She hugged her arms closer to herself and wondered how they’d gotten to this point. “My past has nothing to do with the here and now.”
“Hmmph,” he said in obvious disagreement. Bending, he began to collapse the empty boxes with a quick efficiency. “Tahiti,” he muttered.
“Don’t fold up those boxes. I need them.”
He ignored her. “Know what I think?” he asked casually, folding yet another moving box. “I think you use this slightly wacky, wild-woman thing as a shield. I think it’s an effort for you to push yourself to live life to its fullest, because you never got the chance before.”
His hands stilled. His gaze met hers, held it. “Isn’t that right?” he asked softly.
Her only defense was sarcasm, and she usually used it well. “That would suit you just fine, wouldn’t it? If I was really someone else. But if you’re hoping that beneath this crazy facade lives a calm, elegant, and sophisticated woman, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Of course I’m not.”
“Really?” She let out a little laugh. “Tell me something. You like everything about me, every little thing?”
“Well…” His lips twitched. “Everything but the window rattling. If you’d just turn down the music, just a little bit…”
“Stop it,” she said quietly, not feeling like bantering. “I’m not your type, you’ve said that often enough. Don’t tease me about it.”
“Oh, you’re my type,” he said silkily. “I’m just not yours.” In the center of a sea of boxes, he turned around and lifted his hands. “Trisha, I’m not good at this, at keeping a woman happy for long. I’ve told you, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Too late for that. Much too late. But with Hunter looking at her, his eyes gentle and regretful, she couldn’t tell him so.
“Don’t move out of here,” he said suddenly, standing and touching her face. “Please, I’ll leave, but not you. You belong here, and I want to be able to picture you, happy in your home.”
He’d leave. He’d leave so she could stay. Some compromise, her heart cried, but what choice did she have?
“Please,” he whispered, dropping his hand from her. “Promise you’ll stay.”
“You’re still going to sell.”
It wasn’t a question, but he answered her with a curt nod. “Yes.”
Locking her knees together, she lifted her chin, prepared to be curt in return. But one look at him and the words dried up in her mouth. His expression, so carefully blank, told her he purposely, desperately hid his thoughts. Only the searing, tortured glaze in his eyes gave him away as he waited for her answer.
Everyone in his life left him or took from him. No one stayed of their own accord, just for him.
She’d be the first.
“Maybe I will stay a little longer,” she said slowly, heart thumping as she hoped to ease him somehow.
It worked. His body relaxed, the tension drained instantly, or most of it. There was still some left in his gaze as he looked at her for one long telling moment before turning and quietly walking out of her life.
The next day Trisha took a phone call from Sam Walters, the realtor. The minute he said his name, she couldn’t help but picture a little weasel, sniffing and chortling over the prospect of a huge sale. Gritting her teeth, she suffered the banalities of casual conversation until he got to the point of his call.
Thrilled at the imminent sale, he simply wanted to assure her that the prospective new owners did indeed want her to stay on as a tenant. And as the previous owner had stipulated in no uncertain terms, she would be allowed to transfer her current lease.
It seemed Hunter had been busy.
The offer far surpassed her hopes, she had to admit as she hung up the phone. But that’s not why she suddenly dropped her head to her desk and began to sob with helpless abandon.
No, it was the realtor’s parting words that threatened to shred apart her heart.
On top of allowing her to stay in her place for as long as she wished, the “previous owner” had taken care of one more thing.
Hunter Adams had done what he seemed to do best – taken care of those he felt responsible for. It was apparently the only way he had of showing his true feelings.
It certainly was the only evidence she had of how much he cared for her, but she’d take it and hold it dear to her heart nonetheless, knowing that for Hunter, it was a profound expression of his feelings, the most she was likely ever to receive.
He’d settled her rent with the new owners for the next five years.
Fifteen
She dreamed of Hunter that night, dreamed of his fathomless green eyes, of his sweet, yet wicked smile, of the intensity that always simmered just beneath his surface.
She dreamed of his incredible mouth on hers, soft at first, then more seductive. Her body reacted, arched up against the bedding… and came in contact with a warm, hard, strong body.
“It’s me,” he said in a husky whisper, startling her fully awake.
Hunter.
In the silvery light she saw his face, saw the tense lines of fear and need warring with good sense.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he said softly.
He wore only a T-shirt and sweatpants. Kneeling by the bed, he leaned close and dipped his mouth to the frantically racing pulse at the base of her neck, then groaned at his first taste of her. “God, Trisha, don’t… I don’t think I can stand it if you… Please, don’t make me go.”
As if she could.
“Trisha?”
In answer, she moved back and made room. He lay down in the warm space, half covering her body with his own, the blankets still between them. His powerful arms shook slightly as he drew her to him.
“I dreamed you were gone,” he whispered raggedly. “I had to come make sure.”
“I thought you were gone.”
In her arms, he shivered, though he felt warm to the touch. “I tried to go.” He pulled her tighter. “Couldn’t.”
He expected her to leave him. He’d been waiting for it, so sure he would be left once again. In fact, he’d done everything in his power to chase her away, to ensure that she would go. Well, she thought with a deep breath, this test was about to come to an end.
“I’m here,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m right here.”
“I can’t stop thinking of you… of what you do to me.” He untied his sweats and drew her hand inside to his very solid erection. “I need you, Trisha. So much.” He moaned when she stroked him. “God. Please.”
She murmured, knowing she could no more refuse him than stop breathing. With a sigh of relief, he stripped off his shirt, pulled the covers back from between them. At the sight of her, he let out a strangled breath.
She was naked.
“I didn’t finish my laundry,” she said inanely, thinking she needed to explain why she’d chosen to sleep in the buff. “And -”
“You’re so beautiful.” His hands cupped the soft curves of her breasts, a sound of pure male satisfaction coming from deep in his throat when he found the tips hard and pebbly. “Last time you took care of me.” His lips kissed their way over her collarbone. “This time it’s for you. All for you.”
She wanted to deny that, wanted it to be for him, too, but then his lips replaced his fingers, slowly surrounding her breasts, and she couldn’t speak at all, much less think.
His talented fingers didn’t stay idle, but worked their way down her belly with featherlight strokes, making her shiver with anticipation. “Hunter…”
“Shhh,” he murmured against her skin. “Just feel.”
Then he drew her nipple hard into his mouth at the same instant as he slipped a finger inside her, and she had to bite back her scream, writhing against the bed.
“No.” Lifting his head, he whispered roughly, “Don’t hold back, Trisha. I want it all.” Then he tugged rhythmically on her with his mouth, his fingers matching the motions below.