A tempting alternative tickled at her brain. What if she did sleep with him again, but the next time was more about fun, with no ring? She’d let things get too serious before. That had obviously been a mistake on so many levels.
Could she forget the past and have an affair with her ex-husband?
Five
Eloisa made it through the night without a trip downstairs, although it had been rough going when she’d woken up at around four.
But finally the morning sun streaked through her reed roll-up blinds. She could leave her room without feeling she’d caved. Since it was only six-thirty, she might just get to watch him sleep, something she’d missed out on during their one night together.
She pulled on a white terry-cloth robe, securing it tight before leaving her bedroom. Halfway down the stairs she realized the sofa was empty. Well, empty other than the thin quilt straggling off the side. The pillow still bore the deep imprint of a head. Eloisa padded barefoot down the rest of the steps, her toes sinking into the carpet runner along the wood.
Where was Jonah? The spare bathroom downstairs was silent, the door cracked open, steam still lightly fogging the mirror and a pale blue towel hung on the rack. Had he left as abruptly as he’d shown up, even after joking about wanting a final night together? Just the thought of being with him again sent a tingle along her skin, a tingle doused by the possibility he’d already left.
Her bare feet picked up speed along the hardwood floor, but the kitchen was empty, too.
“Uh-huh…” His voice drifted inside.
She spun around. The French doors were open an inch. She sagged back against the island counter and stared through to the patio. Jonah lounged in her Adirondack chair, cell phone pressed to his ear. Curiosity held her still and quiet when she probably should have done something to announce her presence, like slam a couple of cabinets open and closed.
His jean-clad legs stretched out long and so damn sexy, showcased by the morning sun. There was something hot and intimate about his bare feet and while she couldn’t see his chest, his arms appeared bare as well.
Memories of making love in Spain flamed hotter in her mind after simmering below the surface all night long. She may have had a couple of drinks and lost some inhibitions, but she remembered the sex. Good sex. Amazing sex. She’d been so hungry for him as she’d torn away his shirt, popping buttons in her frenzy. His chest had captured her attention all by itself. She’d known he was muscular. The ripples under his shirt had been impossible to miss, but she hadn’t been prepared for the intense definition, the unmistakable strength and power far more elemental than any money or prestige.
She’d always considered herself the cerebral sort, attracted to academic types. So it had totally knocked her off balance when she’d gone weak-kneed over a peek at Jonah’s pecs.
“Right,” he said to whoever was on the other end of the line. He thrust a hand through his still-damp hair, slicking it back. “I realize that cuts a week off our timeline. Go ahead and send me the new specs. I’ll get back to you with an answer by the end of business today.” He listened and nodded. “I can be reached at this number. Meanwhile, I’ll be on the lookout for your fax.”
He disconnected and didn’t show signs of dialing again, apparently done with chitchatting for the moment. Any second now, he might stand and notice her. Eloisa looked around for some excuse to appear busy rather than to be eavesdropping. She snatched the empty coffeepot from the coffeemaker.
Jonah stood, stretching his arms overhead.
Her mouth went dry. His chest was everything she remembered and more. She’d forgotten about the deep tan. The honey-warm glow of his skin made her want to taste him all over.
She visually traced the cut of his six-pack lower, lower still down to…oh my…he’d left the top button of his jeans open. No boxers.
Just a hint of a tan line.
Eloisa grabbed the counter for balance.
She tore her gaze off his bare stomach and brought it to his face. He was looking straight back at her as she stood in the kitchen, stock-still, holding on to the counter with one hand. Her other held a coffeepot dangling uselessly from between her fingers.
“Sorry, uh, Jonah,” she babbled, startling into action and shoving the coffeepot under the faucet as he sauntered inside. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your call.”
“It’s okay. We’d already wrapped up business.” He tucked the phone half into his pocket, studying her as intently as she’d studied him. “Are you making coffee or tea?”
The intensity of his gaze made her edgy. Was her robe gaping? Her hair a mess?
She glanced at the pot…. Damn. She’d forgotten to turn on the faucet.
“Coffee.” Eloisa turned her back to him and focused on making extra-strong java. Hopefully by the time the last drop dripped she would have scavenged some self-control and dignity. “Were you talking to your lawyer about moving forward on the divorce?”
“That was a work call.” The heat of his voice and breath caressed her shoulder and she hadn’t even heard him approach. He moved quietly for such a big man.
“You have a job?” she asked absently, setting the glass pot on the counter rather than risk dropping it. When had her fingers gone numb?
He flicked her ponytail forward over her shoulder. “I think I’m insulted you have to ask.”
