Striptease Page 18

  Maybe not…“Unless it’s not about the office, but more like a borderline compulsive disorder that spills over into every corner of your life.”

  “Wow.” Rennie shook her head, her smile obviously one of amusement. “Could either of us be more out of sorts?”

  “Probably, but I’d really hate to be hanging out here if that were the case.” Melanie nodded toward the stack of papers she recognized as questionnaires filled out by girls interested in the gUIDANCE gIRL program. “Is this turning out to be more work than you’d thought?”

  “What? The counseling?” Rennie shook her head. “Not at all. No, my being out of sorts is…a horse of a different color. One I’m not sure of the best way to handle, as I’m dealing with my own conflicted emotions.”

  Hesitating for a moment, Melanie made an offer that she didn’t think she’d ever before made to a woman she didn’t know closely. “Do you want to talk about it? I’m not the best one to offer advice, but I do have a willing ear.”

  Rennie’s mouth crooked in a grin that was uncannily similar to Jacob’s. “Because psychologists need counseling, too?”

  “Sure,” Melanie said, feeling as if she’d just made a very good friend. “And this isn’t exactly about physician healing thyself. Just woman to woman.”

  Her expression a sad sort of bewilderment, Rennie took a moment to consider. “As a woman, then, I guess it wouldn’t surprise you to hear this is all over a man?”

  Out of sorts didn’t even begin to cover their shared man misery. Melanie sighed. “It happens to the best of us.”

  “You, too?” Rennie’s tone was infused with a curious sense of hope.

  And Melanie nodded.

  “With Jacob?”

  She nodded again.

  Hope and bewilderment didn’t stand a chance when Rennie finally decided to grin. “I can’t believe it!”

  “Is that a bad disbelief?” Because it was really hard to tell.

  “How can you say that?” She tossed back her head and laughed. “It’s wonderful. I’m beyond thrilled.”

  That made one of them. “Don’t be too thrilled.”

  “Why not? This is the best news I’ve heard in forever. Jacob needs a strong woman in his life to be there for him. He’s not an easy man to know.”

  “Well…” Melanie let the thought trail off, unsure how much of their arrangement to reveal to Jacob’s sister. “It’s not so much about knowing him, or being there for him.”

  “Well what?” The other woman frowned. “He doesn’t know how you feel?”

  Making love. Sharing that kiss. And then her really lame declaration of being happily married to her job. Yeah, he probably knew. “It’s not that. We’re both too involved with our careers to be involved with each other. As much as it sucks, and it does, neither one of us is in a position to be in a relationship.”

  Rennie snorted. “Try being in a position with three hundred miles between.”

  Three-hundred miles. Houston to…San Antonio? “Aiden Zuniga?”

  “Good grief, woman. Are you psychic?”

  Melanie chuckled. “I remember seeing how cozy the two of you were at Chloe’s cookout.”

  Slumping back in the chair, Rennie closed her eyes and rolled her head back and forth on the headrest. “I should’ve walked away that day when he told me where he lived. I knew better. I knew better. But I told him I’d meet him for coffee and he kissed me and…God. My mind is taking a beating from my body and my heart.”

  “Exactly.”

  “After the way I grew up, I swore never to become involved with a man who wouldn’t be home with me every night. Just like Jacob swore to never become obsessed with his career. And look at us now. What a pair.” Her head lolled to one side; she opened her eyes and looked at Melanie. “So? You and me. What do we do?”

  “You’re asking the wrong woman.” Melanie answered with a laugh of her own. “I’m useless.”

  “I guess this time is about the physician healing herself.”

  “I’d say so.” Melanie pondered. “But once you’re done? Feel free to send the healing vibes my direction. Or if that doesn’t work, medication.”

  RENATA MADE HER WAY down the second floor hallway of the new loft complex built in an old-time gothic style. Her fingers closed around the door key she held, her grip tightening until the teeth bit sharply into her palm.

