Page 67 of Tempt

I smile against his mouth. “I didn’t miss you, because I had you all around me.”

He groans. “Fuck, I love that.”

“Me, too.”

“So this felt good?”

“Yep.”

“Can I take it off you now?” When I nod, he steps back, takes off his jacket, and rolls up his sleeves to his elbows. Then he reaches for my harness, and slowly reverses the careful steps he took earlier.

I roll my shoulders as he sets the coil down, then he tells me to lift my arms, and he peels off my shirt.

Underneath are faint rope marks, and he leans in to kiss one shoulder, then the other. I shiver at the touch, not realizing how sensitive the skin had become until he brushed his lips against the mark.

He lifts his head, frowning. “Okay?”

“Better than okay.” I try to capture what it feels like. “I feel all loose and relaxed, and skin-prickly sensitive at the same time.”

He gently wraps me in his arms, then points to the painting. “You were deep in thought when I came in.”

“Is this one of Grace’s?”

“No. But she bought it for me. Why?”

“I don’t know. Just wondering. Maybe I should spend more time with her. Get to know her?”

“She would love that.”

“Would you?”

He frowns. “Of course. Why?”

“That relationship seems complicated.”

“That’s more about my brother, not her. Grace is the sister I wish I’d had. And yes, it’s sometimes tense, but in a family kind of way.”

“Can I ask…” I wince. “She’s artsy. Different from you—and Luke.”

He nods.

“And I’m…artsy. Different from you.”

Another nod, but this time the muscles around his mouth twitch, tighten, and his lips narrow.

I just spill it out. “Is there any part of you that was in love with your sister-in-law? Am I a stand-in for her? Are you attracted to me because I’m…like her?”

Sam stares at me. Silent. Disbelieving, maybe.

Then he laughs. “No. Oh, no. God. No.”

“Is that ridiculous? I don’t know where that came from.” I rub my chest, where the ropes were. “I haven’t been worried about it.”

“It’s fine. You have it all wrong, though. Or not wrong, but backwards. Yes, you’re a lot like Grace.She’s a lot like you. I have always liked her, in part because she reminds me of you. I love her, yes, but I am not in love with her, and I never have been. That is reserved for you. And I think maybe it always has been.”

My face goes hot with shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It needed to be aired. Is it done now?” He grins. “Do you have any other questions about who I might have feelings for?”