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And then they were on the bed. She was hot and restless under him as he slipped his hand under her skirt and dragged the fragile fabric up to her knees and then past her smooth thighs. Her hands were doing crazy things to his body, running over his back and slipping on to his ribs. He found the soft skin of her throat with his lips while parting her legs with his knee. As she cradled his h*ps with her own, he growled deep in his throat and concentrated on getting her naked.
However good he’d thought it would be between them, the reality blew the doors off his fantasies.
Frankie reached between them and fumbled with the fly of his pants as Nate undid the buttons down the front of her blouse. He lifted himself from her and kicked off the khakis while stripping off her shirt. She reached for the clasp of her bra, thinking she loved a man who could multitask.“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, stilling her hands. “I want to do that.”
He kissed her again as he traced the lace edges of the bra with his fingertips, and his touch was gentle considering how frantic they both were. Her eyes met his. He was so hungry, she thought. The skin on his face was tight, as if he were in pain.
No man had ever looked at her like that. And she’d never imagined one would.
Cool air hit her br**sts as he did away with the lace, and then the warmth of his palms was on her tender skin. She felt no modesty at all as his gaze fell upon her body. How could she? She saw herself reflected in his eyes, through the prism of his reverence and awe. In his arms, she was beautiful and she felt an absurd desire to thank him, but kissed him instead.
He nuzzled his way down her neck and over her collarbone, and then his lips brushed against the side of her breast. She arched up off the mattress as he took her nipple into his mouth, the warm, wet feel of his tongue making her cry out. He answered her with a groan of his own and reached underneath her, undoing the skirt. She pushed it off and entwined her legs with his, feeling the length of him pressing into her, all hard demand. God, he was deliciously heavy.
Her panties disappeared and his boxers were gone, and then it was skin on skin, mouths on mouths, hands seeking and finding pleasure.
“Condom,” he mumbled against her neck. “We need a—oh God! Touch me again like that.”
“Here?”
He let out a crazy moan. “Yeah. There.”
Condom? Did she even have one?
“I don’t—” She didn’t finish because he kissed her, tongue deep in her mouth.
“Have one?” he said, when he pulled back to catch his breath.
“Yeah, I haven’t done this in a while.” If she had kept any around from her time with David, they would have turned to dust by now.
Nate leaped off her and jogged across the hall. “Let me see if I do.”
The curse word that floated out of his room didn’t inspire confidence.
He came back. “There a pharmacy around here?”
“Not open this late.”
“Grocery store?”
She shook her head. “It’s after ten.”
“Damn.”
He had a wild look on his face as he hesitated. Then he kicked the door closed and stalked over to the bed. She welcomed him with open arms.
“I’m totally into safe sex,” she said, anticipation roaring through her. “But we don’t have to—”
And then he suddenly stiffened against her. The lack of movement was a complete shock.
As she looked up, his eyes went dark, haunted. His face assumed a tortured expression, one that had nothing to do with the wanting.
What she’d been about to say was there were other ways for them to finish the evening off. Except now, all the heat appeared to have been sucked out of him. Out of the whole room.
“Nate?”
He seemed to shake himself from whatever had captured him.
“No buts,” he said hoarsely. “About safe sex.”
He kissed her again, but it wasn’t the same. Something had taken him away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He rolled over on to his back, tucking her into his side. His hand stroked her shoulder, but it was a restless movement.
“Nate?”
His eyes were focused somewhere across the room.
“It’s all right. Whatever it is,” she said.
He finally looked at her. And she realized he was measuring her, although against what she wasn’t sure.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “But I need to go.”
Even though she’d been undressed for the last half hour, she suddenly felt n**ed and pulled her top sheet around her body. “Okay.”
He got off the bed, picked up his clothes and left.
Chapter Eleven
N ate dropped his shirt and pants on the floor and paced around his room naked. It was no big surprise that he’d come unglued.
Seeing that little girl with her daddy. Having Frankie suggest they could have sex without protection. And boom!…he was right back in the nightmare.He sat down on the bed, put his head in his hands, and tried to breathe.
How old would his child have been now? Three. He or she would have been three.
If only Celia hadn’t ended the pregnancy. If only he’d been the rich man she’d thought he was—
There was a soft knock on the door.
He pulled on some boxers. “Yeah.”
He didn’t look up as the hinges creaked. He knew who it was.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Frankie’s voice was warm, concerned.
He had to give her credit. There were few women who would handle the transition from hot and bothered to cold and deserted so well.
“Are you?” she whispered.
He wasn’t going to lie to her so he kept his mouth shut. Because he wasn’t okay. He hadn’t been okay for a while although he’d gotten damn good at hiding it.
He felt the mattress dip down slightly as she sat next to him. She’d pulled on jeans and a long T-shirt.
