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"Thank God for Sarita, then. Just as a matter of curiosity, when you said it
happens every time how many times are we talking about? Because I had the
impression there hadn't been a huge number of men in your life."
She sniffed and tried to chuckle at the same time and nearly choked. "Luke, are
you by any chance asking me how many men I've been to bed with?"
"Purely in an advisory capacity," he assured her, his hands stroking soothingly
up her back.
"Well, I'm not telling you in any capacity. But you're right," she added with a
sigh. "There haven't been that many. Enough, though, for me to know the problem
isn't them. It's me."
"I see. Well, the first thing to do " He scooped her up in his arms.
She squawked and grabbed his neck one-handed. "What are you doing?"
"The first step is to define the problem," he continued as if she hadn't spoken.
He carried her to the room's only chair and sat down with her in his lap. "And you
know, Maggie, I don't think your problem is sex."
In her current position, she couldn't help noticing that he hadn't lost interest in
what they'd been doing before she humiliated herself. Not at all. "You know, Luke,
I think you're a few bubbles shy of a bath. Of course the problem is sex."
"No, you don't seem to have any trouble there." He smiled at her as easily as if
he weren't stone-hard and throbbing beneath her bottom. "You say you have a
healthy interest in the opposite sex. You like kissing and to use your words all
the rest of it, and my personal experience confirms that. Your problem isn't sex.
It's climaxing."
She buried her flaming face against his shoulder.
"Have you ever climaxed?"
"I am so not going to answer that," she told his shirt.
"You also have a little trouble with communication. If you had discussed this
with, ah, any of your other partners "
"Oh, no. I tried that with Carl. Big mistake."
"You are talking about Carl Bronski, the baseball hunk with a room
temperature IQ?"
She grinned without moving her face from its hiding place. "That's him. Carl
might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he's a really sweet guy. At least,
he was until& "
"Until you crushed his ego with the news that you weren't seeing stars and
rockets."
She sighed. "Yeah." His shirt was a soft, faded cotton. It felt good against her
cheek. "I guess Carl wasn't a good choice for an intimate tête-à-tête."
"Especially if you used big words like that and confused him." His hand settled
on her hip. "I can't help wondering & why me? I mean, after the fiasco last year &
though I didn't know until tonight just how much of a disaster that was, you did.
Why would you want to, ah& "
For once he was having trouble getting the words out. She liked that. "Seduce
you? A lot of reasons." Some of which she had no intention of revealing like the
fact that she used to be in love with him. "For one thing, if things didn't go well, I
didn't think you'd get all bent out of shape about it. You know you're good."
He was silent a moment. "Excuse me. Did you accidentally compliment me just
now?"
She grinned and, at last, felt comfortable enough to straighten, which put her
head even with his. Her fingers had made a mess of his hair, she noticed. Good. At
least some part of him was ruffled every part of her was. "You can take it that
way if you like," she said generously.
An odd shadow passed through his eyes. "So that's why you picked me?
Because you thought I wouldn't make you feel even worse about yourself?"
"Well, your ego wouldn't be involved, so Luke? Is something wrong?"
"Other than the obvious, you mean?" He smiled wryly and shifted his legs,
settling her more on his thighs, less on that interesting bulge. "No. Go on. Tell me
more about what a great lover you thought I'd make."
"I don't think so. You've heard too much of that already." He'd heard too much
of all sorts of things tonight. Right this moment she felt more relieved than
embarrassed about it, but Maggie knew herself too well to believe that would last.
By tomorrow morning she'd be hunting for ways to live with Luke without ever
having to face him again.
Just thinking about tomorrow brought the first lick of mortification to her
cheeks. "Uh & I think it's time for me to crawl off and lick my wounds in private
now." Rather awkwardly she slid off his lap.
"All right. Order something from room service," he said, standing and starting
for the door. "I don't think that pizza is going to get eaten tonight."
"Probably not." He'd agreed to leave easily enough now that he knew all her
secrets. And why not? In spite of his lingering arousal, he wouldn't want to hang
around and try again after all she'd told him. And could she blame him? She
wasn't sure she'd want to try again, anyway. She'd be so horribly self-conscious
she'd be bound to fail.
No, she thought, trailing after him unhappily. Best to put tonight and her stupid
plan behind her, forget any of it had ever happened.
Luke opened the door but paused, turning to look at her. He didn't say
anything. Just stood there studying her face, which was rapidly growing hotter.
"What is it?" she said crossly. "Did you forget something?"
He shook his head. His mouth smiled, but his eyes were sad. "A last word of
advice. Sex isn't a competition, Maggie. It isn't something you can fail at or win."
More briskly, he added, "Now, don't bother coming up with ways to avoid me. I'm
not going to let you hide away and convince yourself you're humiliated."
"You know me too well."
"Besides," he said, tracing a finger along her cheek, "I still have to seduce you."
"Wh-what?"
His smile widened slowly, packing tons of wicked suggestions in one subtle
curve. "You don't need to be the seducer, Maggie. You need to be seduced. The
best way to stop trying to win is to lose right off the bat. Lose control. Lose& " His
finger did delicious and scary things along the line of her parted lips.
"Everything."
When the door closed gently behind him, Maggie was still standing stock-still,
her lips tingling.
At midnight, Luke was still awake. He sat in the darkness with the TV turned on
and the sound turned off, his legs stretched in front of him, slouching low in the
uncomfortable chair his hotel room boasted. He'd pulled the drapes back so he
could look out the window at the city lights spangling in the darkness twenty
floors below.
The room had other amenities that made up for the uncomfortable chair. He
was sipping at one of them, a neat glass of Scotch he'd poured from the second
tiny bottle he'd opened after leaving Maggie alone in her room.
He should have stayed with her. He'd meant to. He'd cuddled her in his lap with
that in mind, planning to get her used to his physical nearness. He'd intended to
stay the night with her, to sleep with her chastely, at first. Women needed
holding. It was a truth that was so obvious to Luke he didn't understand why
more men couldn't see it. Some women longed for arms around them more than
they hungered after the fireworks Maggie was worried about, and accepted sex as
the price of being held.
And why not? he thought moodily. Hadn't he taken the same sort of comfort
himself at times?
In the morning, he could have finished taking care of Maggie. When she was all [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]