In Bed with Beauty (12 page)

He bent, rubbing his face against her soft curly hair. Inhaling deeply he closed his eyes and filed it away for a time when he’d be alone.

“Will you have time next week to go to the homeless shelter with me?”

“I’m finished with my job on Friday,” he said abruptly.

She stiffened her fingernails digging into his chest. He reached up and pried them out of his skin, smoothing her hand against his chest. “I thought you’d be here until Thanksgiving. That’s still two weeks away.”

“Things went smoother than I’d anticipated.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Maybe.”

“Would you stay if I asked you to?”

He wasn’t sure. He hated being out of control and that’s exactly what he was around Sarah. He let the silence build between them. Sarah eased away from him and tugged the sheet up over her body.

He’d done it without even trying. He’d made her feel small and unworthy. He didn’t look at her. Refused to see the look he knew he’d put in her eyes.

“When will you know for sure?” she asked, her voice dull, lifeless.

God, he could be a bastard sometimes.

“We’re delivering eviction notices to the tenants tomorrow. If there aren’t any complications, I should know by Friday.”

“What exactly do you do?” she asked.

“I appraise commercial property for retail potential then negotiate a buyout and restructure the property for its maximum retail potential.”

“Why do you evict businesses?” she asked.

He didn’t want to talk about his job. Didn’t want to think about it right now. He was trying to make the most important decision of his life. One that he’d never have been able to make in the past. One that involved this woman, sitting as far from as she could on the king-size bed.

“They’re deadweight.”

“Deadweight?” she prompted. He knew she wasn’t really listening to him.

“Either they aren’t the right business for the new image or they aren’t maximizing their potential earnings.”

“So you just kick them out?”

“I don’t want to talk about my job.” He shoved his hands in his hair and rubbed his temples. He had the beginnings of a headache. Was this how his father’s problems had started? One little ache that he’d used as an excuse to not leave his room.

Harris remembered his dad locked in his bedroom for days on end when Harris was in middle school. Always with a headache. Screw that, Harris thought. He wasn’t going to fall prey to whatever weakness drove his father.

He turned Sarah’s face toward him. She kept her chin down and he tried to tip it up but she jerked her face away. “Talk to me, Sarah.”

“I’m afraid I can’t talk about anything else right now.”

Harris knew he was going to have to give her something. No, he wasn’t. He was going to have to give up something. The thing that he’d been using to protect himself from her. The thing that he’d been clinging to in order to keep himself from being hurt. And that thing was the one thing he’d vowed he’d never give up. His security wall around his emotions. “Honey, please don’t shut down on me.”

She blinked a bunch of times and sniffled, wrinkling the end of her nose. Knowing she was trying not to cry made him wonder what kind of crud he was. How did a man who spoke six languages fluently not know how to communicate?

“I can’t deal with this right now, Harris. I’ve had a big night. My Magic 8 ball is trapped behind my desk, I bought leather undergarments. I had kinky sex. And…you’re leaving.”

He tugged her into his arms, wrapped her tight in his embrace and lowered his head to brush kisses against her hairline. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you have a hard time with relationships. I know that you think they are all about obsession but I thought I was showing you that life could be different.”

“This isn’t really about you,” he said carefully.

“What?”

“I learned a long time ago that you can’t control the way someone else feels.”

“I realize that. I don’t think you know how you feel.”

“I know all right. I’m just not sure how to express it.”

“Tell me what you are feeling.”

“Never.”

“Harris, I give up.” She climbed out of bed. He watched her walking away and he knew that this was it. If he didn’t make some changes in his life, he’d never find the elusive dream that woke him sometimes in the middle of the night.

Nine

“S
arah, wait.”

She paused but didn’t turn around. She was on the verge of tears and she wasn’t sure of herself right now. She’d bared her soul to Harris and being the man he was, he didn’t even notice.

“Why should I?” she asked. A part of her wanted to shake him. To make him realize what they could have. Because the man who had spent most of November at her house, fitting into her family was one who could be her mate for life.

