“I haven't breathed in several years either. It's funny what you notice when you stop for a minute, isn't it?”
“Yeah,” she said, feeling an odd warmth suffuse her as she thought again of Michael changing the baby.
“Of course part of your problem is that you've been afraid I would try to get in your pants,” Michael added, jerking her out of her gooey moment. “The other part of your problem is you were afraid of wanting me to get in your pants.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped at his arched brow. “I have reasons for not wanting to get pregnant.”
He nodded. “Good reasons.” He covered her hand with his and laced his fingers through hers. The gesture reminded her of how their bodies had twined together last night, and his hand wrapped around hers felt more intimate than it should have. “Don't worry, Katie Priss. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do.”
That was the problem. She wanted to hold him and be held by him. She wanted to feel him inside her again. She wanted, but she shouldn't. There was no future to it and there shouldn't be. It would only muddy the waters and she was already swimming upstream.
An hour later, they entered the lovely room at Laralyn's bed and breakfast. Amid the elegant Queen Anne furniture, the canopied bed took center stage. Fresh fruit and wine with two glasses sat on a bedside table in silent invitation. Katie cast a questioning glance at Michael.
He shook his head. “I didn't order it. It came with the room.”
“Okay,” she said, her awareness of him heightened with each passing second. She ducked into the bathroom to draw a quick breath of air and calm herself. A clawfoot porcelain tub big enough for two sat on a gleaming tile floor. Fresh flowers and toiletries graced a small brass table beside the pedestal sink. She felt Michael move behind her and stiffened.
“Did I tell you this was the only room they had left?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, staring at that big tub and trying not to visualize Michael and her in it.
“Did I tell you it's the honeymoon suite?”
The realization nearly knocked her over. No wonder the room was so romantic. It was designed for couples determined to consummate their wedding vows. Most of them, repeatedly, she thought and chuckled to cover her awkwardness. “Figures,” she said and returned to the room.
“Well since it's here, do you want some wine?”
She nodded. “Might as well, thanks.”
He poured the wine and gave her a glass and she couldn't help wondering how Michael would act on a real honeymoon night. The fact that she was even thinking such a thing bothered her so much she gulped down the wine.
“Thirsty, huh?”
“Yes. Do you mind if I take a quick bath?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Thanks,” she said, wondering if she should drink a second glass to take the edge oft her nervousness. Katie walked into the bathroom and scowled at herself. There was no reason for her nervousness. The only thing she was going to do in that bed was go to sleep.
After she took her bath, she pulled on a long T-shirt. Anti-sex clothing, she assured herself and went into the bedroom. Michael had ditched his jeans and shirt and was reclining on the bed in a pair of athletic shorts. Her gaze moved over his tousled dark hair and dark magnetic eyes down to his broad shoulders and muscular frame. Her heart tripped at the look in his eyes as he rose on one elbow. He reached behind him and pulled something out of the bedside table.
“I just want you to know that I'm ready if you decide you want to be with me again,” he said, and put two boxes of condoms on the bed. “It doesn't have to be tonight.”
Katie stared at the condoms and worked her mouth, but no sound came out. She gulped. “Isn't that a lot?”
“Enough to get started,” he said and looked as if he wanted to do a lot more than just get started with her.
Her skin heated and her heart hammered against her rib cage. She cleared her throat. “I'll-um-I'll keep that in mind.”
“You do that,” he said and put the boxes back in the drawer. He rose from the bed and walked toward her and her heart raced even faster. If he kissed her, she didn't know what she would do. Could she possibly say no to him?
He walked past her so that she caught a draft of his scent. “My turn in the bathroom. Sweet dreams, Katie Priss.”
He disappeared into the bathroom and Katie stared at the drawer that held
all
those condoms. Waiting until she heard the water running, she walked over to the table and opened it. Good Lord, he couldn't possibly want to…that many times. Could he?
Sliding a gaze at the bathroom door, she then looked back into the drawer and opened one of the boxes. She wouldn't use it, she told herself wouldn't need it. Michael wouldn't force her and she certainly wouldn't initiate. Still, she couldn't forget what had happened last night.
