FIVE
WITHOUT LOOSENING HIS HOLDON her, he moved her to a door on the opposite side of the room. “Shower or bath?” he asked, opening the door onto what was quite possibly the most beautiful bathroom Claire had ever seen.
Huge Carrara marble tile covered the floor, and smaller matching tile ran up the wall from the floor to the ceiling with a strip of glass mosaic banding the room at chair rail height. White porcelain vessel sinks sat on top of dark ebony vanities and the corner of the room held a huge glass enclosed shower lined with the glass mosaic tile. But it was the freestanding tub that made Claire suck in a breath. It was deep enough to sink into and let the hot water dissolve her worries.
New plan, long long hot bath instead of a shower and nap. The caveman wouldn’t need to know the difference.
“This is so beautiful, Luke.” The modest size of the bedroom had made her assume it was a guest suite but there were toiletries in the shower and a toothbrush on the counter. And if this was the guest bath, what did the master look like? She couldn’t imagine anything better than the room she stood in.
Didn’t matter. She could save that puzzle for another time. Not that there was going to be another time, but she didn’t need to think about any of that now. She’d take a bath, find her footing again and work everything out. She always did.
“I’d love to take a bath if you don’t mind.” She flashed him her best reassuring smile, eager for him to take his distracting presence away so she could sink into that tub and catch her breath.
“Of course,” he said, letting go of her to turn on the tap.
Claire tried to convince herself she was glad he no longer held her. That she didn’t miss the feeling of his body sheltering hers.
The sound of rushing water filled the room and steam curled from the tub. Luke poured in a thin stream of liquid from an expensive looking green bottle and the scent of bergamot rose to meet her. She inhaled, breathing in the spicy citrus scent and let her eyes drift closed in pleasure. If he’d hurry up and leave she could immerse herself in all those delicious bubbles. She opened her eyes to thank him and tell him she could take it from there and found him standing in front of her.
The look on his face was so fierce, hungry and full of need, her stomach gave a flip and her desire flamed to life in answer. Exhaustion had lowered her defenses. Combined with the fact that she just had the first real meal she’d eaten in days, her body’s response to him was primal. She wanted him, wanted him with an ache like the one she had for food or rest. It wasn’t something she could think away or reason through, and she took a step back to avoid reaching for him.
“Sit down,” he said, pulling over a stool from beside the vanity. His voice held some of the strain she felt.
She dropped to the soft cushion. “I can take…” She started but before she could get out the rest of the words, he was on his knees before her, working loose the laces on her boots. His dark head dipped in front of her and she clenched her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him and tangling her fingers in his soft curls.
“You don’t have to do this,” she said, as he tugged off one of her boots.
He peeled off her sock and ran the pad of his thumb down her arch. She gave a groan of pure pleasure, letting her head fall back. She should stop him, but God, there was no way. He pressed into her arch and massaged her heel, easing the pressure that built up there. She melted under his hands. By the time he’d finished the process with her other foot, she was gripping the edge of the stool to keep from sliding off.
Luke leaned back to turn off the tap and then helped her to stand. But instead of leaving so she could get undressed in privacy, he reached for the waistband of her jeans.
“Wait,” she said, swatting ineffectively at his hands. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you into the tub.” He said it like she was an idiot for not understanding.
“No way.” She shoved against his chest, but she may as well have been pushing at a mountain. “Listen,” she said, trying to sound reasonable in spite of her racing heart. “I appreciate you looking out for me this afternoon. Really, I do. But this was never supposed to be about sex. I think I should go.” Saying the words was supposed to make her feel better, so why did she feel disappointed?
“Relax, Claire.” Luke stepped closer, popping the button on her jeans and nuzzling the skin behind her ear. “Let me take care of you. I need to do this.”
Delicious tremors ran through her, and desire burned hot low in her body in spite of her intentions. The man was like a drug. One she didn’t seem able to quit.
“And,” he said, scraping the pulse at the base of her throat with his teeth as he slid the denim off of her hips. “When I finally fuck you, it will be because you beg me to.”
The thrill of his statement had her heart beating out of her chest and her mind warring between anticipation and worry that his words would come true.
LUKE DIDN’THAVE any idea why he was torturing himself with Claire. More than breathing, he wanted to bend her over the sink, rip off her panties and sink balls deep into her sweet pussy, fucking her until they both came, screaming, completely alive. But when she’d fallen – literally – into his arms, something shifted for him. Instead of it being about what he wanted, his world had turned on its axis shifting the focus to what she needed. And what she needed was food, a long hot bath and sleep.
So why, for the love of God didn’t he leave her to it? He fed her, drew her bath and showed her his bed. All he had to do was walk out the door and go down the hall to his office. He’d fought with himself every step of the way, but he couldn’t make himself leave her.
When he watched her slip off the ladder his heart stopped beating. He wanted her since the moment they met, but he hadn’t realized how important she was to him until she’d started to fall. He had no idea what to do with the emotions, but by now he knew it was foolish to waste time fighting them. And that was another thing. Why his bed? He owned property all over the city. He could have taken her to a half a dozen penthouse suites. Why had he brought her to his home and then been so fucking pleased when she liked it? He never brought women to his place. Never.
Claire was proving to be a puzzle he didn’t think he had a chance of solving. So he’d do what had always served him in his business. He’d concentrate on the path right in front of him until the rest of the road became clear. For now, he’d help her bathe and relax. He’d tuck her into his bed and then when she was asleep, he and his raging hard on would take an icy shower.
He pushed her jeans down her legs, steadying her as she stepped out of them. He stripped off her T-shirt, amazed when she didn’t try to stop him. And then she stood in front of him naked except for her pale pink bra and the scrap of lace panties. Fuck. From now on every time he saw her in work clothes on the job site, he’d imagine her like this. Her body with nothing but a few triangles of lace, holding onto her feminine curves.
“My God,” he said, letting the honest appreciation seep into his voice. “You are so fucking gorgeous, Claire. Jesus.” Her blush flushed her cheeks a pretty rosy color that only made him want her more. She wasn’t anything like the vain preening women he usually dated. He didn’t think she had any idea how beautiful she was, and it only added to her appeal.
“Turn around, sweetheart,” he said, guiding her so she faced away from him. She was pliant and accommodating. The only thing that gave away how much it cost her to follow his instructions was the fine trembling he felt under his hands when he touched her.
