“Respect, trust and an open line of communication,” Audrey continued wisely. “That’s the foundation of any successful marriage. If you have those elements, you can handle any other obstacles that might get thrown into the mix.”
Paige desperately wanted to believe the other woman’s advice, but her own personal experience had left a bitter taste in her mouth, had hollowed out the depths of her souL
Her gaze automatically sought out Josh, and he glanced toward the house and waved, a roguish grin canting his mouth. She waved back, unable to stop the wild beating of her heart or the liquid heat that quickened her blood. He had that kind of effect on her senses.
She respected Josh. She trusted him with her life. They communicated on a level she and Anthony hadn’t come close to reaching. But after the harsh lessons she’d learned during her marriage to Anthony, Paige realized a greater concern.
She feared she’d be the one who couldn’t give Josh the one hundred percent their relationship deserved.
9
UNABLE TO SLEEP, despite how relaxed her body and mind were, Paige scoured the bookshelf in the guest bedroom for something to read. She was still basking in the warmth, teasing and family harmony that had carried through the evening. There was so much love evident in this household, and none of the Marchianos minded sharing that affection with her. With Anthony, she’d felt so alone for so long, craving the kind of kinship no phone call home could ease. At least for the weekend, she felt she belonged to this crazy, loving, wonderful family. And soon she’d be back in Connecticut with her own parents and siblings.
Skimming past the true-crime paperbacks to the next row down, Paige selected a short romance novel with a light premise, propped her pillows against the headboard of her bed and settled in for a few hours’ escape.
Minutes later, a quiet knock sounded at the door. Before she could issue an invitation, Josh slipped inside her room, closing the door soundlessly behind him. He’d changed from his casual attire of that afternoon into a pair of soft cotton pajama shorts and nothing else. His chest was gloriously bare, his body firmly muscled. Considering he slept beside her in his briefs on a nightly basis, she would have thought she’d have grown immune to the sight of his toned body. But it never failed to elicit a delicious heat and excitement, and forbidden thoughts that had no business being in her head.
Holding a plate with a slice of German chocolate cake on it, he moved toward the bed. “Hi,” he murmured, an irresistible grin curving across his mouth.
The warm, sexy rumble of his voice made her increasingly aware of the skimpy chemise she’d grabbed from the boutique to wear. At the time, she hadn’t given much thought to night visitors or bringing along a robe to cover up. The silky material, held up by thin straps, covered her adequately from breast to thigh, yet the snug bodice displayed enough cleavage to draw Josh’s eye and make her self-conscious.
“Hi, yourself.” Setting the book aside, she tugged her covers a little higher. “Are you sure you should be in here?”
He hesitated at the opposite side of the bed. “Don’t you want me here?”
“Of course I want you here,” she replied, her response honest. “I always enjoy talking to you. But isn’t everyone in bed for the night?”
“Yeah, which means my parents will never know I was here.” He sounded like a mischievous little boy getting away with something sneaky. Without asking, he pulled down the covers, fluffed up the pillow and slipped into bed beside her as if he belonged there, all the while balancing that huge piece of cake. Settling in, he shoved a bite into his mouth and chewed. “So, you couldn’t sleep either, huh?”
He sat so close, her next breath was filled with the warm, male scent of him. And the fragrance of chocolate. The powerful combination went straight to her head. “No, but I feel totally relaxed.”
“That’s exactly what I want to hear.” He lifted his fork to her mouth, tempting her with a piece slathered in rich frosting. “Want a bite?” His smile was wolfish and daring.
It wasn’t sweets she suddenly craved. “No, thanks. I’m still full from dinner.” She watched him devour the slice in record time and shook her head. “Isn’t that your third piece tonight?”
“Yeah,” he said, unrepentant. The last bite disappeared between his lips and he closed his eyes to savor the taste.
Her gaze dropped to his lips, watching the way his tongue licked away the crumbs and frosting there. Her stomach fluttered and an achy emptiness grew inside her. Struggling to keep her need for this man at bay, she poked him in his firm abdomen and teased, “You’d better be careful, Detective Marchiano, or you’re gonna get soft around the middle.”
His lashes lifted, and a frown wrinkled his forehead, as if the possibility concerned him. “You think so?”
Her mouth tipped up in a grin. “Keep eating like that and you will.”
“No worry there.” Setting the plate on the nightstand next to him, he rolled onto his side to face her and propped himself up with his elbow. The movement twisted the covers around his hips, made them slide down to her waist. His dark, smoky eyes didn’t miss that fact, or the sight of her nipples beading against silk. “Once we get home I’ll be back to my steady regimen of coffee, fruit on the run and prefab microwave dinners, when I remember to eat.” He rubbed his flat belly. “That bland diet always keeps me fit and trim.”
“Microwave dinners?” Infusing her tone with feigned pity, she reached out and with her palm, caressed the light stubble lining his jaw. “Aww, poor baby.”
He caught her hand before she could withdraw it, and just like that, the spark between them flared to life. She saw the magical awareness in his gaze, felt it in the subtle tightening of her body. His eyes seemed to pull her into their golden depths, seducing her, leaving her breathless with anticipation.
Bringing her fingers to his lips, he touched the tips with his tongue, let his warm breath caress the dampness. A delicious shiver raced up her arm, pooled heavily in private places.
That lazy smile of his slowly eased up the corner of his mouth. “If you genuinely felt sorry for me, you’d marry me and make sure I got three healthy meals a day.” His voice held an odd tightness, despite its casual, humorous tone.
A growing pressure banded her chest, painful in its intensity. She wanted to believe he was joking, but knew beneath all that charm and seduction his words were as serious as an out-and-out proposal. She let him down as gently as possible. “You wouldn’t be home most of the time to eat dinner, let alone breakfast and lunch.”
He absently stroked the inside of her wrist with his thumb, generating tiny circles of heat. “If I had you to come home to, you could bet I’d make every effort to enjoy every meal and then some.”
Sadness and regret flickered through her. “That kind of devotion ends once the honeymoon is over.”
Promises of forever shimmered in his gaze. “It doesn’t have to.”
“In my experience, it does,” she argued.
Somewhere along the way, their conversation had taken a personal spin, their words filled with meaning. Josh wanted her in his life, intimately and permanently; she couldn’t bring herself to commit her heart and soul, and a man like Josh would accept no less.
He didn’t push the issue, though she caught a fleeting glimpse of frustration in his expression. He released her hand, severing the tie between them, and Paige felt as though she were adrift, with no anchor in sight. She fought an overwhelming urge to cry for everything she’d lost in that single moment and blamed it on those unruly hormones flowing through her body.
He pulled in a deep breath and eased it out just as slowly, seemingly searching for his own stable ground. “Joel seemed awfully attentive with you today,” he commented.
That made her smile, because he sounded and looked so sullen-like a child who’d had his favorite toy taken away. “Joel is always an outrageous flirt. You’re just being more sensitive than normal.”
“Am I?” His brows lowered into the same scowl he’d shot at his brother a few times that evening.
“Yeah, you are.” She ruffled his thick, silky hair, loving the feel of the warm strands sliding through her fingers. “I never thought you were the jealous type.”
“I’ve never had a reason to be. Until now.” His voice was slightly rough, a ragged kind of velvet that was as dark and soft as the night. “I’m finding that I don’t like the thought of another man touching you.”
