Creative License (3 page)

“So you called me?”

“No. I had a lawyer friend look it up to confirm we were still married. We were so then I called.”

Lily laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“We have the happiest marriage of anyone I know. No fights, no power struggles.”

“No sex.”

Lily blushed. “I didn’t say it was perfect, just peaceful.”

“There’s more to life than peaceful.”

“And the opposite of peace is chaos. I’ll take the peace.”

“Chaos isn’t always a bad thing. From chaos came creation.” He smiled. “A little pandemonium adds spice.”

Lily cleared her throat. “So when do I meet her?”

“Mrs. P?”

“Yes.”

“Day after tomorrow. I thought you might want a day to get over the jet lag or the time change…or just relax. She invited us to brunch Saturday morning.”

“Why does she want to meet me at all? I have nothing to do with your work.”

Caleb shook his head. “She doesn’t know that, does she? And for that matter, neither do you. For all you know, you could have been my muse for the last three years.”

“Now, you’re teasing me.” He was, wasn’t he? A thrill of pleasure traced her spine. Could he have been thinking of her all this time? Did she appear in his fantasies as often as he starred in hers?
Stop. I’m an idiot. Don’t even go there.

His green eyes sparkled. “Am I?”

Lily smiled. Get back to business. “Well, I guess that leaves the rest of today and tomorrow to get our story straight.”

“Story?”

“Where did we meet? How did we fall in love? You know? That kind of thing.”

Caleb groaned. “Why not stick with the truth? We met in Vegas, married there and…” he trailed off, a frown creasing his brow as he met her eyes.

“No.” Lily shook her head. “Or wait! There are art galleries in Vegas, right? Maybe we could have met there.”

“Maybe she won’t ask.” He looked out the window and when he turned back, his green eyes were shielded. He sighed. “Just make up any scenario you want. I’ll go along with it.”

Lily stared at Caleb’s profile. What had upset him? She didn’t have a clue, but one thing she did realize; she didn’t know her husband at all. “Are you taking me to my hotel?”

Every muscle in Caleb’s body tensed. Lily pictured a deer caught in a car’s headlights.

“Um, no.”

“No? Where are we going? I’m a little tired.”

“I’m taking you to my place.”

“Why?”

Caleb paused. The bottom dropped out of Lily’s stomach. “Because you didn’t book a hotel reservation?”

“No. We don’t have much time together. And like you said, we need to get our story straight.”

Lily stared at Caleb’s earnest face. Could he afford a hotel? She hadn’t asked. He’d insisted on paying for the airfare and even booked the ticket, assuring her he’d take care of everything from his end. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings but if money was the issue, she could more than afford any hotel in San Francisco. She’d bet the Westin had vacancies.

Those green eyes softened and her misgivings crumbled. “Okay, fine. But that doesn’t mean we’re having sex.”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t ask you to, but it’s nice to know it’s on your mind.”

Lily turned back to the window to hide the burn of her cheeks. If he only knew.

Chapter Three

Caleb took the key out of his pocket and slid it in the doorknob. Lily stood beside him, her jaw clenched and spine straight, eyes focused ahead. Why was he so nervous?
You’re bringing your wife home, bud. Your rich wife who might turn her nose up at the hovel you call home sweet home.

He smiled. That wasn’t quite true. Or at least she wouldn’t be his wife for long. So what did it matter what she thought of his apartment? But it did. He couldn’t forget the look of horror on her face when she’d discovered the ring on her finger that morning in Vegas. She was old money. He didn’t have any, new or otherwise. Her dismay at the idea of telling Mrs. P they’d met and married in Vegas, which was the truth, was just another sign she didn’t consider him good enough for her. And maybe he wasn’t.

He glanced at her as he turned the key. Lily looked tired, but beautiful. Shadows crowded her pale brown eyes. It had been all he could do not to drape an arm around her in the cab, pull her close and rest her head on his shoulder. A surge of blood to regions south reminded him he needed to put a stop to that kind of thinking. Lily was here as a favor to him. He wasn’t going to make her feel uncomfortable in any way. Although with her around he might be the one spending more time uncomfortable, or taking more showers than usual to relieve a particular discomfort. It would be a long couple of days.

