And she could see all those muscles and most of his tattoos.
She could see them because he was wearing jeans and the two white gauze bandages, one on his ribs and one on his cheek, and nothing else.
Not even socks.
Even his feet-clean, blunt toenails and smooth skin-were sexy.
The way that the snug denim clung to his long legs, muscular thighs, and slim hips mesmerized her. She wanted to run her hands down his legs.
Almost a month of constant temptation was making her crazy.
All sorts of thoughts crowded in Rox's head: reaching down to unbutton the bolt on his jeans, leaning over to kiss the healed scar just under his ribs, or just climbing on top of him and hanging on for dear life.
In all of Rox's ruminations, after she made a move, Cash would wind his fingers through her hair and hold her to his chest. Those brilliant green eyes of his would light for her.
But he would never do that. In three years, he hadn't made any sort of move, excepting one recent, wine-related, tickling transgression of their very firm boundaries.
And she didn't want him to.
Right?
Her wedding rings sparkled as she folded the gauze.
Maybe she should buy some new ones.
Bigger ones.
As always, Cash was watching her as she prepared the gauze and the tape. His dark green eyes seemed a little amused, and he watched her so closely, like he might be wondering what she was thinking, too.
But she was being silly.
She peeled off the old dressing, pressing her hand to his bare skin and the thick muscles of his abdomen to keep the tape from pulling and maybe yanking off a chunk of skin. Ouch.
Underneath, a pink scar creased his skin right below the lower line of his rib cage. The scar was melting into the flesh around it as it healed.
She was still resting her palm on his skin, and he breathed deeply, pushing his rib cage against her hand.
If she moved her fingers, she would be stroking his chest.
She didn't.
Yet, she left her hand resting on his warm skin, feeling the hard ripples of his abs, and she said, "This looks pretty healed up. I'm not sure it needs a dressing on it much longer."
Cash said, "The surgeon said I could stop bandaging it at my last appointment a week ago."
Her mouth dropped open. "Oh my God! Why didn't you tell me?"
He laughed, rolling away from her and clutching his stomach as he did so.
Rox picked up the gauze and flogged him with the trailing end. The gauze unrolled like a streamer and skittered off the side of the bed. "Cash Friso Amsberg! I declare, you will be the death of me! This is just like you, too."
He rolled to his knees, bracing himself and laughing at her. "How is it just like me?"
"Taking advantage of my kind and caring nature! You're a cad!" Even though she was laughing, she crawled backward off the bed. "Is the cut on your face healed up, too?"
Cash grabbed the white bandage on his cheek. "No."
Decision: joke about it or be real?
Now. She had to decide now.
Joke.
Rox vaulted across the bed, scampering on her hands and knees to get at him. "Gimme that!"
Cash stepped backward. "Rox, no."
She launched off the side of the bed and flung herself against his chest. "Come on! Let's see it."
"No!" He tried to step back, but she was already falling with him.
They ended up in a heap on the floor, but dirt wrassling comes far more naturally to Southern kids than it does to men raised in Swiss boarding schools.
Rox wound up on top. She elbowed away his defending hands and reached, careful about her nails, and pinched the end of the tape that had already peeled up.
Cash blocked her hand with one arm, knocking her fingers loose, and his other hand slid around her.
As soon as his strong arm slid around her waist, Rox knew that she had made a mistake. He wasn't joking around anymore, and he was a lot bigger and stronger than she was.
His arm settled on her hips, and he pushed up, tipping her over.
The look on his face wasn't angry, not at all.
He rolled with her, pinning her arms to her sides. In a second, he was on top. His strong, half-naked body pushed between her thighs.
Indeed, it appeared that they had ended up in one of his most accustomed positions.
She yelled, "Hey! Get off me, you big lunk!"
His hair, shaggy from not being cut for weeks longer than normal, flopped over his forehead and around his ears, those natural blond streaks running through it. The heat from his body seeped through her clothes, and when she shoved at him, her weak attempt at a push felt a lot more like she was grabbing his strong shoulders.
His strong, naked shoulders that were rounded with hard muscle.
Between her legs, his waist was lean, a hard line of muscle and sinew.
He froze, staring into her eyes.
His green eyes flicked back and forth, searching for something.
He had pushed himself up on his arms, strong muscles straining, and he hovered over her, still looking into her eyes.
A lingering whiff of his soap and a faint scent of his natural musk-a clean, male scent-drifted to her.
Rox knew she should be pushing him off of her, that she should tell him to get off, but she stroked up his shoulder, up his neck, and cupped his cheek in her palm.
He turned his head slightly, almost touching his lips to her wrist, but he kept watching her.
Everything that the other girls had warned her about Cash turned nebulous and fled, and Rox could see only his dark green eyes, so conflicted, so oddly vulnerable.
He said, "Say yes."
Rox's fingers trailed up into his hair, feeling the short silk between her fingers. She whispered, "Yes."
He dipped like a push-up and took her lips with his.
Oh, God.
His warm mouth caressed her, encouraging her to open her lips, to let him stroke her tongue with his, let him kiss her more and more deeply until he was slanted across her mouth, braced on his elbows, his body pressing hers. He was still between her legs, and he moved, just a little, just a press of his jeans against her.
Rox tightened her arms around his neck, and she gasped at the slow friction between her legs.
She hadn't been kissed at all for months, at least ten and a half months, and she had never been kissed like that. His mouth stroked and sucked her lips, his tongue rubbing hers, and everything he did made her think of what his mouth and tongue could do to other places on her body. He didn't hesitate at all, and he coaxed her, seduced her, until she was breathless and mindless, desperately wanting more.
He slowed, sucking gently at her lips, until he rested his forehead against hers. His breath was restless in his lungs, and his eyes were closed. He turned his head slightly so that the gauze bandage didn't brush her face.
He whispered, "When is your husband getting home from Thailand?"
Every cell in her body wanted to tell him the truth, to open herself to him and beg him to wrap his arms around her and take her. His hard body was so warm against hers, and she trembled inside.
She said, "He called a few days ago. Another month."
Cash's grunt sounded like he had been gut-punched. "Rox-"
Her arms tightened around his neck of their own volition, almost pulling him down to kiss her again. Truly, her arms were doing this without her meaning to. Every time she breathed, her breasts pressed against his chest.
"This was an accident," he whispered. "It doesn't mean anything."
He rocked back on his knees and hesitated, his head hanging, before he stood and helped her up.
Rox smoothed her slacks. "Cash-"
"We were drunk," he said, his bare chest still working as he breathed. "We need to cut down on the wine. If you tell Grant, say that it was my fault. I was a horny bastard and couldn't control myself."
"That's not what happened." She leaned, almost stepping forward to wrap her arms around him. Her knees felt like they might collapse under her.
"It is what happened. It's what I'll tell him if he wants to know. I'm the type of asshole who would try to fuck a married woman. Just ask anyone."
"That's not what they say." They said that wedding-ring diamonds were his kryptonite and that he never, ever made plays for married women, and he hadn't ever with her. "And that's not what I'll tell him."
When Cash looked up, a spark of anger lit his eyes. "Tell him that I said that you were beautiful and that I was there when you needed someone to take care of you."
DETOUR
The next morning, Cash was sitting out on the deck when Rox found him. An empty cereal bowl lay on the table beside him, and the steaming mug beside him was probably his second cup from the sharp look in his eyes.
"Morning," she said.
Cash cleared his throat. "Good morning."