From This Moment On
Page 10
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It was nice. Really, really nice. Although, she quickly noted, there was nothing all that personal about it either, almost as if it were just an extended version of one of her fancy hotel rooms.
Marcus must have noticed her taking it all in, because he said, “My brother owns the house.”
She could feel a flush move over her skin at his warm, somewhat rough voice. It was a voice at odds with his polished clothes and the fact that he was clearly a successful businessman. She liked that deep, raw edge very much. Too much, given the way her body was responding to a few simple words.
The dark shadow on his jaw should have seemed out of place, too, but, somehow, it didn’t. She remembered the calluses on his fingertips, musing that calluses and business suits were a dichotomy she couldn’t make sense of. But, oh, how she suddenly wanted to. Far too much than was wise for a man who was supposed to start and end as a perfect stranger.
“It’s very nice,” she replied.
And then it hit her. What if his brother was about to walk in on their cozy little coffee scene? Odds were pretty darn low that he wouldn’t recognize her either.
For the thousandth time since she woke up, she wondered what she could possibly have been thinking, going home with Marcus from the club last night. It had seemed okay when it was just the two of them, when she could convince herself that finally finding pleasure was more important than anything else, but somehow knowing his brother was going to come down the stairs any minute and find her there in her totally inappropriate leather dress and bare feet made her feel like she’d made the world’s biggest mistake leaving her hotel room in the first place.
She started backing away from the counter. “I should leave before he—”
“Don’t worry, Nicola.” Marcus’s saying her name in that sinfully seductive voice of his had her stilling, the rest of her sentence falling away. “He’s out of town for work. It’s just you and me.”
Hearing that should have made her feel better. But it didn’t. Because she honestly wasn’t sure that being alone with Marcus was such a good idea. Not when she felt so off-kilter around him, not when her tongue was tied up in knots along with her stomach when they hadn’t so much as kissed last night.
Just think if they’d actually had the wild and crazy sex she’d been planning on. She’d be dying right now.
Dying.
Clearly, one-night stands weren’t her thing. And, suddenly, it seemed imperative that he know that about her.
“I’ve never done something like this before.” She made herself look up from the shiny black granite she’d been gripping for dear life. Unclamping her fingers from the edge, she saw the damp imprint of her hand on the surface, a telltale sign of just how nervous she was feeling.
“It’s been a while for me, too."
Unexpected jealousy hit her at the vision of Marcus standing in this kitchen with another woman that he’d picked up for a one-night stand. She had no claim on him, no right to that tightening of her chest.
But she felt it anyway.
Especially since she could place a million-dollar bet on the fact that she was the only woman who had ever dozed off...before they’d even had their first kiss.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you last night.”
His lips finally moved up into a small smile. He’d been so serious until now that she was beyond surprised to see the corners of his mouth twitch in an upward direction. Those butterflies that had gathered in her belly at her first sight of him in the club, so big and strong-looking, started flying in every direction at his smile.
She still wanted to kiss him, of course, but suddenly, she wanted to see him smile, too. Wanted to see his chocolate-brown eyes look at her with laughter and know that she was responsible for it.
“You were clearly exhausted.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his gaze was warm. Giving. He handed her a cup of coffee. “I didn’t mind being your pillow for the night.”
That same sweet feeling that had come over her when she’d learned what a good son and brother he was stole through her again. Nicola was sure any other guy would have been angry with her right now, would have been expecting her to drop to her knees, unzip his pants, and make up for what she hadn’t given him last night. But Marcus seemed more concerned about how she was feeling than he was with being left high and dry.
If he’d been coming at her aggressively demanding a do-over, she would have kicked him straight to the curb and been out of there so fast his head would spin. Instead, she was trying to find her footing in this strange new world where she’d finally met someone who didn’t seem to want anything from her at all.
Not her fame, which he clearly didn’t know about, and not even her body, which she’d outright offered to him less than a dozen hours ago...verbally, at least.
“You were a really great pillow.”
This time, the smile he gave her had her smiling back. She wasn’t a big believer in things she couldn’t see, taste, hear or touch, but in that moment she could have sworn an invisible ribbon reached out between them and wrapped itself around them both.
No longer quite as ready to run, she sat on one of the bar stools. “Please, sit with me."
Last night she hadn’t wanted to know anything about him beyond whether or not he could make her scream with pleasure. But since they hadn’t even gotten near first base due to her strangely narcoleptic behavior, she decided to give in to her urge to find out more about the mystery man who’d held her hand while she slept soundly for the first time in ages.
Marcus hesitated for several seconds, and just when she thought he was going to refuse her invitation, he picked up his cup and walked toward her.
“So, I take it you don’t live in San Francisco, either?”
He shook his head. “Napa Valley.”
“I’ve driven through it a couple of times and the area is really beautiful.” She left off the fact that she’d been there to play a couple of private gigs for some high-profile Napa residents. She sipped at her coffee again. “But I’m not much of a wine drinker.” She shrugged. “I never know what to order with what."
If she were being straight about who she was and what she did, she would have told him that even a light buzz made it hard for her to keep hold of her control. And with so many people surrounding her all the time asking her questions, coming at her with contracts and offers, she had to work double time to remain fully present and lucid. Which was why she rarely drank anything at all. Only with Kenny had she made that mistake. And how she’d paid for it.
