Working on a Full House (32 page)

Cherise only smiled, enjoying the fizzing after-effects of her astounding orgasm, frankly relishing the feel of Kenny's big naked body weighing down her own.

She probably would have lain there all day, not processing the true significance of what Kenny had just said, if he hadn't clarified.

"I don't suppose you were using anything, were you?" he remarked.

Still smiling, Cherise blinked. What?

"Birth control," Kenny explained. "I didn't use any. Did you?"

Cherise drew her face out from the happy place where she'd been smiling against Kenny's shoulder. She stared up at him. "No," she said. Meanwhile, her own answer echoed wildly in her head. No?
No?!

"It's okay." Kenny's eyes were dark and soothing. Releasing a happy-sounding sigh, he said, "I wanted to marry you, anyway."

"What?!" Cherise twisted out from under him, her shoulders rising to the back of the sofa, her gaze wild-eyed. "
What
?"

"I love you," Kenny replied calmly. "I want to get married."

Cherise knew she was still wild-eyed. She'd just had unprotected sex. But a marriage proposal was even scarier. "We can't get married." Adrenaline poured through her veins.

Kenny tilted his head.

Cherise groped for a reason. "You're white."

He grinned widely. "You'll have to come up with something better than that."

Yes, she would, and she could. No problem. There were about a thousand reasons they couldn't get married. If only her addled brain could come up with one of them — "We have completely different goals in life."

"I don't
have
a goal in life."

"Precisely!" Cherise pushed against Kenny's chest.

Grinning like an idiot, he straightened, allowing her to climb off the sofa.

"You aren't the least bit serious about anything." Cherise scooped her silk wrap off the floor and stuck one arm into a sleeve. "Including getting married."

"Ah, now, that isn't fair." Sitting on the sofa, Kenny watched with undisguised fascination as Cherise struggled to get her nude body covered by her twisted wrap. "I told you, Cherise, I love you. I adore you. I want to be together with you all the time. And if I've made you pregnant — "

"You did not make me pregnant." Cherise said this with more determination than accuracy, however. Conception was a distinct possibility. Swearing privately, she finally found the other sleeve of her wrap, and managed to close it around herself.

"All right, forget that part," Kenny conceded. "In fact, I'd prefer you to forget it. So you understand this isn't something I think I have to do. I want to."

"You're crazy."

"We could have a ball," Kenny went on. "You and me. We're like — I'd take you everywhere." Naked, with his arms laid over the back of the sofa, he regarded her with shining eyes. "Just like the mink coats. I'd help you experience things you never even thought of experiencing."

"I don't want to experience things I've never thought of experiencing." The silk wrap wasn't enough. Cherise still felt naked.
They hadn't used birth control
.

"We'll go on the European Poker Tour." Kenny's face managed to get more animated. "I'll show you London, Barcelona, Monte Carlo."

"How would we do that?" Cherise hugged her arms over her breasts. "I have a job, here in Palmwood."

Kenny waved a hand, as if he could dismiss her job — and her whole life — in one motion. "Let me show you the world, Cherise. Let's do everything. Live it."

"I am living it," Cherise returned. "Right here."

"Come on, baby." Kenny got up from the sofa. He really
was
white, Cherise saw, with butter cream skin and even the thatch of hair at his crotch a reddish blond. She felt an inner thud of arousal, despite the anxious beating of her heart.

"You know we're good together," Kenny coaxed, walking toward her. "I help you have fun."

"Fun." Cherise took a discreet step back from him. "Life is not about fun."

"Maybe it should be more about fun, for you." Kenny's smile faded. A line creased the space between his brows.

Cherise took another step back. "I'm in charge of my own life, thank you very much, and it's just as 'fun' as I need it to be."

"Is that right?" Kenny rested his weight on one leg. A sly eyebrow arched. "Then how did we end up tangled on your sofa a few minutes ago, darling? For that matter, why did you bother to meet me at Norman's Art Supply two weeks ago?"

Cherise had no answer to either one of these questions. Clearly, she'd been out of her mind. Definitely still out of her mind, since the picture of him, muscled and nude with his weight on one hip made her itch with longing.

