What a Woman Wants Page 14
She began pacing the floor and continued her tirade. “I tried to talk you out of going after this guy, and when Faith told me you had planned to spend the night—with a guy you didn’t even know—I knew that meant trouble.”
She came to a stop in front of Shannon’s chair. “You’re hurting. I can feel it. Tell us what happened so we can get you through this. What did he do to you?”
Shannon fought a smile as she placed her box of food aside. Okay she was hurting, mostly sore in a place she’d rather not mention. And she would admit she’d been rather quiet since returning from spending the night with Adam, but there was a valid reason for it. He had stripped her of her safety net, and she wasn’t sure how to get it back. She’d never felt this vulnerable with a man before in her life.
Knowing her best friends were waiting on an answer, she sighed deeply and met their concerned gazes. “The only thing he did to me,” she began. “Or perhaps I should say the only thing we did to each other was almost screw each other’s brains out for more than eighteen or so hours.”
Ignoring Monique’s openmouthed shock, she added, “And all I can say is that no toy—make, brand, or model—can compete with the real thing when it belongs to Adam Corbain.” And as if her statement was not outlandish in the least, she picked up her food and began eating again.
A half hour later Shannon entered her bedroom and closed the door. It was early afternoon yet she felt tired. She was exhausted. She was so sexually satisfied, it was a doggone shame. And she remembered it all perfectly. Every hot-tamale detail. All she had to do was close her eyes to recall each and every thrust, every tongue-licking sensation. When it had come to positions, neither she nor Adam had had preferences. They believed in equal rights and were as unconventional as any two people could get.
All he’d had to do was look at her in that area and her legs would automatically come open. She should feel like a hussy, but all she felt was the epitome of a sexually fulfilled woman. A woman who had definitely gotten what she’d wanted.
And with that came a floodgate of problems—most of which she didn’t want to dwell on tonight. At least Faith and Monique had had the decency not to question her any further, and she hadn’t wanted to talk about it. What she and Adam had shared was private, special, and meaningful. Well, as meaningful as hard sex could get.
And that, she had to constantly remind herself, was all that it was. He had the stamina of a damn bull, and she had gone along for the ride—and what a ride it had been. He had turned her slow-moving flame into a full-fledged fire, soaring her to a level she’d never been taken before.
She sighed and stripped off her clothes. She would definitely be paying Adam Corbain a few more visits before putting an end to their affair.
“You still aren’t worried about Shannon and that Corbain guy?
Faith cast a glance over her shoulder when Monique, who was dressed for her date with Lyle, stepped out on the patio. Faith had been practicing the swings Shane had gone over with her that day. She could easily tell Monique was still bothered by what Shannon had said earlier, and placing her tennis racket aside, she met Monique’s worried expression. “No, I’m still not worried. Concerned but not exactly worried. She’s always been the most sexually active of all of us—you know that.”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing, Monique. Shannon is a grown woman. It’s her heart she’s been guarding all these years, and we both know why. Leave her alone. She’s evidently dealing with a midlife crisis at thirty-three. As always we’ll be here when she wants to talk. Otherwise, we keep quiet and listen. No advice. No reprimands. And,” she added pointedly, “no judging.”
“Besides,” Faith said moments later, amused, “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten my brains screwed out. I wonder how it’s done and, more importantly, how it feels.”
Monique placed her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “Well, don’t expect me to be able to tell you. Things with me and Paul were standard but always good. I prefer the easy-going, nothing wild and crazy.”
Then, deciding that she couldn’t hold it in any longer, that she desperately needed to talk to someone, she said, “But at this point, I’ll take it anyway I can get it. It’s been so long for me.”
Faith glanced over at her. “Just how long has it been?”
Emotion gripped Monique’s throat when she responded. “Three years. Not since Paul.”
For some reason Monique had known Faith wouldn’t look at her like she’d lost her mind or something. She would think that Monique’s sex life and what she did or didn’t do with it was her business and no one else’s. Monique truly appreciated her friend for that.
What Faith did do was tilt her head ever so slightly and ask softly, “Do you think Paul would want you to deny that of yourself?”
Monique shook her head. “No. Paul was the most unselfish man I knew. He would want me to move on with my life and to find someone who would make me happy. I’ve dated several times since his death, but I’ve never felt that connection or attraction to any man to want to go any further than a good-night kiss at the door. At least not until I ran into Lyle.”
Faith’s lips quirked in a smile. “So Dr. Lyle Montgomery turns you on, does he?”
“Like nobody’s business, but I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“You trust him,” Faith said, as if reminding her of that. “How could it ruin your friendship?”
Monique shrugged. “It just might if sex is added to the mix. I’m nothing more than Arnie’s sister to him. He’s nice, mannerly, respectful, and kind. If I were to come on to him, what would he think?”
“Probably what he’s already thinking. That you’re a very desirable woman. And who says your friendship can’t move beyond that? He’s single and so are you.”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing, Monique. You worry too much.”
Monique smiled. “I probably do.” She then said, “He invited me to go with him to Beaufort for the weekend.”
