All of Me (13 page)

The sound of her swallow rose over the waves as she remained focused on the stars. “Do you know anything about constellations?”

Constellations?

“No.” He rolled to his back, wanting to take her abrupt change of topic as a sign. They barely knew each other. It wasn’t as if there could be a future between them. Why bother getting into—

Screw it. “I was engaged once before.” Still was, if only in his head. “I don’t want to repeat my mistakes, Faith. That’s why I don’t get involved. Why I don’t date a woman for more than a night. Actually dating someone, even just for the summer, is a new experience, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Plus, he cared enough about Faith to not want to hurt her. It was a special talent of his, hurting people, and it seemed she’d already had enough of that in her short lifetime. He closed his eyes and drew in a lungful of air, not realizing he’d been holding his breath.

After a few moments, she took his cold hand in her warm one and squeezed. “I understand.”

His eyes flew open. “You understand?”

He sat up, but she remained inclined, her dark hair fanned around her head in the sand. Why didn’t she probe him for answers? Demand to know what happened to his fiancée? Christ. She was from another fucking planet. Even
a stranger would want to know the gory details. People were like that by nature. Curious.

Faith didn’t follow the pattern on anything. It was as if she didn’t care or lacked the genetic makeup to connect.

“Yes, I understand. I’ve never been close to marriage, but if I had and it ended badly, then I would be hesitant to enter into a relationship again.” She moved to sit, but instead of facing him, she turned toward the water. “Commitment takes a lot of trust, and if that trust breaks, it’s hard to get it back, even with someone else.”

When he didn’t answer because he couldn’t, she turned her head his way. Weariness and acceptance looked back at him through amber eyes so soft he felt the shift all the way to his toes. For the zillionth time, she’d proven him wrong. Faith didn’t feel nothing. She felt everything. An empath of sorts, able to put herself in other’s shoes and feel their emotions.

No wonder she was afraid to live. He would be, too.

How had little Faith Armstrong, sheltered from the world and struggling in her own skin, manage to nail his feelings down as if she’d taken up residence in his head the past nine years? Yeah, she’d only gotten it half right, because she didn’t know the whole story, but damn it.

He swallowed the boulder in his throat. Guilt he understood, and it was running rampant in his gut.

“You’re angry again.”

He shook his head.

“It’s getting late. I should head back inside.” She stood and brushed the sand off her body.

He fisted his hands. “I wasn’t angry, but I am now.”

Her confused gaze darted to him and away. She crossed her arms and shifted her feet, her focus on the ocean. “I’m sorry.”

Anger went from simmering to boiling over. To give himself time, he stood and brushed the sand from his jeans. “Sorry,” he repeated, his head about to explode. She was
always walking away from him, with her mantra of
It’s getting late
or
I’m sorry
or—damn the word all to hell—
Oh
.

But this time around she said nothing as she turned to leave.

“You really know how to bruise a guy’s ego, Faith.”

She turned. “I don’t understand, Alec. You’re angry. I’m leaving.”

“I’m angry because you’re leaving.” Well, hell. That came out wrong. “Could you stop walking away from me anytime I display a semblance of emotion?”

She pressed her palms over her eyes. “What am I supposed to do? To say? I don’t know how to fight.”

Her hands came down and a spark of anger shone in her eyes, rocking him back on his heels. This was the first time he’d seen her even close to mad. It was hot. Damn hot.

She sighed. “And I don’t know how to behave around you. Everything winds up making you upset.”

Shit. Was that how she saw it? That wasn’t his intention. “The only thing I want you to do or say or be is yourself, but with less leaving the second things start to get serious.”

Did he just say that? He rolled the words back through his mind and . . . yeah. He had. He’d just told her to stick around. What the fuck was happening to him? Sometimes talking to her was like trying to teach a two-year-old organic chemistry.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Couples fight.” Don’t they? “And just because I’m mad doesn’t mean it’s targeted at you.”

Besides, angry sex was hot. If they ever got to the sex part. He wanted to. Really, really badly. Yet this force she had around her—the one sucking him in willingly—should be holding him back from getting in too deep. Except it was having the opposite effect. Instead of getting hot and heavy between the sheets, they . . . talked.

She stared at him, on the precipice of running again, he could tell. To her credit, she didn’t. This time, she walked
closer, until her breasts flattened against his chest and they were thigh to thigh. She smelled good enough to eat. That sugary signature scent that was solely hers rose up over the breeze as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

It was the first time she’d initiated contact. He liked it, the way she’d finally surrendered, so he dropped a kiss on her forehead.