There was nothing to do but launch a counter-attack. "Okay, fine. You say we're good together. Then how about staying right here in Palmwood? Instead of haring off on a European poker tour, how about you get a real job and bring home a regular paycheck?"

Kenny's smug expression froze.

"Huh," Cherise said, feeling smug, herself, now.

"That wouldn't be the same," Kenny said.

"No?"

His lips flattened. "My settling into a nine-to-five job would not be the same as you coming to Europe with me. You would
enjoy
that."

Cherise's eyes widened. "Says you!"

"Says me. You
would
. But you can't stand to consider giving up control. You want it to be
your
job, with
your
paycheck, so
you
can dictate everything that's going to happen."

"Excuse me?" Cherise was staring at him, gape-jawed.

"Oh, yes." Kenny's smile was hard. "You insist on writing the script. You know why you're thirty and single, doll? Because you aren't willing to let go of one iota of control."

Anger beat right along with Cherise's thumping heart. "Is that right?" she crooned. "Is that what you've figured out? And do you know why you're thirty-five and divorced three times? Because you don't know how to commit. You won't take anything seriously, least of all yourself."

His eyes were like cobalt laser beams. "I just
said
I wanted to get married. Isn't that commitment?"

"Not the way you do marriage — and not the way you proposed." Cherise waved an arm. "You didn't for one minute think I'd say yes. You were
counting on me to turn you down
." A weight settled in Cherise's chest. Until she'd said it, she hadn't realized how true this was.

"That's nuts," Kenny said, very softly.

Cherise shook her head. "You wanted me to turn you down so you could release yourself from responsibility for what we did here on the sofa. Because you would just hate to actually have to take responsibility, to have anyone really count on you."

Kenny's nostrils flared.

Cherise didn't wait to hear what he might attempt to say in reply. She doubted he had a reply; her comment had been too true. He didn't want to get married. Or stay married. He just wanted to be able to pass off responsibility — say he'd done the right thing — if he had, indeed, gotten her pregnant.

"I'm going to get ready for work now," she told him. "If you will excuse me."

Their eyes met. Now was the time, if Kenny meant to disagree with her conclusion, to claim he was serious, after all. But he didn't say a word. He didn't move a muscle. He just looked at her with the bitter gaze of a man who'd been too well pegged.

Unfortunately, her triumph only helped to prove his own point, about her need to grasp control. She'd just done so, with great skill.

With acid in her veins, Cherise swirled and stalked down the hallway. Her back itched, as if feeling his gaze spearing between her shoulder blades. But she didn't turn around.