She tore one of the packets loose and carefully replaced the others back in the box and closed the drawer. She took the condom and put it in her little purse and quickly slipped into bed. It was just in case of emergency.
“
God created passion. Denying passion will only make you cranky.
”
—S
UNNY
C
OLLINS'S WISDOM
J
ust in case of emergency, she chanted.
She wasn't dying to explore Michael's body and mind more thoroughly. The thought of feeling his hands all over her didn't make her warm as toast, she told herself, but kicked off the bedspread. She absolutely wasn't picturing his naked body in that oversized tub…where she could be right now if she chose.
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Katie heard her mother's voice from the hereafter.
Stop fooling yourself. You want him and if you would stop denying your womanhood, you could have him tonight. All night.
Groaning, Katie pulled the sheet over her head to hide from her crazy feelings. She hadn't heard her mother's voice in days and she wasn't delighted with Sunny's reappearance in her brain.
Womanhood?
Katie rolled her eyes. That sounded like Sunny's excuse to give in to her hormones.
Call it what you want, but—
The bathroom door opened and Michael walked into the room. If her mother was still talking, Katie couldn't hear her for the beating of her heart. She heard Michael's footsteps on the floor and his heavy sigh. When she felt the mattress dip under his weight, she held her breath. She heard him click off the lamp by the bed, then slide under the covers. He sighed again and she willed her heart to stop beating so loudly. Surely he could hear it.
He rolled first one way, then another. Couldn't get comfortable, she thought. Neither could she. She could feel his frustration even from beneath the covers.
She could take care of that frustration.
The wicked thought slid into her brain like smoke. And she couldn't blame her mother for this one. She inhaled a shallow breath and swallowed a groan. She needed to get a grip.
Michael moved closer. She felt his heat as he drew closer to her back. Her heartbeat started to hop and skip. He moved closer and suddenly he was pulling her back against him. Her bottom was cradled into his crotch and there was no mistaking his arousal. She supposed she should tell him to stop and pull away. Her body and vocal cords called a mutiny.
He lifted her shirt and she stopped breathing. He curled one of his big hands around her waist to her belly and held her there for several seconds when she should have been scrambling out of the bed. He pulled the sheet from her head and tucked it under her chin, then returned his hand to her belly.
“It's okay,” he rumbled in a sexy voice next to her ear. “Just go to sleep.”
She stared bug-eyed into the darkness. “But you're—you're—” She couldn't finish it.
“Hard,” he said for her. “I get that way a lot when I'm around you. Just go to sleep, Katie Priss.”
Never. Not in a million years.
Even though she'd kept herself relentlessly busy all day, she felt awake enough to paint the entire bridal suite and bathroom. There was no way she would fall asleep with Michael wrapped around her like a sexy cocoon. No way.
But five minutes later, she fell asleep.
The following morning, Katie awakened curled against Michael. Bothered by the fact that she hadn't instinctively moved away from him during the night, she sprang out of bed, grabbed her duffel bag, and dashed to the bathroom before he could say anything.
Or before she gave in to the temptation to wave one of those condoms like a flag of surrender and jump on him. She repeatedly splashed her face with cold water and considered banging her head against the wall to knock some sense into it. Knowing he would want to get on the road to Wilhemina, Katie quickly washed up and brushed her hair. She debated putting on eye shadow for ninety seconds, then rejected the idea. She was not going to try to seduce him.
She heard her mother humming in the background of her mind and stuck out her tongue at her reflection in the mirror. She dressed and left the bathroom. Michael stood in the middle of the bedroom wearing only a pair of shorts slung low over his lean hips.
Katie's mouth went bone dry at the sight of his near nakedness. She swallowed a moan. The morning wasn't starting out well. Determined to ditch her crazy conflicting feelings, she pasted a smile on her face. “Good morning. I'm ready when you are.”
Michael met her gaze with a gleam of sexual intensity that stabbed right past her pretense. “Ready when I am,” he echoed. “That could mean a lot of things.”
