Lead Me On (6 page)

"I know what I said, and I apologize for being so blunt—"

"—to have an affair, yet not once did you even attempt to come on to me."

"What?" He drew back, blinking with a comical look of shock.

She should stop now, simply shut up and go back to shelving books, but the hurt wouldn't let her. "I want to know why. Why didn't you even attempt to find out if I was interested?"

"Because I ... I didn't want to get my face slapped, for one thing."

"What makes you think I would have slapped you?"

"You're not the kind of woman a man propositions for casual sex. If I'd asked you out, you would have assumed I was interested in something more."

"Like marriage, I presume." She nearly growled in frustration. "You men can be so stupid sometimes! You judge a woman by what you see on the outside without bothering to ask what she wants or expects. I'll tell you something, Scott Lawrence. You're only right about one thing. If you'd asked me out before yesterday, then yes, I would have thought you were interested in something more than casual sex—and I would have told you no." She watched his eyes widen as she stepped toward him, her body shaking with fury. "I would have said no, because marriage, or any relationship that could even remotely lead to it, is the last thing in the world I want If you'd taken the time to spell it out, to tell me exactly what you were after, you might have gotten a different answer."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. "What are you saying?"

"That you offended me by treating me as if I were a—a stick of furniture. What is so wrong with me, I'd like to know?"

"Nothing is wrong with you." He raised his hands, looking lost at sea. "I just don't want to lead some innocent woman on and have her end up getting hurt."

"God, what an ego! Do you honestly think you're so irresistible that a woman can't go out with you without falling madly in love? Trust me, after yesterday, I'm in no danger of falling under your spell. I still find you attractive physically—more fool I—but quite frankly, the rest of you needs some work!"

"I know." He nodded. "I'm a regular bastard. A woman would have to be crazy to get tangled up with me."

"Either that, or in it only for the sex."

He held her gaze for a long moment before responding quietly. "Too bad you're not the type."

"You don't know anything about me or what I want."

"No. But I know what I want." He raised his hands and framed her face. His mouth descended to cover hers and heat shot through her like a liquid bolt of lightning.

Shock came first, followed by a wild rush of need as all the longing she'd suppressed for years surged upward. She dropped the books and flung her arms about his neck, returning the kiss with more eagerness than skill.

He gathered her hard against him as he slanted his head and deepened the kiss. Her body molded more tightly to his as she welcomed his tongue with a moan. His hand swooped down to clasp her bottom. The evidence of his response pressed hard against her stomach, making her light-headed with relief. She wasn't repulsive after all. He did want her. She moved against him, trying to ease the needy tightness inside her.

He groaned and walked her back until she came up against the bookcase. The shelves pressed into her spine, but she didn't care. She moved her hands to his chest, marveling at the feel of hot skin and crisp hair. His breathing turned labored as he kissed her neck and stroked her sides with his fingers. When his hand moved up to cup her breast, she gasped at the pure thrill of it.

Oh yes! she wanted to shout. Touch me, touch me. She took his jaw in her hands and brought his mouth back to hers, trembling at the feel of his beard against her palms, his lips and tongue. He lifted her until she sat halfway on a shelf and she wrapped her legs about his hips. The hard bulge in his swim trunks made contact with the center of her aching need.

A strangled cry caught in the back of her throat when he pressed harder into her.

"Oh yes, right there, just a tiny bit more—"

"Alli, have you seen—Oh!"

They both froze at the sound of Rory's voice. Alli opened her eyes, and found his open as well with their mouths still fused together. She broke away, and tried to scramble down from the shelf but her body rubbed hard against his and he gripped her thighs to hold her still.

"Don't ... move," he said between clenched teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain.

Panicked, she looked past his shoulder and found her sister standing in the doorway, staring in shock. The expression turned to concern when Scott didn't let her go.

"Everything okay?" Rory finally asked.

Alli nodded even as her cheeks flamed and her pulse pounded.

"Oh. Well then ..." Rory cast one more worried look at Scott and started to back out. "Sorry. I'll just ... be going."

