Whose Bed Is It Anyway? (5 page)

‘All right,' she sighed. ‘But I'm not going to stop trying to change your mind.'

‘Try all you like, but keep the field assignments coming.' He turned back towards the condo.

‘There's no end to them,' she snorted. ‘But
you
need at least a fortnight off.'

A fortnight? He halted in horror, earning a muffled curse from the pedestrian behind him who'd swerved to avoid smacking into him. James waved a vague apology and then frowned at the pavement.

No
way
could he share a bed with Caitlin for a fortnight. Not without asking for the improper. ‘I don't need that long,' he quickly said to Lisbet. ‘I'm ready to ship out again tomorrow.'

‘No. I'm not letting you burn out,' she answered.

‘Never going to happen.'

‘That's what they all say, right before they crash,' she said briskly. ‘Go spend some time with your family. You've been overseas for months.'

‘I like being overseas.' He liked his family too, but he liked being away and busy more.

He heard her sigh. ‘If you insist on doing something, you can come to the charity gala on Thursday night. I'll put your name down now.'

Oh, hell, that was even
worse
. ‘Lisbet, I don't—'

‘It's only one night,' she wheedled. ‘You can show me how refreshed you are so I'll send you back into the fray sooner.'

‘Fine,' he snapped, letting her manipulate him—mainly because he knew rolling up to the event was part of his duty. He turned his phone off and shoved it into his back pocket.

Two weeks? What was he supposed to do with all that time? He hadn't had more than a few days off in years and that was the way he liked it. If he stayed in town more, his parents would put the pressure on about other—more personal—things. But they were going to have to save that for his brothers. James would never settle down. He'd seen how tragedy tore a family apart. He wasn't doing that to anyone else again. Definitely not having a wife or children of his own. He'd work for other people's families. That was how he got satisfaction and some semblance of peace. So he'd even help his unexpected roommate. His pain in the neck roommate. Pretty roommate. Sassy, sexy roommate...

Two weeks?

He yanked his wayward thoughts to a halt, frowning again. But he couldn't toss her out. There was a code—written by his own family in fact.
You welcomed, opened up, let the weary traveller rest.
How many times had he stayed at places where it must have been uncomfortable or awkward for the people who were hosting him? But they never said no. The basic kindness of people never failed to touch him. Yeah, the least he could do was offer the same in return. Kindness
without
strings. Certainly not sexual strings. He'd ice this edge he had for her. It was only reaction to circumstance anyway. He'd been working back-to-back projects, had hardly seen a woman in any sexual sense—only broken people in need of practical help. The idea of sex hadn't entered his head in recent weeks. So of course it had roared in on flaming wheels now he was in the clear and confronted with a woman wearing little and already in his bed.

The urge to cut loose sneakily called. He could charm a
little
, couldn't he? Not everything in his life needed to be that intense life-and-death stuff. He could coast along with his lovely roommate for a few days until his boss let him out on assignment again. A slight flirt wasn't going to harm. And the amusement, the thrill he felt when Caitlin hit back? He couldn't resist stirring that. He couldn't resist the challenge of making her blush, smile, spark.

He walked back to the condo and spent the rest of the afternoon talking through the refit plans with the design team—tweaking here and there while he had the chance. After they left he glanced at his watch. Where was Caitlin? Hours had passed since she'd left him outside the diner. What tourist stuff had she soaked up? Had she eaten dinner? He waited, in case she hadn't. The evening progressed. Nine o'clock came and went. So did ten.

Still no Caitlin.

Adrenalin tightened his muscles. Unable to ignore the pleas from his stomach, or the urge to move in
some
way, James headed out and picked up a pizza. He wandered round the cold, empty floor of his lounge, eating and distracting himself by imagining what it was going to look like once the changes had been made.

The second hand on his watch ticked on. Still she didn't return. Concern pressed. Had he scared her off? Had she gone to stay somewhere else? Where? But she'd left her small toiletries bag in the bathroom. So did that mean she was lost—or something worse?

