“You already had it.”
“You didn’t show it,” she grumbled.
“Let me show it now.” He grinned.
“More country matters?”
“If you’re lucky.”
He flipped her over to her stomach. Nina knew she was very, very lucky. Her desire for sex was suddenly insatiable. This fun kind of sex with laughter and tease, play, and torment. And it was shared—she wanted and felt wanted with equal force. Freed of her insecurity—of expectation—she could just relax and do and say what she wanted. And what she wanted was to touch him.
Sometime in the early hours speech between them became monosyllabic. A plea. An answer.
An affirmation.
Eight
Eduardo sat bolt upright the second he woke and realized he’d been in a deep, dreamless sleep. He never slept like that. Not so comfortable and relaxed and effortless. Now his skin chilled and his eyes widened. Was he late? He checked the clock. Hell, almost.
He had to move. He couldn’t miss seeing Caspar, not when it was so close for him. Eduardo rubbed a hand over his face, battling internally to get the strength to pull away from the warmth beside him.
As he’d thought, she’d offered so much more than sensual delight. Beautiful, she’d been shy then bold then fearless. Alive and responsive and enthusiastic. But her comment after that first time? Her first thought had been a fear that he’d lied to her? That had shot chills down his spine.
He understood that she’d been hurt and was insecure now. But he didn’t have the capacity to soothe an insecure woman. He’d tried before and failed spectacularly and the person who’d been hurt most had been him. He didn’t want a relationship. It would only be a matter of time before suspicion and jealousy rotted any happiness from the inside out. Not again. And Nina probably wasn’t the sort to cope with the hours he worked and the time he spent away from home.
Not that it mattered. She was leaving in a week. This had been one night only. That had been understood from the start.
But for a moment he toyed with the idea of seeing her more before she left. It would be good, but it wouldn’t be right. She wasn’t used to casual affairs, and veering off from a one-night stand to a five-day fling might be tricky for her to handle. And given what was likely to happen this week with Caspar?
If it happened, Eduardo wouldn’t be fit to see anyone in any capacity. Better to end it here and now and easy.
But leaving her soft, warm body was hard. He gritted his teeth and slipped out as quietly as he could, showering in the guest bathroom so he wouldn’t wake her. Then he made coffee.
“Nina.” He put the steaming cup on the small table nearest her side of the bed.
“Mm?” She smiled, but her eyes didn’t open.
Watching her lush mouth curve threatened his resolve. But they were out of time.
“Nina, I need you to wake up.” The sweet dream was over.
Her forehead creased and her eyes opened. All of a sudden, she came right awake, meeting his eyes. Hers widened when she saw how he was dressed. Yeah, in a suit and ready for work.
She quickly sat up and glanced at the coffee but didn’t reach for it. Eduardo took a sip of his, to stop himself from bending down and kissing her.
“What time is it?” she asked, her voice early morning husky.
Not the right time. And he wasn’t the right guy for her either. “Time for work.” He retreated to the doorway. “The car is coming for me. It’s not actually mine,” he said, needing to explain. “It belongs to my clients. They live at the Docklands. They send a driver for me to do a home visit and then he takes me back into town to the hospital.”
She sat up, keeping the sheet clutched close to her chest and not revealing anywhere near enough skin. “They’re important clients?”
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. Didn’t want to explain why the daily visits were so necessary. He didn’t want to see her pity—he had to keep his emotions under control, and right now he felt like his skin was too thin. “It’s their car. I can’t give you a lift. I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” she said crisply. “If you just give me a minute, I’ll be out of here.” She twisted awkwardly, trying to exit the bed while keeping herself covered.
“You can take a shower…” he trailed off and then just backed out the door.
In the hallway, he leaned against the wall for a second and closed his eyes. She wanted out of there as soon as possible—he read it on her face. No doubt he’d been too abrupt, too abrasive.
It didn’t matter, right? In fact, it was better in the long run. She had a trip to look forward to and he had work. This was the right thing.
So why did it feel wrong?
Nine
The plan was perfect. She left home half an hour earlier, got an earlier train, sat in the open-ultra-early café near her store and waited until it was time to open up. Doing that the last two days had ensured she hadn’t seen him. Today she walked as early and as quickly again. Of course, she could just walk to the Tube station in the other direction from her tiny, overcrowded flat, but then she’d have to change lines part way through her commute and damn it, she liked those Sherlock Holmes tiles in her own station.
Anyway, it had just been one night. She was cool with it.
Except she wasn’t quite that cool. And that was so stupid of her. So stupidly young and girly to think about him all the time. She knew why it was. He’d made her feel wanted. He’d made her feel desirable and sexy and like she was