As soon as Rory left, Alli dropped her forehead to Scott's chest.

"Holy shit." He took a deep breath and let it out in a loud rash. "You all right?"

She gave a squeak she hoped he took as a yes.

"Gawd Almighty." He exhaled again. "I guess you are 'that kind of girl' after all."

"I guess so." Even drowning in embarrassment, she laughed. The laughter eased the tension between them, and she felt his erection subside a bit. She sighed in both disappointment and relief.

"Well," he said, loosening his death grip on her thighs.

She leaned back enough to cast him a sheepish look through her lashes. "Well, indeed."

He chuckled. "You have the most prim voice I have ever heard."

She straightened as much as possible, considering she was sitting inside a bookcase straddling a man's hips. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nope." The grin spread to his eyes. "In fact, it turns me on."

He moved back and helped her down, then held her hands like a gentleman while the strength returned to her wobbly legs. "So, you think you can tear up the bed sheets with me without falling in love, huh?"

She raised her chin, hoping for a look somewhere between cocky and seductive. "If other women can have flings, why can't I?"

"No reason I can think of." He glanced around. "Not here, though. Just my luck, your brother will walk in on us next time, and I'll wind up with a broken jaw. How about I drive into town and get us a room at the Hotel Galvez? Dinner reservations for eight o'clock okay with you?"

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. He was asking her to check into a hotel. Her stomach did a joyful back flip at the thought even though she knew she should refuse. But then doing what she should was getting her nowhere in life. "Eight will be fine."

"Great. I'll be back at seven-thirty to pick you up. Pack an overnight bag and wear something nice for dinner." He gave her a quick, closed-mouth kiss. "Nightgown optional."

She stared as he turned and strode toward the door. What had she just done? "Scott, wait."

He glanced back with one brow raised.

"Does this mean you're still checking out?"

He pondered the question for a moment. "No. I think

I'll stay the full month after all." He wiggled his brows. "Maybe Marguerite's charm is finally starting to work."

"Maybe so," Alli whispered when she was alone, since it looked like both of them were about to get lucky.

"What in the world
is
going on?" Rory demanded.

Setting her jaw, Alli glanced up from the black cocktail dress she'd laid out on the bed to find her sister standing in the doorway looking like an outraged Viking warrioress. She'd already had one fight with her big brother; she didn't need another one with her baby sister.

Rory came forward, her hands accenting her words. "I find you kissing one of our guests in the gift shop this morning, and once I recovered from my shock, I thought, 'Good for you! About time you got involved with a man.' And woo-wee, what a man! I mean, Scott Lawrence. Wow! He's rich, he's famous, you love his books, and he's gorgeous, if you like the brooding type. So the whole time Chance and I are running errands in town, I'm so happy for you, I'm about to bust into song.

"Then we get back, and Adrian's in an uproar, banging pots about the kitchen. I ask him what's wrong, and he tells me—Well, never mind what he told me. He clearly misunderstood something you said, right?"

"He didn't misunderstand."

"But ... he said you asked for tomorrow morning off, because you're going out with Scott and don't plan to be back in time for breakfast, which again, good for you. It's fast but sometimes it happens that way. Except Adrian has some notion that Scott's just using you for sex, and you're going to let him. He's wrong though, isn't he?" Anxiety lined Rory's face. "I mean, he's just being overprotective like he always is, right?"

"Scott isn't using me."

"See, I knew it." Rory sat on the bed.

"I'm using him."

"What?" Rory shot back up.

"Well, actually it's a mutual use, I guess."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing." She sighed. "Look, Scott and I are attracted to each other, but neither one of us is interested in a relationship."

"So you're going to check into a hotel and have sex?" Rory's voice rose an octave.

"Something like that."

"Are you insane?" Rory stared at her. "You can't just check into a hotel with a man to have sex."

"Why not?" Dressed in her pink floral bathrobe, Alli took a seat at her vanity and glanced over her scant supply of makeup. "Other women do."

