On the Ropes (6 page)

But then Stephen dropped her hand and parted from her. He raised his key fob. His SUV beeped and its lights flashed as the doors unlocked.

“We gotta figure out where you’re sleeping,” he said and pulled the passenger-side door open. “I hope the housekeepers put covers on the beds. I’m too fucking tired to wrestle with fitted sheets.”

And just like that, the tiny little speck of bliss she’d allowed herself to feel abated.

When she’d left Bermuda, she wouldn’t have minded the idea of having a room to herself. Now, though, she feared being disconnected. She’d grown up being disconnected—not mattering. She’d learned to keep her own counsel and grew to distrust others who would give it. She was suspicious of people who offered her things without expectation or recompense.

She’d always assumed Stephen would want that from her—her complete capitulation in exchange for his attention—but maybe she’d been unfair.

No, she’d been
wrong
.

He was a flirt, but maybe he would only ever see her as a friend he liked to tease. Wouldn’t he want to touch her otherwise?

The drive to the house was a short one, and good thing because Stephen regretted eating that heavy meal. He’d trained his body to function on very little sleep, but he’d gone beyond burning the candle at both ends to melting it in the middle, too. Ideally, he’d spend a good portion of the week catching up on sleep. That might be the only way he’d be able to keep his hands off of her.

Fuck, that was getting increasingly harder. Not allowing himself to reach out and smooth one of her short curls over her ear during dinner nearly drove him to distraction. And then Derrick had to go flapping his trap about sharing. The thought of his prim Jan fully dominated and filled to her brink had nearly made him cream his pants. He and Derrick had always worked well as a team. They knew when to get out of each other’s way. But, he didn’t want to share Jan. She made him want to be selfish.

He killed the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Don’t worry about the luggage. I’ll get it all out before bed. How’s your ankle, by the way?”

“I very nearly forgot about it,” she said. “I guess that’s a good thing. I’ll take a look at it before I get into the shower.”

“Yeah.”

He turned away and opened his door before she could see his grimace. His natural inclination was to offer to help scrub her back and any other places she had difficulty reaching, but he tamped down his compulsion to say it aloud. Her scent and voice had had his cock half-hard for too fucking much of the evening—that is, when it wasn’t trying to stand at full alert. Her breezy skirt clung to her ass and legs as she walked, and though it covered everything, it left very little to imagination. There was just something about a cinched waist and round ass that made him temporarily forget all his home training. The week ahead was going to be goddamned torturous.

“It’s a lovely house,” she said before he closed his door.

“Thanks.” He closed the door and moved around to the back of the SUV, adjusting his dick as he went. Thank God the nearest streetlight was blown out. Maybe she wouldn’t catch on to his distress and his cock would chill the fuck out while he toted the luggage in.

She’d already hopped down and closed the door before he made it around to the passenger side.

“I was going to get the door for you.” He’d always made a habit of opening doors for ladies—dates or not—and was always surprised when there were a few who found that perplexing.

“Sorry. I’m just excited, I guess.”

He gestured toward the door. Houses this close to the water were built up on stilts, and he’d driven the SUV onto the parking pad beneath. “Let me get that unlocked before the dome light shuts off. I’ll turn on the lights out here and in the stairway so you can see where you’re going.”

He felt around on his key ring for the key with the rubber cap and found it by the time he reached the doormat. It was a damn shame the house was empty so much of the year. He and Meg had talked about renting it out through a property management company, but neither of them liked the idea of having strangers reside in a family space, even temporarily. This wasn’t investment property. It’d been a gift from their grandmother. They didn’t need the money, so the topic didn’t come up again. Still, when the house was built and he’d been an idealistic young lawyer, he’d thought his schedule would allow for him to come down for long weekends and holidays. In ten years, he’d been at the house maybe twenty times.

Shit had to change, or he was going to work himself to an early grave just like his grandfather.