He opened the door and swung it wide. “Shouldn’t I carry you over the threshold or something?” Caleb’s cock throbbed at the thought of touching the silky skin on the back of her thighs, pressing her body to his chest. He wouldn’t just carry her over the threshold—he’d take her right to the bedroom.

“Smartass, I’ll walk, thank you.” Lily stepped into the angled hall and walked toward the living room.

She glanced left into his galley-style kitchen and he had to remind himself there wasn’t even a coffee cup in the sink. He’d cleaned the apartment top to bottom before he’d left for the studio that morning.

He looked around, trying to see his apartment through Lily’s eyes. A tan couch sat against one wall, the quilt his mother had made for him draped across one of the arms. The coffee table had seen better days but it was functional and the bowl of sea glass sent beams of blue and green across its surface. He winced, noticing not a single piece of artwork hung on the walls. He supposed that might be considered strange for an artist’s house, but he didn’t like to surround himself with his art and, though he admired many artists, he preferred the idea of the blank canvas.

She turned, a twinkle in those golden eyes. “No plasma screen? I thought all bachelors had at least a thirty-inch plasma. Isn’t it in the handbook?”

He glanced toward the old tube TV on its stand next to his philodendron and scratched his head. “I guess starving artists are the exception. I don’t watch much TV anyway.”

“You don’t look starving to me.”

The appreciation in Lily’s eyes hit him like a ton of bricks. It was all he could do not to march across the living room and take her in his arms, sweep her up and carry her to the bedroom.
Stop it, Caleb. Isn’t that what got you into this mess to begin with?
He smiled. “I manage.”

“So…where do I sleep?”

Oh, oh, here is where it got tricky. “In the bedroom.” He took her suitcase into the bedroom and set it down on the bed.

“And where will you sleep?” she asked, following him in.

Caleb took a deep breath. “In here. It’s a big bed and we’re both adults.”

Her skin paled further. “You expect me to sleep here? With you? Buddy, you’ve got a lot of nerve.” Her dark eyes flashed.

“Look, two adults can sleep in a bed without having sex. Married people do it all the time.”

She looked from the bed to him. “No way. I told you I wouldn’t sleep with you. If you think I’m going to see you again and feel all lovey-dovey, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Did I say anything about lovey-dovey?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to fall in bed with you.”

Caleb smiled. “I didn’t ask you to have sex with me.”

Lily stared at him, her pupils wide and yes, her nipples hard against her blouse. Was she as turned on as he was? She stared at the window for a minute. He took a deep breath. Honesty was the best policy, right? “Look, I’m not going to deny that I find you attractive, but I won’t try to seduce you. The truth is I can’t afford a hotel room.”

Boy was that the truth. It would take him six months to pay off the flight. Her eyes widened as though she were surprised by the admission. “I can barely afford this apartment,” Caleb continued. “Besides, this arrangement makes sense.”

“To whom?” Lily shook her head. “Fine. Then you sleep on the couch tonight. I’ll get a hotel in the morning.”

Caleb’s frustration mounted. “Did you see my couch? It’s five foot five. I’m six foot one. Not gonna happen.”

“Then I’ll sleep on the couch tonight and—”

“And how do I explain to Mrs. P why my wife is sleeping at a hotel?” He ran a hand over his jaw. “You really aren’t mature enough to share a bed with a man? Or is it you’re afraid you’ll find me irresistible?”

“Oh, I can resist you, all right.”

“You don’t exactly have such a good track record, sweetheart.” He stepped closer and smiled as she stepped back until the back of her thighs hit the bed.

“That’s not fair. I was drunk. Besides, you weren’t doing much resisting either if I remember correctly.”

“What man in his right mind would?” Caleb’s cock swelled in memory or was it because of the woman before him now? He didn’t want to ponder that question.

Lily’s skin turned pink and he fought the urge to reach out and touch her. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

What the hell?
Caleb ran a finger down her cheek. Her skin was like velvet. She closed her eyes at the touch and suddenly he wanted to feel her naked flesh under his fingertips.

She reached up and took his hand, her eyes suddenly vulnerable. “I’d… I’d like to take a shower. It was a long flight and it’s late for me.”

“Sure, sweetheart. The bathroom is the door to your left when you first walked in the apartment.”

Lily unlatched the suitcase. “I have a name, you know.”

