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He said nothing, just played with her hair, his fingers stroking through the thick, wavy strands. His touch soothed her. Lulling her into some sort of false sense of security she knew was foolish to believe in.
She should tell him the truth. Admit she’d been the one who asked for the no-sex clause. But it didn’t matter now, right? They cared about each other. They might even be falling in love with each other. So no biggie.
“You’re tense,” he murmured. “You need to relax.”
How she wanted to. But it was difficult. Resisting him was futile, no matter how much her practical side said it was best. Her heart—and especially her body—told her otherwise.
Those big hands started to massage her shoulders, easing the tension from her muscles, and she burrowed in closer to him with an appreciative murmur. “That feels so good.”
“Just returning the favor from a few weeks ago.” The amusement—and warmth—in his voice was evident. “You’ve been working hard.”
“So have you.” She slipped her arms around him, and let her fingers drift down the smooth, muscled expanse of his back.
“I haven’t been around much. I had no idea you put so much into your job.”
She remained quiet, enjoying his hands on her, the sound of his voice. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips gentle, and tingles swept over her skin. Her eyes drifted closed, exhaustion settling over her.
God, she loved how he made her feel. Warm, safe, protected, cherished.
More than anything, she loved him.
…
Jared could lay like this forever and be perfectly content. His woman in his arms, her curvy body nestled close to his, her sweet scent surrounding him. He continued to rub her shoulders, pleased that the tension slowly eased from her body. Satisfaction rolled through him at the little murmurs that came from her with his every stroke, though he noticed they grew quieter and quieter as time went on.
He was becoming dependent on having Sheridan around, in his bed, in his life. Never before had he been content with having a woman spend the night and not actually do anything beyond sleep. He’d never allowed anyone to get so close.
Sexual attraction had brought them together. Forced circumstances had made them closer. If he didn’t know any better, he’d start to believe he was falling in love with her.
Holy. Hell.
His entire body frozen, he stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t believe he had it in him. Bringing a woman into his life, knowing how busy he was, knowing how selfish he could be, he’d never risked it. Figured it was pointless.
But the thought of not having Sheridan around scared the crap out of him. Did she feel the same? Was she happy to call him husband—for real? He’d been so proud of her earlier, watching her work, the look on her face when he entered her studio. He’d never forget her expression as long as he lived.
“Baby, you awake?” He smoothed his hand over her hair but she didn’t make a sound, didn’t move. Her breathing was deep and even, her body languid against his. She was asleep.
And he was quietly reeling.
He didn’t love her—did he? He’d never loved another woman, not even his mother, who he couldn’t remember since she’d ditched him when he was so young. Women were playthings. Women were fun and they smelled sweet and they tasted good and when he was done, he picked himself up, dusted himself off, and moved on to the next one.
So why didn’t he feel that way with Sheridan? Why did she make him want to do something, say something, to prove that he was worthy of her? She was just a woman. A beautiful, messy, perfect, flawed, sexy, sweet woman he couldn’t seem to get out of his system no matter how much he tried.
And Lord knew how he tried.
He should man up and tell her how he felt. Let her know she meant more to him than some temporary, pretend wife gig. That what they shared was real. At least for him.
No more running. No more hiding from his feelings. He knew in his gut she felt the same. He saw it in her eyes, felt it in her touch, tasted it in her kiss. She cared for him. If he was lucky enough, she might even love him.
Hopefully as much as he loved her.
Chapter Sixteen
Jared woke up first, the room still shrouded in darkness so he figured it was early. The clock had somehow been turned away from the bed and he was just too lazy to sit up and check.
So he didn’t.
“You awake?” he murmured as he slid his hands down the length of her body. Gathering the hem of her T-shirt, he tugged the fabric upward, desperate to feel her bare skin.