"You're not 'other women.' You're—"

'Too prudish and nunlike?" She applied blusher to her cheeks in angry strokes. "Well, I'm sick of living that way, of having men treat me like an old maid. I've finally found a man who finds me enticing. If I want to have an adult relationship with him, that's my business."

"Allison, listen to me." Rory came up behind her, pleading with her reflection in the mirror. "Don't do this. You're going to get hurt."

"No I won't, and that's the point. I'm going into this with my eyes open. Not romanticizing it, like I did ... before."

"With Peter, you mean?" Rory said, speaking the forbidden name. "Is that what this is all about? Alli, that was years ago."

Allison went cold inside. "Exactly, and it's time I got over it."

"What, by sleeping with a man you don't care anything about?"

"Yes." She closed the makeup case with a snap. "Peter hurt me, because he lied to get me to sleep with him. Scott's honest enough to be up front about what he wants, and we both agreed this is just physical."

"You actually discussed it?" Rory nearly squeaked.

"Yes, we did," she responded with calm resolve.

"Alli, you have to listen to me."

Allison met her sister's gaze in the mirror. "You mean the way you listened to me when I told you not to get involved with Chance because he'd break your heart?"

"That was totally different," Rory insisted. "I was in love with Chance. And in the end, we proved you wrong. He didn't break my heart."

Not yet, anyway,
Allison thought, suppressing the fear that tried to clutch at her heart. How did any of them know Chance wouldn't die of a heart attack or develop cancer? Or die in a car crash like their parents had. "Maybe this time
you're
wrong," Alli said. "Even if you're not, it's none of your business. And it's none of Adrian's business." Rising, she went back to the bed and started packing the casual clothes she'd picked out for tomorrow. "I'm doing this, Rory, and I would appreciate you and Adrian butting out."

The shock that registered on Rory's face stirred her instincts to soothe and coddle, but she ruthlessly resisted.

Adrian appeared in the doorway with a dark scowl. "Your 'date' is here."

Her breath snagged in her throat. Could she really do this, or was she as crazy as Rory said? 'Tell him I'll be right up." Her hands shook as she picked up the cocktail dress she'd laid on the bed. When Adrian was gone, she turned back to her sister. "I realize you don't understand this, but I'm sick of feeling damaged inside. I know I'll never heal completely from what happened with Peter, I'll never be able to fall in love like most people, nor do I want to. But at least I can have this. Please try not to hate me for it."

"Oh, Alli, I could never hate you." Rory hugged her

awkwardly over the mound of her stomach. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

Alli closed her eyes as fear whispered through her mind the way it did more often with each passing day. Rory was so happy with her marriage and the baby on the way it scared her. What if something happened to destroy that happiness? Or worse, far worse, what if Fate stole Rory from them? What would they do without Aurora, the Sunshine Girl, who brought light and laughter into the lives of everyone she touched?

Damn life for being so cruel. And damn love for allowing it to hurt.

Squeezing the fear away, Alli pulled back and offered a reassuring smile. "I won't get hurt, because I could never fall in love with someone as arrogant as Scott Lawrence. Admire his talent, yes. Love him romantically? No."

Ten minutes later, though, she wasn't so sure. She entered the central hall and saw him leaning his forearm against the mantel of the hearth as he scowled at the cold grate. At the sound of her approach, he looked up and the scowl vanished. A smile slowly took its place as he straightened, and the sight of him standing there, so virile, took her breath away. He'd dressed in a charcoal-gray Italian suit with a dark shirt and tie. The look was saved from being stuffy by a pair of eelskin cowboy boots. His whiskey-colored eyes took in her simple black dress and high-heeled sandals, and he lifted a brow in approval.

"You look ... incredible," he said, coming toward

her.

"Thank you." Dropping her gaze to the floor, she tucked a curl behind her ear. She tried to think of something pithy to say, but the butterflies in her stomach made thinking impossible.

"I'll take that." He reached for the overnight bag. "You ready?"

She squared her shoulders and met his gaze directly. "Yes."