She heard the rustle of the bedcovers and the tread of his footsteps on the carpet. An instant before his hands touched her shoulders she felt his warmth all along her back. She wanted to lean back against him. To once again wallow in the protected state she’d been in earlier when he’d covered her body and made her feel cherished.

But she didn’t give in. Her own illusions had led her to this point and she wasn’t believing in the fairy tale any more. Fairy tales were for girls who spent the days looking out the window and waiting to be rescued. She was no man’s Cinderella and Harris had just proved it.

“I want to say the words that will make this right for you.”

For her?
What about making it right for them? She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Make what right? There aren’t any magic words I’m waiting to hear from you that will make me feel better.”

“Then what do you need from me?” he asked. His confusion was plain. He didn’t know what to say to make her feel good. And he’d said it earlier. He couldn’t really make her happy. Only she could do that. And she wasn’t even sure if she knew how to do it with him. She pivoted to face him.

She’d never seen him look more alone. He stood there naked and proud. A tough guy who needed no one and she saw her chance for a future with him dim.

She knew he wasn’t going to cave in and let her see the inside of his soul though that was what she wanted. Because she sensed the tender man under the tough outer shell. The man who needed some softness in his life.

“I don’t know. It seems every time I glimpse a part of the real Harris you shut me down and push me away. I’m not begging you for crumbs anymore. I deserve better. And so do you.”

He clenched his fists and jaw. She’d never seen him so angry. Not even when he’d discovered Ray fixing spaghetti in her house. “No, I don’t.”

“Why don’t you, Harris? Everyone is entitled to happiness.”

“Happiness is a pipe dream. Reality is contentment.”

“I’m not going to argue semantics with you. We have a chance for something special here. I know you feel it.”

“I do want you,” he said.

“Well if you want me I’m here.”

“I do.”

“Couldn’t prove it by me,” she said. She was tired of letting him trample on her heart. She’d never wanted to impress a man before. And he didn’t even seem to notice all the things she was doing for him. Maybe that was her problem, she should be doing them for herself.

“Want to go back to bed and I will,” he said, reaching for her. His big hand enveloped her shoulder and tugged her closer to him. She almost gave in but it felt too wrong now. What had felt supremely delicious earlier now felt…tainted.

“No, thanks, I’ve got a vibrator at home.”

He clenched his fists. She knew she’d gone too far but he’d hurt her. She’d let him do it and so she was partially angry with herself.

“Don’t ever belittle what we’ve shared like that again.”

“I’m still mad at you, but that comment was rude and I apologize for it.”

“Yes it was. I’m more than a stud to you. And you’re more than a night’s pleasure to me.”

“I know,” she said. “Which is why I’m leaving. I’m half in love with you and I’m not a masochist.”

“Dammit, woman,” he said, rubbing his forehead.

“You okay?” she asked.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “I’ve got a damned headache.”

“Do you get them often? You’re probably stressed out.”

“I’m not
stressed out.
Men don’t have that problem.”

What did men have? she wondered, but didn’t ask. Harris had some strange notions of what was acceptable behavior for men and what wasn’t. And there was nothing she could say to change his mind.

“Well, you’ve been working hard. Maybe you should take a few days off and rest.”

“Never,” he growled.

“Why not cut yourself some slack?” she asked, sensing she was close to finding the answers to the real trouble between them.

“Because that’s how it starts. A little headache, then staying in bed for a few days. Before you know it a month has past and you haven’t moved.”

“You’ve done that?” she asked. She couldn’t imagine someone as self-disciplined as Harris, lying in bed all day. He’d go crazy after the first hour or so.

“No.”

Suddenly she realized where this was leading. “Your dad?”

“Yes.”

“Harris, you are not your dad. I think I’ve said that before.”

“You have. I know that. But no one has ever affected me the way you do, Sarah.”

“Oh, Harris,” she said, her heart breaking for the lonely life he’d lead.

