Lord of Rage & Primal Instincts (33 page)

Nothing, not one thing was as erotic as hearing Ava find her release. Her body tensed, then with a burst she clamped down, making him moan.

He doubted he could last much longer. Then he felt her, heard her come. She cried out his name, and he changed his mind. Hearing his name on her lips as she reached her orgasm, now
that
was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard.

“We never really set up any ground rules for what we’re doing,” she said a few moments later as he was about to drift off to sleep.

“We never really set up any ground rules on who was the decision maker over the book, either, and that’s going just fine,” he countered. “A technicality.”

Ian rolled onto his back and tucked her head against his chest. “You’re going to make me talk, aren’t you?”

“You know what I always say—”

“Yes, I know. Most problems between a man and woman can be cleared up with one good sit-down conversation.”

She lifted her head and smiled down at him. “Most conflicts can be avoided that way, too.”

He chuckled tiredly. “Doing this after sex is a sneaky blow.”

“One practiced by generation after generation of women.”

“My job is too complicated for any type of relationship.”

“I figured so, like mine. All the traveling. But I like what we have right now.”

His heartbeat quickened. “Me, too.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And I don’t think we need to worry that us making love will ruin the sexual tension of the book. Not anymore.”

“So, as long as we’re working on the book together…”

He gently pushed her head back down to his chest, her hair fanning across his skin. “Then we’re together.” He liked the sound of that.

“Why did you become a reporter, Ian?”

Was he off the hook now? No more discussion talk? And why did he feel…let down that she didn’t want more of a relationship from him? He sighed heavily. “I’ve always been curious, always wanted to know what’s around the next corner. That first time I was running across the desert with my camera, being chased, that’s when I knew who I was. I felt the most alive.”

Except right now. Dog-tired, sated and with Ava lying across his chest, he felt very much alive. They’d said the book, but there was also that vacation. Plus revisions, captions for the photos, suggestions from the copy editor, final proofs…

T
HEIR LAST WEEK HAD TAKEN
on a nice routine of working on the book together in the morning, sending the manuscript pages to his sister in the afternoon and taking pictures at night. They’d made tremendous progress despite being delightfully interrupted to make love and to argue as to who exactly was making the final decisions.

Ian and Ava sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her fireplace as they debated about an ancient warrior class. “I’m telling you it’s true.”

Ian gave her a skeptical look. “So you’re telling me that once they stole the woman and he had her in his possession, it was suddenly okay with her father that she was gone? Her family is hell-bent on protecting her, then all of a sudden all these alpha males just throw up their hands, and say, ‘Oh, well, you won.’”

Ava made a face. “Well, when you put it like that it does sound far-fetched.”

“I think some of your theories need a male’s point of view from time to time.”

She glanced up sharply. She was about to ask Ian if he planned to volunteer for the job. As a joke. Then she saw the look on his face. The man was clearly horrified by what had just come out of his mouth.

She searched for something to fill the gulf that suddenly arose between them.

“What I find so interesting,” she began, “is that after
they’ve stolen the woman, they then try to woo her. I mean, she’s there…he’s got her. But he works very hard to win her love.”

Ian cleared his throat. “Makes some sense to me. It’s not just about sex. He’s taken that woman to be his wife. His companion. It’s about loneliness, and the need to spend your time with someone who doesn’t want to run away or toss a knife in your back.”

Silence stretched between them once more. Since they’d become lovers, nothing even close to resembling an awkward moment had passed between them. Now there had been two.

Maybe she should try to tempt him with the paints. Although the idea was to paint yourself and wash your partner, they’d improvised, taking on both roles. She’d try something else. “Maybe he just needed a friend.”

“He’d have been insulted if she’d offered. A woman should never tell a man she just wants to be his friend.”

“Don’t men want friends?”

“Not the women ones,” he said drily.

She laughed, and reached for a newspaper clipping. “Hey, I think I found the perfect thing for more of my twenty-first-century dating indoctrination. It’s called a cuddle party.”

Ian’s eyes widened in alarm. “Have you ever been to one? It’s supposed to be great. Hugging and touching. Perfect to shake off any intimacy issues.”

“I’m fine with my intimacy issues just the way they are.”

“You’re in a strange mood today.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. An odd smile passed across his lips. “You’re right.” He stood and stretched his legs. “I’m sorry. Miriam emailed me and
asked for a rush on the last chapter. I stayed up late to finish the manuscript.”

“I can’t wait to see it, and give you my final decision,” she said with a smile. But Ian didn’t return her grin at the mention of their inside joke.

“I’ll go back to the hotel and print it off.”

