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“Don’t most people have a book on the coffee table or a cup of cold tea discarded somewhere? Maybe a jacket slung over the back of a chair?” There’s that nervous laugh again. “You know, normal people things. I bet if we sent the Mars Rover through here it would come back reporting no signs of life.”
I roll my eyes. “Excuse me for not living in a pigsty. Do you want to stay here or not?”
“Sure, thank you.” She nods. “I, uh...”
“Spit it out.”
“I was about to have a shower. I smell like pizza and I really don’t want to ruin that pretty white couch.”
Christ. How am I supposed to function with the thought of her naked in my shower? What the hell did I do wrong to be saddled with this temptation?
I clear my throat. “Of course. I’ll get you some towels.”
“I guess I already know where the bathroom is.” She bites her lip again. “When I saw into—”
“I know.”
The vision of her on her balcony, her hand down the front of those ridiculous pink undies, is etched into my memory in permanent ink. A fleeting thought dashes through my brain—I wonder what colour she’s wearing right now. My muscles are wooden as I head to the linen cupboard and pull out some fresh towels.
“Here.” I shove them toward her, averting my eyes.
“They’re white. What a surprise,” she teases softly.
I ignore the dig. “I’ll leave a blanket and some pillows on the couch when you’re done.”
And then I will make sure I am in my bedroom with the door closed so that I don’t have any more sexy images of her to add to my growing collection.
Instead of heading straight to my room, I decide to pour myself a drink. I reason that it’ll help me sleep. Okay, fine. Seems legit. But then I walk to my balcony and pull the sliding glass door open.
The air outside is heavy, warning of a late-spring storm. It’s cool but not cold, the scent of grass and flowers and lemons wafting up from the big garden below. Although I don’t spend much time at home, I enjoy the view of the property, which is far greener and more lush than most places around here. There’s a communal vegetable patch and a barbeque area and a big indoor swimming pool surrounded by glass.
I sip my drink, listening to the sound of water running in my bathroom. My throat is tight, but the drink relaxes me. I’m still stinging from my brother’s assessment earlier today—mostly because I know he’s right. Every decision I make, everything I do, is for Zoe. It’s part of the reason I don’t do casual dating, because my niece gets attached to people easily, and she’s desperate for a mother figure. The first time it happened was about six months after Monique left. I brought a woman to a barbeque and Zoe was smitten. A month later we were over, but Zoe asked about her constantly.
It’s exactly why Gabe hasn’t dated since the split. We might not have long with Zoe—and neither of us wants to waste that time.
I swish my drink around in the heavy glass. It clings a little to the edges, glowing like an ember in the glittering city lights. I’ve not once regretted sacrificing my old job, my old ways of partying and dating and hookups. The past few years have changed me. I’ve thrown everything into my company, I’ve poured all my money into hiring the best and brightest medical researchers.
What if it’s not enough?
It’s the thought that keeps me awake at night and no matter how hard I try to shove it away, it haunts me.
“Mr. Suit?” Blondie’s husky voice calls me back to the present, luring me with the perfect way to forget about my worries. “I don’t suppose I could borrow a T-shirt to sleep in.”
When I turn, she’s standing in the door of the bathroom, backlit so the edges of her hair glow like they’ve been touched by God. She’s an angel. Surreal and so perfect I wonder if it’s all a figment of my imagination. It’s the first time I’ve seen her without makeup—well, there are slight traces of it around her eyes. But otherwise she’s fresh-faced, her full lips bare and parted, her pale eyes wide.
I swallow and down the rest of my drink. “Sure.”
It takes every bit of willpower to walk into my bedroom, instead of what I want to do—which is tug at the towel until it slips from her body. But as I stand at my chest of drawers, hunting out a T-shirt, I feel her presence behind me. It’s like flames licking at my back.
“Aren’t you even a little bit tempted?” she asks. There’s a curiosity to her voice, and I’m certain she’s never been short on men finding her attractive. Maybe my reasons don’t make sense to anyone else—hell, I’m not even sure they make sense to me anymore.
What if your work isn’t enough?
Today has worn me out. The stress of dealing with my idiot cousin and the wedding, and waiting impatiently for progress on our trials and then seeing Zoe and my brother today, seeing just how in pain he is...
I reach down deep for the strength I need, but I’m empty.
“Blondie,tempteddoesn’t even begin to cover it.” I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have called the other night if I wasn’t tempted out of my fucking mind.”