Marcus must have noticed her taking it all in, because he said, “My brother owns the house.”
She could feel a flush move over her skin at his warm, somewhat rough voice. It was a voice at odds with his polished clothes and the fact that he was clearly a successful businessman. She liked that deep, raw edge very much. Too much, given the way her body was responding to a few simple words.
The dark shadow on his jaw should have seemed out of place, too, but, somehow, it didn’t. She remembered the calluses on his fingertips, musing that calluses and business suits were a dichotomy she couldn’t make sense of. But, oh, how she suddenly wanted to. Far too much than was wise for a man who was supposed to start and end as a perfect stranger.
“It’s very nice,” she replied.
And then it hit her. What if his brother was about to walk in on their cozy little coffee scene? Odds were pretty darn low that he wouldn’t recognize her either.
For the thousandth time since she woke up, she wondered what she could possibly have been thinking, going home with Marcus from the club last night. It had seemed okay when it was just the two of them, when she could convince herself that finally finding pleasure was more important than anything else, but somehow knowing his brother was going to come down the stairs any minute and find her there in her totally inappropriate leather dress and bare feet made her feel like she’d made the world’s biggest mistake leaving her hotel room in the first place.
She started backing away from the counter. “I should leave before he—”
“Don’t worry, Nicola.” Marcus’s saying her name in that sinfully seductive voice of his had her stilling, the rest of her sentence falling away. “He’s out of town for work. It’s just you and me.”
Hearing that should have made her feel better. But it didn’t. Because she honestly wasn’t sure that being alone with Marcus was such a good idea. Not when she felt so off-kilter around him, not when her tongue was tied up in knots along with her stomach when they hadn’t so much as kissed last night.
Just think if they’d actually had the wild and crazy sex she’d been planning on. She’d be dying right now.
Dying.
Clearly, one-night stands weren’t her thing. And, suddenly, it seemed imperative that he know that about her.
“I’ve never done something like this before.” She made herself look up from the shiny black granite she’d been gripping for dear life. Unclamping her fingers from the edge, she saw the damp imprint of her hand on the surface, a telltale sign of just how nervous she was feeling.
“It’s been a while for me, too."
Unexpected jealousy hit her at the vision of Marcus standing in this kitchen with another woman that he’d picked up for a one-night stand. She had no claim on him, no right to that tightening of her chest.
But she felt it anyway.
Especially since she could place a million-dollar bet on the fact that she was the only woman who had ever dozed off...before they’d even had their first kiss.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you last night.”
His lips finally moved up into a small smile. He’d been so serious until now that she was beyond surprised to see the corners of his mouth twitch in an upward direction. Those butterflies that had gathered in her belly at her first sight of him in the club, so big and strong-looking, started flying in every direction at his smile.
She still wanted to kiss him, of course, but suddenly, she wanted to see him smile, too. Wanted to see his chocolate-brown eyes look at her with laughter and know that she was responsible for it.
“You were clearly exhausted.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, but his gaze was warm. Giving. He handed her a cup of coffee. “I didn’t mind being your pillow for the night.”
That same sweet feeling that had come over her when she’d learned what a good son and brother he was stole through her again. Nicola was sure any other guy would have been angry with her right now, would have been expecting her to drop to her knees, unzip his pants, and make up for what she hadn’t given him last night. But Marcus seemed more concerned about how she was feeling than he was with being left high and dry.
If he’d been coming at her aggressively demanding a do-over, she would have kicked him straight to the curb and been out of there so fast his head would spin. Instead, she was trying to find her footing in this strange new world where she’d finally met someone who didn’t seem to want anything from her at all.
Not her fame, which he clearly didn’t know about, and not even her body, which she’d outright offered to him less than a dozen hours ago...verbally, at least.
“You were a really great pillow.”
This time, the smile he gave her had her smiling back. She wasn’t a big believer in things she couldn’t see, taste, hear or touch, but in that moment she could have sworn an invisible ribbon reached out between them and wrapped itself around them both.
No longer quite as ready to run, she sat on one of the bar stools. “Please, sit with me."
Last night she hadn’t wanted to know anything about him beyond whether or not he could make her scream with pleasure. But since they hadn’t even gotten near first base due to her strangely narcoleptic behavior, she decided to give in to her urge to find out more about the mystery man who’d held her hand while she slept soundly for the first time in ages.
Marcus hesitated for several seconds, and just when she thought he was going to refuse her invitation, he picked up his cup and walked toward her.
“So, I take it you don’t live in San Francisco, either?”
He shook his head. “Napa Valley.”
“I’ve driven through it a couple of times and the area is really beautiful.” She left off the fact that she’d been there to play a couple of private gigs for some high-profile Napa residents. She sipped at her coffee again. “But I’m not much of a wine drinker.” She shrugged. “I never know what to order with what."
If she were being straight about who she was and what she did, she would have told him that even a light buzz made it hard for her to keep hold of her control. And with so many people surrounding her all the time asking her questions, coming at her with contracts and offers, she had to work double time to remain fully present and lucid. Which was why she rarely drank anything at all. Only with Kenny had she made that mistake. And how she’d paid for it.
