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“And?”
Her heart tripped—in a white buttoned shirt, without a belt and in his black slacks, Landon looked rumpled, ruffled, gorgeous. “And…and, and I think they’re conspiring against us.”
“In what sense?”
Bethany watched wide-eyed as he began to unbutton his shirt, then couldn’t remember what she planned to say. When she did, she realized she sounded ridiculous. As if there was the remote possibility that either of them would fall, which there wasn’t. No matter how much matchmaking. Was th
ere? “Oh, forget it. How was your day?”
“Tiring.” And in that instant, a thought teased her: What if he were really my husband? What if he’d come home from work and David would jump on him like his dogs did and he’d smile and rumple his hair…
Landon produced something from his pockets. “Here. I brought you something.”
She stared in interest down at a book. It was a cookbook, and even better, it was one she’d never read before. Her chest squeezed as she stroked her fingers along the glossy surface. It was such a nice gesture on his part. A gesture which told her he didn’t mind finding his kitchen in a mess while she explored new recipes. And which told her, in a way, that at least a couple of minutes today, he’d thought about her, too. “Thank you, I don’t know what to say. Thanks from me and…thanks from Catering, Canapés and Curry.”
“Nice name. I’m guessing you came up with it since Kate had failed to find one for over a year?”
She nodded, still so touched she felt stroked all over.
Landon crossed the room toward her, and Beth nervously licked her lips when he raised one bronzed big hand to cup her cheek. His thumb, gentle and warm, wiped a smudge of dirt off the tip of her nose. “You went shooting today?”
That touch alone felt like an electric current that started in her nose and ended with a jolt in Beth’s toes. “Y-yes. I love it. I always feel so…powerful.”
Her cheeks flamed as he disappeared into his bathroom, turned on the shower, then came back out and pulled his unbuttoned shirt out of his pants. Her gaze felt glued to his, she couldn’t seem to pull free of his quiet stare.
“Your mother insinuated that my mom and she think…They’re trying to get us together. They’re crazy. A marriage based on nothing but common hatred,” she said.
He nodded indulgently, all bronzed skin and gleaming muscles as he shrugged off the garment, and his hands went to his pants. Beth watched, wide-eyed, as he began to unzip. Her breasts tingled. A prick of awareness danced across her skin.
“What else do we have in common other than Hector, I mean…” She trailed off when he stripped to his underwear. Her lungs closed off all air.
He stood before her for a moment, as sexy and comfortable in his skin as an underwear model, while a prominent bulge pushed against the stark white cotton of his trunks. Even down there, Landon Gage was bigger than Hector.
He was more man, more everything.
In other words, too much for Beth.
She became aware of how fast her chest heaved when he gave her a sardonic smile. “Are you staying here and watching or are you letting me take a bath?”
Beth stumbled back a step, a trembling hand reaching for the doorknob. “I’m leaving.”
“Close the door, Beth.”
She turned to go, but then spun around. “Landon…”
He kicked off his trunks, his back to her, and when she saw his nakedness all of her blood seemed to rush to the center of her being, where it gathered into a burning pool of desire. Her breath left her completely, and the book slid from her fingers and landed with a thud on the floor.
Landon’s buttocks were so muscled, they clenched as he stepped out of his underwear—every small and large muscle of his body taut and rock-like under his skin. He glanced past his shoulder. “Yeah?”
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. But oh. Oooh. She’d been wondering for days, had been aching for a peek of him, she was so bad, and suddenly this was so embarrassing.
“I’m no good at this. Landon, I…” She clung to the door handle behind her, her knuckles white as she squeezed it for support. “I’m sorry about our wedding night. My life was shattered when I left him,” she hurriedly whispered, “and I know that I will be leaving you and I really want to…be prepared, you know? I guess I just worry if I make others believe it, a part of me will believe it, too, and I don’t want to, it’s not real. Nothing’s real to me but David.”
He reached into the bathroom for a towel, and wrapped it easily around his narrow hips. “But we expect nothing.” Even half covered she could hardly think. His chest was so beautiful, all of him making her mouth water, especially the smoldering proposal in his eyes. “I don’t expect anything from you, Beth, nor you from me, except to trample Hector. Neither of us is hoping the other will love us like we love or be with us forever.”
“But our mothers hope.”
He started forward. “Mothers will always hope.”