“You always smell so good.” He buried his face in her hair and inhaled. “Like cupcakes and vanilla. It drives me crazy.”

“It must be my lotion.” Her voice quivered as he trailed his fingers down her throat. “Or body spray . . .”

Alec cut her off with a kiss, long and deep and languid. His hands drove into her hair and pulled the band out to run his fingers through the soft strands. The sweet scent intensified, as did his hard-on.

He pulled away and smiled at the drugged arousal he put in her eyes. It turned their color from amber to a deep golden brown. “I like looking at the front of you better than the rear. Not that you don’t have a great backside.” His hands drifted to cup her bottom to emphasize his point. “Please quit tucking tail and running. I’d rather be kissing you than thinking about doing it while I’m alone in my house.”

Faith didn’t know what to make of it, but she and Alec had gotten into a comfortable routine the past week. She worked with Ginny during the day, while Alec slept back at his guesthouse. After dinner, he’d come over to her place. They’d talk or watch movies or read—like they were doing at this moment—with her reclined on the couch and her feet in his lap. After a few hours, Alec would take off for home and write most of the night while Faith slept.

They were like night and day. Oil and water. Yet this system worked. They . . . fit.

But aside from making out, Alec hadn’t made a move toward the bedroom. Every time things heated up and she was sure he would finally get her naked, a switch flipped and he backed off. It was disconcerting, to say the least. She wasn’t beautiful in any sense of the word—instead of sexy curves, her body had . . . edges—but she’d never considered herself unattractive. Alec had been in town a month, same
as her, and he hadn’t been with anyone else that she was aware of. He had needs. So why wasn’t he sating them?

Faith had spent most of her life unsure of herself, and being with Alec—or not, in this case—was making her even more uncertain. She was sure he wanted her. His reactions were obvious. So, why didn’t he take them there?

Sighing, she tried to refocus on the book she was reading. It was the second book in Alec’s Hacked series. She’d read it twice before. The third and last book in the trilogy was the one they were attending the release party for in New York tomorrow night.

Alec peeked at her from over the book he was reading—a romance she’d picked out for him. He was loathe to comply, but did it with only minor grumbling. Faith had hoped it would spark some interest in getting frisky. So far all he’d done was caress her calf.

“You sighed,” he said. “What’s wrong? You don’t like the book? Which part?”

She smiled. “You know you’re a good author. Don’t fish for compliments.”

He set the book down on his lap. “It matters to me if
you
think I’m good.”

She had no way to gauge how seriously that statement was to be taken, so she stared at him before speaking. The tone of his voice was hesitant, his eyes bordering on pleading. He wasn’t looking for an ego boost. He was seeking her opinion, and that opinion mattered.

She tucked her feet under her legs and sat up. “I don’t think you’re good. I think you’re one of the best horror writers to hit the market in this generation, which makes you great. I’ve read this book twice before.”

Turning slowly to face her, he propped his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers inches from her face. “That means a lot, you saying that. Thank you.” The coarse gravel of his voice indicated he’d been touched by what she’d said.
He looked around the room and patted her thigh. Like a pet. “Are you all packed for tomorrow?”

They’d only be gone one night. Packing didn’t require much effort. “Yes. All except my dress for the party. Lacey’s bringing one of hers for me to wear.”

He was treating her like a friend, not like someone he intended to sleep with or someone he found attractive. Faith’s heart fell somewhere near her stomach. She shouldn’t be disappointed, yet the feeling swamped her anyway. Hurt laced her throat. For once, she’d felt wanted when he’d kissed her. Desired. Not looked over and passed by. What had changed in the last couple days?

When a knock sounded at the door, Faith was relieved by the interruption. On the other side of the doorway stood Mia and Lacey, huge grins on their faces. Some of the tension drained just from seeing her friends.

Lacey held up a garment bag on a hanger. “One sexy cocktail dress, at your disposal.”

Faith didn’t remember saying it had to be sexy. She’d simply asked if Lacey had one she could borrow, not wanting to go shopping for a dress she’d probably never wear again.

Mia and Lacey strode inside, but halted when they saw Alec.

Mia turned. “I’m sorry we interrupted. We didn’t realize you had company.”

Grinning, Alec stood. “I was just leaving anyway. Early flight tomorrow.” He walked over to Faith and kissed her lightly on the mouth. Hardly a peck. “I look forward to seeing you in the quote ‘sexy cocktail dress.’”

