Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) (9 page)

BOOK: Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2)
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He shifted his position so that we were lying side by side. “In that case, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“I’m not sure how to ask this delicately, so I’m just going to ask.”

“Okay…” I frowned. He looked so serious.

“Are you on the pill?” He grimaced almost immediately. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay. That’s an important question. I’ve been on the pill since I was seventeen.”

“Is that when you, you know, lost your virginity?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling at his uncomfortable expression. “I was seventeen, and the guy was eighteen.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

“Well, that’s the exact same scenario for me. I was seventeen. She was eighteen.”

She
.

“Sabrina, right?”

Daniel flinched. “How the hell do you know about Sabrina?”

“Whoa, easy there. It was Patty. I was looking at her photographs in the hallway, and I saw a prom picture of the two of you. She said Sabrina was your first girlfriend, that’s all. Don’t worry—your deep, dark past remains a mystery.”

He fell back against the pillows. “There’s nothing deep and dark about it, believe me. You just took me by surprise.”

“So, she was your first?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Patty said you tried to keep things going with her even after you moved to England. You must have liked her a lot.”

He frowned. “She was a nice girl. Spoiled rotten by her dad, though. We stayed in touch, but the distance made it next to impossible to maintain a relationship.”

I didn’t want to hear about how nice she was. I wanted to hear more about how she was spoiled and rotten. Yes, I’d taken artistic license with Daniel’s words, but I was okay with that.

“There’s absolutely nothing between us now, you realize that, right?” he said.

“You sure sounded nostalgic there for a second.”

“Aubrey,
you
are the one in my bed and lying in my arms right now.”

“I know. Am I allowed to ask a couple of questions, though?”

“You won’t upset yourself?”

This was a good point. Did I really want to hear about this nice girl to whom Daniel had lost his virginity? Yes, screw it, I did. Clearly I had a masochistic side that had long lain dormant but was now rearing its head with a vengeance.

“Patty said she went to Havergal. Is she rich?”

“Yes, her family is very well off. Sabrina was indulged. Spring break trips with her friends, a car for her sixteenth birthday, the jewelry, the clothes. She was accustomed to getting her own way. Bred a sense of entitlement in her that wasn’t terribly attractive, but other than that she was a good person. Still is, I suppose.”

“So, you still see her?” I asked. Wow, I was really asking for it.

Daniel exhaled. “I don’t think we should talk about this. You’re going to make something out of nothing.”

“That’s not true,” I said defensively. “I promise not to make a mountain out of a molehill.”

He looked at me indecisively.

“Does she still live in Toronto?” I pressed.

He hung his head in resignation. “No. She moved away a little over a year ago.”

“Away? Where?”

Daniel’s jaw twitched. I tried to stay calm.

“She lives in Ottawa,” he said at last.

Ottawa. A five-hour drive. How inconvenient. I smiled inwardly, but then a latent memory flashed in my mind. Hadn’t Daniel’s Reading Week plans included a trip to Ottawa? A trip that had been canceled at the last minute—a cancellation that had resulted in his unannounced arrival at his parents’ house and a night of excessive drinking, complete with a sexually charged snooker lesson?

“Is that where you were supposed to be that weekend? When we had dinner at your folks’ place?”

He anxiously rubbed his eyes. “Figures you’d remember minutiae like that.”

Was he pissed off at me for having a good memory?

“I remember a lot of things, Daniel,” I said quietly.

“So do I, sweetheart. That’s what happens when you write everything down.” His smile was sad. I tried not to let him throw me off course.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Answer something for me first?”

The vague beginnings of irritation worried at the edges of my mind. “Okay.”

“Are we arguing? Because if we are, we should move. My mother always says never argue in bed.”

I had to laugh. He was so earnest. My irritation dissipated as quickly as it had begun.

“We’re not arguing. We’re having a conversation. You’re being evasive, and I’m being insistent.”

He relaxed against the pillows.

“Besides,” I added, “it’s convenient arguing in bed—you know, for when you move on to the make-up sex.”

He laughed. “Make-up sex is a great deal more satisfying when it’s
not
in a bed.”

“Oh? Preferences?”

He rubbed at his whiskers. “Well, against a wall, for instance.”

“Or a bookshelf?” I suggested.

“Absolutely.” He was looking at me with the most salacious expression. Then I realized he’d completely distracted me.

“Nicely done,” I said, crossing my arms. “You managed to avoid answering my question. Well played.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that.” He sat up¸ resting his arm on his bent knee. “Go on, ask away. I can’t even remember what the question was.”

“Liar,” I said, trying not to sound sulky. I stared at him until he cracked.

“Yes, I had planned to visit her in Ottawa.” He looked at me grimly, perhaps expecting me to flip out. I tossed his confirmation around in my mind, unsure of how I felt about it. I remained calm.

“But your plans fell through?”

“Yes. She came down with the flu. The swine flu, actually. She was quite sick.”

Thank God for pandemics
, I thought, then reprimanded myself. The swine flu was no laughing matter.

“Is she okay now?” I asked.

“As far as I know, she’s made a full recovery,” he said. “I haven’t spoken to her in a few weeks.”

“And do you talk to her a lot?”

He reached out to stroke my cheek. “Not nearly as much as I used to,” he said. “I called her the evening after we met at the Gardiner to let her know I hoped she was feeling better, but that I wouldn’t be rescheduling my visit.”

“Oh,” I said, my voice small and far away.