  Even then she didn’t let go. She wasn’t afraid of losing it; she just needed to know it was still there. That she hadn’t imagined Aiden had sent it. She was having a hard enough time believing the note he’d sent along.

  He’d rented a place in town, he’d said. And he planned to spend his weekends here. At least the weekends he could get away. Weekdays, too, when possible. He still worked the horses, yes. But much of his involvement in the ranch had taken an administrative slant.

  That didn’t make him particularly happy; give him a corral over a desk any day. But such was the nature of the business these days. And paperwork and phone calls could be handled in Houston, as well as from San Antonio. FedEx and faxes and DSL hadn’t been invented for nothing.

  She still couldn’t believe he’d done all this to be with her, with no guarantee of any sort of return. That was the other thing his note had said. He wanted to be with her, to spend all the time he could with her. Even if she was doing no more than lying on the sofa watching the news while he worked in the spare bedroom office.

  How could she say no? How could she say yes?

  How could she say anything at all until she knew the truth?

  She had to know if he was being honest. If he truly wanted to get to know her, to spend time in her company, to do no more than share as much of herself as she was willing to give…. Oh, but life was unfair, offering her everything she’d ever wanted in a man she couldn’t have on her terms.

  She finally spotted the doorway alcove with the smiling gargoyle above holding a sign carved with a gilded 206. Aiden’s home away from home. The threshold into the rest of her life. Or the biggest mistake she’d ever made.

  She slid the key into the lock and turned it smoothly; the door opened without a single squeak from a single hinge. The smells of fresh air and sunshine spilled through the crack as she opened the door and she knew. Oh, yes, she knew.

  He was here.

  He was the one, in fact, stretched out on the eggshell leather sofa watching the evening news. Pillows colored like toast and lemon and midnight-black supported his head at one end. His heels were propped on the curve of the opposite arm.

  And, actually, now that she looked closer, she saw that he wasn’t watching the evening news at all but sleeping straight through. She stepped into the high-ceilinged living room and quietly closed the door. The dead bolt wasn’t as cooperative; the click sounded like a pistol shot.

  Aiden’s head whipped around.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, the key again clutched hard in her hand. “I didn’t know the lock would make that much noise.”

  He propped himself up on one elbow, dragged a hand down his face to push sleep away. “It’s still new. I’ve thought about digging an old one out of the barn at the ranch and switching them.”

  “I’m sure it will break in.” Which led to the question…if she didn’t come by very often, would he continue to keep this place? And how would she ever know if she wanted him to without obligation being a factor? She didn’t want to feel that she owed him anything at all. “With enough use.”

  “I hope so.” He sat all the way up, swinging his feet to the hardwood floor. “It’s nice to see you using it.”

  “To tell you the truth,” she began, sounding more nervous than she liked. “If I’d known you were here I might not have come. I thought I’d take a quick tour before you caught me.” Oh, why did he have to look at her like that? As if he’d been waiting all of his life for her to walk through the door?

  He reached for the boots he’d obviously kicked beneath the glass-and-brushed-chrome coffee table.

 
; “What are you doing?” she squeaked.

  He put one foot into one boot and gave a strong tug. “Leaving. I don’t want to put you off from your tour.”

  She moved farther into the room, closer to the sofa and his sparkling blue eyes. “Don’t be silly. We’re both here. You can show me around.”

  He hesitated for a long moment, looking down at the other boot held in his hands. His knees were spread wide as he leaned forward, and the tails of his white chambray shirt hung loose down his back.

  She realized too late that his shirt was unbuttoned. If she’d noticed while he’d been sleeping, she could’ve done her ogling unawares. But then he dropped the second boot to the floor, pulled off the first and pushed up to his feet.

  And now that he was standing not three yards away, she was faced with an amazing expanse of bare chest and belly, muscles and smooth skin and a light dusting of hair. His silver belt buckle rode low on his abs, and Renata swallowed hard.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, and she couldn’t even remember what she’d said until he added, “I don’t mind leaving.”