“We’ll only need Faith for an hour or so,” Lacey said. “You can come back. Spend the night. Continue where you left off.”

Jeez. Subtle, Lacey was not. Besides, if they continued where they left off, Faith would finish reading the book and Alec would be snoring next to her.

Alec’s grin widened when he looked back at Faith. “I’ll
see you in the morning.” He kissed her forehead this time—
her forehead
—and left.

“I’m sorry,” Mia said. “Did we ruin your night?”

“No, no.” Faith waved her hand, surprised by the tears blurring her vision.

“Oh, sweetie.” Lacey draped an arm over her shoulders and squeezed. “What’s wrong? What did Alec do? Should I send Jake to beat him up?”

Faith breathed out a laugh. “Thank you, but no. It’s nothing.” Except this nothing hurt. A lot. She’d known from day one she wasn’t the right match for Alec, but she didn’t listen to that internal voice. His actions belied his words. One minute hot, the next lukewarm. “He won’t have sex with me.”

Mortified, she sat on the couch and covered her face with her hands.

“That would make me cry, too,” Mia said, trying to lighten the mood. She put her hand on Faith’s knee and squatted down in front of her. “What do you mean, he won’t have sex with you? I thought things were going well. Isn’t that the whole basis of your relationship? Just fun for the summer?”

Faith wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed. Leave it to her to ruin even a no-strings relationship. “I don’t know what’s going on. Every time things heat up, he . . . stops.”

Lacey sat next to her and passed a tissue. “Has he said anything?”

“Just that he wanted to take things slow.”

Lacey snorted. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” She looked at Mia for guidance.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Faith said. “Alec Winston doesn’t do slow. He doesn’t do commitment. Which is the problem. If he really wanted me, he would’ve had me by now.” He sure acted like he wanted her.

Mia sat on the coffee table in front of Faith and leaned forward. “Alec also doesn’t spend this much time with one
person. He’s been over here every night. I’ve seen him walking over.”

“I know just what you need,” Lacey said. “Come on. We’re going shopping.”

“Now?” Faith looked between the two of them. “It’s almost eight.”

“The mall closes in an hour. We need to hurry.”

The next thing Faith knew, she was standing in a lingerie store having an uncomfortable stare down with a mannequin wearing a blue thong. “This is a bad idea.”

“No, it’s not,” Lacey assured. “You’re going to be spending the night in Alec’s apartment in New York. Let’s give him a little incentive to speed things along. Something in this store will surely make him want to jump your bones.”

“It’ll make you feel good, too,” Mia added. “Trust me. Cole goes gaga over this one set of red satin—”

“Eww! Hello? That’s my brother.”

Faith sighed. It wasn’t like she wore granny panties, not that Alec had even seen if she had, but lace and silk were a little out of her comfort zone. Boy shorts, thongs, bikini trim, hip-huggers . . . it was all so silly. If Alec wanted to be with her, she shouldn’t need this stuff.

But as she followed Lacey and Mia through the store, a yellow bra-and-panty set caught her eye. It was completely lace and cut in an old forties style, the material soft with rounded trim for comfort. She tried to picture herself wearing it and the look on Alec’s face. Wondered how the lace would feel against the sensitive areas of her skin. Her cheeks heated.

“Oh! I like that.” Lacey shoulder-bumped her. “Mia, this one?”

Mia made her way over. “Yes. Elegant and hot.”

“What are you going to sleep in?” Lacey asked.

“Uh . . . my pajamas?”

Mia grinned. “If the lingerie does the trick, she won’t be sleeping in anything.”

“You’d be able to wear this under that dress I gave you.” Lacey fished through the hangers. “What size are you?”

Faith fisted the pendant around her neck and slid it back and forth on the chain. She gave Lacey her size and prayed they didn’t laugh. Mia and Lacey had slender, but curvy frames, whereas Faith was lean. Her chest size was especially pathetic. Hope had gotten all the good genes in the family. Faith had gotten the leftovers.

What would Alec do if he had the chance to strip off her dress after the party? She felt shockingly inadequate already—she didn’t think she could handle disapproval in his eyes. She had so little experience when it came to men. Alec had experience in spades. Could she even satisfy him? Would she even know what to do?

“You know what?” Faith croaked. “It’s okay. We don’t need to go to all this trouble.”

