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“Don’t make me remind you whose idea this was in the first place.”
With a disgusted snort he sat down on the bed beside her an
d stole his pillow back. Setting it behind him, he stretched out his long legs and crossed his ankles.
“Made your bed, now lie in it? I suppose that’s what you’re referring to.”
Despite his relaxed pose, there was tension around his eyes and mouth. He looked tired, and she wished she had the courage to reach out and soothe him, to pull him down beside her and encourage him to sleep.
“Something like that. I hope you don’t plan on sleeping on that couch every night. If you got caught it would ruin your plan.”
“I didn’t realize you were so eager to have me in your bed.” He was trying to bait her.
“I think you mean our bed, don’t you?” she countered, enjoying the way his eyes widened at her bold feint.
“Remind me not to play word games with you in the future.”
“Does that include Scrabble?” she teased, noticing that the tension flowed out of him immediately. Was it possible she learned enough about his temperament and moods in such a short time that she could affect them? It was true that she felt a connection between them, but she had put it down to their shared subterfuge. Could it be something different? Something more?
“That definitely includes Scrabble.” He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “Are you interested in getting up for coffee or do you want to laze in bed a while longer?”
Instantly they were back to that dangerous dance of desire. Caroline felt the air thicken between them. As if they were caught in a slow-motion film, each beat of her heart seemed to highlight and define what her body craved. It was barely five-thirty. No one would expect them to be up and about for hours. They were supposed to be an engaged couple. There would be no need for explanations.
“I’m ready for coffee,” she answered, her courage failing. She slid off the bed. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Are you going to let me watch you this time?”
His gaze leisurely toured her body in the peach silk. Caroline felt her nipples harden beneath his regard. If there had been a languorous pulse in her loins before, it now became an insistent throb.
A pillow was in her hand and arcing toward his face before she gave it a second thought. She heard his laughter as she raced toward the bathroom, aware that all her clothes were in the bedroom. If he lingered, he would indeed get a chance for revenge. She stepped into the shower with a small smile.
By the time she had finished drying her hair, she was feeling brave enough to return to the bedroom. An empty room greeted her and Caroline sighed in a blend of relief and regret. She quickly dressed in tan slacks and a high-necked cream sweater and slipped her feet into soft leather loafers.
Simon was in the kitchen, sipping coffee by the French door that led out to the terrace and the pool beyond. He turned at her approach.
“I didn’t know how you took your coffee,” he said, handing her a cup and gesturing to the cream and sugar containers on the counter. “Otherwise I would have brought a cup upstairs to you.”
And caught her dressing, Caroline thought, half wishing he had. “I take it black.”
“So do I. Another thing we should have known about each other.”
“It takes a long time to get to know someone, Simon. We’ve only had a few days.”
“It seems like I’ve known you forever.” He dusted her cheek with his thumb. “Why is that?”
The caress mesmerized her. She captured the moment so she could replay it later. “Some people are like that. It’s as if they’ve known each other in another place and time.”
What she should have said was that he didn’t know her at all. But was that true? Since arriving in Savannah he seemed tuned in to her thoughts and moods, reading her as if he’d had a lifetime of experience.
Before Simon came up with a response, his mother swept into the room and stopped dead at the sight of them.
“Goodness. Are you two up already up? I thought for sure you’d still be in bed.”
Chapter Seven
“No, we can’t use ivory napkins,” Elizabeth said into her phone, swerving around a slow moving truck as she checked her handheld for a phone number. “Why? Because the theme is black and white, not black and ivory.” She rolled her eyes in Caroline’s direction and shook her head.
Right after breakfast, Elizabeth had commandeered Caroline, overriding Simon’s protests that he’d already made plans for the day. Apparently Simon’s mother intended to run some last-minute errands for that night’s party before joining a few friends for lunch. Elizabeth had been rather vague as to why she wanted Caroline along, but here she was, wearing one of the dresses Simon had bought her for just such an occasion and clinging to the passenger door handle as the Historic District streaked past her window at an alarming rate.