“I know.”

She rummaged through case, grabbed something and with a parting smirk, walked out of the room, her hips swaying in a tantalizing motion. It was going to be a long weekend indeed.

Lily stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock in the kitchen. Only eight thirty? Of course for her it was well past bedtime. She pulled her robe tighter and glanced at the couch where Caleb sat reading. It didn’t look any more comfortable since the last time she’d examined it.

You really aren’t mature enough to share a bed with a man.
Caleb’s accusation still stung, but the thought of sleeping next to him, waking up next to him… Maybe he was right. She wasn’t mature enough. The idea sent shivers all over her body and not of dread.

She could still get a hotel, but she was so tired and Caleb had a point about Mrs. Patterson. If she was inquisitive enough to do a background check, she might check out where Lily was sleeping. Why did it matter to the woman? She sponsored his art, not his personal life. “Old bat,” Lily mumbled. Why couldn’t Caleb have a guest room? Why would she think he would?

“You could go to bed.”

Lily looked up to see Caleb staring at her, the book on his lap. She fought another yawn.

He stood and walked toward her, leaning on the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. He moved like a cat, all lean muscle and effortless grace. “I promise. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.” A half smile played on his mouth.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

“That’s not generally what you elevate, baby.”

“Funny.”

“It’s a king-sized bed. You could even roll a blanket between us or, what did they do in that movie, hang a blanket from the ceiling?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

He shrugged and then reached over the counter for her hand. “I appreciate this. I really do. I won’t take advantage of you. Scout's honor.”

“Were you a scout?”

Dimples formed under the stubble on his cheeks. He shook his head, eyes gleaming. “Nope.”

And just like that she believed him.
I’m an idiot
. “I think I will go to bed.” She stepped toward the short hallway leading to the room then stopped. “Um…what side do you usually sleep on?”

His lips turned in that sexy grin that made her legs weak. “The one you’re not sleeping on. I’m not picky.”

She nodded, hung her robe on a hook behind the door and pulled down the thick duvet. If she’d known she’d be sleeping with him, she would have brought something else to wear to bed. She glanced down at the T-shirt and boy shorts. Oh well, she wasn’t trying to seduce him anyway.

The smell of laundry detergent didn’t quite hide the rich masculine fragrance lingering on the pillowcase. This was Caleb’s bed. Did he sleep in briefs? In the nude? She rolled over on her stomach and closed her eyes. There was no denying the throb in her sex.
I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.
Arrogant bastard. She punched the pillow. Arrogant, gorgeous, sexy bastard.

She lay her head down on the cool pillow and breathed deeply. A few times over the years, she’d wondered if she was frigid. Although she enjoyed sex with Stewart and managed to orgasm—most of the time—she never craved his body. Never felt that heat of passion. Whatever kind of bastard Caleb was, he was the kind that turned her on instantly. That was both nice to know, and scary as hell.

Caleb stepped into the darkened room. He’d almost fallen asleep on the couch after all. The faint scent of Lily’s fragrance hung in the air. He fought a feeling of warmth, of belonging. He wouldn’t fall into that trap so easily. She wasn’t here to stay.

Lily lay curled on her side, her head resting on her arm. In sleep, her face appeared younger, peaceful. Dark lashes lay against her velvet smooth cheeks. Lily’s pink lips partially opened and she sighed in her sleep. What was she dreaming about? One arm lay under the pillow and the other stretched out toward where he’d be sleeping, almost like she was reaching for him. He was instantly hard, his dick throbbing with need. “Oh shit,” he whispered.

When he’d considered the sleeping situation, before Lily had arrived, he’d assumed it would be easy. It was a big bed, and he wasn’t a sex-maniac. He knew how to control himself, but the sight of Lily in his bed proved more erotic than he could have imagined. All he could think about now was pulling down those blankets and warming her with his body instead. His erection jumped hard against his jeans.

Caleb moved around the bed, watching as the light shifted on the planes of Lily’s face. She was breathtaking. Absolutely beautiful. For a moment, he considered grabbing a sketchpad, but dismissed the idea. He could barely focus. Caleb pulled off his shirt and threw it on top of the laundry basket, followed by his jeans. He grimaced at the erection tenting his briefs. “Sorry, boy. Not this time.”