So now he faced the uncomfortable truth. He hadn’t had sex with her. He’d made love to her. Just a very little love—which was as new to him as it was to her. And in those moments in her arms, connected with her, he’d have done anything forher. A loss of free will he’d never before experienced. She might have lost her virginity, but he’d lost something too. Some part of himself was now locked within her and he wasn’t sure he was going to get it back. A chunk of his heart he only now realized he’d actually had. He figured it served him right.
He also figured he could live without it. After all, he’d only just discovered it anyway so he could hardly miss it now. Besides, he was too busy wondering how soon until she’d be ready to take him again, or whether she was too tender—emotionally as well as physically. He frowned. He really had to keep a lid on this somehow. Stop her from wanting too much other than the physical. Because he really wanted her to want some more physical. But how the hell did he balance it?
‘You like sleeping in here?’ She broke the silence lazily, stretching out on the bed beside him with a little moan that made his blood rush all over his beat body.
‘It has the best view,’ he answered without thinking.
From his bed he could see straight out that one window across the floor—its view encompassed the garage, and that other window in the flat above.
‘Have you been watching me?’
He could hear her smile. ‘I’ve seen you in the garden a few times. But you know that.’
She rolled towards him, then he felt her smile kiss his shoulder. ‘Yes, I know.’
He cleared his throat. Hoped she didn’t think he’d been watching because he was besotted or anything. She wore the skimpiest shorts and vest-top combos ever—of course he looked. Any man would. Oh, man, how did he handle this now?
But she rose up onto her elbow and peered, reading his expression. ‘Stop looking so worried, Gabe. I’m not going to fall in love with you,’ she scoffed.
He stared at her. Since when was he that much of an open book?
She smiled—easy and amused and happy. ‘I told you last night, I’m not going to want anything more from you.’
Good. ’Cos he didn’t want that either—right? Only now, contrarily, he did want more. More like right now.
She leaned right over him, brushing her hair back behind her ears, her blue eyes looking earnestly into his. ‘You know I’m not interested in a relationship, right? As fantastic as that was and as gorgeous as you are.’
He managed to nod. She’d just spoken words he’d said so often in the past.
‘This was just a one-off.’
A one-off.Really?‘Sure.’ He faked a grin.
She smiled wider, clearly genuine. ‘Great. The minute the whistle blows on the final this season, I’m out of here. I’m booking my ticket as soon as the bank lets me.’
‘You really are?’ He’d been wondering about those plans of hers.
‘Yeah, so don’t renege on our rental agreement, will you? I need the money to pay for it.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘I won’t.’
‘Great.’ She slipped out of the bed with a way too energetic wriggle. ‘I really appreciate your effort today. Thank you.’
So that was it? He’d helped her lose the virgin tag and she’d appreciated his effort in doing so? It was like getting a report card from school. Hiseffort!Where was the bloody award of excellence? Didn’t she know out-of-this-world sex when she had it?
His heart seized. One day she’d learn that that hadn’t been average sex. He tried to stop that direction of his thoughts—because the idea of her being in some other guy’s arms, of some guy not doing it good enough for her? Oh, now he was beyondgrumpy. His freakingeffort!The more he thought about it, the more it stung. The more he wanted to roar.
She glanced back, brows lifting at his silence and her skin suddenly washed beet red. ‘Oh, I’m sorry about...’
He glanced down, then quickly covered the stained sheet. ‘Forget it.’
But it was as if she had already. Oh, the irony.Hewas the one feeling like the emotional innocent. As if sleeping with someone made you feel something more than mere physical fun. Intimacy. Caring. As if it all should have mattered so much more to her than to warrant a goodeffortsticker. Damn. He couldn’t be feeling used because he’d known exactly what she’d wanted. It was what he’d wanted too. Those desires had finally converged and now it was finished. Right? Sure.
She was slipping her dress over her head, not bothering with either bra or knickers. He was trying hard not to get turned on by that. And failing.
‘You’re going?’ he asked.
It was obvious doofus. Did he have to make his unexpectedly massive disappointment just as obvious?
