She reached out and cupped his strong jaw, feeling the evening shadow rough against her skin. Her thumb moved over the full lips that could do such amazing things.
“Clay, we’ve talked about this. You know it’s not something I feel comfortable with.”
“I want you in my life, dammit.”
“You have me in your life. Five and six days a week, eight to ten hours a day. Longer when needed.”
“That’s not the same thing and you know it.” He was silent as though in deep contemplation. “You are hard enough to resist during the day in the office. To know you could be living under my roof, to know I would get to see you and be with you every night as well... I think it would be the best for both of us. That’s as lightly put as I can say it.”
“I understand.” And she did. She was so in love with him that other men just didn’t exist. She respected Clay and was flattered by his desire to keep her solely with him. Maybe she was a bit old-fashioned, but why start a serious relationship if you knew from the beginning it had nowhere to go? Clay didn’t want a wedding ring and all the trappings that went along with it. She did. He still had most of his life to live and be free. Sophie was the exact opposite. She longed for a husband, a home and kids scampering and playing around the house. She wanted a man with a golden band around his fourth finger that proclaimed he was happily married and proud to let any and all know it.
“If you don’t want to move in here then let me set you up in the penthouse of one of my buildings nearby. You would want for nothing, Sophie. You would be close to the horses anytime you wanted to ride.” He nuzzled her ear. “And you’d be closer to me.”
“I like my little house. It’s only four miles away.”
“That’s four miles too far. If you won’t agree to that, either, then let me move in with you.”
She couldn’t stop the giggle that rose in her throat. “Oh, yeah, I can see how that would work out well. Park your Porsche out on the street.”
“I could always drive the truck.”
“Let your feet hang over the end of the couch when you sleep.”
“Not if I was sleeping with you, which I absolutely would be.”
“You would bump your head every time you came into the house.”
“Sophie, you drive a man crazy. I know because I’m there.”
“I like to make you crazy,” she said, rubbing her fingers over the thin line of hair below his belly button.
He took her hand and pushed it lower, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. “Stroke it,” he whispered.
She didn’t hesitate. The feel of his smooth, silky skin was in such direct conflict with the rest of his body. Clay rose above her and found her mouth in the darkness.
“What am I going to do with you?”
The words Anything you want flittered across her mind. She was so in love with Clay. She could no longer deny it. Even to herself. But he must never know. Clay lived on the fast track and even the idea of tying him down was ludicrous.
His lips came down on hers and there was no more talking for a long time.
Sophie woke before dawn, eased out of bed and hurried to the shower. She couldn’t face Clay. Nor could she count the number of times they had made love. Standing under the warming spray, she leaned her forehead against the stone wall and indulged in reliving the memories from last night. He’d positioned her in so many ways, brought her to climax so many times she didn’t know if she would ever recover. But that was a great thing. Her body felt well used but more alive than ever.
Exiting the shower, she pulled on one of Clay’s T-shirts, gathered her dress and heels, and eased down the stairs in the hopes of finding someone who would take her home. Within minutes she was on her way. She refused to worry about the staff gossiping about her and their boss. Women sneaking out of his house in the early hours of the morning were probably a common occurrence. Or they had been at one time.
The following Monday at work was easier than Sophie imagined it would be. Clay did kiss her good-morning but then sealed himself inside his office, door closed for most of the day. She heard his voice get loud and angry a couple of times and it made her curious to know what was up. The next time he emerged, she intended to ask. This was so out of the norm.
At four o’clock the inner door opened.
“Sophie, why don’t you head home. There is no reason for you to stay any longer. I suspect I’ll be on the phone the rest of the day.” And the door was again closed.
This was repeated the next few days and still Clay didn’t reveal what was wrong. The men and women who called sounded upset but didn’t care to speak with her. Just Clay. So as soon as his line cleared, she would send the next call through without knowing what was going on.
Days after the siege had started, the high intensity of the calls stopped. Clay began spending more and more time out of his office but that dark side of his personality remained in place.
* * *
Trembling, Sophie stood from the bathroom floor. She turned on the sink faucet, then splashed cool water on her face and tried to still the shaking. This was the third time in a week she had awakened to a feeling of nausea. Initially believing she’d picked up a bug, she’d shrugged it off as summer flu and had begun religiously taking vitamin C. But now she wasn’t so sure she’d diagnosed her symptoms correctly.