have a good day.”
She grinned. “Thank you, we did…”
CHAPTER NINE
KANE sat on the living room couch, the light from the lamp reflecting off the glossy color pages of the hardbound book Megan had given him as a wedding gift.
He couldn’t sleep, despite it being past two in the morning. His body was satiated from making love with Megan, but emotionally, he experienced a restlessness he couldn’t shake. And while prowling around the house, he’d been inexplicably drawn to the woodworking book he’d avoided since the day he’d been given the gift. Alone, without someone watching his every reaction, without fearing some question that would be related to the text in the book, he was free to absorb and analyze the illustrations. He was determined to create one of the designs without a pattern, just to prove to himself that he could. Another challenge in a lifetime of frustrating obstacles.
After a while the pictures in front of him blurred as his mind drifted to the woman he’d left in his bed. A woman who was getting under his skin and making him feel things he didn’t want to feel. A woman who had the ability to infuriate him and provoke him. With just a simple look or touch she chased away the loneliness that had been his constant companion for so long. How could that be when he’d vowed never to open himself to another woman that way?
Nearly a week had passed since the joint checking account debacle. He’d been a jerk about the situation, but fortunately for him, Megan was easy to distract with kisses and caresses, and she was quick to forgive. He liked that about her. He liked her smiles and teasing and his name on her lips when he slid deep inside her. He only wished he could be more for her.
What he didn’t like were the changes she was making to his home, no matter how subtle the transformations. Finding his clothes in different drawers and discovering bathroom supplies reorganized was enough to give him an anxiety attack. So far, the worst that had happened was she’d cleaned out his medicine cabinet in the bathroom, rearranged his toiletries on one shelf and added her feminine products, most of which he didn’t recognize by box or container.
The variety of stuff she used had overwhelmed him. His needs in that department were simple-shaving cream, deodorant and toothpaste. He found himself snooping when he was alone, opening bottles that looked like perfume and sniffing the contents, spraying cans of stuff that smelled like hair spray and deodorant, testing jars and tubes of creams for future reference.
As if his thoughts had conjured her, she padded toward him, sleep-tousled and wearing the shirt he’d worn that evening. Their eyes met, and something passed between them. Not a sexual charge, but something infinitely more intimate. An emotion so intense and deep it tugged on his soul. And scared the hell out of him, because whatever the emotion was, he wanted to experience it with her.
Closing the book, he straightened. “What are you doing up?”
She smiled sleepily. “I could ask you the same thing, but I think the answer is obvious.”
“It is?” Could she detect his innermost thoughts, feelings and fears?
“Neither of us can sleep,” she said, stating the obvious. Sinking onto the cushion beside him, she curled her bare legs beneath her and snuggled up to his side. “I’m glad to see you like your book. I wasn’t sure if you did or not.”
He gently brushed unruly strands of hair from her cheek. “Didn’t I thank you properly?”
“Yes, very thoroughly, but you just seemed so…” She shrugged, as if the right word eluded her.
He didn’t want her to finish that, knowing he’d made love to her that morning as much to distract her as to forget the confusing, conflicting emotions raging inside him. “It’s the nicest gift I’ve ever received.” That much was the truth. No one had ever given him something with so much thought and care behind the gesture.
She smiled radiantly. “I’m glad, because you deserve it.”
He set the book on the coffee table, wanting to tell her he didn’t deserve something he couldn’t fully enjoy, and he didn’t deserve her caring and kindness. Coward that he was, the words remained anchored.
She moved closer until her legs pressed against his jeans-clad thigh and her head rested on his bare chest, her warm breath fanning his skin. Closing his eyes, he drew in her scent, cherishing the feel of her. A shiver passed through her, and she cuddled more fully into him.
“Cold?” he asked.
“Umm.”
“Would you like to go back to bed, or would you like me to make a fire?”
She tipped her head, giving him a sultry, upswept glance. “That’s a difficult choice, but considering we can always go to bed
“Who says we have to go back to bed at all when we have a perfectly good couch out here?” he said, leaving her to build a fire.
“Did you make this china hutch?”
Kane glanced over his shoulder to the far side of the room where Megan stood. He hadn’t heard her get up from the couch, and he had no idea why she’d care if he’d made that hutch, unless… “Does it look handmade?”
“Not especially.” She examined the top piece, made of pine and beveled glass doors, then bent, tracing her fingers along the scrolled grooves he’d carved into the bottom casing. “It’s beautifully crafted, not something that looks like it’s been manufactured in an assembly line at some furniture factory.”
Her compliment stroked his ego just enough to make him admit the truth. “I made that for mine and Cathy’s first wedding anniversary.”
She straightened, her gaze curious. “How come it’s empty?”
He dropped another log on the licking flames. “Cathy wanted a matching dinette set, which I never got around to making.”
“This piece is beautiful all by itself.”
Only an extraordinary woman like Megan would think so, he thought, prodding a burning log with the steel poker. He wondered if she’d be so impressed with his talent if he told her he was illiterate, that he was self-taught and most likely put things together backward and somehow managed to get it right.
“I have some china and crystal that I haven’t unpacked yet. Would you mind if I put them in here?”
He shrugged and placed the poker on its hook, then adjusted the screen. “If you really want to.”
“Of course I want to.” She crossed the room and sat on her knees next to him. “Quit being so modest, Kane.”
He settled his back against the couch, thinking modesty had nothing to do with it. ‘I’m sure you’d prefer something better and fancier.”
She crawled over to him, looking like a sleek cat The firelight spun gold into her hair and made her eyes sparkle like sapphires. “The hutch is perfect. Elegant and understated,” she said, kneeling between his legs, her face inches from his. “I don’t like fancy.”
Her sass made him grin. The hands she placed on his thighs caused his body to respond accordingly. He held his desire in check. “All women like nice things.”
“Hmm. Depends on your definition of nice.” Her eyes drifted closed, and she skimmed her hands over his hips and his belly, blazing her own brand of fire all the way up his chest and around his neck. “This,” she whispered, her lips nuzzling his, “is
Groaning, he tumbled her across his lap and into his arms. He plunged his fingers into her hair, his pulse picking up its beat, matching the rhythm of hers. “Yeah, this is
He kissed her, long and slow, in no hurry to end the lazy, playful intimacy they shared. Finally, he lifted his mouth, satisfied with the dreamy quality of Megan’s expression.
She sighed contentedly and settled herself so her bottom nestled into the crux of his thighs. He wrapped his