She glanced down at the case he used to carry his laptop. “Why not print it off here? You can use mine.”

Ian shook his head. “I need to call my sister, too.”

She rolled to her feet. “In that case, I’ll walk you to the door.”

He turned toward her, his expression suddenly intense. “Let me take you out to celebrate. Champagne, the works.”

“That would be nice.”

He kissed her cheek, and shut the door behind him.

Something was wrong, and she had a good idea what it was. The book was complete. A dozen questions swirled around them. The one foremost in her mind…what happened next?

T
HE PHONE RANG JUST
as Jeremy had scooped Miriam against his side. He loved holding her that way. With a reluctant kiss, she slipped out of bed.

She’d been receiving a lot of calls lately, mostly from work. She’d gone in this morning, but had taken the rest of the afternoon off, although a lot of calls were still being diverted her way.

“Hey, Ian.”

Jeremy recognized the name. Ian was her brother. The only family she spoke of. He watched as she tucked the phone between her head and shoulder and tugged on a robe. Her long, dark hair looked mussed, and curled
down her back. All he could think about was the feel of her hair on his skin.

The soft arousing tickle as it trailed down his stomach as her mouth moved closer to his penis.

He hated that she’d stayed cooped up in her apartment for so long because of him. Miriam was a popular woman. He’d gathered that by the number of phone calls, and the lack of any real substantive food in her kitchen.

“No, I’m not doing anything at all.” Her voice carried into the bedroom. Well, they
had
just finished.

He watched as Miriam rolled her head from side to side. “Just a boring weekend at home alone.”

Just a boring weekend?

Alone?

His mouth went dry. Something dark and bitter broke free in him. No, when had he become so paranoid? So Miriam wasn’t ready to share the news about them with her friends and family. No problem. This was all new to him, too. Except he wanted to shout from the rooftops that Miriam chose to be by his side.

Jeremy thrust the sheets away from his body and swung his legs to the floor. He pulled on his jeans and grabbed his T-shirt. Hating what he was thinking of Miriam.

She said goodbye to her brother and returned to him. “Good news, my brother and the doc finished the book, and if that last chapter is as good as what I’ve already read, it’s going to be great.”

He knew how much of her company’s resources she’d put behind that book, and its success meant a lot to her both professionally and personally. “Let’s go out, Miriam, go to a restaurant and cut loose. Maybe we could invite your friends.”

She dropped her hand so fast from around his waist, she almost left skid marks on his back. “No, Jeremy. We can’t.”

“Can’t? What do you mean can’t?”

“Going out to a restaurant would be too much like a date. I can’t have a relationship with you. Date you. You probably think dating is going to the Taco Barn with change you found between the cushions of your couch. Or on the floorboard of your car.”

Jeremy made a face. “That would mean I’d actually have to clean. You’re serious? You really don’t want to go out? Get to know each other’s friends?”

She nodded, her face looking tortured. “Don’t you see? I’m over fifteen years older than you, Jeremy. Believe me when I say I can’t pass for twenty. Hell, sometimes I can’t pass for thirty.”

“No one’s asking you to pass for anything.”

“Do you realize what people will say? They’ll take one look at us together and make assumptions. They’ll call you my boy toy. I’d look pathetic.”

“That’s easily fixed. You just stare down anyone who’s stupid enough to tell you that and say, ‘Screw you.’”

She stalked into the dining room and huffed, “Oh, that’s really mature.”

“Then that fits, because apparently I’m low in adult behavior skills.”

Miriam twisted her hands together. “Would you stop acting like that?”

He turned a surprised gaze to her. “Like what?”

“Like you’re all broken up about this.”

The silence between them stretched taut.

She reached for his hand, caught his fingers between hers. “Jeremy, I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t ask
you to come here. You did that all on your own. I never even returned your phone calls.”

His hands dropped to his sides, and he took a step back. He could accept a woman not interested in him. He was a guy who could bow out gracefully. But with Miriam, he’d planned to at least put up a fight. A fight she apparently didn’t want him to make.

“If you’d turned me down right from the beginning, offered to play hostess to me being tourist, instead of us winding up in bed—I would have walked on. That would have been the end of it.”

Her brown eyes didn’t soften.

“But the minute you fell into my arms, the second your lips touched mine, I knew what that kick in the stomach was all about. What I’d been missing since you left Oklahoma.”

Miriam refused to meet his eyes.

“A fire burns between us.” He grabbed her shoulders. “If this were no more than a second one-night stand, it would have been through by the weekend. You wouldn’t have extended it into this week. It’s hotter than it was before.”

“Think of this as just getting lucky. You’re twenty. You should be into easy lays.”