Hell
. He tossed the uneaten crusts in the pizza box. Why was he so worried? She was grown-up. He wasn't her damn guardian. He forced himself to take a shower and go to bed. If he didn't get some sleep he'd look a wreck at the bloody gala and Lisbet would keep him chained to some desk for ever. But he didn't bother trying to sleep. He tried to read.

In reality, he waited.

* * *

Caitlin crept up the stairs, hyped about her day yet awkward about the upcoming sleep situation. Hopefully James was long asleep already. If so, she wouldn't wake him, given he slept like the dead. But as she climbed to the top floor she saw light emanating from the room. She swallowed back the surge of adrenalin and walked in.

Oh, where was the
mercy
? The man was in bed, apparently not wearing anything but the sheet covering his lower half. His bare, bronzed, muscled chest yanked her attention and sizzled her skin. She didn't know where to look. But she couldn't wipe the smile from her face.

‘You had a good day?' He'd glanced up from the iPad he'd been reading.

‘Amazing.' She bit her lip, wondering for a second if he'd been searching anything on the web. But his smile was still too warm and, frankly, the guy probably had way better things to do than bother finding out about her. It wasn't as if he were really interested, right?

‘So you saw?' he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

‘I saw.' And man, was she
seeing
now.

‘And did?'

‘I saw more than did.' She glanced away, trying to recount her day rather than drool. ‘Times Square, Rockefeller Center—as you said. And tonight I saw a Broadway show, which was
so
awesome.' She beamed and looked back at him. ‘That rocked. And now I'm really sore. My feet,' she explained as his brows lifted. ‘I've walked miles.'

‘Ah.' He nodded. ‘So now you need rest.'

‘Yeah.' That wretched heat beat its way into her cheeks. Somehow she couldn't think ‘rest' when he was in bed like that—all big and bare and bold.

‘You're going to sleep in the travel clothes?' he asked softly, a way too wicked whisper.

‘I don't have much choice,' she said wryly.

‘Wear another of my T-shirts.'

She licked her dry lips. ‘I don't think the grey is my colour.' She tried to joke, because she knew he was joking with her like some panto character—all twirling moustache and gleaming eyes.

‘I'm betting all colours would suit you,' he said.

‘Are you flirting with me again?' She tried to stand tall. Tried to breathe. But the heat he generated burned her lungs.

‘I was trying for more subtle this time,' he said. Humour laced his words but his triple-strength-espresso eyes were locked on hers. ‘Is it working? I'm a little rusty.'

Caitlin couldn't tear her gaze from his. Couldn't contain her own rusty reply. ‘Maybe you should try a little harder.'

He stilled; his alert eyes drilled as if he was searching out her secrets. That tiny roguish twist to his lips remained. ‘How hard?'

She swallowed. But then shook her head, taking a step back from the ledge; she wasn't buying into this game. Because it
was
a game. ‘I'm not sure you can deliver.'

‘How do you know if you don't let me try?' His voice deepened; so did the amusement slipping into his eyes. ‘I don't like not being given the opportunity to prove myself.'

She dragged in a scalding breath. ‘This is you being brotherly?'

His smile broadened. His shoulders rose and fell in an easy gesture. ‘You make it very difficult not to tease you.'

Caitlin sent him a look and stalked into the bathroom, locking the door on his low laughter. The man was
all
tease, with the lack of shirt and lapse into outrageous flirt. He was only doing it to amuse himself, she knew that, but it was fun and frankly a little flattering to her decimated-by-Dominic ego. So what if James didn't mean it?

Trouble was her body was
totally
buying it. All aware, totally absorbed by his physique. With that chest and those sculpted abs, all she wanted was to wrap herself around him. Her body was taking his carefree, fun flirt way too seriously. Good thing she was human and able to control her bodily desires.

Will power over want.

She towelled off and pondered her nightwear dilemma. One of his grey shirts was neatly folded and waiting on a shelf. She half laughed as she saw it, feeling a ridiculous glow at his thoughtfulness. He might have been teasing, but he'd remembered her no-luggage predicament and was genuinely happy to help.

