it was after midnight, she could see at least two cars still parked on the street, the paps keeping their eternal vigil and praying for the magic shot that would bring them their fortune.
Public Health now had the names of everyone who’d been quarantined, so the story would leak quickly. They’d all have to release statements.
She rested her cheek against the window frame and wondered what it would be like to go through life always speaking the truth. But she lived in the wrong town for that. This was a city built on illusion, on false fronts and streets that led nowhere.
The door opened behind her. She heard the inevitable clink of ice cubes and caught the scent of rain as he came nearer. “I didn’t mean it to turn out like this when I invited her inside. I’m sorry.”
His unsolicited apology took some of the wind out of her sails. “Exactly how did you expect it to turn out?”
“Look, I was pissed.” He kept his voice down in deference to the single wall separating them from their unwelcome visitors in the next room. “Where does that guy get off showing up here? Then the whole idea of Jade sitting in the car feeling sorry for you because she figures you’re so destroyed by their great love affair that you don’t have enough backbone to look her in the fucking eye. It got to me.”
“You weren’t going to make it.” He tugged at the buttons on his damp white shirt. “I’m sick of watching you wimp out whenever her name comes up. Where’s your pride? Stop believing she’s better than you.”
“I don’t-”
“Yes, you do. Jade may be better at some things. She sure as hell is better at going after another woman’s husband. But what Jade is or isn’t has nothing to do with you. Grow up and start being happy living in your own skin.”
“You’re talking to me about growing up?”
He wasn’t done ripping on her. “Jade and Lance were made for each other. He was no more the right man for you than…”
“Than you are?”
“Exactly.” He took a long swig from his glass.
“Thanks for your insightful input.” She snatched the robe and nightgown she’d fetched earlier and stomped into the bathroom to change. But as she washed her face, she had to admit Bram’s heart had been in the right place. Inviting Jade into the house had been his twisted version of being protective. He couldn’t have predicted the consequences.
When she came out, she found him propped against the pillows, wearing only a pair of knit boxer briefs that gleamed white against his skin. He’d kicked the covers back, and he had a book propped open on his chest. Seeing Bram Shepard reading a book looked weird enough, but not as weird as the pair of steel-rimmed glasses anchored to the bridge of his nose. She stopped dead. “What are those?”
“What?”
“You’re wearing glasses?”
“Just for reading.”
“You have
“What’s wrong with that?”
“People with tattoos shouldn’t have reading glasses.”
“I didn’t have them when I got the tattoo.” He slipped off the glasses and took in her T-shirt and blue pajama bottoms. “I was kind of hoping you’d be wearing one of those numbers from Provocative.”
“Even if I were in the mood, which I’m definitely not, I wouldn’t do it with them on the other side of this wall.”
“I see your point.” He got out of bed and pulled her across the carpet to the bathroom, where he shut the door and sealed them inside. “No more problem.”
“I’m still furious with you.”
“I understand. It’s only because I haven’t made a sincere-enough apology.” And he started to kiss her.
Chapter 18
Georgie hated movies where all the hero had to do to make the heroine forget she was mad at him was to kiss her senseless. She had no intention of putting her grievances aside that easily, just as she had no intention of giving up this welcome diversion. Instead, she poured her frustration into the kiss. She dug her fingernails into his bare shoulders and sank her teeth into his lip. She pushed her knee against…
“Hey, watch it,” he muttered.
“Shut up and earn your keep.”
He didn’t like that, and the next thing she knew, her pajama bottoms were around her ankles. She lifted her knee again, but he caught it, and in one motion, pushed that same knee far apart from its mate and set her hips on the long granite counter.
This was all he was good for. She snagged the waistband of his boxer briefs, but she couldn’t pull them off by herself. He released her to complete the job, and she dropped down off the counter. He kicked aside his briefs and set her back up. She squirmed away and headed for the glass block shower with its copper granite walls and multiple jets. Turning lovemaking into a power struggle was hardly the most mature way to handle a difficult relationship, but it was all she had right now.
“On second thought…” He stepped in with her.
She whipped her top over her head. “Turn the water on hard.”
He didn’t have to be asked twice, and within moments, the hot spray pounded their bodies.
Two people. One shower. She wanted Lance to hear.
And then Bram began rubbing her with soap, and she forgot all about Lance. Breasts, hips, thighs. Bram attended to everything. She took the soap from him and left her own slick swirls on his body.
“You’re killing me.” He groaned.
“If only.” She moved her hand to the place where it would have the most effect.
The water streamed over their bodies. He went to his knees and loved her with his mouth. Just as she was ready to fall apart, he set her against the hard wet walls and lifted her upon him. She clung to his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. They gasped and moved together, riding the flood to its crest.
“Don’t talk to me,” she said afterward. “I paid good money for that, and I don’t want it spoiled.”
He bit the side of her neck. “Mum’s the word.”
Despite her earlier resolution, she ended up in his bed, tossing and turning while he slept peacefully-except during a second bout of lovemaking that she might possibly have initiated, but only to cure her insomnia. Afterward, he had no trouble falling back to sleep, but she wasn’t so lucky. She crept out of bed and carried his unfinished tumbler of scotch to the turret, where she sat in one of the deep, comfortable chairs and gazed at the shadowy patterns on the walls. She didn’t like hard liquor, but the ice had long since watered it down, so she took a big swallow and braced herself for the hit to her stomach.
Something hit…but it wasn’t scotch.
She sniffed the glass and flicked on a table lamp. The remaining liquid had the faint brownish tinge of diluted alcohol, but not the taste. Slowly, it dawned on her…Bram and his bottomless tumblers of scotch…No wonder he never seemed drunk. All this time he’d been swilling iced tea! He’d told her that’s what he was drinking, but it had never occurred to her to believe him.
She rested her chin in her hands. One more vice down the drain. She didn’t like it. Bram was supposed to be a creature of excesses. Without his vices, who was he? The answer wasn’t long in coming. A more subtly dangerous version of the man he’d always been. A man who continued to prove that nothing he said, nothing he did, could be trusted.
Chaz couldn’t sleep. So much to do. So many people to take care of. The cleaning staff couldn’t come in because of the quarantine so she’d have to take care of everything. Meals to prepare, beds to
