Her Fantasy Husband (Things to Do Before You Die) (12 page)

“Everything okay?”

She turned. Josh was naked and obviously unashamed. For once he wasn’t hard, though she did detect a little twitch as she stared.

Telekinesis?

“Fine,” she said. “Just my grandmother coming to visit. Don’t worry. Jean sent her away.” She sank onto the bed beside him. “I brought some ice cream.”

“Did you? You ever have a fantasy involving ice cream?”

“I might have done.”

“You want to share?”

She grinned and reached for the tub. “How about I show you this one.”

That evening, Josh was like a tornado rushing around the rescue center. Maybe he was in a hurry to get back.

“Come and see Toby,” Lexi said.

She opened the door of Toby’s run, and the dog approached her slowly, head down, tail drooping. He wasn’t doing well in the center. She thought about taking him home, but he was still in quarantine so she had a few more days to decide. She glanced at Josh. When the dog saw him, his tail started wagging, and his eyes perked up. “He likes you,” she said.

“Did you find his owner?”

“Yes. He’s been admitted to a hospice. They don’t think he’s going to last long. We’ll take Toby to see him tomorrow.”

Josh crouched down beside the dog, rubbed his head. “Poor fella. Lost the one person in your life. Welcome to the real world.”

“That’s a cynical attitude.”

“Realistic. What will happen to him? Will he be put down?”

“No. We don’t put any animals down here, unless they’re suffering and there’s no hope. We’ll try and find him a home, but it’s hard with older dogs. And he’s black.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I don’t know why, but they seem harder to re-home.” She looked to where he was crouching, the dog’s head resting on his thigh as Toby gazed up at him.

“You could take him,” she said.

Josh glanced at her, a frown drawing his brows together. “I don’t want a dog.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want the responsibility, and my loft is hardly suitable.”

“Toby wouldn’t mind.”

He gently moved the dog’s head and straightened. “I would.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Don’t start thinking of me as some sort of do-gooder. That’s not who I am. Or who I want to be.” He turned and walked out of the run, waiting for her while she gave Toby a last pat and followed him out.

“I’m not your fantasy husband, Lexi.”

She didn’t answer, couldn’t think of what to say.

“The sex is great,” he said. “But I’m not looking for more than that.”

“Neither am I.”

He raised an eyebrow. He clearly didn’t believe her. He obviously needed something more. “Look, I admit it. I’ve spent an awful lot of time thinking about having sex with you. But it never went further than that. I never swore eternal love or anything. And it’s clear we have absolutely nothing in common. The sex is fantastic, out of this world, but I don’t expect anything else, and I don’t want anything else.”

“Good.”

He didn’t sound as though it was good, though. He sounded…confused, his expression troubled.

“Come on,” she said, “let’s go—” She almost said “home,” but cut off at the last second. “Back to my place, and I can take advantage of you.” She grinned, and then waggled her eyebrows for effect. “How does it feel to be a sex object?”

Some of the tension went out of him. “After five years? Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Chapter Twelve

Josh woke slowly to a sense of well-being. This was the sixth morning he’d awoken in Lexi’s bed; it was starting to feel familiar and right. A little twinge of foreboding wormed its way into his mind. He ignored it, which was easy with Lexi curled up against him, all warm and soft. Her back was pressed to his front, his arm around her, one hand cupping her breast, his thigh thrown over hers.

He was already hard, and he eased back, reached behind him for a condom, rolled it on, and lifted her leg. Pausing, he nipped her neck with his teeth to wake her up—she wouldn’t want to miss this. She half-woke at that moment, and he squeezed her breast and then pushed inside her from behind. She was tight and wet and he filled her easily.

For a few seconds, he held himself deep inside her, savoring the feeling of rightness, and then he slowly withdrew. He slid his hand down over her stomach, through the soft curls that guarded her sex, and between her thighs to find the swollen nub.

She groaned as he stroked his finger lightly over her, then harder, keeping to the rhythm of his cock sliding in and out, slowly, no pressure, just the wonderful feel of her wrapped around him, the pleasure building, coalescing inside him. A shiver ran through her, her hips tensing, and then she came so sweetly for him, a sigh easing from her lips.

He released his control but kept his movements slow, letting the pleasure roll over him and drag him under.

Afterward he pulled her to him, curling her against him. They lay there for several minutes, until her breathing turned soft and slow.

“I love you,” she murmured.

He went still at the words, waiting for more, but she was already asleep. For a moment, something warm and tender twisted inside him. He shut the feeling down.

She’d been half asleep, not aware of what she was saying. Probably dreaming about some other, more suitable man. She didn’t love him. She didn’t even know him. Except he’d opened up to her more than he had to anyone else in his whole life. And his gut tightened at the thought.

This whole thing was fake. He couldn’t forget that. And in his saner moments—like when he dragged himself away from her so he could think with his head rather than with his cock—he knew he didn’t want more. He wasn’t capable of offering her more—he was damaged goods. The strange thing was, she knew that. He was pretty sure that’s where the attraction lay for her—she thought she was saving him.

