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Her sadness evoked a feeling in me I thought had died a long time ago. I didn’t give a damn about anyone except my family. My mother. My brother and sister. They were all I had and were the only people who gave a damn about me. I thought I didn’t give a damn aboutherbeyond the fact that I wanted to fuck her into next week.
But that noise she made proved me wrong.
Slowly, I moved leaden feet into the dim light that surrounded her. With the increasing brightness, my mask rose.
“Noemi.”
Her name spilled from my lips as I approached her.
“Hmmmm?” she answered, not even turning her head.
I’m not a schmoozer. I know of no way to be but blunt and direct, but I couldn’t say what came to my mind.
“It’s cold out. Shouldn’t you be inside?” I was glad she wasn’t. I had an opportunity that may never present itself again. If she were inside, I would never have heard her song. My defenses would have been firmly in place. Temptation held at bay for another night.
I moved closer to her, fully emerging from the shadows so she could see me. Her usual reaction to my presence was to straighten up, smile, and move away. The tell-tale hint of a blush usually appeared letting me know that if I forced the issue, I could have her. I wanted her and Icouldhave her.
But tonight, she flicked a quick glance my way, then closed her eyes again, a small smile escaping her lips. “I needed to cool off,” she whispered. “Besides, I like it out here. It’s stuffy in there.”
No, she wasn’t drunk, but she was definitely relaxed.
“Why aren’t you in there?” She jerked her head towards the doorway. “They were looking for you. Hoping you’d join us for dinner.”
“Maybe I like the people out here better, too.”
“That’s not what I said,” she laughed softly, swinging around the pillar to face me. She looked down at the floor then peaked up at me through her lashes. “But it’s close enough.”
I sucked in the last sane breath I would take that evening. Throwing back the last of my scotch, I set the glass on one of the small tables around the pool and closed the distance between us.
“Where were you?” she asked as I leaned next to her, propping one hand on the column beside her head.
“My office,” I answered.
A lock of her hair fell into her eye. She blew at it, but it didn’t move. I could have told myself I was just helping her out by moving it, but I was never one to miss the right opportunity. With my index finger, I gently pushed the dark curl behind her ear.
“I liked it where it was,” I murmured. I liked it free and unfettered, hanging over her forehead as if I’d just finished fucking her.
“Give it a few minutes.” She grinned. “It’ll fall again, and you can push it around all you want. So, you’ve been home all this time?”
I nodded as my finger left the curl and trailed along the edge of her jaw. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes.
“Why were you hiding?” she whispered, her eyes still closed. She turned her head allowing my finger to continue its journey along the curve of her chin.
“Why are you asking so many questions?” I growled.
Her eyes flew open and her body tensed. “Why are you always so angry with me? Maybe I ask you questions because that’s the only way I can get you to talk to me.”
“I talk to you.” That could be argued. I said more to her than I did most people, but apparently, she didn’t know me well enough to know that.
“No, you don’t,” she snapped. “You say hello. You bark at me. You give me orders. I don’t think we’ve ever had a real conversation.”
Her anger amused me even if it was fueled by alcohol.
“We did once,” I reminded her. That night in the kitchen when I held her may have been brief but it counted as conversation. That exchange changed how I’d see her forever. “You’ve been back for less than forty-eight hours. Maybe you should give it some time.”
She rolled her eyes. “I gave it almost ten years.” Her teeth scored her lower lip as she bit down on it, realizing what she’d said.
“Too late,bambina. Your secret’s out,” I whispered, leaning my chin against her forehead. I would regret it in the morning, probably by the time I walked away from her tonight, but with that admission, I had to touch her. More than just a wisp of a touch. I needed to feel her warm breath against my skin. I needed the soft curve of her breasts pushing against my chest.
