“We need sleep,” she finally whispered. “We’re too tired to think.”
There were a lot of things running through Paul’s mind, and his thinking was quite clear, but he knew what she meant.
Lowering his mouth to hers one last time, he kissed her, let himself drown in her lush, immediate response. Then, reluctantly, he pulled away.
The cool air rushed between them and in defense, she clutched the borrowed clothes to her body.
“Good night, Tor.”
She said nothing, just stood, looking at him as if she’d never seen him before. He got to his own bedroom door and stopped.
She finally moved, turning into the guest room. Before the door closed, he heard her response.
“Good night, Sir Paul.”
He hadn’t slept. Big surprise. Paul woke up feeling like he was on the last day of a four-day drinking binge, without the benefit of the fun party beforehand. His empty stomach was already clenching at the thought of seeing Torie again. A recipe for instant indigestion.
He groaned, and slapped the alarm again. Lurching to his feet, he headed for the shower.
Feeling only marginally better, he dressed for work and listened for Torie. He heard the water running and presumed she was showering as well.
“No. Do NOT go there,” he told his reflection. But the image of Torie, wet and soapy, in his guest shower wouldn’t be denied. He felt the sweat begin to bead on his forehead.
Great. He was either sick or crazy.
He’d put money on crazy.
Doors opened and shut, and he waited long enough for her to not be in the hall when he made a break for the kitchen. He couldn’t face running into her in the hallway where they’d kissed last night, fresh from a shower.
“Nonotgoingthere,” he growled under his breath as he slapped the coffee machine. It spluttered as the last of the coffee ran into the carafe.
He poured a mug for himself, threw a bagel in the toaster, and wondered if he should ask her about breakfast. Did she eat breakfast?
He had no idea. She used to, when they were in school. The protein girl, Todd had called her, always ready for eggs and bacon. Wincing at the memory of his friend, Paul got out another mug.
“Just going to knock and ask about coffee,” he lectured his raging hormones. “Christ, Jameson, you are not seventeen. Cut it out.”
He tapped a knuckle on the door. “Torie? You decent? How do you take your coffee?”
She didn’t answer. He frowned, leaning in toward the door to try and catch any response.
“Torie?”
Now he was worried. Decent or not, he was going in.
He knocked one more time for form’s sake, and twisted the knob. He’d only opened it an inch when she spoke.
“I’m okay, just…”
He knew that quaver. She was crying. Damn it. Steeling his nerves, reminding himself to be professional, he walked in.
She was sitting on the side of the bed, her cell phone cupped in between her hands. He could see the scroll of a text message. Her head was bowed, her loose hair camouflaging her expression.
“Really, I’m fine.”
“You are not. You’re crying.” He sat down on the bed, making sure there was at least a foot, maybe more, between them.
Torie raised her face, and he could see the streaks of her tears.
“What is it, Torie? It’s not Pam, is it? Or your cousin?”
She shook her head.
“The dog? Bear?”
She half-laughed, half-sobbed. “No, they’re all okay.”
“But you’re not. Please, tell me. Maybe I can help.” He wanted to scoot closer, to touch her. He held back because if he touched her now, when she was upset and vulnerable, and something happened…He’d never forgive himself for screwing it up again.
“I don’t think so, but thanks,” she looked at the ceiling, and he decided she was doing it to keep from crying. Unfortunately, all it did was expose the long line of her throat, which directed his gaze straight to her gorgeous—
“Really. I want to.”
She looked at him, her smile forced. She held up the phone. “I was supposed to go back into the office today. I got an email from my boss. Seems like the HR team and the firm’s principals decided I needed administrative leave. The phones have been ringing off the hook you see, from the press. They figure it’ll die down if I take a week or so off.” She pushed off the mattress, went to stand by the window.