Eventually, she’d realize there was nothing worth saving.

And where would he be then?

Exactly where he wanted to be, if he could only maintain his emotional distance. Forget all the “love” crap and in a few months he could walk away and get on with his life. Alone.

He shifted in the bed, unable to settle. He eased away from her, slid out from under the sheet, pulled on his jeans, grabbed a T-shirt, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. It was already 8:30, but they’d been awake half the night fulfilling fantasies. He’d added a few of his own to the mix.

He’d been neglecting work and needed to get into the office sometime today. Or maybe he needed to get away for a while. Get his head straight.

The kitchen was empty. Even Prudence was absent from her basket. He put on the coffee machine and sank into a seat at the kitchen table, wishing he had a cigarette. He hadn’t had one since he was ten years old and his mother had brought Evie back from the hospital. He’d made his mother give up smoking in the house as well, and she’d actually done the right thing for once.

I love you.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory of those traitorous words.

Lexi didn’t love him.

He wasn’t the sort of guy that women fell in love with. Hell, even his mother hadn’t loved him. Sometimes he’d been sure she hated him, had given Evie away because she knew it was the one thing that would hurt him the most.

Evie was the only person who had ever loved him, and she had no doubt forgotten him quickly. Children were like that. They gave their affection easily and forgot as fast. So Evie didn’t count.

Trouble was, Lexi was the sort of girl who couldn’t have sex without an emotional attachment. He’d known that from the start, which was why he’d fought this, tried to keep his distance.

Obviously not hard enough.

He scrubbed a hand over his hair, his fingers trembling. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn’t walk away and leave her in the lurch. And he didn’t think he could stick around and not have sex with her. Hell, he wanted her even now.

She’d been half asleep; she likely wouldn’t even remember what she’d said and would be horrified if he mentioned it. Maybe he should just pretend it never happened. But he could hear the soft words whispering in his ear.

Christ, just shut the fuck up.

If he stuck around, she would no doubt see him for what he was, a dead-end loser from a council estate in London, no education, no family…

God, he was a miserable bastard.

As he got up to pour a coffee, a car drew up outside the house, and he peered out the window. Lexi’s grandmother climbed out, and he swore under his breath. The doorbell rang a minute later. When no one else answered it, he went out himself, fixed a smile on his face, and opened the front door.

She eyed him up and down, lingering on his bare feet—no doubt he’d made some social gaffe by opening the door not fully dressed.

Like I give a shit.

“What?” he asked. He knew he sounded unfriendly, but he hated this woman for what she had done to Lexi.

“I’ve been trying to see Alexia, but she appears to be avoiding me.”

“We’ve been…busy.”

“I’m sure. Is she here?”

For a second he thought about denying it, but Lexi couldn’t avoid her forever. “Come in. I’ll go tell her you’re here.”

She followed him inside, and he led her into the kitchen to wait. “Help yourself to coffee,” he said

“Perhaps we could have a word before you go.”

He didn’t want to. Really, he didn’t. He knew with a certainty that he wouldn’t be interested in anything she had to say. All the same he heaved a huge breath and turned around. “Go on.”

“I’d like to understand what my granddaughter sees in you, Joshua.”

“Please, call me Mr. Slater.”

She gave a tight smile. “You’re good looking enough, if you like your men a little rough.”

“Thanks.”

“But what have you possibly got in common with Alexia? I’ve looked into your background. You’re a nothing. A nobody. So I don’t know why Lexi is with you. Sex, I’m guessing. You’re her piece of rough.”

Bitch.

“Or she feels sorry for you.”

Even bigger bitch.

The words took him back to that long ago meeting with the social services when he’d almost begged them to let Evie stay with him. They’d been kind, sort of, as much as they could be in those circumstances. They’d pointed out that he had absolutely nothing to offer Evie. That there were complete strangers out there who could give her far more than a penniless seventeen year old, with no education and no job, ever could.

“Of course, there’s also the possibility that she married you to gain access to her trust fund.”

He was no longer seventeen, and he was far from penniless, and he wouldn’t be pushed around by someone who thought they were superior just because they’d been born with money. “Sounds like something out of a novel.” He gave her a smile back that didn’t reach his eyes. “And why should she have felt the need to do that,
Granny
.”

She pursed her lips. “Who knows? Young people today never have enough money.”

“Or perhaps she didn’t trust the people who were meant to be looking out for her.”

This time the smile was patronizing. “We’re her
family
, Joshua. I’m aware someone like you wouldn’t understand that.”

“Actually, I understand it all too well.” Yeah, he knew all about how well family could look out for each other.

She considered him, head cocked, like some sort of bird of prey about to peck his eyes out. “You know, I could make it worth your while if this marriage to Lexi could be made to…disappear.”

Jesus, she was trying to bribe him now. She really did have a low opinion of him.