“Don’t say my name like that. I don’t want pity from you.”

As if she’d pity him. He was too self-confident. Too sure of himself to elicit pity from her. “Pity is the last thing I feel for you.”

“What do you feel for me?” he asked.

She bit her lip. She wasn’t going to bare her soul. “Too much. Which is why I’m leaving now.”

“Please don’t go,” he said. There was something in his voice that made her believe he needed her caring and affection. That made her want to stay and convince him love was real.

“I need more than the hope that someday you’ll care about me. We’ve been down this road before.”

“My dad is the reason I can’t stay,” he said.

That was a cop-out and he knew it. She saw the knowledge in his eyes. She felt achy and vulnerable and didn’t want to say something mean again but knew cruel words hovered on the edge of her tongue. She loved Harris, she realized. It wasn’t just a passing fancy or a spicy hot affair but deep affection and a connection that went so deep inside her she knew when he left she’d never be free of him. “Can’t or won’t?”

“What’s the difference?” he asked. She sensed he was stalling for time.

A big part of her understood that he was afraid of turning out like his dad. She could rationalize his behavior but it didn’t stop her from wanting to shake him. Make him wake up and see that they had a chance at something really great. Because she’d never connected with another person the way she had with Harris.

“Do you really think you’ll lock yourself in my bedroom?” she asked at last.

He raised one eyebrow at her. “Maybe not at first. But you deserve better than a guy who’s afraid to let down his guard.”

“Do you want to let it down?” she asked.

“Hell, yes.” The sincerity in his eyes. The way he reached for her and then dropped his hands convinced her that there was a future for them. She could keep loving him, keep working to convince him that the darker side of love—obsession—wasn’t waiting for him.

“That’s enough for me, Harris,” she said, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him.

“It shouldn’t be. You’re so used to working all the time and settling for any attention that you think I’m worth your time.”

She struggled to understand what he was saying. Why would he think he wasn’t worth her time? She was the one who ran a small failing restaurant. Probably one that Harris would classify has dead weight if he was taking over her strip mall.

“I’m not settling for anything.”

“Then ask me again to stay. Really ask me, don’t hedge or give yourself a way out.”

She took a step closer to him. “Will you stay with me until you have to go to Tokyo? Then when your business brings you back to the States, come here?”

“Yes,” he said, the word barely a whisper. Then he lowered his mouth and kissed her. She tried to tell herself that it was only passion she felt in his embrace but she thought it might be tinged with desperation, which worried her.

Sarah’s office was too small for his taste but it suited her. She was playing Moby on her CD player and talking on the phone to one of her food distributors. There was nothing the least bit sexual about her at this moment but he was turned on all the same.

Her hair was pulled back at the nape but the image of her last night with her thick curls floating around her shoulders and that naughty leather bustier stayed in his mind. He reached for the clip and unfastened it. Tossing it on her desk, she gave him a look that told him to keep his hands to himself but he shrugged at her.

Taking the thick mass of her hair in his hands, he combed through it with his fingers until it was once again the way he remembered it.

She swiveled her chair to face the wall. Propping one hip on her desk, he toyed with the hem of her skirt. Slipping his hand up her thigh. She put her hand on top of his stopping the upward movement of his touch. He settled for tracing a pattern on her inner thigh and was rewarded when she shifted restlessly on her chair.

Sarah ended her conversation. “Don’t you have anything to do today?”

“Nope. I’m all yours.” He felt light in a way he never had before. He didn’t want to examine it or delve too deeply into it because he knew that he’d have to pay for feeling this good, but right now that didn’t seem to matter.

It was a crisp November day for Florida. Highs in the sixties and the woman he was involved with was smiling at him in a way that made the sun seem dull. He felt for the first time that he was actually in the right place. In a place where he belonged.

“All mine?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She straightened his tie, which he knew was not askew and then smoothed her hands across his shoulders. “Turn around.”

“Why?”