“Didn’t want to?” He laughed incredulously. “Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted a shoulder, her misery barely masked by her coolness. “Since you rarely tell me what you’re really thinking.”
Gently he lifted her chin. Kissed her. For a second she remained impassive, but he persisted, giving, urging, desperately trying to reach her.
Only when her fingers curled into his shoulders, when she made that soft, helpless sound of awakened desire, did he lift his head. “Did that feel like something I had to do?”
Her eyes were luminous. And sad. “I want the words, Kent.”
“Well, duh. I told you that much, Ace,” Summer broke in helpfully.
When they both glared at her, she covered her ears again, and also closed her eyes. “I’m not even here,” she assured them. “Unless you need me.”
“You’ve done quite enough,” Kent muttered.
“I’ll take my clothes,” Becca said to Summer, backing away from the both of them. “And you might as well tell me the truth. There never was a contest for the makeover, was there? It was just a way of roping me in.”
Summer dropped the hands from her ears and made a disparaging sound. “I just wanted to help.”
Becca let out a smile that was both warm and sad. “I know. And you did. Actually, both of you did.” She scooped up the garment bag, walked to the door. When she had her hand on the handle, she turned back. “I understand what you tried to give me, Summer. And it was wonderful. Exciting.” She looked at Kent and her eyes clouded, which broke his heart. “I understand what you tried to give me, too,” she whispered to him. “And it was also wonderful and exciting. But I still want more, Kent.”
“I know,” he said to the door after she’d shut it. “Dammit. I want more, too.”
Summer grinned at him, making him swear colorfully.
“Love, love, love,” she sang, then laughed. “Oh don’t worry, Dr. Dreamboat. I’m going to make a great sister-in-law.”
He nearly passed out at the thought.
13
IT WAS LATE, but Becca didn’t feel like going home. She’d been riding for an hour already now and her legs had long ago turned into rubber, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she rode to the lab, hoping to be able to be alone and think.
Quivering muscles or not, it was time to face the facts. She’d set out to have a good time and had ended up falling in love, and the man she’d fallen in love with didn’t “do” love.
Oh, he cared for her; she had only to look into his expressive eyes to see that. He wanted her, too. Every time he held her in his warm, strong, capable arms, that wanting surged like a live, tangible thing between them.
Thankfully the lab was empty. No one to see the stupid tears on her cheeks, no one to witness the self-pity she so rarely allowed herself.
All she wanted now was to lose herself in work. Unfortunately, some data she needed sat on Kent’s desk waiting his approval.
Letting herself in his office, she took a moment to stand there and simply absorb his favorite space. She could feel him here, could imagine him standing tall by the window, his eyes flashing wickedly when he shot her that just-for-her smile.
She got what she needed from his desk, then stared in surprise at the trash can. The lingerie catalogue. This was a prized possession, favorite reading material, fought over by every single male in the lab on a daily basis.
Why had Kent thrown it away?
It didn’t matter, she told herself. He could do as he wanted. So could she. Wild, fun, adventure. Her new motto. Yeah. She was a new woman.
But some of the wind left her sails when she realized she was a new woman who still had to ride home. Alone.
FINALLY, KENT THOUGHT as relief washed through him. Finally. When Becca got off her bike, he rose off her top stair where he’d been waiting and worrying.
She stood there in the light of the moon’s glow looking soft and vulnerable. Automatically, as if it was the most natural thing in his world, he reached for her, but at the last second, he stopped himself.
She’d been crying.
“You’re hurt?” he demanded in a voice gritty with concern as he took her arm to turn her toward him so he could get a better look at her. Years of nasty tumbles had him checking out her knees and elbows first, but she shook her head.
“I’m not that pathetic,” she said. “I can ride a bike.”
He knew then, without her saying it, that he’d given her that sad, haunted look. In light of that, he had no right to haul her close the way he wanted to do. To bury his face in the soft spot of her neck, to wrap his arms around her and hold on tight.
While he was still standing there like an idiot, she crossed the threshold and surprised him by walking directly into his arms.
She felt like heaven. “I’m so glad to see you,” he whispered.
She simply pressed closer, put her cold nose to the crook of his neck and held on. “You threw away your lingerie catalog,” she said, her voice muffled. “How come?”
The question completely baffled him. “What?”
She pulled away and looked at him. “You’ve never thrown one of those away. You and the guys save them-I know where you hide them.”
“Uh, yeah. Well.” Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. “I threw this one away, okay?”
“Why?”
He sighed. “Wouldn’t you rather know why I’m here?”
She lifted a shoulder. Studied her feet. Blew out a breath. “Okay.”
“So enthusiastic.”
“Okay, fine. If you must know, I’m a little nervous you’re here to say something like, ‘you drive me crazy, Becca. You ruined a good pair of my shoes, twisted my ankle and got a ticket in my car. You’re too much trouble, so stay out of my life.”’ She flashed an uncertain smile that both warmed and broke his heart. “That’s what I’m thinking you should be saying to me.”
“You can’t really think that.” But she did, he could see that more clearly than the nose on his face. “Okay, I’m not good at words, but I’ll try. For you, I’d try anything.”
“You…you would?”
“I let you drive my car, didn’t I? Come with me.”
“Where?”
“Your bedroom,” he said, his voice already husky at the thought of her there.
Her eyes darkened, her lips parted. “You want to show me something?”
“I want to tell you, with those words you want, but it has to be there.”
She bit her lip and nodded, and he scooped her up in his arms. There was no wild kissing this time, no forays in the hallway, no pressing each other against the wall in desperate hunger.
But she looped her arms around his neck. “I can walk.”
“Maybe I want to hold you. Makes me feel tough,” he said, huffing only a little. “Manly.”
She laughed, then grew quiet when he pushed open the bedroom door, carried her to the bed and slowly let her slide down his body until her feet hit the floor.
With a hand that was suddenly unsteady, because this was so important, he reached out and touched her face. “I can run a company. Manage a staff. I can do just about anything that needs to be done in my lab, but formulating my thoughts and putting them into words where you’re concerned is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
She closed her eyes. “I understand-”
He pressed gentle fingers to her soft lips, then leaned close to whisper, “Let me show you.” He touched her hair, then took a step closer, eased out the clip that kept everything so neat and sank his fingers into the thick, glorious depths.
She made a sound of wanting. He bent to kiss her. She made another sound, of desire this time, and her eyes fluttered closed again. The pulse at the base of her throat matched his racing heart.