Body Image (Body Heat Series Book 2) (5 page)

I
wish
to God I’d never seen her that night at the club. I pretended her father’s reputation was my concern, but it was the thought of another man’s hands all over her that led to me marching her out of that damned place. And now I’ve got myself into one hell of a mess. Because I think about her every waking minute. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before and I’m miserable.

I toss my paperback copy of
The Killer Angels
onto the coffee table and stand up and stretch. I’ve been reading for two hours but I’ve only gotten through 30 pages. I’m a slow reader, but I’m not that slow. I thought the book would take my mind off of her. I should have known better. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since the one I spent with her wrapped in my arms.

So, why am I fighting it so damn hard? She’s not the kind of woman I pictured myself with, I know that. I always imagined I’d end up with an intelligent, hard working woman who clawed her way up from the bottom like I did. Not a fresh college graduate who only has to wish for something in order for it to magically appear.

I imagine taking Caroline out to dinner with clients and I cringe. Not because she isn’t intelligent and hard working, because I know she is. But at some point someone would ask how we met. Or someone would put two and two together and realize who her father is. And I could just imagine the looks we’d get when people realized I was her government-funded bodyguard since she was 16. My image needs to be beyond reproach, and I can’t figure out a way for that to happen with her on my arm.

I walk to the kitchen and grab a beer out of the fridge. I twist the cap off and throw some pasta into the microwave to reheat.

There’s something else that troubles me. Something darker that I don’t want to confront in myself. I never meant to sleep with her. And nobody bends me to their will. Ever. But when she was standing in front of me in heels and that little scrap of a thong, something snapped inside me. I needed her body like I’ve never needed anyone before. I thought fucking her once would get her out of my system, but it’s only made things worse. Every time I close my eyes I see those long legs, perfect tits, and slim waist. And it’s not just her body. It’s that warm laugh that rumbles in her throat. The way she listens intently when I talk. The way she holds me tightly when I wrap my arms around her.

“You’re such an idiot.” I’m alone, but it still feels good to say it out loud. I’m sitting here, pining for a woman who has made it clear she wants me. She’s smart, funny, engaging, and we had the most intense sexual experience of our lives together. All I have to do is pick up the phone and call her. By tomorrow I could be enjoying a fancy steak dinner in a local hotspot, instead of overcooked pasta in my lonesome palace.

My phone is on the counter top. Fully charged. Her number is programmed. I could be talking to her in thirty seconds. So why can’t I go over there and pick it up and dial? What’s stopping me from being happy.

You don’t trust yourself, that’s why.
It’s true. I never meant to make love to her the other night, but she bewitched me. And I know she would do it again. I’d be helpless and completely unable to resist her once I pick up the phone. I’m a rational man who likes being in control and I just can’t risk it. Unless. . .

I take a long draw from the cold bottle in my hand. My thoughts stir. Maybe there is a way to make this work. We’ll start slow and keep things under wraps until we know if this is just a physical attraction, or if there’s more to it. She won’t like it, but she’ll agree. I just need to be strong enough to hold up my end of the bargain and be willing to resist her. A smile passes over my face. Hell, it might even be fun.

I pick up the phone and I dial.

I
stare
at myself in the mirror, and I’m finally satisfied. It’s taken hours of painstaking preparation, but I can say, without a hint of ego, that this is the best I’ve ever looked.

The cocktail dress I selected for dinner isn’t completely demure, but it’s more conservative than I would usually wear. The black skirt hits below my knees, and the delicate black lace appliqués fully cover my décolletage and my arms above the elbow. I could be going to a funeral instead of a second date, but I’m not going to chance anything. Bayne’s cryptic phone call has me excited like nobody’s business. The hardest part will be keeping my cool when I finally see him again.

I tuck my hair behind my ears as I do a final quality control check in the hallway mirror. I thought of pulling it back in a chignon, but it took me years to grow it out this long. I’m rocking loose movie-star waves instead. I smooth out a rough edge of eyeliner with my pinkie. It took a full hour of painstaking make-up application to make it look like I’m naturally beautiful and not wearing any. I’d be exhausted, but the adrenaline coursing through my system has me on edge.

