.”
He looked in the direction of their friends’ house, though it was concealed from sight by the green vines. “Ike was probably jealous as hell.”
“Yeah, a little bit.” She grinned, then, as she stared across at him, his handsome face silhouetted by the pale husk of moonlight, she sobered. “So your marriage is really over?”
“Yeah.”
“And that’s really okay with you?”
He shifted in the Jacuzzi, so that he could put a hand on her knee, beneath the swirling, warm water. “Yes.” His pale blue eyes sought hers, and he lanced her questioning gaze, reassuring her that Meghan was a distant memory to him. He squeezed her flesh, and his body filled with sensual memories. He swallowed forcibly, and a muscled flexed in his cheek. “Why is this different to your childhood?” He asked, circling in on something she’d said earlier.
Willow frowned. “It’s so… I don’t know.” She smiled and shrugged at the same time. “My house was a block from the ‘L’ train. The neighbourhood was the pits. My mom’s a hairdresser and dad’s a mailman. They did the best they could but it wasn’t always easy for them to get by.” Her smile broadened. “That’s why I love books so much. Our TV broke when I was seven, and they couldn’t afford a new one. So I read. And I read. And I never stopped.”
Something seemed to click inside of him as he listened to her recount her upbringing. “Your parents sound like they gave you what you needed most.”
“Yes,” she nodded quickly. “Mom wasn’t an especially big reader herself, but she saw that I had the beginnings of a real book worm. So she signed me up to the local library, and she took me there whenever I wanted. At first, we went every Saturday morning. Then, it was three or four times a week. Finally, dad was picking up books for me in between times. I was a voracious reader. Looking back, it kept me out of a lot of trouble. Kids on my block were into all sorts of crap, but I always made excuses.”
“To get home to your books?” He teased softly.
She nodded. “Does that sound stupid?”
“Not at all.” He cleared his throat. “And writing?”
She reclined against the Perspex frame. “All the time.” She bit down on her lower lip, as she thought back through time. “I wrote short stories as a small child. Terrible, and always along the same lines. A valiant child princess who would save the world from an evil master.”
“Let me guess; her name was Willow?”
“Winona,” she responded with an impish grin. “My bookish alter ego.” She laughed at the memory.
“But that’s the kind of book you write now, isn’t it?”
“I suppose it is. I’ve always loved rescue adventures.”
“I really would like to read one.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You would?”
“Of course. Why not?”
“I guess you don’t strike me as much of a book person.”
His laugh was a rumble, from deep in his chest. “I don’t, huh?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“I hate to say it, but you’re wrong. So can I read one?”
She bit down on her lip. “Sure. Remind me and I’ll get you a copy later.”
He arched a brow. “Later?”
She flushed to the roots of her hair, then laughed. “Okay, fine. After I’ve had my way with you again.” She surprised him by crossing the water quickly and straddling him in the hot tub. He groaned as she brought her feminine core close to him. He swivelled his hips, his eyes locked to hers.
“I’m glad you changed your mind about us.”
“You sort of changed it for me,” she said with a wink.
He laughed, a husky sound deep in his throat. “Then I’m glad you let me.”
She stared in his eyes, and lifted a hand to his hair. “So am I.”
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly, and her pulse immediately whooshed up a gear. She ran her fingers across his chest, teasing his skin with her nails. She swallowed as she thought of the importance of what she was about to say. “I honestly had no clue sex could be like that.”
His eyes scanned her face, his expression thoughtful. “Besides Ashton, how many men have you been with?”
Her cheeks flushed pink but she stared at him defiantly. “One other.”
“I see.” That muscle flexed in his jaw again. She lifted a finger to it in wonderment.
“And so Ashton was… your first?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He swallowed. “And the other?”
Her lips were tight; slightly embarrassed. “A holiday fling last summer.”
“A holiday fling?” He smiled despite the way some strange, warm emotion was pounding through him.
“Yeah. Thom was passing through town. He was cute. I was a bit drunk.”
He shook his head slowly from side to side. “No regrets?”
“No.” She smiled at him, and it was such a sweetly innocent smile that he almost swore. “I mean, he was nice and everything. And I hadn’t been with anyone in a really long time.”
Matt burst out laughing at the sincere admission. “Much like now,” he pointed out, when his amusement had subsided.
“Yes.”
“So I’m what? Your refresher course in sex?”
She shook her head, and smiled at him slowly. “You’re the first man who’s ever made me feel that good.” Secretly, she wondered if he was the only man who ever would. She caught his hand and lifted it to her breast, to cover her racing heart. “Can you feel that?”
His gut clenched as, beneath his work-roughened hand, he felt the way her body was still trying to process their incredibly intense love-making. “Yeah.”
She bit down on her lip, her nerve endings fraying when he didn’t immediately respond. “Is that weird? I mean, I know you’re still technically married…”
“Hey, shhh,” he kissed her shoulder, and linked his hands behind her back. “It’s not weird. I’m quiet because I’m honoured and I’m not sure how to respond. After your perfect summation of what we shared, nothing I could say would match it.” He cleared his throat. “But I felt, when we were together, that there was something incredibly right and perfect about what we were doing. That there was no shame, no nothing. It was just… good.” He grimaced at the word. “Great. It was great.”
She nodded, and shifted a little, so that she was even nearer to him. She wanted him. Her body was alive with flames, and she wasn’t sure what, if anything, would put them out. He was a temporary fix, but they were raging beneath her skin, a little network of embers that refused to turn to ash.
“And tomorrow?” She whispered, her whole body sensitised to his response. It weighed heavily on her minds and she needed some kind of promise. Some sort of explanation.
His blue eyes seemed to shift with the weight of her question. He ran his hands along her back, pensively. “You tell me,” he said finally, fully aware it was a copout.
Willow’s smile spread slowly across her face. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” She shook her head from side to side. “And I don’t mind not knowing.”
His grin sent little arrows of desire flicking through her. “I like you, Willow.” Hell, he liked her a lot. A lot more than he dared admit to either of them. “But I don’t want either of us rushing into anything.”
Her heart thudded in her chest and she dropped her eyes. Why did his words hurt? She wasn’t after anything serious. Was she? She forced her features into a mask of relaxation. “Sure. I mean, your divorce is just happening now; I totally get it.”
He nodded slowly. His divorce. Was that why he felt a tug of concern? He lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, his groin straining as she nuzzled into the contact. “Meghan is in my past, Willow. And has been for a long time.” He frowned. “But I don’t want to hurt you. And that’s all I seem to do to women.” His laugh was awkward; an obvious attempt to turn a serious confession into a joke.