He got the sticking door open, made a mental note to look at it in the morning, and patted the stairwell walls for the light switches. “Ah.” He hit them all, and looked out to see Jan standing patiently just by the SUV. She looked like some kind of goddess in the dim light with the gentle breeze swishing her skirt around and bouncing her short curls.

“Come on in,” he said. “Make yourself at home.”

He hadn’t asked her about her hair, but he’d noticed the change and liked it a great deal. Every time he’d seen her in the past, her hair had been in small plaits all pulled back into a tight bun. Her new look was not only more casual, but softer. He liked it.

She skirted around him, paused at the base of the stairs, and looked up.

“There’s a door at the top,” he said and walked to the SUV’s trunk. “It opens into the kitchen. The light should be on in there.”

“Is there…” She wrung her hands and looked back at him. “Is there an alarm to deactivate or anything?”

“There is, but I’m coming up right after you. I’ll disarm it. You’re not scared, are you?”

“Honestly? Yes. You’d think I wouldn’t be having lived alone all these years, but even now, when I enter my apartment, I do a sweep of every room to make sure no one’s hiding. I can’t sit down or cook dinner until I’m sure I’m alone.”

He grabbed her suitcase’s handle as well as one of his own, and pulled the luggage down. He was surprised she’d shared that with him. Most people weren’t so willing to confess their fears, especially over things most people never gave a second thought about.

“All right. We’ll go through together. I’ll be right on your heels.”

She nodded, and started up the stairs. “I know it’s silly,” she said. “My stepmother used to tease me about it, and my father was very impatient with it.”

Not cool.
He didn’t know her family, and wouldn’t presume to judge them. That would certainly cause offense. Still, he’d boxed long enough to know that personal safety was an anxiety trigger for a lot of people, especially women who felt powerless. It was amazing how putting a pair of gloves on someone and showing them how to fight back made them bloom. He’d seen it time and time again, and in every single instance, something had happened to instill fear in them. Something had happened. He didn’t know what had happened with Jan, and might never know. But, if looking in closets and under beds for intruders made her feel a modicum safer, he’d do it.

She pushed open the door at the landing and gaped at the open, airy kitchen in front of her. Stephen thought it was nice, but not
that
nice. Then again, kitchens in general didn’t geek him out. He was more of a patio and deck kind of guy.

“Like it?” He pushed the two suitcases away from the door and eased around her.

“It’s beautiful. I can’t imagine owning it and not wanting to live here full-time.”

“Honestly, I was just thinking the same thing not too long ago. I don’t get down here very often, and that’s a shame.” He shut the stairway door and locked it. He could get the rest of the bags when they were done. “You want to start up at the loft and work our way back down to the first floor?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He indicated the staircase just past the attached family room, and input the code into the intruder alarm panel. “After you, my dear.”

She went on ahead, slowly, as if she were waiting for him to catch up. He was at her side by the time she reached the first step.

“Who did the decorating?” She skimmed her fingertips along the polished banister and stole a look at him.

He liked this soft, vulnerable side of her. Maybe it was the Dom in him. Maybe it was the caveman. Didn’t matter which, but damn if he didn’t want to take care of her. He somehow doubted that she’d make that easy.

“Most of the architectural decisions were mine,” he said, turning his attention back to climbing the stairs. “My mother helped Meg with everything else. They picked out the appliances and furniture, did all the painting and whatnot.”

“You make a great team.”

He chuckled and rounded the corner to the loft stairs. “Meg would argue with you on that. She tends to like having her way, but I’m bossy enough to push back sometimes.”

“Bossy, huh?”

“You hadn’t noticed?” Bossy was a huge fucking understatement where sex was concerned. The rest of the time, he tried to keep his assholeness camouflaged by charm. He turned on the lights in the small loft and quickly checked the closet, the storage compartment beneath the window seat, and under the desk.

“No, I…I hadn’t.” She walked to the windows and looked out at the moon-drenched ocean. “I’ve always thought you were a little aggressive, but not in a bossy way.”

“I know when to rein it in. Come on.” He gestured to the stairs. “There are three bedrooms on the second floor, including one of the masters. You might like the first-floor master. It has a view of the ocean.”