“Shit!” The doorbell rings and startles me. I draw back my shoulders and straighten my skirt. I grab my handbag as I step into my heels. There’s time for a deep breath before I answer the door.

Christ, he looks better than I remember. I love a man who can wear the hell out of a suit, and he’s owning the one currently draped over his muscles. He gives me a warm smile and extends his hand.

“You look exquisite, Caroline.” I give him my hand, and he pulls me close, kissing my forehead. He smells like soap and aftershave, and I could stand on my front stoop and nuzzle him all night. Too bad we have reservations.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I say as I dig my keys out of my purse and lock the front door. I turn back to him, and he offers me his arm and escorts me to his car.

“I can’t lie,” he says once we’re both buckled in and on the move, “I couldn’t wait to see you tonight.”

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot, too.” I cringe at the eagerness in my voice. If he knew how much time I’ve spent thinking about him, he’d be running for the hills. “I can’t wait to hear this proposal of yours. You’re driving me crazy with curiosity.”

“Well, I’m going to make you wait a little bit longer. I need a chance to fully charm you before I spring my crazy idea on you.”

I settle into the warm leather seat. “I never would have guessed you’re such a tease, tough guy.” He laughs and hits the gas as we exit the city.

“Where are you taking me tonight?”

“It’s a little farm-to-table place that is actually located on a farm. The owners converted an old stone stable on the property into a gem of a place. It’s fancy without being pretentious. Elegant without being stuffy. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will. I’m always up for trying something new. Have you eaten there before?”

“Yes. It just so happens I’m friends with the owner. He’s an old buddy from the service.”

“How far out of the city are they?”

“About 40 minutes. I hope you can handle being stuck in the car with me for that long.”

“I can’t imagine anything else I’d rather do.” Unless you counted rolling around naked with him under the covers. But I decided to keep that little tidbit to myself.

The sun was just starting to set as we raced along the country roads that carved through the hills. Brilliant red and yellow hues colored the fields and forests we passed. I was worried things between us might be strained or awkward, but conversation flowed easily the entire ride. It felt like hardly any time had passed before he was slowing at the sign for Harvest Grove. The gravel crunched under the tires as we navigated our way up the winding drive to the quaint stone building lit by tiny white lights on the shrubbery and trees. It looked like something out of the movies.

“It’s beautiful! I’m so glad you thought of this place.” He parks the car and escorts me to the entrance. The interior is just as charming as the exterior, and I smile as I take in the stacked stone, fancy white linens, and golden candlelight.

We’re seated at a prime table near the fireplace, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. Everything is going better than I had hoped. I order the miso black cod with kohlrabi and shiitake mushrooms; he selects the grass-fed steak with ramps and fingerling potatoes. I wait until bread and wine have been placed on our table before I start badgering him for more information.

“So, what is this proposal you have for me?” I look at him shyly from beneath my lashes. “The suspense is killing me.”

“Well . . .” He folds his hands on the table in front of him and considers his words carefully. “You’re a very beautiful woman. Extraordinarily so.”

“Thank you,” I say.

“But the downside to that is that I seem unable to control myself when I’m around you.”

“I seem to lose that ability as well, as I’m sure you noticed the other night.” I feel my cheeks redden, but I don’t care.

“The problem is, I need to feel in control. I know you think I’m stodgy and uptight and I need to loosen up a little. Maybe I do. I don’t know. Whatever I do, I need to do it slowly. And we’re just moving too fast.”

“And so you figured out a way we can move slower?” I don’t care what it is, I’ll do it. He’s all I want, and I’ll move heaven and earth to make him mine. He leans closer and lowers his voice. His brow is furrowed and he looks pained. I know I’m not going to like his idea before the words cross his lips.

“I want to date you, but we can’t have sex.”

“I beg your pardon?” My stomach drops and I struggle to keep my voice quiet.

He puts his hands up in defense. “Just for a month. That’s all I’m asking for. One month to slow things down and get to know each other as friends, to figure out if we’re compatible.”