~ ~ ~

"So ..." Alli cleared her throat but couldn't bring herself to look at anything but the menu before her. "How do we ... I mean ... I need to know ... how does this work?"

Scott leaned toward her as if planning a conspiracy. "You tell the waiter what you want, and he brings it to you."

She looked up, into his smiling eyes, and a strained laugh escaped her. "No. Not ordering dinner. Having an affair. I've, um ... never had one."

"Allison." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I sort of guessed that already."

Was he laughing at her, or trying to get her to laugh with him? She turned back to the menu, struggling to make sense of the whole evening. Scott had played the part of the perfect gentleman since the moment he'd picked her up, opening doors, carrying her bag.

Her stomach fluttered as she remembered the few brief minutes in the posh room upstairs. She wasn't sure what she'd expected—maybe for him to grab her the minute they were alone—but nothing could have prepared her for what she'd found. He'd bought flowers. Two dozen fragrant white freesias. They were there on the coffee table in the sitting area of their room. The sight of them had shocked her far more than the box of condoms she'd seen sitting on the nightstand, or the fact that either he or the maid had already turned down the bed.

When he'd seen her staring at the flowers, he'd pulled one stalk from the vase and handed it to her before he presented his arm to escort her downstairs.

She looked at the flower now, lying on the linen tablecloth next to her plate. He'd said he wanted sex and nothing else, but then he'd bought a vase of flowers. And asked the maitre d' for a table in a quiet corner. She'd assumed he'd picked the hotel restaurant for convenience, but now she wasn't so sure. She dared a quick peek over the menu at the candles on the tables. Real silver and crystal stemware gleamed in the low lighting. Romance drifted on the air to the soft cadence of chamber music and the friendly murmur of other diners.

Why would he give her flowers and take her to a romantic restaurant if this evening was only about sex?

Her heart began to pound as she returned her gaze to the menu. "I need to know how this works. Are there rules? You said no emotions would get involved, but ..." She looked up at him, searching for a way to put all her fears into words. "You've been treating this like a date. Like a real date."

"It is a real date." The look he gave her made her feel stupid. "Just because we're not going to fool ourselves into thinking love is involved doesn't mean we won't enjoy each other's company." He took her hand and squeezed her cold fingers before he kissed her knuckles. The heat of his lips rippled through her. "I definitely plan to enjoy you. On several levels."

"Oh." She gazed at his mouth as images danced through her mind, of him kissing her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. With a jolt, she pulled her hand free and went back to staring at the menu.

He sighed, as if disappointed or impatient with her naïveté. "You know, there's no rule that says lovers can't also be friends."

"But ... how does it work?" she asked a bit desperately. "How do we enjoy each other's company, get to know each other, become friends, but stop the emotions from going any further?"

"One way is to keep the association brief."

"How brief?"

He folded his menu and set it aside. "A weekend here and there. Which is one of the reasons long-distance affairs work well if you don't want anything serious. You get together for a night or two when you're both in the same town, then go back to your separate lives. What you each do between weekends is none of the other person's business. Sort of the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy."

"I thought that applied to gays in the military."

"It applies to a lot of things in life. Especially casual affairs. You only reveal so much of yourself and never press your lover to bare their soul. Keep things on the surface, and no one gets close enough to hurt you."

"And you keep it brief."

"Exactly."

She thought about that. "Perhaps we should specify a time limit up front. If you're staying for the full month, will we continue to ..." The words stuck in her throat.

"Sleep together that whole time?" He raised a brow, and she nodded. "That could get a bit awkward with your brother around. Correct me if I'm wrong, but when I picked you up earlier, I got the distinct impression he wanted to chop me off at the knees."

Allison cringed inwardly at her memory of her fight with Adrian. "He and Rory are worried I'll get hurt. I told them not to, that I'm in absolutely no danger of falling in love with you, but you know how protective siblings can be."

He made a noncommittal sound.

"You're right though," she said. "I'd feel awkward being with you at the inn. Maybe we should say this is only for tonight. Tomorrow, when we go back to Pearl Island, we'll return to being innkeeper and guest, nothing more."