But her new best friends didn’t listen. Faith walked out of the store with not only the yellow lace bra-and-panty set, but a pale blue and a black one, too.

*   *   *

Between the flight and the taxi ride to his apartment, Alec had asked Faith a dozen times what was wrong. She didn’t know how to answer. What had been a comfortable mix of conversation and silence this past week had morphed into just silence. She felt the shift in him, too. She’d caught him darting quick glances at her during the flight, only to hastily look away when she noticed. The casual way he’d touched her arm or hand while they were alone back in Wilmington hadn’t followed them to New York.

Deciding to make the most of her trip despite the unsettling shift between them, she looked out the window as their taxi wove its way through traffic. New York was loud and busy, completely unlike the quiet beauty of Wilmington. Everywhere she looked there was asphalt and rushing pedestrians and flashing lights. Sirens and shouting. She wondered
how Alec got any writing done here, even in his apartment. How did people breathe here?

The taxi pulled to the curb of a massive structure where doormen were waiting to be needed and concrete lion statues perched at the entrance. The building looked old and pristine among the chaos of the city.

“This is it,” Alec said, as if asking approval.

Unsure of what to say, because this apartment didn’t seem to suit him any more than the city, she forced a smile and made to exit the car. Alec grabbed their bags and nodded to the doormen, who addressed him by name.

Inside the lobby, which was full of white marble and brass, she followed Alec to a bank of chrome and glass elevators and waited. He had yet to make eye contact. The ride upstairs was just as tense as in the cab, and by the time they stepped off the elevator to the door of his penthouse, Faith was ready to catch a flight home.

Though she didn’t know him all that well, and though they had just arrived, Alec seemed like a different person here. Tense and abrasive. Not at all like the laid-back, gentle man she knew in Wilmington. She wondered if this was how he wrote about such darkness, by living in this place and feeding off its energy. He’d written countless bestsellers, after all. Something besides his gift had to fuel the stories.

He set their bags down and unlocked the door. “Listen, I have to warn you. I made a terrible choice in interior decorators a while back.”

She stepped into the foyer. “I’m sure it’s not that . . . bad.”

It was that bad. No, it was worse.

The walls were dark gray. The leather furniture red. And was that a . . . yes. A life-sized sculpture of a claw. Glass-top tables and horror movie posters.

“Wow,” she whispered.

Alec dropped their bags by an entry table and groaned. “I warned you.” He glanced around, as if trying to see it through
her eyes. “It’s nightmarish all right. I keep intending to have it fixed.”

“
Can
it be fixed?”

He laughed. “I’ll call someone after Jake’s wedding.”

After the wedding. When he’d be moving back.

She shook her head and forced the unpleasant thoughts away.

To her left was the kitchen. Pretty spacious, considering. Black appliances, granite counters. To the right was a short hallway with three doors.

“Come on,” Alec said. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

The office was clean and sensibly organized. Surprising, because she figured most authors had Post-it Notes and clutter. A plush corduroy sofa lined one wall. Several bookshelves stood against the other. Under the window and facing the door was a large L-shaped desk made out of what looked like mahogany. She didn’t get a good look at any of his pictures because Alec was already moving on to the next room.

“Bathroom,” he pointed out, striding past. “And this is the bedroom.”

At his insistence, she stepped inside. Hardwood floors. Four-poster bed. Private bathroom. The walls were a smoky blue, darn near close to his eye color. The curtains and bedspread were a navy striped pattern. This room suited him. Masculine and easygoing.

She walked to the bay window and looked out at the view. Thirty floors below them, the city bustled and jived, but this high up they were above the noise. Part of her unease settled and released from her shoulders.

Alec came up behind her and set his hands on her hips, pulling her back flush with his chest. His lips settled over her ear, causing her to shiver.

Inhaling, he moaned. “I couldn’t wait to get you alone. It’s been hard keeping my hands to myself.”

She curled into him like a cat. It felt like forever since
he’d touched her. The heat from his body and the scent of him caused her heart to flutter. Her breathing uneven, she made herself ask, “Why did you keep your hands to yourself?”

“I wanted to give it a little time. You’re not the kind of woman I’m used to, Faith.”

She couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult. She wondered what he saw in her at all, besides convenience. Did she have anything in common with his other affairs?

She settled on a ploy of humor. “What did the other women you were with think of your apartment? Were they a little scared of the decorating, too?”

His fingers dug into her hips. “I’ve never brought a woman here. You’re the first.”