“I don’t know what to say. I feel like I’m stuck in some crazy bizarro world where I have to beg a man to have sex with me.”

“It’s not like that at all. If I had my way, I’d do nothing but have sex with you all the time. We’d live in my bedroom and only come out for food and drink. But that’s the problem. I happen to have a business I’d like to maintain. So I need to keep my shit together and not lose my mind over you.”

I reach for my glass and take a long drink of water. I chew the ice cubes, a nervous habit of mine from childhood, while I consider his offer.

“Do you promise it will only be 30 days? No extending it?”

“Hand to God.” He holds up his massive hand like he’s ready to take the Eagle Scout oath.

“I suppose I can make it through 30 days of anything.”

“That’s my girl.” The server arrives with our entrées and interrupts our conversation. Everything looks amazing, and conversation drops off as we enjoy our food. I feel relief wash over me, and I can relax for the first time in days. He’s basically telling me I’m so hot he can’t stand it. That’s pretty much the most flattering thing he could have ever said.

“You said you know the owners. Do you know if they ever rent this space out for private events?”

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Nothing specific. I just like to keep a list of unique places on file in case the need ever arises. It’s always nice to dazzle donors with something they haven’t experienced before. And the rural setting would have a certain appeal for city dwellers.”

“Wait until they see the petting zoo.”

“Shut up! Do they really have animals?”

“They certainly do. I helped install some of the fencing around the pens back when Liz and Paul first bought this place.” He downs the rest of his wine. “I never would have guessed you to have a secret love for farm animals.”

“It’s not for me.” I take a bite of black cod and it melts in my mouth. “I’m pitching a community outreach idea to my boss. A way to get more kids into the museum who wouldn’t normally have the opportunity. We have an agricultural exhibit that would tie in nicely with a visit to somewhere like this place. I pitch the idea to the board of trustees next week, so cross your fingers.”

“I certainly will.” He looks at me with his warm brown eyes and I’m ready to melt.

“Can I ask you a nosy question?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you leave the army? You seem like the type of guy who would be a lifer.”

“That’s what I had planned on, but family obligations interrupted.”

“I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s okay. It was my mom. She found out she had cancer. Ovarian cancer. By the time they found it, it was already really bad. She didn’t have anyone else; it was just the two of us when I was growing up. I was an only child, and my dad hit the road when I was still in diapers. I applied for a hardship discharge so I could go home and take care of her, but it was denied.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s how I first met your dad. He tried to help me out. Worked with me on the paperwork and tried to help things along.”

I didn’t realize Bayne knew my father before he was assigned to me, but things were starting to click into place. “Is that how you ended up assigned to my detail?”

“Yeah. Once everything was finished with my mom, I needed a job. Your dad told me to call him once I was ready, so I did. A few short weeks later I was on your protective detail.”

“Did you get home to see your mom? In time, I mean?”

“I did. I took some time off that I had accrued to visit when I could. And I spent every last penny I earned making sure she had quality in-home care around the clock, but all I really wanted was to be there myself. She was a fighter. My term of service was up a few months later and I high-tailed it home.”

“I bet that meant the world to her.” I place my hand over his on the table.

“I like to think it did. We had some really good times together before she passed away.” He crosses his fork and knife and rests them on his plate. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so morose.”

“Don’t apologize. I lost my mom, too. I know what it’s like.”

“It was a car accident, wasn’t it?”

“A drunk driver clipped them when they were on their way to brunch. It was hard for me, but I don’t think my dad ever recovered. He can’t forgive himself for surviving.”

“Can I offer you any dessert?” The server appears out of nowhere with a selection of pastries under a glass cloche. “Our cheesecake is spectacular. Made with organic milk from the cows on site.”

“I don’t think we can say no to that,” Bayne says.

I agree. “I’m game if you are. Let’s split a piece.”

She returns a moment later with our confection and two forks. I dive in as soon as they hit the table.

“I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed an evening so much,” he says as he lays his fork on our empty plate.

“I can.” I flash him my best bedroom eyes. He takes my hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

“I think it’s time for me to take you home,” he says. “Before I’m tempted to break the rules I just got you to agree to.”