“Alex…”
There was warmth in her voice and a kind of longing.
“Alex,” she said a third time, a sensual whisper that went straight to his groin. She shifted a little in her sleep.
For one unbearable minute Alex just stood there. Then he turned the knob soundlessly and got the hell out, shutting her door softly and firmly behind him and moving swiftly down the hall.
Alex ran a shaking hand across his forehead. This was bad. Oh, man, this was bad. It had been torture enough just imagining what her voice would sound like saying his name like that. Now he knew, and the reality was more intense than his fantasies, and Alex couldn’t think of the last time that had happened.
He’d courted the torture. Hell, he’d sent an engraved invitation. If he hadn’t been standing outside her door like some kind of lovesick puppy dog he never would have heard her. He wasn’t supposed to have heard her. He’d been listening in to her dreams, and if torture was the result, well, it was his own fault.
Maybe he should be glad that at least he knew, now, that she felt some of what he did. But somehow it made it worse, knowing that her subconscious or unconscious or whatever felt something for him, while her conscious had made it perfectly clear she didn’t even want him to flirt with her.
And now the image of her moving in her sleep, her back arching ever so slightly and her lips parting, was burned into his brain.
But no matter what sleeping Holly thought about him, wide-awake Holly had asked him to keep his distance, in very clear and unambiguous terms. And somehow, someway, he was going to find a way to manage it.
Starting tomorrow, he was going to spend every waking hour focused on football and his players. And if that didn’t work, maybe he could pack himself in ice.
That ought to do it.
Holly woke up slowly, feeling a delicious warmth running through her body. She stretched, thoroughly and with pleasure, feeling how delightful it was to move, to use her muscles. She must have gotten a really good night’s sleep, she decided.
Then her dream came flooding back. Alex. She’d dreamed about Alex last night.
She’d fantasized plenty, but she’d never had an honest to goodness dream about him. Or any man. Not like that, anyway. Come to think of it, this was the first sexy dream she’d ever had in her life.
It had been so real. Alex above her, Alex inside her, Alex surrounding her. It had been so real that the sexual languor started to wear off and embarrassment took its place.
Which was ridiculous, of course. She had no control over her dreams. And she was attracted to Alex, even though she had no plans of ever telling him that, so it wasn’t all that surprising that he’d pop up in her subconscious now and again.
Holly glanced at the clock. She’d gone to bed early so she’d be able to wake up early, and it had worked. It was six-thirty in the morning; she’d beaten the alarm by half an hour. She could get up, shower, dress, have breakfast with Will and still be at work by eight.
The only problem was, she didn’t want to move. She wanted to lie here with her eyes closed and imagine Alex touching her.
Suddenly disgusted with herself, Holly threw off the covers and slid her legs out to the floor. The weather had turned cooler last night and the floorboards were cold against her bare feet, sending a good bracing shiver through her as she headed for the bathroom. She added a good bracing shower, followed by a careful application of minimal, professional makeup. She picked out the most sober of all the outfits she’d bought yesterday, a dark gray wool pantsuit with a subdued pinstripe of lighter gray. Under it she wore a utilitarian bra and a gray cashmere turtleneck. Add to that her trusty chignon and a pair of low heels and she was ready to face the world.
Her head high and her steps brisk, she headed downstairs to see if Will was up before her. Alex would probably still be asleep, since his day started late and ended late.
Only he wasn’t asleep. He was right there in the kitchen when she came around the corner, and she actually crashed into him before she could stop herself.
He jumped away from her like he’d been shot.
“Holly!” he said, backing up to the other end of the kitchen. She must really have startled him.
And then, just as she’d feared, the sight of him brought back her dream in living color and she felt herself blushing. “Um, is Will up yet?” she asked to cover.
“Yes, he’s—”
“Here I am, Mom. Wow, you’re up early! I told Coach you wouldn’t be awake until twenty minutes before you had to leave for work.”
“Right. Well, I wanted to get an early start. You, too, I see. And you, Alex.”
“I’m on my way out the door now,” he said quickly. “And I’ll be back pretty late tonight. Go ahead and have dinner without me. I’ve got a lot of administrative chores to take care of, and then there’s the Steeltown game to prepare for. I’ll see you at practice, Will.” He started to head for the back door.