This time she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. He really was something. So cool and intimidating one moment and yet so self-deprecating the next. She warmed even more when his low chuckle twined with her own.
“You don’t have anything to prove. I’m . . . quite satisfied,” she said after a pause, a smile lingering on her lips. Very satisfied, in fact. Very curious about what other secrets you hold, what other mysteries you might unlock in my body with the ease of a master thief. She pushed the incendiary thought aside. A cool breeze rippled over her damp skin. The rush of humor and warmth had suddenly abandoned her.
“But . . . I really should be going. It’s an early morning for me.”
He nodded and quickly wrapped the towel around his lean hips. “I’ll just go and get your purse, then.”
Disappointment flooded her when he didn’t persist in his invitation to stay. In his absence, she scurried to find her clothing. By the time he’d returned, she’d donned her socks, underwear, and pants, and was fastening her bra. It was as if with every garment she put on, the unreality of what’d just happened grew greater. She glanced up self-consciously when he returned, her clutch purse looking tiny in his big hand. She was glad for the cloak of semidarkness. He bent down and retrieved her shirt.
“Thanks,” she murmured when he handed it to her. She shoved it over her head.
“I meant what I said. Before.”
“What?” she asked, jerking her shirt down over her abdomen. He stepped closer, and she froze.
“I can make you forget some of your sorrows,” he said. “For a little while, anyway. If you let me. What’s the harm in that?”
Her mouth fell open.
“What?” he asked, obviously sensing her unease.
“This is weird,” she replied in a rush.
She saw his brow furrow. “That I want you? That you want me?”
“No, not that,” she said, flustered. She jammed her foot into one of her shoes. “I mean . . . I was told by someone that you usually don’t . . . date local women,” she explained, flushing at the word date. She hid her eye roll by looking down while she put on her other shoe. He didn’t want to take her to dinner and a movie, for Christ’s sake. He wanted her for the purpose of exchanging single-minded pleasure. Which sounded pretty damn exciting at the moment. The thought of his rigid face and bulging arms as he’d made both of them come a moment ago flashed into her mind’s eye, stealing her breath.
“I don’t.” She looked up sharply. He’d stepped closer. “I don’t like complications.”
“And you don’t think I’ll give you any?” she wondered in amazement.
“I think in your case, the complications are unavoidable,” he replied, his voice deep and rich and weighty in the still night air.
She realized he’d calmly extended his arm, handing her the clutch. She swallowed thickly and reached for it.
“What do you say, Harper?”
“I’ll think about it,” she muttered, head bowed.
His voice just now had sounded beguiling. Close. She didn’t want him to kiss her again. She didn’t want to give in to a powerful urge to kiss him. This whole situation was already murky and confusing enough without adding more of the intoxication of his mouth and touch into a serious decision. “Good night, Jacob.”
She moved past him.
“Let me see you home, at least—”
“No,” she said, biting her bottom lip when she realized how abrupt she’d sounded. She glanced back at him. His face looked shadowed from this angle. Had she offended him? “The beach is well lit all the way to my place. Good night,” she repeated, feeling foolish. He didn’t reply.
She flew down the stairs to the moonlit beach, highly aware of his stare on her back. Maybe it was her imagination—because she refused to look back to confirm it—but she had the distinct impression he watched her for her entire trip home.
• • •
The complications are unavoidable.
The thought kept reoccurring in his head as he lay in his bed later, moonlight spilling into his suite and onto his naked body. He’d already masturbated again, a fact that didn’t surprise him at all.
He’d screwed up out there. That was a simple, unavoidable reality. The wise choice would be to avoid Harper altogether. If he couldn’t see fit to be wise and restrain himself—which apparently, he couldn’t—then his other choice would be to possess her completely . . . to get her out of his system once and for all.
Instead, he’d acted like an impulsive, clumsy teenager, getting so turned on by the feeling of her wet, supple body and the taste of her sweet mouth beneath his, he’d jerked off on her.