  Oh, no. If he left now she wasn’t sure she could stand it. “No. Stay. It’s your place, for goodness sake.”

  “Well, then.” He gestured with the sweep of one arm. “This is the living room.”

  She laughed, returning the key to her wallet as she did. “So I see,” she said, and came even closer, setting her purse in the corner of the sofa because it was a believable reason to move. From here she could sense his heat. And she rubbed her palms up and down both arms as if soaking him in.

  “Cold?” he asked. “I can adjust the thermostat.”

  “No. I’m fine.” She glanced around the room. Even with the cool glass-and-chrome accent pieces, the space glowed with a creamy warmth that the air-conditioning couldn’t chill. “I like the ambience. And the furnishings.” She stepped around behind the sofa, putting the piece of furniture between them. “Your decorator did a great job.”

  Aiden scrubbed a hand through his hair before moving both to his hips. The tails of his shirt flared out behind him. And he tumbled Renata’s heart with his carefree grin. “How do you know this look wasn’t my idea?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She ran fingertips along the curved back of the very expensive sofa. “You just don’t look like the eggshell type.”

  “Eggshell?”

  “The color of your sofa.”

  “Hmm.” He frowned. “I thought it was cremello.”

  “Cremello?”

  “A double-diluted palomino.” He shrugged, his mouth crooked into a self-effacing smile. “Horse stuff.”

  He was so easy to look at, standing there with his shoulders slightly hunched and his fingers now tucked into the pockets of his jeans. And then there was his bare chest, which she was dying to get her hands on.

  Oh, but this was not going well. She squeezed the sofa’s padded back. “In the city, you’d call this eggshell. Though cremello does paint a nice…creamy picture.”

  “But a paint is a horse of another color.”

  “Very funny,” she said, enjoying him way too much for her own good. She turned away, headed for the dining area and the kitchen set off from the main room by an island stove and floor tiles the color of old schoolhouse brick. “Do you cook?”

  “Are you hungry?”

  She glanced back to see him still standing where she’d left him. “It’s getting close to dinnertime, isn’t it?”

  “If I fix something, you’ll stay?”

  He sounded so hopeful, timid almost, when nothing she’d learned about him was timid at all. He’d kissed her in the middle of Barnes & Noble, and that was about as bold as anything she’d known a man to publicly do. But he was uncertain about her, and that made her smile. “Sure. As long as you let me help.”

  “I’ll cook. You’re the guest.”

  “No.” She turned and faced him fully. “I don’t want to be treated as a guest. That’s not why I’m here.” She paused for a moment, realizing whatever she said next would determine the rest of the evening. But she had to be sure.

  She had to be sure. “I didn’t think that was the reason you sent me the key. I didn’t think you wanted to spend time with me as your guest.”

  “What did you think?”

  “That you went to a lot of trouble with no guaranteed return.”

  “You’re here. That’s all I wanted.”

  “Is it?”

  “You know, Renata, you shouldn’t bait me if you’re not ready to have me bite.”

  When he put it like that, well, it sounded like exactly what she wanted. “This is tough for me, Aiden. I’ve enjoyed seeing you these last few weeks. I can’t remember when I’ve ever been in a situation where things have been so perfect.”

  “But they’re not.”

  She shook her head. “No. They’re not.”

  “And that’s the difference between you and me. Because I think they’re about as perfect as they can get.”

  “How can you say that?” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “We live three hours apart. What’s so perfect about being unable to see the one person you’re most desperate to be with but can’t?”

  Aiden’s expression grew dark, his eyes flat. “I’m not willing to never see you at all just because I can’t see you every day.” He paused. “Renata?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you desperate to be with me?” he asked in a smoky velvet tone that had her crumbling inside.

  She looked at him standing there, patiently waiting for her to make this call. He’d gone to such extreme lengths to be here, to give them this chance. A chance she was terrified to take.

