Page 12 of Say Yes

The air squeezed out of his lungs. He gasped and choked before he could manage to say, “Come again?”

Either she didn’t notice his shock, or she chose to ignore it. “I think about what it would be like with you.” She peeked up at him. “You know. Intimately. I was thinking about you just before the storm hit and made me leave my bath. They were very nice thoughts, Gavin.”

“Ah, Sara…” He sounded like he might strangle on his own tongue.

She sighed. “Karen would tell me all sorts of private things, boasting, you know, and I’d want to smack her because she was living my fantasies.”

Damn, he was hard. Really, really hard. It seemed every time he got his libido under control, she’d say something, or do something, or smile—Lord, he loved her smile—and then his body would react. He stayed semierect around her, though she was naive enough not to notice. But Karen had. He wondered if that was why she’d shared intimate details with Sara, to stake a claim of sorts. He shook his head. None of that mattered now, but the small woman curled against him deserved his better judgment, not his lust, which meant he couldn’t do a damn thing about the opportunity presenting itself.

He muttered a curse and she heard him. Peering up to see his face, she traced his mouth with her finger and he swallowed hard. She looked so…ready. Damn, did she look ready.

And physically she might be. But emotionally, he figured Sara had a long way to go before she would really trust him and accept his feelings for her. Right now, she didn’t seem to feel ready for anything more than a house pet. Damn, damn, double damn.

“Sara…”

“Don’t you want to know what my fantasies are?”

“No!” She was trying to seduce him, and succeeding admirably. If sex was all he’d wanted, he’d be the luckiest man alive. But he wanted so much more with her. And allowing her to do something she’d regret tomorrow wouldn’t aid his case. It’d make him damn happy for one night, there was no question about that, but in the long run, he’d lose out.

He held her at arm’s length, trying to convince himself of his own thoughts. “Sara, why don’t we talk about something else?”

She pushed against his rigid arms, trying to get closer again. “But—”

Her stomach growled, giving him the excuse to interrupt. “Are you hungry? What time did you eat dinner?” She continued to stare at him a moment, as if the change in topic had thrown her. Then she shrugged.

“I haven’t eaten yet. I was too tired when I got home, and I just wanted to soak in the wonderful Jacuzzi tub you installed in my bathroom. But then the storm hit, and I knew I had to close the windows. And then you were here, so…”

Images of her lounging in the spacious, tiled tub—naked and thinking of him—played havoc with his better intentions. A man could only take so much. He cleared his throat and tried to calm his racing heart. “Why were you so tired? A hard day?”

“All my days have been hard lately. I’ve been working twelve-hour shifts during the week, then volunteering my weekends to the animal adoption center.”

Gavin stared at her a moment before dropping his head into his hands. Wonderful. He’d been pouring wine down an exhausted, hungry woman. Then part of what she said really hit him. Twelve-hour shifts? He frowned at her, tilting her face up so he could better understand. “You’ve been putting in a lot of overtime?” She nodded, her eyelids drooping, and he asked, “Why?”

A look of sadness came over her face, and she seemed ready to cry. Gavin vowed then and there never to let her drink again. He’d always turned to mush around weeping women, and with Sara, he felt particularly susceptible.

“I love my house, Gavin.”

She said it in a near wail, startling him. “Calm down, babe, and tell me what the problem is.”

She threw her arms out, nearly slugging him in the eye. He ducked, then watched her cautiously in case she started to go off the couch again. “I can’t afford to stay here. I have to sell my beautiful house.”

“What?” He tried to sound surprised because he wasn’t ready yet to admit to stealing her sign.

She went on in a rush, making broad gestures with her hands. “I used most of my savings on the down payment. Ted was supposed to buy the furniture, and then pay half on all the monthly bills. The utilities, the groceries, the taxes, the insurance, the…”

“I understand.” He rubbed his forehead, frustrated. The house was rather expensive for a single person. His was only slightly larger and he knew how expensive maintenance could be.

He’d come to think of this house as Sara’s. Long before she’d actually moved in, he’d made it special for her, added little things, put in extras. He’d known she would love the tiled tub, and she had. He’d thought of her reaction as he installed the beveled glass mirrors. Everything in it, from the time she’d chosen the plans, had been picked specifically for her. The idea of anyone else living in it just didn’t feel right. It was almost…sacrilege. “There must be another solution besides selling.”

“I’ve been trying to find one.” Sara twisted around in her seat until she faced him. Her sundress had hiked up to her thighs, and one strap hung loose down her pale, smooth shoulder. Her hair, always a little unruly, drooped over one eye. Gavin hid his grin. She looked ready to fall asleep on him, but first, she needed something to eat.

“Come on, Sara.” He hauled her to her feet, supporting her when she would have slumped back down again. “Let’s go scrounge you up some food.”

The candle had formed a small pool of wax in the bottom of the wineglass, and Gavin picked that up to guide them through the darkened house. The air had gotten hot and muggy; his skin felt damp with sweat. Sara snatched up the wine bottle before they left the room.

He led the way into the kitchen, hearing her hum beside him. “Am I going to find any other surprises in your kitchen cabinets?”

She dropped to a kitchen chair, then shrugged. “Who knows? I can’t even remember where I’ve put everything.”

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