Page 17 of Only for the Moment
“That’s…incredible, Ken.”
Only her friends and Vince called her Ken, but she found that she didn’t mind Isaac using it.
“It’s also very isolated,” he pointed out. “You aren’t trying to take advantage of me, are you? Because I might be willing.” He shot her an amused glance. “Just sayin’.”
“I’m sure you would be,” she said wryly.
“Now who’sa bit arrogant?” he asked, laughter rumbling through his words.
“The girl with Granny’s biscuits and gravy under her control.” Reaching into the back seat, she retrieved their breakfast, packed carefully in a warming bag. “If you want some, you won’t antagonize me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
They ate in companionable silence, staring out at the landscape, neither reaching for words or excuses for not talking.She didn’t know about Isaac, but for her that was rare. Her brain didn’t often stop, her conscience or psyche or whatever that damned internal voice was running nonstop. Even in bed the internal snark wouldn’t let go, keeping her from fully immersing herself in the pleasure. Not that she should be thinking about bed or pleasure or letting go while breathing the same air as the man beside her,but telling herself she shouldn’t seemed to be as effective as telling herself to stay away from him, stop thinking about him, quit losing herself in those sea-glass eyes…
A snort escaped. Yeah, that was definitely not working so far.
“What?”
She turned to Isaac, who was popping the last piece of bacon off his disposable plate into his mouth. A man chewing should not be that damn sexy. “Whatwhat?”
He swallowed, a grin taking over his lips. “What’s so funny?”
She busied herself gathering the remnants of their breakfast and stuffing it all back into the bag. “Just me.”
“Do you amuse yourself often?”
Why did the question sound so dirty when he asked it in that rough accent, as if he’d asked her if she did other things to herself? “All the time.”
An outright laugh left him then,and Kennedy found herself enthralled by the sight. He was a beautiful man, intense, but God, when he laughed, he rivaled the sun. The sight tightened her chest, especially when she contrasted it with the look on his face when he’d knocked on her door at dawn.
“So…would you like to talk about what happened this morning?” she asked.
The question hit him like a splash of cold water, cutting thatintriguing amusement off abruptly. She almost regretted it, but some instinct told her he needed to talk about whatever it was. She could be wrong, but she didn’t think so.
“I got a call,” he finally said.
She stayed quiet, hoping he’d continue.
“We were friends a long time ago. Still are, actually, though we don’t see each other much. Her brother was my best friend growing up.” While he explainedabout Oliver and Grace, about a childhood spent in boarding schools that was eerily similar to her own, she watched his face, the emotion only occasionally flitting across it. That was the tip of the iceberg, she knew. Emotion fairly vibrated off him, no matter how much he tried to hide it. A sudden hunger to see him let go, to witness the full reality of Isaac Anschau, struck her hard. Itwas too much, too out of control, and if her childhood had taught her anything, it was to hang on to as much control as she could possibly grasp.
“Why don’t you want to go to the benefit?” He could; a man like Isaac would move mountains to be there for his friend.
His lips tightened into a thin line before parting reluctantly. “I don’t perform in Australia, haven’t since I left. Too many ghostswith too much reach.”
Because it was obvious from the strain around his eyes that he’d rather not say more, she let the silence fall again. A few moments later, the movement of Isaac’s hands in his lap caught her attention. He held a thin piece of soft-looking rope, knotting and twisting it between restless fingers. “What’s that?”
Isaac startled out of whatever memory he’d been locked into,glancing down with raised brows. He hadn’t known he was playing with the rope. Interesting.
Shaking off his preoccupation like a dog with wet fur, he shot her a glance from under heavy eyelids. “That’s my emergency rope.”
Okay, she’d bite. “What kind of emergency could you possibly use that bit of string for?”
“For tying up pretty girls, of course.”
For another woman, that might’ve come acrossas threatening, but hey, she had a brother who handcuffed his woman and “spanked her pretty ass,” as he called it. The rope wasn’t long enough to hold her captive. Before she could spout a sassy comeback, Isaac captured her hand, drawing it to the armrest between them. He unwound the knots in the cord, then recreated them one by one around her fingers, her palm, her wrist. Delicate black linescontrasted with her creamy skin. She could still move, but the firm rope secured around her limb, still warm from his body heat, did something unexpected—it aroused her. As if Isaac had marked her in some way, winding knots around her body and emotions instead of just one hand. Her breath quickened, her breasts beginning to swell and ache with the same pulsing heat that settled in her lower belly.When she shifted on her seat, squeezing her thighs together as carefully as possible so he wouldn’t notice, Isaac chuckled.
“Well, that’s interesting.”
