Holland Springs was like a black hole when it came to cell coverage. He’d had better coverage in the jungles of Burma.
With a great sigh, he climbed into his rental and headed back to the bed and breakfast he’d stayed last night. For the past two days he’d bided his time, kept his distance and for the most part confined himself to his room.
The road forked up ahead. To the left lay Zoe and silent recrimination. To the right lay sleep and disturbing dreams.
And loneliness.
He clenched his jaw, jerked the wheel and headed home.
***
“Why are you here?” Zoe slid her keys across the side table and they fell onto the floor. She smacked her hand against her skirt.
“I assumed that living with one’s wife was a custom practiced here,” Christian said, rising from the sofa. And he missed her. “Besides, the mattress is rather lumpy at the b&b. Thought I’d give yours a go.”
He’d been waiting in her house for over an hour. A quick search under the doormat had revealed the hidden key. A habit that needed to change. Immediately. Picking up her keys, he handed them back to her. Their fingers brushed. Desire hit him hard and his gut clenched.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” she said him, her voice shaky.
He tried very hard to be patient. He tried very hard to keep it together and not touch her. But she tilted that cute little nose of hers and bit her lush bottom lip.
To hell with patience. He lifted her easily in his arms and strode to her bedroom.
“Put me down,” she said, but he noticed she didn’t try to wriggle out of his arms.
“Don’t worry, love. I don’t plan on sleeping with you either.” He held her closer and breathed in her familiar scent. What an idiot he’d been. She’d smelled just as she always had, like honeysuckle.
After shutting the door behind him, he let her slide to the floor, making sure she felt every hard inch of him.
Her breath hitched and he couldn’t wait another second. He tangled his fingers in her hair and brought his mouth to hers. She slid her arms around his neck and he groaned. He followed the lush contours of her body, rubbing the small of her back with his fingers.
“I need you, Zoe. I missed you.”
She leaned back in his arms, tears in her eyes. “I saw pictures of you and that fruit woman. I was inundated with reporters calling and emailing me. I had to change my number. I couldn’t come home for three weeks, because I was afraid they’d be here.”
Actually, she’d had nothing to worry about. As soon as he’d learned the press had been hounding her, he’d paid them all off. All but one. The bastard. Then he’d sent security to Palm Island to keep an eye on her.
“Peaches’ name is Kate.”
“I don’t care what Pineapple’s name is. She slept with my husband.” Her hand clamped over her mouth and she back away from him.
“That’s right, love. I’m still your husband.” He stalked her across the room, taking off his shirt and tossing it to the floor. “I’ve been entirely faithful to you. Kate’s in love with my brother. Always has been and he’s too preoccupied being up my father’s ass to notice.”
She sat down on the bed. “Maybe she can’t tell the two of you apart.”
Sitting beside her, he placed his hand over hers. She crossed her arms and scooted away.
He scanned the room, at a loss as to what to do next. The massive California king had been replaced. A large four poster bed filled the room instead. Settled against the headboard were four of the largest and softest looking pillows he’d ever seen. Multi-colored quilts covered the top and made him want to sink down in it.
“This bed looks much better than the other one,” he said. “More you.”
“I gave the old one to Heath. He put this one back in here for me,” she said, turning away from him.
He gently stroked her hair. Spying a brush on the nightstand, he grabbed it. As he brushed the long, silky strands, her shoulders dropped their rigid stance and her head leaned with his strokes.
Her shoes hit to the floor with a thud. To his astonishment, she stood, letting her shirt fall to the floor and then her ankle length skirt.
He swallowed. Hard. Dropping the brush, he scooted back on the bed until the cold headboard hit his back.
Of course, his wife was wearing the pinkest and laciest pair of panties that he’d ever seen. They even had the tiniest of ribbons holding them together at the sides. And she had on above the knee striped knit stockings. Like the kind you’d see in a winter pictorial of a sexy ski bunny.
“Turn around,” he said thickly. Miracle of all miracles, she obeyed him.
Dark hair waved over her shoulders and curled around the pink lace cups of her bra. She crawled across the quilt and straddled his thighs. “See something you like?”
Was she insane? Of course he did. He’d dreamed of her wearing every piece of lace imaginable, then slowly removing it from her body with his teeth.
“Did you wear this because you thought I might be seeing it?”
“Maybe.”
He leaned forward, his eyes trained on her pretty dark ones and tugged a lace covered nipple into his mouth. She shifted forward, silk brushing over his c**k and making his eyes roll back at the sensation. He sucked harder on the ever tightening bud, until she clutched at his head and gasped.
Nuzzling the valley between her br**sts, he worked at the clasp of her bra until he was able to pull it down and feast on the sight before him. Pink ni**les and creamy br**sts the same color and size as before, not that he expected anything different. She was perfect. He lifted his eyes to hers. “So damn beautiful. I wish I were a bloody poet.”
“Touch me,” she commanded softly. He was more than happy to do her bidding. He was her willing slave.
He skimmed his hands along the curve of her back and shoulders. The softness of her skin never ceased to amaze while her sweet response humbled him. She made him feel loved.
Tonight, he was going to take his time with her. Worship every inch of her until she knew without a doubt that he loved her and was here to stay.
Zoe’s lips were on his neck, then his jaw before she licked at his ear and bit down. He growled low in his throat and jerked her closer, hard ni**les scraped his bare chest.
“I’m not leaving you again.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head away.
“Not until morning anyway,” she said, slowly pulling on the ribbons that held her lingerie together, her movements graceful.