“Are you?”
Monique’s stomach fluttered at the thought. “You think I should?”
“Why wouldn’t you go? You know him. He’s evidently a nice guy. And we’re here to have fun, enjoy life, and not cater to anyone’s expectations of us. Remember, that’s Cely’s orders. There’s no reason for you not to go to Beaufort with Lyle for the weekend and enjoy yourself. And it might give you an opportunity to let him know that you want to escalate your friendship to another level, if that’s what you really want to do.”
Monique pursed her lips. “What about you?”
Faith raised a brow. “And what about me?”
“You and your tennis instructor. You like him. I hear it in your voice whenever you mention him. He sounds like a nice guy.”
Faith reached over to pick her racket back up. “He is a nice guy and he’s been teaching me a lot.” And probably would teach me a lot more if I gave him the chance.
“Well, you might want to take your own advice: have fun, enjoy life, and not cater to anyone’s expectations.” Monique glanced down at her watch. “I better get my purse. Lyle should be here any minute.”
When Monique turned to leave, Faith called out to her. “Monique?”
“Yes?”
“About the trip to Beaufort with Lyle for the weekend. You are going, right?”
Monique nodded as a smile touched her lips. “Yes, I’m going.” As she breezed back through the house and toward her bedroom to get her purse, she felt good about telling Lyle she would be spending the weekend with him in Beaufort.
18
“I gather your friend returned home okay.”
“She’s back and okay,” Monique answered Lyle as he opened the car door and she slipped inside onto the soft leather seat. “I guess I was worrying for nothing.”
“She’s your friend, so your worrying was for something,” Lyle said before closing the door. “True friendship is hard to find these days and should be che
rished.”
After buckling her seat belt, Monique sat back comfortably and watched while he walked around the front of the car to get in. “There’s a place called Stellini that I think you’d like. Italian foods are still your favorite?” He started the engine.
She smiled, surprised he remembered. “Yes.”
“Then I think you’ll be pleased.”
“Thank you.” It was on the tip of her tongue to add that she would be pleased going anywhere with him, but instead she merely sat there, staring straight ahead, trying not to glance over at him. When he had arrived to pick her up and she had opened the door, it had taken everything she had to hold back her groan. He looked so good in his white shirt and dark trousers. Lyle was 100 percent male—and then some.
“I got a call from my brother Lance before I left my place to pick you up. He had good news to share with me,” Lyle said, glancing over at her when he brought the car to a traffic light. He smiled. “He and Asia are going to have a baby.”
“Oh, Lyle, that’s wonderful! Congrats on your pending uncle-hood. You’re going to love it.”
He chuckled. “Will I?”
“Yes, I think you will. I also think that you’re going to make a wonderful uncle.”
“What about you, sweetheart? Do you like being an aunt? Arnie has three kids, right?”
Monique tried to ignore the shiver that flowed through her body with his term of endearment. He probably hadn’t realized he’d made it, but she definitely had. “Yes, he has three, and I enjoy being an aunt. I don’t get to see my nieces and nephew as much as I like, but I’ll have more time on my hands for a while, so I’ll be able to visit them.”
“Why’s that?”
She glanced over at him, glad his eyes were on the road. “Because technically, I’m presently unemployed. My job downsized a couple of months ago, and I was one of the casualties.”
“Sorry to hear that. Major corporations seem to be doing a lot of that these days.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, and after sixteen years with them, I tried not to take it personal—but that was hard to do.”
“I can imagine. So what are your plans?”
“Don’t have any concrete ones just yet. I’m going to take my time before going back into the job market. Who knows, I might decide on a whole new career since my bachelor’s degree is in Business Administration. I’m even thinking about going back to school and getting my MBA. I’m not in a rush to make any decisions. My severance package was a rather good one, so I’m okay for a while.” It was then that she noticed they had arrived at the restaurant.
He pulled into the parking space, cut off the ignition, un-snapped his seat belt, and turned toward her. His gaze was soft, tender, and considerate. “But if you were to ever need anything, you would let me know, right?”
Probably not, she thought. Chances were she wouldn’t even let Arnie know. He wouldn’t hesitate to come to her aid if she needed him, but he had his own life and family now to worry about. Besides, she’d become self-reliant and independent since Paul’s death. Other than Cely, Faith, and Shannon, she hadn’t had anyone to confide in during those times she needed to talk to someone. Her father was there if she needed him, but there were some things you just didn’t share with your dad. Besides, it was time to see to his needs and not vice versa.
“Nicky?”
It was then that she realized Lyle was waiting for her response. “Yes, I’d let you know,” she lied.
The smile that touched his lips was instantaneous and intimate. And the warmth she saw in his gaze touched her deeply. “Good. And I’m going to hold you to it.”
“All right.”
“Now what about tomorrow? Have you given any thought to spending the weekend with me in Beaufort?”
Her tongue nervously darted out of her mouth to lick her top lip. She knew he really wasn’t asking her to spend the weekend with him, at least not in the intimate sense. But still, hearing him state it that way was increasing her pulse rate.
