Secret Affairs: The End of Faking It / Her Secret Fling / The Ultimate Risk. Natalie Anderson
he already had. When he kissed her, his body demanded hers to surrender. Still that step too far for her, but she was so tempted by him she knew she was going to have to figure out a way of working it in a way she could handle.
He was looking at her slyly. ‘So what’s the deal with your family?’
‘What do you mean?’ She pulled her legs up tighter and wrapped her arms around her knees. The temperature was really dropping now.
‘You haven’t been home in years and you take me, a near stranger, to ride shotgun on a dinner with your brother. There’s some kind of deal going on.’
‘There’s no deal,’ she said innocently. ‘I have a nice family.’
‘So what, you’re a runaway without a cause?’ He looked sceptical. ‘There has to be something. Some reason why you don’t want to marry or have kids. Not many women don’t want that. Most spend half their lives trying to manipulate their way into that situation.’
‘You have such a nice impression of women.’
‘I call it as I see it. And I like women a lot.’
‘You mean you like a lot of women.’
His grin didn’t deny it. ‘Why limit yourself? And you’re the same in that you don’t want to settle. Why not? Your parents have an ugly divorce or something?’
‘No, they’ve been married almost thirty years and they’re still happy.’ Her heart thudded.
‘Oh.’ Carter looked surprised. ‘That’s nice.’
‘Yeah, they’re good together. They’re not like you, they fully believe in forever happy.’
‘So why don’t you?’
She fell back on her stock avoidance answer. ‘I like my freedom. I like to travel. That’s what I do.’
‘And you really don’t want kids?’
Oh. He’d gone back to that. ‘No. I don’t want children. Most men who want to marry do. I don’t want to disappoint someone. It’s easier to be with men who don’t want either of those things.’
He looked serious. ‘Can you not have kids, Penny?’ he asked softly.
‘Oh, no,’ she said quickly. ‘No, it’s not that. As far as I’m aware, that’s all … fine.’ Even in the dim light, she figured her blush was visible. ‘I just don’t want to bring a kid into this world. It’s too cruel.’
He said nothing and eventually she settled back against the wall, tiredness beginning to pull her down. Age-old tiredness.
‘Who’s Isabelle?’
‘Sorry?’ Her tension snapped back.
‘You clammed up when Matt mentioned her last night,’ Carter said. ‘You’re clamming up now.’
Penny blew out a strangled breath. ‘She’s just someone from our home town.’ Then she let enough silence pass to point out the obvious—that she wasn’t talking any more. She suppressed a shiver and clamped her jaw to stop her teeth chattering. Curled her limbs into an even tighter bunch.
‘You’re cold.’ Carter shuffled closer to where she sat. ‘Come on, we have to keep warm.’
That was going to be impossible in this damp fridge. She went more rigid as he came close enough to touch. He sighed and put his arm around her, ignoring her resistance and pulling her down so they were half lying, half propped with their backs against the cold wall.
‘Go to sleep,’ he said softly, his body gently pressing alongside hers. ‘Nothing’s going to happen.’
Penny didn’t want to wake up, didn’t want to move. She was so deliciously warm, even her feet—which were like blocks of ice year round. And a soft wave of even greater warmth was brushing down her arm with gentle regularity.
She wriggled and the warm comfort tightened. The warmth was alive—male arms, bare arms, encircled her. So did bare legs. And against her back? Bare chest.
She jerked up into a sitting position. ‘Where are your clothes?’
‘You were freezing,’ he answered with a lazy stretch.
‘So you had to get naked to keep me company?’
‘Skin on skin, Penny. It was the best way I could think to warm you up. You wouldn’t wake up and I started to think you were getting hypothermic.’
Yeah, right. ‘It’s the middle of summer.’
‘And you’re in a basement that’s as cold as an icebox,’ he pointed out with a total lack of concern. ‘You’re warmer now, right?’
‘Yes.’ She was sizzling.
‘And you’re conscious, so it worked.’ He pulled her back down to lie against him. ‘And you liked it. You burrowed right up against me. You couldn’t have got closer.’ His arms tightened again. ‘No, don’t try to wriggle away. I’m feeling cold now. Your turn as caretaker.’
A tremor racked his body, but she could hear his smile. Faker.
She buried her smile in her arm so he couldn’t see it. But she didn’t try to move away again. Just another five minutes—what harm could that possibly do? He made a fantastic human hot-water bottle.
Then her stomach rumbled.
‘You’re hungry.’
Then his stomach rumbled too.
‘You are too.’ She giggled at how loud they gurgled.
‘Mmm. We didn’t have dinner.’ His breath warmed her ear. ‘What do you have for breakfast?’
‘Fruit, yoghurt and a sprinkle of cinnamon.’ Her mouth watered at the thought of it.
‘Cinnamon smells good,’ he drawled.
‘Yeah, so much better than chlorine.’ She could feel every inch of him. There were a lot of inches. ‘You’re in a bad way.’ The hard length pressed against the top of her thighs.
‘I can live with it.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Why?’ He moved suddenly. ‘You offering?’
He rolled above her. She shifted her legs that bit apart to welcome him. Yes, she was offering. Because she knew she couldn’t deny herself any more. Desire finally outweighed fear. Some sleep had restored perspective. Besides, given how hard he felt now, she felt confident in her ability to bring him home quickly.
He looked at her closely. She felt his body tense up even more and he smiled, bending forward to close the last inches between them. She closed her eyes, anticipating a full passion blast of a kiss.
Except he merely brushed his lips on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. So gently, too softly. ‘We have the most insane chemistry, Penny.’
She opened her mouth to downplay it.
‘No.’ He put his fingers across her lips. ‘Don’t play games. Just be honest. Always be honest with me.’
‘Okay.’ She could let him have that. ‘We have chemistry.’ Actually they had more than chemistry. They had some experiences and likes in common. And they also shared no desire for any kind of a relationship.
‘And we’re going to experiment with it.’
Except there was still that niggling suspicion it might blow up in her face. ‘What, like a science project?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘You weren’t kidding about not being romantic.’
‘You don’t like flowers. You don’t like chocolates. You hate romance too,’ he teased,