Tessa: You can’t have me. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.
Even as she sent the message, she knew her body wouldn’t be able to resist him if he pushed. Please, please. For once . . . don’t push.
Micah: Friends?
She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or saddened by his question.
Tessa: Yes.
Micah: I don’t think I’ve ever had a female friend.
Tessa: Stop dating supermodels and maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to do them all.
Micah: I don’t really date. Haven’t for a long time.
Tessa: You’re always being pictured with beautiful women.
Micah: Acquaintances who want to go to a party or event. I don’t fuck them.
Tessa: You don’t?
Micah: Nope. You jealous?
She stopped to think before answering.
Tessa: I have no right to be jealous. I’m just a friend.
Micah: You’re not just a friend, Tessa. But if that’s what you want, I’ll do my best to be that for you.
She knew she would never regard him as just a friend after the intimate moments they’d had together that afternoon, even though that’s exactly how it needed to be.
Tessa: I’m going to bed now.
She needed to stop the conversation before she begged him to come over and fuck her up against the wall or over the table. Anything to stop the frustrated desire pounding at her right now.
Micah: Wish I was going with you. I’ll see you in the morning. Dream about me.
She chuckled at his arrogance as she put the phone on the table beside her discarded book and flopped back onto the pillow, then tugged the cord on the bedside lamp to shut off the light.
Tessa had a hard time falling asleep, and when she did, Micah got his wish.
Her dreams were vivid and erotic.
Carnal.
Breathtaking.
And every one of her dreams featured Micah Sinclair as the man who broke through her outer shell of fear and forced her to yield to their passion.
Dammit!
CHAPTER 6
“So what’s the deal with your ex-fiancé?” Micah asked right before he took a huge slug of water.
Tessa tensed. She and Micah had taken a different route on their run today, a path through the woods that had ended in a clearing by the ocean. He’d wanted to stop since the route had been longer than their usual run. Her eyes were drawn to him, his head turned toward her as he stretched out on the grass beneath them, a ragged T-shirt clinging to his damp, powerful chest and muscular biceps.
“What do you mean? He was my fiancé, and then we broke up,” she replied uncomfortably. She didn’t like to talk about Rick to anyone. He was history, a part of her life that she didn’t want to discuss.
“Why?” he asked casually.
Tessa messed with her hair, re-securing it after some of her curls had come loose during her run. Micah irked her when he got this insistent. He was obviously going to wring the answer from her, no matter how long it took. She was looking at his face now, and she recognized his determined expression.
She sighed as she let her hands drop, her hair confined once more. “Do you really want to know?” she asked warily, hoping he’d say he didn’t, but knowing it wasn’t going to happen.
“Yes.”
That’s what I was afraid of!
He leaned back and propped himself up on his arms, still staring at her expectantly.
God, he looked good. The morning light reflected from his hair, the mild wind ruffling it just enough for him to look sexy. Her eyes trailed down to his sweatpants and expensive running shoes. How did a woman tell a man who looked like him about being dumped?
“He was a rich and powerful man. We were together from the time I turned eighteen, right after the Olympics. He talked me into going back to Boston with him after we’d dated for a few months. I did. We lived together for a year before he asked me to marry him.” She stopped, thinking about how naive she had been back then. She’d thought she was living her dream, that she’d found the one man who would love her forever. Life was never that simple, and her relationship with Rick had become incredibly demanding and complicated.
“And?” Micah prompted.
“Back then, I guess I thought our life was good. I traveled with him when I could. It worked out well because my coach was in Boston, so she could go back home after we moved in together. I went to his parties, became the woman he wanted.”
He looked at her sharply. “What does that mean?”
“He didn’t approve of the clothing I wore, some of my habits, my friends. I turned myself inside out to change. He needed a woman who was more mature.”
“You were fucking eighteen years old, and had spent your entire life devoted to your sport. How much more did he want?” Micah asked, his expression dark.
“Everything,” Tessa admitted. “He wanted me dressed differently, my behavior more proper and sophisticated. He wanted me to cultivate friends in his circle.”
Micah shook his head. “Snobs.”
She shrugged. “Pretty much. I realized later how much I hated that life no matter how many fancy parties and events we attended. It wasn’t me. I was still a small-town girl. I didn’t belong there.”
“You didn’t belong with him. How did you break up?”
“After I lost my hearing and left the hospital, things were never the same. I learned how to read lips as fast as I could, but he hated the fact that I was deaf. I was handicapped, and he hated to take me anywhere.” More quietly she whispered, “He was ashamed of me, I think. He got involved with another woman, and broke off our engagement on his birthday. He asked me to get out the next day. I guess he had my replacement ready to move in.”