Five minutes later, from her bedroom, she heard the front door open and close. He was gone.

~~~

Dawn was a gray stain on the curtains in the guest bedroom. Valerie woke gradually, blinking while she worked out where she was, and remembered what had happened. The emotional equivalent of a blush swept through her.

She was in Roy's bed and they'd made love the night before.

God.

She felt her heart speed up and a true blush warm her face. Had they
really
— ? After all her attempts not to — ?

Not that she was complaining, mind you. It had all been
wonderful
.

However...

Valerie swallowed. However...they weren't supposed to have done this. They were supposed to have kept their relationship platonic, the way
she
had decided it ought to be.

But they hadn't...because of her.

Valerie bit her lower lip. Lying there, anxiously wondering if she'd done something terrible, she slowly became aware of a warm and unfamiliar weight on the curve of her waist.

Roy's arm. Part of his leg, she could now feel, was positioned with casual possessiveness over her ankle. Her breath whooshed out. He was holding her. Tenderly, possessively holding her.

Relief swept away Valerie's anxiety. If he was still holding her, then maybe it hadn't been such a big mistake, after all.

She drew in several more deep breaths, relishing the feel of his arm about her. She grew calm enough to realize it was dawn, well into the morning. Late night call or not, she had to be at the office by eight.

"Damn," she muttered. She took a moment more to savor her situation, then tried to wiggle out from under Roy's arm.

She didn't get far. The arm laid over her waist tightened.

Oh
, Valerie thought, and twisted to look at him.

Stormy gray eyes gazed back at her.

Her heart went galloping. Wow. What a...look. "Um. Hi," she whispered.

His voice was gruff. "Where are you going?"

"I — I have to take a shower, get dressed." Valerie tried to smile, but he wasn't smiling back.

It took a while, but finally his hold on her loosened. "Oh," he said. "You have to go to work."

"I'm afraid so." Valerie did her best to inject her voice with the regret she actually felt.

Whether he heard that or not, she couldn't tell. Slowly, he released her.

"Um, thanks," Valerie breathed. But as Roy continued to stare at her, it reminded Valerie, forcibly, of her nude state. Out of bed now, she bent to scoop her pants and blouse from the floor, then held them in front of herself in a rather ridiculous show of modesty.

"You're beautiful," Roy said.

Her head came up. "Uh..." She could feel the warmth of her blush from her forehead to her toes. "Well..." What could she say? What could adequately express all the confusion and hope she felt about the situation?

Knowing she couldn't think of a thing, Valerie simply leaned down and kissed him, short, firm, and, hopefully, meaningful.

As she drew back from the kiss she saw something flicker in his eyes, something fleeting and fierce.

She wished she could simply ask: Are you happy or sorry about last night? Did it mean to you what it meant to me? She was way too afraid to ask anything of the kind.

"Ahem." She cleared her throat instead.

His eyes changed back to opaque. "Can we meet for lunch?"

Valerie's mouth opened. "Lunch?" What the heck did a lunch date mean? Did he want to discuss what had happened? Rue it? Or...did he want something very different, something maybe even kind of wonderful?

She cleared her throat again and tried to sound casual. "Lunch? Oh, sure."

There was another flicker of the fierceness in his eyes before he reached up to put his hand around the back of her head. He pulled her toward him for a brief, firm, and seemingly meaningful kiss.

Valerie had to drag her eyes back open. Once she was able to see again, their gazes met with a snap. "Lunch," Valerie murmured, and licked her lips. Roy's gaze back at her was stark, but she thought she understood it as she straightened and took a step back, smiling. "Sure. Lunch."

Still naked, but now barely conscious of the fact, she walked out of the room and up the stairs, all the while smiling. Because maybe, just maybe, she did understand him pretty well, after all.

If he loved her, then maybe she did.

~~~

Roy stood in the foyer of Valerie's pretty little house and held back the curtain from the narrow window by the door. The tail end of her Acura disappeared down the road under an overcast April sky. Meanwhile, his stomach felt like it was tying itself into a big, tight knot.

If he'd hoped for one minute things could go back to how they'd been before last night, the past hour with Valerie as she got ready for work had put that notion to rest. He'd felt antsy and on edge, itching to lay some kind of claim on her. An emotional claim — if there was such a thing.

With a muttered oath, Roy let the curtain fall back into place. His stomach continued its knotting activity as he turned away from the window. He was both relieved she was gone, and already missing her. Hell.

Roy's hands clenched into fists as he walked through the formal dining room. Something told him he ought to be jumping into his car and driving away as far and as fast as he could. That would be the safe thing to do. Probably the sane one.

Coming to a stop beside the square window that looked onto the backyard, Roy released a snort. Yeah, that was the sane part of him thinking. The insane part of him was thinking he ought to go out and buy Valerie the very biggest diamond he could find.

That's right. A large and increasingly strident part of Roy demanded he ask Valerie to marry him, for real. Which just went to show how lethal the woman was. She made him...want things, things he'd never wanted or needed before he'd met her. And after last night, well, let's just say Roy found himself wanting even more.

"Damn," Roy muttered. He rested his hands on the sill of the window, but he didn't really see the two twisting oak trees or the stretch of grass outside. Instead he wondered just how a person went about convincing another person to marry him.

His eyes narrowed to slits. Despite his success in getting Valerie to let him stay at her house, despite his certainty he could have her in his bed anytime he wanted, he felt desperately unequal to a bona fide marriage proposal. That meant asking for something really big, as big as it got.