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“Zane,” Lesley whispered, her hand stilling his. This was happening too fast and she needed a clear head.
“Shh,” he whispered, and bent forward and buried his face in the gentle slope of her neck, kissing her there. An electrical jolt of sensation shot through Lesley. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. The emptiness inside her began to ache. The desire she felt was physical as well as mental. All these months, all these years she’d been telling herself that she was perfectly content without a man in her life. She had her career, and wonderful friends. She found satisfaction in her outside interests.
Within the space of one evening Zane had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d been kidding herself. The longing for a husband and eventually children went soul deep and could no longer be denied.
Zane made a low rough sound as he sought her mouth once more in a tumultuous kiss that left them both breathless. Lesley wasn’t sure how much more of this foreplay either of them could take without giving in to their physical needs. The question had just formed in her mind when the electricity returned. The lamp snapped back on, the force of the light momentarily blinding her.
Zane froze, then swore quietly under his breath. When he eased away from her, Lesley could tell how hard he battled to control his body and his frustration.
“Zane…”
He silenced her with a gentle kiss. “A little reality is what we both needed just then. The timing couldn’t have been better.”
“I want you.” It embarrassed her to be so bold. Seconds earlier she’d been the one to put a stop to what was happening and now she was almost begging him to make love to her.
“No.” His response was flat and hard. “We barely know each other.”
“I know enough.”
“No,” he said again with the same degree of firmness. “You don’t know me, and once you do, I can guarantee you won’t like the man I am.”
Lesley objection was immediate. “I’m crazy about you already. There’s something between us, Zane. Don’t try to deny it. I felt it the first time we met. You did, too. I realize it sounds crazy, but it’s true. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. You haven’t stopped thinking about me, either. Admit it.” She was desperate to have him say the words. When he didn’t answer her right away, she said it again, louder this time. “Admit it!”
“Yes,” he said forcefully. “But that changes nothing. You’re the architect I hired for a remodeling job. I didn’t bring you here to satisfy my baser needs. Not when that kind of thing can be so easily bought elsewhere.”
Lesley gasped at the hard edge to his words. She fumbled in her efforts to close the overly large robe.
“For the love of heaven, Lesley, go back upstairs.”
She leapt away from him as if someone had pried her with a cattle prod. Certain now that her cheeks had heated to a deep fire engine red, she pressed her hands against her stomach, afraid she might be sick.
“Is it necessary to insult me?” she asked in a whisper.
His face hardened. “Go upstairs. Please.”
“We’re going to talk about this in the morning,” she insisted, pivoting on her heel. By then she would have reasoned everything out and made sense of what was happening.
“Good night, Lesley.”
He couldn’t wait to be rid of her, but it wasn’t because he didn’t want her. He hadn’t fooled her by claiming another woman would serve him just as well. He wanted her and it was eating him alive. Furthermore, he seemed to think that once she left the room, his need would slowly dissipate. But he was wrong. Zane wouldn’t be able to forget her, not after what had passed between them. He wouldn’t be able to forget her any more than she would him.
Upstairs and alone once again, Lesley was convinced she wouldn’t be able to return to sleep, but time proved her wrong. Her dreams were filled with Zane.
She woke at eight, feeling refreshed and excited. Lingering in bed, she kept her eyes closed as she held on to the last dredges of her dreams, which had been wonderful.
She pictured herself on the front lawn with Zane and two small children. The four of them appeared deliriously happy.
Had she shared her fantasy with a counselor, Lesley was sure the mental-health professional would suggest she was a candidate for therapy. She’d seen Zane all of two times, and already her mind had conjured up marriage and two children. Talk about projecting one’s desires into dreams!
After she’d dressed, Lesley came down the stairs and found Mrs. Applegate in the kitchen.
“Good morning, dearie,” the housekeeper greeted brightly. “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a log,” Lesley confessed as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“What would you like for breakfast?”
“Orange juice and toast,” Lesley answered absently. “Where’s Zane?” She hadn’t seen him on her way down the stairs, not that she expected him to be waiting for her, but she’d hoped.