He took a step closer, let his eyes go cold and saw her swallow. “You say you’ve looked into my background, so you know a little of what I’m capable of. You hurt Lexi, and I will come after you. And I’ll warn you—I don’t play by the same rules.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yeah. Now, I’ll go tell Lexi her sweet little grandma is here. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

Without waiting for her to say another word, he turned and left the room, taking the stairs two at a time, wanting to be away from the woman. Lexi was sitting up in bed when he pushed open the door, her curls wild around her head, her eyes sleepy.

“No coffee?”

“You can get some when you go down.”

She pouted. “You’re not coming back to bed?”

I love you.

The memory of the words echoed in his head, and a cold hard lump formed in his belly, souring his mood even further. “Your grandmother is here.”

“Oh.” She sat up straighter. “Did she say anything to you?”

“What about?”

“About anything.”

“A few things.” He crossed the room to the dresser and grabbed his keys. “None worth repeating.”

Lexi studied him, lower lip caught between her teeth. “Grandmamma has an uncanny ability to hit where it hurts. I hope she didn’t say anything to upset you.”

He sat down and pulled on his boots, before glancing at her. “Why would you think anything she’d say
could
upset me?”

She gripped the edges of the sheet. “Because you look a little upset.”

“I’m fine. But I do need to go into the office.”

She pushed her hair back from her face and studied him some more, a frown between her eyes. “Are you okay, Josh?”

He shrugged then stood up and grabbed his bag. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ll see you later?”

“I don’t know what time. I’m seeing some friends tonight.”

“Can I come? I’ve never met your friends.”

“Not tonight. Guys only.”

“Oh.”

Shit, why did he have the urge to go hug her, kiss it better, say he’d rather be with her? “Another time. Logan has a night club—we’ll go dancing.”

“Really?” She smiled. “I love dancing, though I’m not very good.”

“Yeah, really.” He headed for the door, but at the last minute he turned back, crossed to where she stood, leaned down, and kissed her hard. “How about lunch?”

Shit, where did that come from? His mouth had a mind of its own around Lexi. What the hell had happened to keeping his distance? To taking a day to get his head together?

A smile blossomed on her face, and for a second the worry faded from her eyes, and it was worth it.

“I’ll meet you at your office?”

He gave a brief nod, and he was gone.

…

At one o’clock sharp, Sally led her into Josh’s big corner office.

All morning, Lexi hadn’t been able to quite banish a sense of unease. She’d gotten rid of her grandmother pretty quickly. She guessed she’d just been snooping around, or had wanted to talk to Josh as much as to Lexi herself. She’d also been way nicer than she usually was, and Lexi had no clue why. She hadn’t even asked for any money.

What had she said to him? What had he said back?

Her grandmother could be downright mean and manage it with a smile on her face, but Lexi didn’t think Josh was the sensitive type. He appeared immune to emotions. She’d become receptive to his moods over the last days. He hadn’t exactly opened up to her, but she felt they were getting closer, and he seemed happy.

Until this morning.

He’d made such beautiful love to her. For the first time she’d sensed it was more than mere sex. There was a true connection between them. She’d woken up to a feeling of well-being, a burgeoning sense of happiness. She’d tried not to analyze it too deeply because Josh had made it more than clear that he was not sticking around, had no interest in anything of a more long-term nature. So she’d told herself to take what she could and not get in too deep. And maybe afterward, they could be friends.

Then he’d come back, and the relaxed lover of the last few days was gone. He seemed tense, not happy. And while she tried to blame her grandmother, she suspected there was something else going on in his head.

Now she looked at him, seated behind his huge steel desk, dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a white shirt and a dark red tie. He looked different, the rough edges smoothed away. She wanted to go across and kiss him, to snuggle in his lap, but something about him radiated standoffishness, and she couldn’t quite get up the nerve to push past that.

He cleared his throat, and she realized she’d been standing staring at him for a good minute.

“You look smart,” she said.

“I had a meeting with the bank.”

“Oh. I hope it went well.”

“It did.” After loosening his tie, he pulled it over his head and shoved it in his desk drawer. Then he unfastened the buttons on his shirt, revealing the V of golden skin at his throat. Sitting back, he studied her out of those stunning blue eyes. “Sit down, Lexi.”

God, he was bossy. “Aren’t we going to lunch?”

“In a minute. I need to talk to you about something first.”

She took the chair opposite him and sat, hands on her lap, trying to subdue the worry gnawing at her insides. He could hardly dump her. He was married to her and had promised her the next six months, and she had come to believe he was a man of his word. But he could very easily distance himself, and she didn’t want that.

His eyes held a guarded expression.

Had she messed up somehow? Come across as too needy? Maybe she hadn’t been quite so good at hiding her emotions as she thought she was.

She studied his desk. It was immaculate. As was the whole office. So different from her own. Maybe he’d realized he couldn’t live with her any longer. He’d said at the beginning that he hated mess and he hated chaos.

Had he had enough of both?