He shook his head. “Don’t make this into that…”

“I did. Our time—”

“Our time was all about you and me. It’s been there all along. And for the record, I could afford to take you someplace other than Taco Barn. I have a good job back home.”

Her eyes narrowed, finally meeting his gaze. “One that allows you to take off and leave for weeks at a time?” she asked. Her voice skeptical.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I own my own business.
I flip houses. I buy them cheap, fix them up and sell them at a nice profit. The housing market is usually slower in February. That’s when I normally book my vacation. And don’t worry, even if I should lose a job, I can always find another. People are always looking for someone who can fix things. I can go anywhere I want. Men who can work with their hands, cabinetry, plumbing, we’re a dying breed.”

“O
H
,” M
IRIAM SAID
, suddenly feeling deflated. She’d insulted Jeremy. “I’m sor…”

Her words trailed off as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, though. You spent this time with me because you love me.”

She jerked away. “Jeremy, don’t make this into something it’s not. I know you expect to have what your parents had. To fall instantly in love and live happily forever. But they were lucky. It doesn’t work like that for everyone. For most people.”

“My parents listened to their hearts. And it wasn’t just luck. They worked at their marriage. They
made
it work. They became the person the other one could count on. I want you to count on me. I want to be the man who left the world a little better than the way I found it by fixing things with my hands. I want to be the guy who took his kids out for doughnuts on a Saturday morning so Mommy could sleep in. But one thing I don’t want to be—the man whose woman was too embarrassed to introduce him to her friends.”

She stood away from him. “You don’t love me, and I certainly don’t love you,” she told him.

“Prove it,” he challenged.

You went to bed with me because you love me,
she answered, but didn’t say the words out loud.

Jeremy stepped toward her. “Tell me how you feel about me. Tell me you don’t love me.”

“I don’t love you,” she told him quickly. Firmly.

She saw that flicker of hurt touch his eyes. She knew better than this. At least she should have. She was older and supposedly wiser. Miriam had spotted the vulnerability in him. She should have known it would come to this, and avoided it. The responsibility of hurting him cut deeply, she was sick and angry with herself.

“That sounded really convincing.”

“The truth usually is.”

“Prove it’s the truth.”

She tilted her head toward him. “How?”

He held out his arms. “Come over here and kiss me.”

Sexier words had never been spoken. Desire pounded her body. “I’m not going to kiss you.” But her words lacked any defiant conviction.

“Well, how do I know that’s how you really feel?”

“I just told you how I really feel.”

She couldn’t take much more of this. She’d kiss him, prove him wrong, send him back to Oklahoma. And she’d make a vow. Never, ever get involved with someone under thirty. Forty.

“No sly stuff.”

“You assuming you’re going to lose?”

“No, I’m assuming that you’re tricky.”

“Tricky? I’m hurt you’d say that. I’ve always been straightforward with you. I want you. I want to spend more time with you, and get to know you even better. It’s you who hasn’t been honest. With yourself.”

“Oh, come over here, kiss me and get it over with.”

“Now darlin’, I can say I’ve had better offers than that.”

“Fine.” Anything to get this point proven and the whole thing over with.

She walked with slow, deliberate steps toward him. He took a seat at her dining-room table.

So her younger lover wasn’t going to make this any easier for her. She had no desire to hurt him. She wouldn’t try to lay on him a kiss that would send Jeremy reeling. She’d simply give him his kiss, all the while remaining detached.

After Oklahoma, he’d haunted her nights, but now that was over. She just had to make him believe it. And herself. She’d focus on something completely mundane,
not
on the sexy ruggedness of his voice.

She lowered her head, and her hair fell forward, shrouding them. At the first touch, his lips remained firm. And closed. Miriam pulled away slightly and darted her tongue along the seam of his lips, then traced the outer edges with the tip of her tongue.

Still nothing from him.

The blood pounded in her ears, her mouth grew desperate for the taste of him.

“What are you trying to do here? Why aren’t you kissing me back?”

“Maybe if you put some feeling into it. If you trusted yourself to,” his voice taunted.

“Maybe it’s because there are no feelings involved.”

“Then prove it, and kiss me like you mean it.”

Miriam braced her arms on the armrests of her very expensive mahogany dining-room chair. She felt like rolling up her sleeves and getting to work on this guy. She trailed small kisses to his ear then licked the sensitive skin below.

He sucked in a breath.

Good. She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue. Jeremy moved his hands to her head and tugged her face to his. He met her lips with his mouth open. Fire shot through her body, tightening her nipples and sending a rush of feeling downward, fueling her desire.