“Ow.” His eyes flew open, temper and bafflement warring in them. “What the hell was that for?”
“So I could get back my share of the bed.” Satisfied, she snuggled into the pillow he’d just vacated. She opened one eye and was gratified to see that he was scowling at her. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a bed hog? And a blanket thief.” She snatched the loose cover and rolled into it.
“You’re the first one to complain.”
She only smiled. She was counting on being the last. Frowning, he rubbed the wound on his shoulder. There were shadows under her eyes. They made her look vulnerable. The faint throbbing where her teeth had connected reminded him that she was anything but.
Inside that angular body was a whirlwind of energy. All wells of passion that he was sure—even with the marathon they’d put each other through—had yet to be tapped. She’d taken him places he hadn’t believed existed. Places he was already yearning to return to. In the deepest part of the night she had been insatiable, and impossibly generous. He’d had only to touch her to have her respond. She’d had only to touch him to cause the need to churn.
Now, in the full light of morning, she was wrapped in the blankets, with only her tousled cap of hair and half of her face in view. And he wanted her.
What was he going to do about her? With her? For her? He hadn’t a clue.
He wondered how she would react if he told her everything. She’d go back to thinking he was unbalanced. He could prove it to her. And once he had they would both have to face the fact that whatever had happened between them during the last spin of the earth on its axis was transient. He wasn’t ready for that.
For once in his life he wanted to delude himself. To pretend. They would have only a few weeks together at best. More than other men, he had firsthand knowledge of how fickle time could be. So now he would use it, and take what he had with her.
But how could he? Sitting up, he rubbed his hands over his face. It wasn’t fair to her. It was grossly unfair, particularly if his instincts were correct and her feelings were involved. Not telling her would hurt her when it ended. Telling her would hurt her before it had really begun. And maybe that was best.
“Going somewhere?” she asked him.
He was reminded of when she had used the same phrase before, and where it had ended. Now he thought of how he could tell her just how far away he was going. She was an intelligent woman. He had only to give her the facts.
“Sunny.”
“Yes?” She ran a hand up his arm. Then, feeling repentant, she rose long enough to kiss his shoulder where she had bitten it.
“Maybe this shouldn’t have happened.” He saw by the way her smile faded that he’d begun badly.
“I see.”
“No, you don’t.” Annoyed with himself, he made a grab for her before she could roll out of bed.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said stiffly. “When you’ve been fired as often as I have you get used to rejection. If you’re sorry about what happened—”
“I’m not.” He cut her off with a brisk shake that turned the glazed hurt in her eyes to smoke.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
“I’m not sorry,” he said, struggling for calm. “I damn well should be, but I’m not. I can’t be, because all I can think about is making love with you again.”
She blew her hair out of her eyes and swore to herself that she would be calm. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
“Neither do I.” He released her to tug his fingers through his hair. “It mattered,” he blurted out. It wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it, too, was a fact. “Being with you mattered to me. I didn’t think it would.”
The ice she had deliberately formed around her heart melted a little. “Are you upset because it was more than sex?”
“I’m upset because it was a hell of a lot more than sex.” And he was a coward, he realized, because he couldn’t tell her that what they had now would end before either of them was ready. “I don’t know how to handle it.”
She was silent for a moment. He looked so angry—with himself. And as confused as she was by what had grown—no, by what had exploded into life—between them. “How about one day at a time?”
He shifted his gaze to hers. He wanted to believe it could be that simple. Needed to. “And what happens when I leave?”
The ice had definitely melted, because she felt the first slash in her heart. “Then we’ll deal with it.” She chose her words carefully. “Jacob, I don’t think either of us wanted to get involved. But it happened. I wouldn’t want to take it back.”
“Be sure.”
She lifted a hand to his cheek. “I am.” Afraid she would say too much too soon, she bundled back under the covers. “Now that that’s settled, it’s your turn to make breakfast. You can yell up the stairs when it’s ready.”