Daniel reclined against the pillows, and I followed him down. He gently pushed my hair away from my face.

“Listen,” he said firmly. “I was going to Ottawa to escape. I had to get away from a certain young lady. Everything I looked at, everything I did here reminded me of this girl. I wasn’t supposed to be thinking of her in the way that I was. Then my trip to Ottawa fell through, and I paid my parents a visit. Imagine my shock when the young lady was at my parents’ house. My resolve crumbled, and I knew there was no escaping her, no avoiding my feelings because I’d discovered she might feel the same way about me. I was happier that night than I’d been in months.”

My heart leapt into my throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It doesn’t matter. Sabrina doesn’t matter. Only you. You’re all that matters now.”

Sabrina was forgotten, and Daniel’s beautiful eyes, ablaze with longing, were all I could see.

“I should go in the other room right now and get the pull-out couch ready,” he said, tearing himself away.

No, no, no!

“Daniel, please don’t sleep on the couch. I want to fall asleep in your arms.”

“There’s no way I can stay in here.”

“Please don’t leave me in here by myself.”

He growled, torn. “If I’m staying in this bed with you, then we need to take
serious
emergency measures.”

“Such as?” I asked.

“Such as you covering up. I can’t be allowed anywhere near your incredible skin.” He dragged my top down over my hips.

Rolling onto my back, I took the two sides of the shirt and tied a knot at the bottom so he wouldn’t be able to sneak his hands underneath, then I tightly cinched the drawstring of the bottoms and triple knotted it.

“There. Fort Knox.” I smiled smugly.

“Don’t you mean Fort Knots?” he asked with a sly smile. “Either way, wholly ineffectual. I was a kick-ass Boy Scout. Knots were my specialty.”

“My goodness, sailor,” I said. “You’re so accomplished. Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Resist
you
.” He smirked and rolled off the bed. “I’ve got a brilliant idea, though.” He headed into his walk-in closet and rustled around inside. He came out holding a gaudy, hot pink sleeping bag.

“Very pretty. Tell me that didn’t get you in some hot water on Boy Scout camping trips.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Watch it, smartass. This is Penny’s. She bought it in December when Brad told her he wanted to take her up to our cottage. It’s never been used.”

“They didn’t go?”

“Oh, they went, but you don’t need sleeping bags up there. I don’t think Penny fully understood the concept of a
winterized cottage
.”

“Ah, I see.” I could only imagine what the Grant family cottage looked like. “So, how come you have it?” I asked.

“A few of her boxes got mixed in with mine at my mom and dad’s. So,” he said, unrolling the sleeping bag onto the bed with a flourish, “you sleep in here on top of the blankets. I’ll be underneath the blankets where I can’t get at you.”

“Daniel, you realize that’s absurd, right?”

“Hey, I’m serious. You want me to stay in here or not? I can’t be held responsible for what my hands do when I’m asleep. And God knows what mischief
you’ll
get up to. Humor me.”

He crawled back over to join me on the bed, kissing me playfully. I took his hands in mine.

“You could restrain me. Tie my hands to the bedpost so I can’t get at you.” I bit my lip and looked at him demurely.

“You little vixen,” he said, pushing me back against the pillows and lying beside me, trapping my hips with his leg. “I thought we were trying to figure out how to
avoid
getting carried away. But that sounds incredibly hot.”

His eyes hungrily searched my face.

“No one’s ever called me a vixen before,” I said. “There’s another V-word to add to the list—Venus, velvet…” Feeling playful and extremely sexy trapped under his thigh like that, I decided to live up to this new name, taking my fingers and placing them in a V against his lips. “And now vixen.”

He gently grasped my wrist, holding my fingers still and slowly licking down one finger and up the other.

Torrential rains officially upgraded to tsunami alert
.

“Daniel,” I breathed, shifting my hips under his leg.

He grasped my hands and clasped them above my head. Then he kissed me again, hot and wet and breathy.

I melted against him as he purged whatever demon was spurring him on. I struggled to free one of my hands, eager to touch his face, his hair, his thighs, his back. I wanted to scratch him again. But he held me still and worked his magic with his incredible lips before letting go of my hands and rolling onto his back, throwing his folded arms across his face.

“You’re killing me,” he groaned. “Get in that sleeping bag right now.”

“What?” I asked, rolling over to peek innocently under his forearms.

“Don’t play coy with me, Miss V.” He looked at me from under his arm. “Let me know when it’s safe to come out.”

I pouted and slid into the sleeping bag, pulling the thick fleece up under my arms.

“Okay. I’m in.”

He dragged himself to the edge of the bed. “I’m going to look at some pictures of geological rock formations, or something equally unstimulating, and then I’ll set the timer on the coffee maker. What time should we be up?”

“I’ll shower back at my place, if that’s okay? I should be back there by quarter to eight at the latest. Can you drop me off at Union Station at seven thirty?”

He nodded and then headed off to the kitchen while I folded my hands under my head, staring at the ceiling with a stupid grin on my face, basking in the glow of—well, not what I wished I was basking in, but I basked anyway. When Daniel came back into the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed beside me, fiddling with the alarm clock.

“You look adorable,” he said.

“I feel like a burrito.”

“Well, you certainly do look good enough to eat.” He kissed me chastely and crawled under the covers. He moved over to lie close to me and draped his arm across my stomach. “Can you reach the light to turn it off?” he asked.

I flicked the switch, and a deep darkness enveloped the room. I snuggled up against him, content.

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