“If you want to talk…”
“No.” Because damn it, he was on the verge of tears. And there was no way he was going to cry in front of her. Going limp in her bed was enough of a cringer for one night.
“That’s all right.” She let out a small laugh. “I know all about keeping things inside as you’ve witnessed firsthand. So I’m good with silence.”
He didn’t answer her, but reached out and took her hand in his. Her skin was smooth, soft. He stroked his thumb over the pad of her palm.
“You know what?” she said.
“Hmm?”
“We keep this up, we might just get to be friends after all.”
He looked over at her. She’d left her glasses back in her room. God, her eyes were lovely. So blue. A bottomless blue. He had the sudden impulse to get lost in her eyes, just let himself float away and trust that she would catch him. He opened his mouth.
Ah, hell. He couldn’t do it. “I’m sorry, Frankie.”
She reached up and brushed his hair back. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
“I don’t care that we stopped. Well, I do. But I wouldn’t want you to be with me if you had doubts.”
Doubts? About being with her? He’d been so into her, he’d almost said to hell with the condom. And that was at the core of what killed him. That he’d been so tempted to throw out common sense just because he wanted her so badly.
Considering all he’d lost, you’d figure he would have learned something.
Self-hatred burned in his gut. With Celia, he’d been careless. With Frankie, he’d been close to losing control. Neither spoke well of him as a man.
“Will you let me stay with you awhile?” she asked. “Not to have sex or anything. Just to, you know, hold you.”
“Yeah.” He’d like that.
Nate leaned back against the pillow and she curled up at his side. Her breath drifted across his bare chest and her hand rested on his waist lightly. He crossed his feet at the ankles and closed his eyes. Her presence eased him.
“Now I know how hard it is,” she said softly.
“What?”
“Wanting to help and not being able to.”
He kissed her temple. “You are helping.”
Frankie shifted, felt her thigh brush against warm, male skin and came awake instantly. She looked up into Nate’s face. His beard had grown in overnight, darkening the thrust of his jaw. His hair was smudged this way and that. His eyes were open, lids low.“Good morning,” he said with a gravel voice.
“Hi.”
The reserve hadn’t left him. She still felt as though he was reining himself in. And as much as she still wanted to know what had happened, she wasn’t about to ask him again. She hated when people did that to her.
“Guess it’s time for breakfast.” She shifted upright, swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and felt the cool pine boards under her feet. “It’s going to be a busy week for us. We’ve got a whole family arriving today and…”
She chattered on, her voice sounding false to her own ears. But then that tended to be the end result when you were talking about one thing and thinking about another.
Did last night really happen? Was there actually a time they had been so close? Yeah, but only physically and that was the easiest way, wasn’t it? Which was why people had one-night stands. No strings, but just enough intimacy to remind you that you could in fact relate to another human being.
“Frankie?”
She stopped mid-sentence.
“Last night ended because—” He rubbed his temples. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
So he said.
“It’s all right. Really. Probably for the best, too.” She walked over to the door. “See you downstairs.”
His eyes bored into hers. “Yeah. Downstairs.”
But they didn’t spend much time together that morning. He was busy at the stove, she was working in her office. But at least on the few occasions she passed through the kitchen, he looked up, met her eyes and nodded.
She was back at her desk, reviewing with satisfaction the way the dinner reservations were getting tight, when the phone rang.
“Is Nate there?” It was a deep male voice. Hint of an accent she couldn’t quite place.
“Yes. Who may I ask is calling?” She blurted out the question on reflex, but she was really interested in the answer.
“Spike.” The man’s tone suggested impatience.
And considering the guy was named after a piece of hardware, she put two and two together and decided he probably wasn’t into small talk.
“Hold on.”
She called into the kitchen and Nate came right away, wiping his hands on the white apron he’d tied around his lean hips. She tried to keep her eyes from bouncing to his wide chest, and failed. His T-shirt was navy blue and had a worn logo on it, but all she could really see was the way his muscles had looked the night before, shifting under his skin as he’d held himself over her body while kissing her br**sts.
Frankie got to her feet, wondering if he’d want privacy. Although even if he didn’t, she needed a little air.
“Stay,” he said as he picked up the phone. She sank back into her chair. “What’s up? Where? Yeah, I know the place. When are you seeing it? How much they want for it?”
A couple of uh-uh’s and another yeah followed. He hung up the phone, thanked her for getting him and left.
Frankie looked out at the lake, thinking that the reminder was a good one. Nate was a short timer at White Caps. As soon as Labor Day came, he was going back to the city to find his destiny as the next Bobby Flay. And one day, a few years from now, she was going to crack open a magazine and read about the new, hit restaurant in New York City. There’d be a picture of him and she’d stare at it for a while, thinking what might have been if they’d made love.
