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“Hearts?”
Oh, she was testing his sanity tonight. What would she do if he hauled her into his arms and kissed her senseless? Simon blew out a harsh breath and reminded himself that she was off-limits.
“Come on. Let’s go inside.”
He escorted her into the foyer and gestured for her to precede him up the stairs. Dim light guided them to the second floor. The house’s stillness pressed in on Simon, recalling other nights when he’d sneaked home late after a party.
At the door to the bedroom he hesitated, abruptly uncertain what would happen if he stepped across the threshold. He’d proposed a walk to defuse the sexual tension building between them. Instead, she’d engaged his emotions and stormed his defenses. For a man accustomed to being in charge he didn’t appreciate how easily she’d turned his awareness upside down.
“You know,” he muttered, backing away before he did something stupid like kiss her. “I think I’m going to head downstairs and check some emails.”
Was that relief on her face? The hall was too dark to tell. He would have turned and left her then, but her hand on his arm stopped him. Before he could wonder what she was about, she lifted on tiptoes and brushed her soft lips against his cheek. He caught her just above the elbows and held her off balance, her upper body resting against him. Her soft breasts flattened against his chest with intoxicating results. She relaxed, her body leaning into his, and lingered cheek to cheek to whisper in his ear.
“Thank you for a wonderful couple of days.”
His whispered back, “Thank you for helping me out.”
He felt more than saw her smile as he let go of her arms. Simon kept perfectly still until she disappeared through the bedroom door and closed it behind her. The last two days had been full of surprises, not the least of which was the incredible woman he had just let slip through his fingers.
Tormented by thoughts of lingerie-clad Caroline, Simon descended to the first floor and headed to his father’s study, where he planned to work until he was too tired to act on the impulses twisting his body into one big tangle of need. Something that promised to take all night.
* * *
Caroline came awake at the quiet snick of the door latch. In the predawn light only the outline of the furniture was visible. She lay on her side, her back to the door, facing the middle of the bed, one arm extended into the empty space beside her. The covers appeared undisturbed. Apparently Simon had slept elsewhere.
She closed her eyes as a floorboard squeaked. He was making an effort to move quietly, but she tracked his progress around the room. When the door to the bathroom closed, she opened her eyes once more. Why hadn’t he come to bed last night? Was it in consideration of her? That was sweet, but if his family caught him spending the night downstairs it would raise questions.
At the sound of water running in the shower, she drew her hand back across the soft sheets. Had she reached for him in the night? After he’d left her at the door, she’d dressed in one of her nightgowns. A sexy, delicious nightgown she’d purchased before she knew they would be sharing a room. The peach silk had called to her. Its seductive voice made resisting it impossible. She’d never owned anything so decadent and never expected anyone would see her in it.
Tucking her hand beneath her cheek, she recalled the heat in Simon’s eyes when he had found her in his bed. Last night, those same memories had kept her sleepless for hours, wondering if he would act on that attraction. At two, she’d given up waiting for him. Surely no man intending to seduce a woman would leave her cooling her heels for over two hours.
The same butterflies that had attacked her stomach last night returned. She bent her knees and curved her body around the anxious flutters while she waited for Simon to emerge from the bathroom.
The water ran for a long time. An even longer interval of silence tightened Caroline’s muscles into humming knots of wary anticipation. But when the door opened at last, it proved well worth the wait.
Simon stood framed in the doorway for a moment, clad in nothing more than a towel. The day had crept toward dawn during his occupation of the bathroom and the light from the window highlighted his lean, athletic body with light and shadow. Caroline watched him from beneath her lashes, confident that he would not know she was awake. He spared a quick glance toward the bed before walking to the wardrobe that held their clothes. Caroline watched as he selected what he would wear that day, then almost gasped aloud as the towel dropped to the floor.
The pure artistry of his body could have been cast in marble. His shoulders were wide, without the bulk of a body builder, and tapered down to a narrow waist and flawless, tight buttocks. His thighs were long and lean, but strongly defined. Hard muscles flexed and flowed as he opened a dresser drawer and selected a pair of underwear.
“You’re awake, aren’t you?”
His voice cut through the deafening thunder of blood through her veins. It seemed difficult to draw breath into her lungs. Had she made some noise that alerted him that she was watching? She prayed it hadn’t been a moan.
“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She could hear his resigned sigh all the way across the large room.
He stepped into his underwear and pulled them up to hide his gorgeous derriere. Slacks and a pale blue shirt followed in quick succession before he turned to regard her over his shoulder. She tugged his unused pillow beneath her head and bent her knees to push herself a little higher. Her gaze never left him.
“Where did you sleep last night?” she quizzed, proud that she sounded so unaffected by the sucker punch of his flawless physique.
“There’s a couch in my father’s study.”
She swept her hand over the mattress beside her. “You could have come back here.”
He turned his whole body toward her then and she saw the state of his arousal. “You seem to have a distinct effect on me,” he said roughly. “How long were you watching?”
“Since you came out of the bathroom.” Although she controlled her smile, she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.
“Do you think this is funny?” He picked up the towel and threw it at her. Plush and damp, it didn’t make a good missile and fell short of the mark, landing on her legs rather than in her face, where she believed he’d aimed. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, and you could tempt a saint.”