  A chance she wanted more than anything.

  “Desperate is such a strong word. Implying there’s no other choice, no other option.” She hugged herself even tighter, wishing his arms were the ones twined around her. “I know it was my word, but I hate feeling that I’ve gone back on every promise I made myself about having a long-distance relationship.”

  He held his arms out to the side, a gesture that offered her all that he could. “I’m as close as I can get, Renata. I’ll always be who I am, and there’s not a lot of room in town to raise horses.”

  She couldn’t help her sad grin. “I know.”

  “But I’m here now, baby. And there’s nothing but a sofa between us.”

  If only that’s all there was, she thought miserably, watching him as he watched her and as his decision was made. His hesitation was brief and seemed to be more a case of uncertainty about her reaction than anything. Because when he finally came around the end of the sofa, she saw nothing in his gait or expression but a man’s determination.

  And that stirred her soul beyond belief.

  “Is this better?” he asked, moving to stand directly in front of her.

  She shook her head. She nodded. She didn’t know if having him this near did indeed make things better, or only made them that much worse. Putting what she wanted within her reach, as it were. A distance so easily closed, so easily widened.

  “Renata?” His voice was firm, demanding even.

  “I don’t know.” But, oh, she loved hearing him say her name. “This is so hard for me, Aiden.”

  She’d been standing with her arms still wrapped tightly around her middle, and when Aiden moved in to complete the circle, she laid her forehead in the center of his chest. His hands were hugely comforting as they kneaded the tension from her back, hugely arousing as she imagined them providing another sort of relief. Her thighs and abs flexed in an automatic response.

  She still didn’t know; she didn’t know. But this time when she shook her head, swirls of his chest hair tickled her nose. And that was it. He was warm and he was here for her and he was the most solid wonderful thing she’d known in her life.

  She kissed him, parting her lips there over his sternum and slipping her hands beneath his open shirt and around to his back, where straps of muscle bunched beneath her touch.
When her tongue darted out to taste his skin, he groaned. The sound’s vibration tickled her mouth and the thought of never knowing this man was too much to bear.

  With a sigh, she made her decision, the right decision, the only decision she could possibly make, then pulled away and looked up into his eyes. “Are you going to give me the rest of the tour?”

  An eyebrow flared upward. “Did you want to eat first?”

  Oh, no. Her hunger would not be satisfied in the kitchen. “I’d rather you show me the bedroom.”

  For a moment he said nothing. Even his hands on her back grew still. And then his eyes seemed to darken, to grow hot and heavy-lidded. His desire was impossible to hide and obviously impossible to bank. She wondered if she would ever be able to live up to his expectations.

  “Are you sure?” he finally asked, in a voice so gentle, a taming voice, a calming voice, that all she could think of were wild horses, and the way her body strained at the confines of clothing and propriety instead of corral fencing and bridles and bits.

  She nodded, wanting to run free. “More sure than I’ve been about anything in a very long time.”

  He took her hand then, his hold firm but not frightening, insistent but not cruel, and she followed him into the loft’s bedroom area, separated from the living space by a bathroom enclosure of bamboo and glass.

  The bed was large, but welcoming rather than spacious and cold. With the sun setting on the building’s far side and the shades pulled down over the windows, the only light in the room came from the far end of the loft.

  It was enough, though, for Renata to see what she needed to see, the only thing she needed to see. Aiden. He guided her to one side of the bed, a hand at the small of her back and the other still holding hers. When he stopped and stared down at her as if she was the only thing he wanted to see, his pulse beat wildly in the hollow of his throat.

  She wanted so much to kiss him, but instead she placed three fingertips there to check the beat of his heart. Her own thudded in a matching rhythm and she smiled. “Just making sure I’m not the only one here with a runaway pulse.”

  His hands went to her waist and he tugged her into his body. “Your pulse I can deal with. As long as the rest of you stays right here.”