she was smarter now, and she knew exactly what she had to do about it.
“We need music,” he said. “Bach, I think.” But instead he began singing “Ain’t She Sweet” in a surprisingly mellow baritone, which made her smile despite her mood. When he was done, he caressed her shoulder. “Promise me you’ll tell Jewel you changed your mind, darling. Promise me you’ll stay at Frenchman’s Bride.”
Men had called her a lot of things over the years-
“Why, pray tell?”
In spite of herself, she had to smile. “Being a kept woman and all that.”
“You’re hardly a kept woman. You work for me.”
“Sleeping with the boss and all that.”
“You’re determined to be difficult. Fortunately, I’m in an exceptionally fine mood.”
“You should be after what I did to you tonight.”
That managed to distract him for a couple of minutes. Not long enough, though, because he soon returned to the subject at hand. “We’re going to approach this rather amazing chemistry we have in a logical fashion.”
“Okay, but I’m having my lawyer draw up an ironclad prenup to make sure I get Frenchman’s Bride after our divorce.”
Instead of scaring him to death, she’d amused him. “You won’t put me off that easily.”
“You should be shaking in your boots. Except for one thankfully short-lived period during the worst of my drinking days, I tend to marry my lovers.”
“Now, however, you are a wiser, more mature woman.”
“Not that wise, dawg, and I’ve got a powerful hankering for you.”
“Stop toying with me. I’m not so easily frightened. I’ll admit that what’s happened has been fairly astonishing. We seem to be one of those odd flukes of nature…”
Easy for him to talk about flukes of nature. He didn’t have a neurotic compulsion to fall in love with everything in pants.
“… and I believe I’ve come up with a rather tidy solution to our dilemma.”
“I don’t have to write a term paper, do I?”
“Not unless you plan to make it highly erotic.” His thumb found a tight muscle in the back of her neck, and he gently kneaded it. “What we most need is time, a chance to let this thing between us run its natural course.”
“Colin, you only like low-maintenance women, remember?”
“I like you well enough.”
“Be still, my heart.”
She sensed his smile.
“You really are an extraordinary woman.”
“And I’m not even at the top of my game.” Her defenses weren’t as strong as they should be, and it was time to take harsher measures. She fumbled for the plug with her toe. “You might remember that I’ve caused you nothing but trouble since I got here. And, forgive me if I’m hurting your feelings, but I’ve lost my taste for getting involved with the wrong sort of man. Or any man, for that matter.”
“Nonsense. I’m exactly the right sort. No one could be safer for you than me.”
The naked, workingman’s body pressed hard against her didn’t feel the least bit safe. “How exactly do you figure that?”
“We understand each other perfectly. I’m sarcastic and unpleasant. You’re headstrong and manipulative.”
“Bless our hearts.” She located the ring on the plug and tried to work it free.
“Exactly. Neither of us entertains any fantasies about the other, so we’re not in much danger of letting things get messy, now are we?”
The plug gave. “I’ve been married three times. Messy’s my middle name.”
“Which is exactly your problem. You get married. With me, that pressure will be off you from the beginning.”
Something ached inside her-not the fact that he didn’t want to marry her; she’d never go down that road again-but the knowledge that she was incapable of the uncomplicated, loving relationships that came so easily to other women. The time had come to play it straight, but she couldn’t do it with his body pressed so close, and she rose from the tub before she spoke.
“Making love with you has been the first thing that’s felt really good in a long time, but no matter how much I’ve been rationalizing it, this was a backslide for me.”
The hand sliding up her leg stilled at her calf, and he went all haughty on her. “I’m not some bloke you picked up in a bar.”
She stepped out of the water and wrapped herself in a towel. “You may find it hard to believe, but I do know how to take care of myself, and having an affair with you isn’t the way.”
“A little late to decide that.”
“You were more temptation than I could resist.”
He looked more thunderous than appeased.
“The worst part is, I’m just starting to realize we’ve screwed up a nice friendship.”
“Nonsense. We haven’t screwed up a thing.” Water sluiced over the hard planes of his body as he rose, and the gleam of candlelight over those ropey muscles made her want to sink back in the tub with him. “It’s possible to be both friends and lovers. Preferable, actually.”
“Not in the Universe of Sugar Beth.” She put more distance between them as he stepped from the tub. “It tends to be all or nothing with me, Your Grace, and the fact that I’m standing here without my panties four months after my husband died means I’m pretty much back to my old tricks.” Her voice faltered. “Which is a lot more depressing than even you can imagine.”
“He was in a coma long before he died. And from what you’ve said about the kind of man he was, I can’t believe he’d have expected you to live the rest of your life in mourning.”
“You’re missing the point. This isn’t good for me.”
“It was bloody well good enough for you half an hour ago.”
He refused to understand, which made it time to hit him with her full arsenal. “I don’t tend to separate sex and the illusion that I’m falling in love.”
The instant wariness in his eyes told her she finally had his attention. “Sugar Beth, you don’t honestly believe…”
“That I’m falling in love with you? Why not? Look at all the practice I’ve had. And if that’s not enough to send you running for the hills, it’s sure enough to make me grab for a pair of Nikes.” She took in a little air so she could get through the rest. “That’s why I’m dumping you.”
His concern faded, and indignation took its place. “Like hell. I’m not one of your toy boys, Sugar Beth. You can’t toss me aside just because you’re having one of your snits.”
“Have you listened to what I’ve said?”
“Every word. And all of it twaddle. You’re far too accustomed to having men roll over at your command. Well, this man doesn’t roll.”
“I’m sure your brain will kick in any minute now.”
He wrapped the threadbare towel low on his hips, spoiling a magnificent view. “There’s no need for all this drama.”
“Let me make it a little clearer. I’ve been involved with enough painful relationships to last a lifetime, and I’m not doing it again. Ever.”
“Agreed. Pleasure only.”
“You’re either stone-deaf or the stupidest man on earth.”
“Stop being so stubborn.”
She clutched the towel tighter and headed for her bedroom. “If you want to be an idiot, go ahead, but you’re taking that long walk to the gas chamber all by yourself. This affair is over.”
His voice drifted over her shoulder, low and full of purpose. “That, my dear, is what you think.”
GEORGETTE HEYER,