“You’d put me in a master?” Her voice held a note of surprise.

He shrugged, and started down the stairs. “If you want it. Doesn’t matter to me. Meg and Seth always take the second-floor master so they can be near Toby.”

“I think I’d prefer to be near noise I can identify instead of downstairs alone.”

“Ah. Of course you would. Well, let’s take a look.” He pointed to the end of the hall, and surprisingly, she took the crook of his arm and let him lead her.

She’d
never
done that before—made the first move to touch. It had to have just been some sort of reflex stemming from her anxiety. He couldn’t allow himself to read more into it than that.

He cleared his throat and pushed open the master bedroom door. “When we were planning the house, we debated square footage a lot, and how many bedrooms it should have.” Reluctantly, he freed his arm of her grip so he could check the bathroom. “We didn’t want it to be the biggest house on the strip, you know?”

“I’m sure your neighbors wouldn’t have liked that.”

“No, they certainly wouldn’t have.”

She retook his arm the moment he stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door. Nope. Not a fluke. He gently guided her around the room as he checked cavities large enough for hiding. He knew them all. His nephew Toby was a master of hide and seek, but he’d learned most of his tricks from Stephen.

“Is Megan here more than you?”

“Yes, but that’s not especially hard to manage.” They moved on to the room with the open door at the other end of the hall. “She and Seth live in Fayetteville. That’s only four hours from here. She was even closer when she lived in Raleigh. She used to come out with her friends. You probably met them at the resort.”

“Oh, yes, uh…” She squeezed her eyes shut and seemed to be forming words on her lips she wouldn’t let escape. “Ah, one was Carla.”

“Wow! You remember that?”

“I told you. I remember a lot of trivia as a part of my job. Let’s see, there was Carla and…” She opened her eyes. “Sharon?”

“Yeah, Sharon. That’s right. They all go way back to freshman year of college. Stand right there, and let me check this room.”

Once again, he let go of her and checked the nooks. He found nothing, save for some dust bunnies aggregating on the hardwoods under the bed. Yet another thing to make a note of. Housekeepers must have thought they wouldn’t look. Meg
always
looked. His little sister was going to blow her fucking top.

“I think that’s lovely. Having friendships that endure like that,” Jan said.

“It is, especially for someone like Meg. She’s naturally untrusting. The one time she didn’t trust her gut about someone ended up being with the guy she divorced.”

“The guy Mr. Rozhkov punched into the next postal code, you mean.”

“Heh. Yeah. And call him Seth or Sergei, otherwise he probably won’t realize you’re talking to him.”

“I’m just not—”

“Comfortable? Don’t worry about it. I know you don’t know my brother-in-law well, but this is one instance you don’t want to get hung up on formalities. He sure as shit isn’t going to call you
Miss Hinson
.”

She seemed to cringe at thinking it.

They checked the next room.

“So, you could have this room or the next one. That one’s the smallest,” he said.

She looked around, and he couldn’t help but notice her gaze landed on the double doors leading out to a small balcony.

Oh.

“The next room might suit you better, then. That one just has a plain-old window.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” she asked as he checked the closet.

“Probably downstairs. That way you get your own bathroom.”

“I don’t have a problem with sharing, unless you’d just like more room to yourself.”

“Trust me, once my head hits a pillow, I won’t give a shit about which room I’m in. I’ve been known to sit on the sofa just after arriving, close my eyes to blink, and then not open my eyes again until noon the next day.”

“I see.”

He hoped she did. The last thing he wanted was for her to take personally anything he said while under influence of exhaustion. He already had an uphill battle as far as wooing her went.

They continued through all the rooms until they wound their way back to the kitchen. He indicated the deck fully spanning the east side of the house. The family room opened out to it with two sets of double doors, but because of the panoramic windows, which Stephen opened the shutters of, indoor and outdoor seemed to flow together.

She leaned against the deck railing and looked out onto the moon-drenched waves. “Tell me again why you don’t live here full-time.”