My heart soared. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”
~ * ~
Eva
An hour later, after a therapeutic soak and a whole lot of aromatherapy, I was second-guessing myself. Was I doing the right thing? Yes, I could admit, I didn’t really want to spend the rest of the night alone, wallowing in self-pity, but was I sending the wrong signal by asking him to stay?
I dressed in comfortable sweats and a tank, and then threw on an old concert hoodie. It didn’t smell nearly as good as Jace’s jacket, but those pheromones were too powerful, and my defenses were already pretty weak at that point.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I entered the kitchen, but it sure wasn’t what I found. The table was set for two, complete with candles, and my counters were littered with a dizzying assortment of takeout Chinese, Italian, and Mexican food.
Jace turned around when he heard my gasp and handed me a mug of steaming hot herbal tea.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he said, his grin both adorable and sexy. “So, I ordered from every place that delivered within a couple mile radius.”
I felt tears pricking the backs of my eyes. It was such an incredibly sweet, thoughtful gesture.
He misunderstood, his smile fading and the concern in his eyes deepening again. “If you don’t like any of this, I can order something else.”
“It’s not that.” In fact, there was nothing there I didn’t like. I just didn’t allow myself to eat any of it, except on extremely rare, special occasions, and even then, only in small quantities.
“Then, what is it?” he asked, bemused.
“Do you know how many calories are in this stuff?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
“No, and I don’t care either. Jace’s first rule of Enjoying the Company of a Beautiful Woman: fuck the calories.” He smirked and then added, “But if it bothers you that much, we can proceed afterward to Jace’s second rule of Enjoying the Company of a Beautiful Woman.”
“Which is?”
“Highly physical and creative ways of expending copious amounts of energy to work off those calories.”
That warm feeling in my center expanded outward. I was completely and utterly charmed by this man, but I wasn’t about to let him know that. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and arched an eyebrow at him.
“Not like that,” he said with a wink. “Jeez, you have a dirty mind, woman. Though I’m game if you are.”
He opened several of the containers and scooped a sampling of each on the plates he’d set out. Then, he pulled out a chair and held it for me.
When I remained in the doorway, he said, “Come on. You know you want to.”
Yes, I really did even though I knew it was a bad idea. My stomach chose that moment to let out a loud, rumbling growl. Everything smelled wonderful, Jace Logan and his pheromones included.
“Sit. Eat,” he commanded.
My lips twitched at his bossy tone. “Last I checked, I was responsible for you, not the other way around.”
There was that grin again. “Not tonight, sweetheart.”
My heart—and a few other things—fluttered and tingled.
Sometimes, it’s easier to surrender than to fight, I thought as my feet moved toward the table.
I’d had a rough day. I was worn out, both mentally and physically, and my resistance was low. Add on the fact that I really wanted what he offered—delicious food and the pleasure of his company—and I really couldn’t think of a single good reason why I should fight him.
I was entitled to treat myself once in a while, wasn’t I?
I sat down and eyed the heaping plate in front of me while Jace took the adjacent seat. Then, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. If I was going to indulge, I was going to make this a full-sensory experience.
I savored every bite; it was delicious. Because I was eating so slowly, I only managed to eat about a quarter of the food on my plate by the time Jace polished off second helpings, but I was more than satisfied.
I sipped from the small glass of wine he’d set next to my tea. I looked at all of the delicious food he’d ordered and took in the softly flickering candlelight. Somehow, this man had managed to press every one of the right buttons to get me to relax. Though I barely knew him, I felt strangely at ease around him.
“So, do you want to talk about it?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him no, I didn’t. That I preferred to handle this as I did most everything else—by keeping it bottled up inside and left alone to wallow in my misery in my own personal, private way. But that would be a lie.
So, instead, over takeout and tea and candlelight and wine, the words began to spill out, and once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop.
Jace listened. He let me go on and on, and then he continued to listen as we wrapped up the leftovers together and put them away. We carried the candles into the living room where he convinced me to sit between his legs while he used those incredibly skilled fingers across my shoulders and neck until my words became sluggish and my eyes started to close.
~ * ~
I didn’t open my eyes at first. It was one of those rare, intensely blissful moments when nothing hurt or ached. I feared that if I moved, the moment would be lost.
I lay there like that for a while, my thirty-something body appreciating each detail of the reprieve in a way my younger self never could have. The warmth and coziness of my bed conforming perfectly to my body. The high snuggle factor of my blanket cocooned around me. The soothing, steady background rhythm in my ear along with that delicious, masculine scent.
Wait. What?
My eyes popped open, my lethargic brain scrambling to catch up. That soothing background pulse wasn’t my heartbeat, but his. The incredible warmth and coziness came not from a blanket, but from being held snugly against a hard male body. I wasn’t in my bed, but fully clothed on the couch in my living room.
With Jace Logan.
My client.
Also, the man who had come to my house because he was concerned about me. The one who’d insisted I take a relaxing bath while he made me tea and ordered an insane variety of food because he didn’t know what I liked. Who’d listened to me drone on for hours and then held me through the night, keeping the nightmares and loneliness at bay, giving me the best sleep I’d had in years.
Ever so carefully, I turned in his arms to face him. He growled softly in his sleep, adjusting his hold and trapping my legs with one of his own, like I was some kind of life-sized teddy bear.
That made me smile.
As he sighed and settled back down, I took the opportunity to study him. He really was a handsome man, his masculine features roguishly boyish in slumber. Locks of tussled dark-brown silk tumbled over his forehead. Sinfully long lashes made angelic crescents along either side of his straight nose. A strong but not overly prominent jawline was dusted with a scruff of dark growth, which made me want to rub my face against it, curious to discover if it was scratchy or soft.
Also, I wanted to kiss him again. Badly.
Giving in to the temptation, I pressed my lips to his. He growled again, a soft, low sound that came from the back of his throat and resonated through my body. He shifted, pulling me into his hardness, one part conspicuously more so than others.
“Do that again,” he whispered.
My rational, logical self tossed up plenty of reasons why I shouldn’t. It was wrong. He was my client. I was vulnerable. That initial physical attraction I’d felt was already blossoming into something more, and I needed to apply the brakes before things went too far.