Ducking away, she opened the cabinet and foraged for her favorite hazelnut-cream-flavored beans. “Weren’t you working on your grad studies like the others when we met?” She glanced back at him. “I assumed…”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You assumed that I was a perpetual student content to live off Mom and Pop’s nickel? You sure painted quite a picture of me with very little info.”
She finished pouring coffee beans into the coffeemaker, closed the lid and hit Start. The sound of the grinder grated along her already ragged nerves. “You made assumptions about me, too.”
“Such as?” He leaned against the counter, dipping his head into her line of sight.
“I gave off the appearance of being someone different during those weeks in Madrid.” She crossed her arms over her chest, keeping her robe closed and her hands off his chest. “That time of my life was very out of character for me.”
“How so?”
“I’m a homebody, not a world traveler. I like my books and my Adirondack chair with a mug of coffee. That sort of exotic adventure was a onetime good deal. I lucked into a scholarship program that granted me the extra credits I needed. Bottom line, I’m a bookish librarian, not a party girl who gets drunk and impulsively marries some hot guy.”
“You think I’m hot, huh?” His blue eyes twinkled as brightly as the rising sun glimmering through the sliding patio doors.
“You already know I find you physically attractive.” She conjured her best “librarian” voice that put even the rowdiest of hoodlums in place. “But there are more important issues to address here.”
“Of course.” He selected an apple from her wicker fruit bowl on the counter. “I have a theory.”
“What would that be?” They were nearly nak*d. He had an apple.
Where was the snake? Because she certainly was tempted.
He gestured with the fruit in his hand. “I think you are the sort of woman who travels the world and impulsively takes risks, even knowing sometimes those risks may not work out. Deep down you want to take more of those risks because you also know that sometimes things do work out.”
“You seem to have decided a lot about me.”
Without answering he crunched a big bite off the side. Why couldn’t he have chosen one of the more innocent oranges or plums?
She watched his mouth work. She’d done that before, in Spain during a late-day picnic with the whole crew. Back then she’d only indulged in what-if fantasies about Jonah, never for a second thinking she would one day act on them.
And here she was daydreaming about the feel of his mouth moving along her skin…
Except his mouth was moving because he was talking and she didn’t have a clue what he’d said.
“Pardon me?” She rearranged the plums until the fruit was balanced again.
He set aside his half-eaten apple. “Our time together was intense. You can learn a lot about a person in time-compressed moments.”
What was he driving at? “But you agreed with me the morning after that we’d made a mistake.”
“Did I?”
She stared back into his serious blue eyes and tried to understand him, understand this whole bizarre reunion. But he wasn’t giving away anything in his expression. She wasn’t so sure she could say the same for herself.
Eloisa touched his hand lightly. “Don’t play mind games with me. I know what I heard. And it’s not like you came after me.”
“I’m here now.”
What if he’d come after her right away? She would have told him about the baby. She wouldn’t have been able to stay silent if face-to-face with him. How much different things might have been.
Or maybe not. Her mother certainly hadn’t experienced a fairy-tale ending when she’d gotten pregnant.
Eloisa shook off the haze of what-ifs. “You’ve shown up for your one night of sex. Followed by a divorce.”
“Who says we can’t change our minds?” Before she could answer, he pitched his apple into the corner trash can. “I have to check on that fax.”
Blinking fast, she watched him walk out the door shirtless, her head still spinning from his abrupt departure. The front door closed, but she could still see him through the skinny windows on either side of the door. The limo loomed conspicuously in the parking lot, idling alongside the curb. Jonah ducked his head and climbed inside and she remembered that mobile office/command center.
And she realized he’d never answered her question about his phone call or what he did with his life now. While Jonah seemed to have figured out so much about her, she had precious little other than Wikipedia information on him.
If she really wanted to move forward with her life, the time had come to quit drooling over the guy’s body and start seriously looking at the man underneath.
He’d seen the desire in her eyes underneath her veneer of calm.
Jonah tugged on a black polo shirt while he waited for Eloisa to finish her shower upstairs. No amount of work in his fax machine could distract him from thoughts of her under the spray. In some ways he thought he remembered every nuance of her body. That night was burned in his memory.
Would his fascination with her ease if he had more time with her? He certainly hoped so because he didn’t want another year like the one he’d just endured.
The sound of water faded, then ended. Silence echoed for what felt like forever before he heard the rustle of her upstairs in her bedroom. Getting dressed.
He’d never considered himself a masochist, but listening to her was serious torture. Jonah pivoted away from her door and opened cabinet after cabinet in search of a coffee mug. As he started drinking his second cup, he heard her door click and swing open.
Jonah poured some java for her, spooning two sugars in the way he remembered she preferred. And why he recalled that detail, he didn’t know. He turned to face her.