“What do you want from me?” he murmured without moving. “Sometimes the way you look at me…it’s as if you want to be with me. And yet…the second I act on that, you shut me down.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
After another strained pause, during which she went on touching his hair, he turned to face her again and unzipped his sleeping bag. “Come here.”
Gail’s heart pumped hard and fast. She’d done it now; she’d started down the path of no return. But she couldn’t blame Simon. He was right about the way she looked at him. And what else could he assume when she kept touching him?
“Maybe…maybe we should lay down some ground rules first,” she said.
“What kind of ground rules?”
“How about this can only happen once. And it doesn’t mean anything. Those kinds of rules.”
“There isn’t any need.”
But the next few minutes would change everything. At least for her. She wet her lips. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. You coming or not? Because it’s cold, and I’m going to zip this thing up if you’re not.”
Supremely conscious of the fact that she’d chosen to wear a T-shirt and pajama bottoms—nightclothes that weren’t the slightest bit sexy just so she wouldn’t be tempted to do exactly what she was about to do—she took a deep breath and wiggled out of her own bag. Fleetingly she wondered if her underwear was attractive enough. She thought so. She’d recently bought new ones. Just marrying Simon was enough to make her worry about her underclothes.
Thinking of her panties made her question whether she should undress before climbing inside his bag. They already had his T-shirt and pajama bottoms to remove, which wouldn’t be easy in such a confined space.
The practical side of Gail suggested she strip now. But maybe that was unromantic. He didn’t tell her to....
In the end, she didn’t have the nerve. She figured he could get creative; after all, he had a lot more experience than she did.
“I’m a little self-conscious,” she admitted.
“Everything will be fine,” he said.
“But…talk about pressure.” She worried her lip. “You’ve been with supermodels and actresses and Olympic athletes.”
He surprised her with a laugh. “Where did you get Olympic athletes?”
“Just guessing. Some of them are pretty hot, right? And you can take your pick.”
Sobering, he lowered his voice. “It’s not a contest, Gail. You don’t have to compete with anyone.”
“I wouldn’t want to be your worst. I’d at least like to hit somewhere in the middle.”
“God, no wonder you don’t want to sleep with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind. Come on.”
The nerves in her stomach were making her jittery. “I’m just trying to tell you it’s been a long time for me. I’m out of practice.”
“How long has it been?”
“Three years.”
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Wow, you really are selective. How many men have you been with?”
“At one time?”
He raised his eyebrows.
“That was a joke.”
“You had me for a second. How many?”
She considered lying. Too few might make her seem like she wasn’t playful or sexy enough—or someone guys sought out. But she figured he should know what he was getting into. “Two.”
“That makes it easy to see why you’re self-conscious. But it’s just me, right? You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Just you…” she repeated, and somehow managed to suppress a nervous giggle. She was going to sleep with one of the biggest movie stars on the planet. She figured she had a right to be anxious about it. But after he’d helped her inside his bag and managed to zip it up, he simply enfolded her in his arms. He didn’t even kiss her.
“Simon?” she said when minute after minute ticked away and he didn’t move. He seemed to be going to sleep....
“What?” he mumbled.
Sure enough, he sounded as if he was just on this side of sleep. “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?”
“No.”
Shocked, she blinked at the darkness. She couldn’t look into his face. The way he was holding her kept her cheek against his chest. “Why not?” she whispered.
“Because you’ll only regret it in the morning.”
This was not the answer she’d been expecting. He’d tried to make sex part of her contract, for crying out loud. “How do you know?”
“You don’t trust me.”
She considered that before breaking the silence again. “So…what are we going to do?”
His hand swept her hair back as his lips brushed her forehead. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to sleep.”
“Have you ever just…slept with someone like this before?”
“Only my wife.”
So she hadn’t gone too far. He was offering her the comfort of his body in an asexual way and she sort of liked that. It certainly eased her fear and anxiety, even her self-consciousness.
As she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of warm male, she experienced a strange sense of satisfaction. Maybe this wasn’t as exciting as a sexual encounter, but it was oddly gratifying. “You smell good,” she whispered.
His hand slipped up the back of her shirt. But he didn’t bring it around to her br**sts. He merely flattened his palm against her bare skin. Then, slowly but surely, his breathing evened out and hers must have, too, because the next thing she knew it was morning.
* * *
Gail had slept deeply. But when she came to full awareness, she realized that the contentment she’d felt the night before was gone. She liked being in Simon’s arms just as much as before—didn’t want to be anywhere else. But after spending the night pressed to his body, the awkwardness of climbing into his sleeping bag had vanished. So had her reluctance to touch him and be touched by him. As a matter of fact, all she could think about was getting naked so she could feel more of him.
The love scene in Shiver played in her mind as Simon’s chest rose and fell with each breath. She imagined him making love to her as he and his costar had depicted, imagined his mouth moving down her stomach—
“What’s wrong?”
Her breath caught in her throat. He was awake. But his thoughts didn’t seem to be going in the same direction as hers. He didn’t sound happy to be disturbed. “Nothing, why?”