“I'm ready to go,” she said quickly. “To go find Wilhemina.”
“Okay, let me shave. It won't take long.”
Can I watch?
She bit her tongue to keep from asking the terrible question. As soon as he closed the door to the bathroom, she scowled at herself. She couldn't even blame her randy mother for these thoughts.
She
was producing them all on her own with no assistance. She wondered what, besides Michael, was making her act this way. Maybe it was Texas.
They left within twenty-five minutes after grabbing toast and coffee in the kitchen of the bed and breakfast. As soon as they got out of town, Michael turned on the radio, relieving Katie of the necessity to make conversation. The only problem was that he chose a smoky, sexy jazz station that played songs that made her think of hot skin and that hot shower they'd shared. She lowered her window, but the temperature was already climbing into the eighties.
“Too warm?” he asked, reaching to adjust the thermostat.
“I just wanted some air.”
When they reached Calvert County, Michael paid a visit to the car repair shop and took the indirect route. He asked the shop owner about the Cadillac he'd seen in the lot a couple of days ago. He wanted to know who the owner was because he was interested in buying. The helpful shop owner said the Cadillac was brought in by a lady friend visiting Douglas McGinley.
Within fifteen minutes of leaving the car repair shop, Michael had hooked up to the Internet via his cell phone and downloaded a surprising amount of information on Douglas, most importantly where he lived.
“Let me talk to Wilhemina,” Katie said to Michael as they turned down a narrow country road.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I think she might respond better to me.”
“Why? She pulled the wool over your eyes just like she did me.”
Katie felt a twinge of irritation. “Well, what were you planning on doing? Showing up and saying, Time to go?”
He shrugged. “Not much else to say,” he said as they pulled within sight of a farmhouse with a truck parked out front. “How do you think Ivan would react to the prospect of Wilhemina hooking up with a hog farmer who drives a Ford with a gun rack?”
Her stomach knotted. “Not well.”
“Not well,” Michael said and chuckled. “Try, Katie and Michael, you're fired and I will not rest until I ruin you.”
She felt her stomach turn. “He wouldn't waste his time ruining us,” she said. “I don't think.” She didn't want to think it. “But Wilhemina may not have hooked up with Douglas. She may be hurt and he's just letting her stay here.”
“Or not.”
“Maybe he's ugly.”
“Or not.”
She sighed. “Maybe he's gay.”
Michael shot her a look full of doubt. “Or not. She has stayed here for several days without trying to call anyone for help. She is looking for her cowboy knight.”
“I don't think we should jump to conclusions.”
“I agree. We'll see soon enough,” he said as he pulled into the driveway. They got out of the car and walked to the front porch. Michael rang the doorbell and they waited. No answer He repeated, then banged on the door. Still no answer.
He sighed and glanced around “Let's walk down this path and check things out.”
After a short walk, Katie saw a barn in the not-too-far distance. She and Michael picked up the pace. Drawing closer, she heard laughter.
“Stop that,” Wilhemina said, giggling. “You're distracting me. We've got to find Chantal. This is the third time she's gotten out of the house.”
Katie strained to hear the low murmur of a masculine voice. She heard an unintelligible feminine moan and tripped over a stone in the path. Michael slipped his arm out to steady her.
“That sounds like Wilhemina,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said in a noncommittal tone, while his eyes said
I told you so.
“Ohhhh, Douglas, let's do it in the barn again,” Wilhemina said. “Ohhh, you feel so good. I love it when you—”
Katie covered her ears.
Filled with dread, she stopped walking abruptly and looked up at Michael. “I don't think Douglas is gay,” she whispered. “What do we do?”
“Haven't you heard of coitus interruptus? They provide the coitus. We provide the interruptus,” he said grimly, pulling her along.
“I'm not sure I want to see this,” Katie said, wondering if she should cover her eyes.
“Call out her name,” Michael told her.
“Me? Why me?”
“You said you wanted to talk to her.”
“Yes, but not when she's in the middle of—”
“Okay. Don't say I didn't give you your chance. Wilhemina,” he yelled.