She cleared her throat. “Yes, if the invitation is still out there, I’d love to go to Beaufort with you.”
A grin quirked the corners of his mouth. “The invitation is definitely still out there, and I guarantee that the two of us will enjoy ourselves and have plenty of fun.”
Monique nodded and released her seat belt. She didn’t doubt him.
19
“Now that we’ve unpacked, what’s the first thing you want to do?”
Anna glanced around and met Zach’s gaze. If she really had a choice, she would boldly walk up to him and give him the kiss she’d been dreaming about giving him for almost a year. But she didn’t have a choice ... and she really wasn’t that bold.
They had arrived on Glendale Shores a few hours ago. It hadn’t taken long for them to unpack after they had gone walking and taken a tour of the island. It was beautiful, scenic, a lush paradise, the perfect place just to get away. Although she lived within thirty minutes by ferry, she’d never thought of crossing the waterways to visit the island alone.
“I guess we should concentrate on dinner,” she said, deciding that kind of chore sounded safest. Besides, they had to eat sometime. They had gotten a late start from Hilton Head, since they had made a quick stop at a grocery store. One thing was for certain, they didn’t intend to starve to death.
She watched him nod, flashing her one of those endearing smiles that made her want to love him forever, even if he never loved her back. “Hey, you’ll never get an argument from a man when it comes to food,” he said. “We live to eat.”
“Even if they have to do the cooking?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, didn’t I make myself clear at the store?”
“On what subject?”
“That when it comes to eating, we share cooking duties.”
“Share?”
He grinned over at her. “You didn’t learn English yesterday, Anna. Yes, share. You know what that means.”
She shrugged. “It seems while on this island I tend to have bouts of memory lapses.”
He cracked up. “Okay, let’s see which gets more intense later. Your memory lapses or your stomach griping from hunger.”
Anna playfully groaned. “Okay, you win. So what do we cook?”
“Something simple. I don’t feel like messing with the grill, so how about if we steam some shrimp, boil some corn, saute some fresh veggies, and call it a night.”
That sounded good to her. “Nothing to drink?”
“Oh, you’ll get something to drink,” he said in a deep and sexy voice that rumpled down her spine like a frisson of spiraling heat. “I personally know where your great-grandfather used to store his homemade stash.”
Anna flashed him a grin, definitely interested. “No kidding?”
“No kidding.”
Anna quickly crossed the yard, grabbed Zach’s arms, and tugged him up the steps into the house. “Then what are we waiting for?”
A few hours later, Anna leaned over the table, groaning. “I ate too much.”
“Hey, don’t blame me,” Zach said, smiling at her. “You ate most of the stuff while we were cooking it.”
She straightened in the chair and shrugged. “I like fresh vegetables.”
“I think that was obvious, Anna.”
She lifted her chin as she stood up with their plates in her hands. “Well, buddy, let’s see if you get any of the dessert I threw together.” She then turned and walked off toward the kitchen.
Moments later Zach followed suit and found Anna standing at the counter lifting her arms as she tried to put something in a top cabinet. He knew the nice thing would be to offer to help, but at the moment he preferred just standing there staring.
She had a mass of beautiful hair. Usually she wore it back in a ponytail, but today it was loose and hung almost past her waist. It looked rich, luxurious, and thick—and whenever she moved, her hair moved with her, definitely placing emphasis to the sway of
her hips. He was tempted, really tempted, to go over to her and run his hands through the strands of hair before gently pulling her head back to claim her lips.
“You plan on standing there, or do you intend to help?”
He blinked. She met his gaze over her shoulder. She’d caught him staring. He shrugged. There wasn’t a thing he could do about that now. “You want me to help someone who threatened to deny me dessert?” he asked teasingly, crossing the room at a leisurely pace.
“That would be nice.”
“What makes you think I’m a nice person?”
She turned around and smiled. “Your dad.”
He came to stop directly in front of her. “My dad?”
At her nod, he asked, “My dad said I was nice?”
“No. I’m assuming you’re nice because your father is. You know what they say about the pear not falling far from the tree bit.”
Zach hung his head down and guffawed, thinking that was much more polite than being rude and laughing in her face. Even after living in this country for quite some time, she still occasionally got her quotes mixed up. He glanced back up. “It’s apples and not pears, and just because my father’s nice doesn’t mean that I have to be.”
“But you are,” she said, lifting her head defiantly, something he thought she was very good at.
The first time he’d seen her do that had been when he’d made the trip to San Diego to convince her to return to D.C. with him and claim her rightful place as Ross Fuller’s heir. He had probably fallen in love with her then but hadn’t known it.
“Think whatever you like, Miss Ross-Fuller. You just better hope you never witness my mean streak.”
“If you say so.”
He sighed. Standing so close to her was stimulating one of his fantasies, his top one, which was to give her a kiss that was anything but platonic. It was a dangerous and crazy thought, but he couldn’t help wondering how she would handle it if he did just that.
“I was putting some stuff away while looking for a small plate to serve you some pie.”
Her statement intruded into his thoughts. “I thought you weren’t going to give me any dessert.”