So the real question was what to wear
beneath
the tee. She should have been just a smidge less frugal and bought some more knickers this afternoon. Except she'd already blown her daily budget. So now she washed out her undies and hung them over the bath to dry for tomorrow—refusing to wince. The man spent most of his time in emergency camps—he'd have seen worse than a pair of knickers drying over a rail. Fingers crossed her luggage would show up some time soon. For now she slipped into the T-shirt and checked in the mirror how low it fell. Almost to mid-thigh. He'd never know whether she had undies on or not. It wasn't a problem at all. Right?

Emerging from the bathroom, she stopped in the doorway and saw he'd created a Great Wall of Pillows in an engineering feat that NASA scientists would be proud of.

‘Like the border?' He winked at her from where he stood on his side of the bed.

‘Impressive.' She was
so
talking about the tower, not James in nothing but boxers. ‘That's a very big...pile of pillows.'

His eyes danced. ‘I did ship in some extra. But it should hold.' He rather awkwardly turned towards the bed and cleared his throat. ‘According to my boss I'm not going on another assignment for a fortnight.'

‘Oh.' A
fortnight
? ‘So you're on holiday too, then,' she mumbled, her face scorching.

‘Seems so.' He pulled back the sheet and slid beneath it.

‘Nice.' She couldn't think what else to say. She was going to have to sleep next to him for the next
two
weeks? How was she going to survive? She was too close to combustion as it was.

Hideously self-conscious, she crept onto her side of the bed. The tower was so tall she'd be able to sit up and still not see him. But she was acutely aware of his closeness, the image of him all but naked was seared on her mind.

She carefully clambered between the cool sheets and told her hyperactive senses to chill too. A fair amount of trust was required to sleep in the same bed as someone, but she was
safe
with James Wolfe. She'd already spent one night with him. Sure, last night he'd been too exhausted to do anything even if he'd wanted to, but she figured that—despite the light'n'teasy flirt—he really didn't
want
to do anything. He was too honourable, way too much the hero, to make an inappropriate move.

And that was fine, right?

He switched off the light and plunged them into almost darkness. Energy buzzed in the room. Her sensual awareness grew super high. She totally regretted the no knickers. She was too nude—and growing too damp. She couldn't really blame the shower.
Get a grip, Caitlin.

She could lie next to him and not think about sex. She could keep cool and in control of herself. She could try to remember to breathe.

‘You had dinner before the theatre?' he asked from the other side of the pillow ranges.

Caitlin swallowed a gasp. ‘Yes.'

At that moment, a prolonged gurgling sound rumbled round the deathly quiet room. Her stomach had just proved her a liar.

‘You spent your daily budget on your theatre ticket, didn't you?' He chuckled.

She sighed. No point in trying to lie now. ‘Yeah.' Not just today's budget, but tomorrow's too. And the next day's.

‘So you're hungry.'

Yeah. She was. For a number of things.

She felt the mattress bounce as he suddenly moved. She heard rustling. Then a tearing sound—was that
foil
? Was he—?

She yanked her thoughts from the rampantly horny. Man, was she that wired, that turned on by his mere presence, that her brain had fried, thinking he was about to sate her
sexual
appetite? That he was undoing a—

‘Here.'

In the dim light she saw his hand stretching over their pillow wall.

She reached out and took the small rectangular-shaped thing he was holding out. It was slightly warm, slightly soft. And as she drew it nearer to see what it was the scent told her. Her mouth watered.

‘Chocolate?' She felt almost faint at the divine smell.

‘I always have some with me. It has nuts in it, though—that okay?'

The man was an angel. ‘More than okay.' She nibbled on a corner, savouring, resisting the urge to swallow it in one gulp. ‘So this is your secret stash? That's what you keep by your bed?'

‘Uh-huh. Good, right?'

He
was so good. She slowly sucked the chocolate lump, letting it melt over her tongue. She nearly moaned at the sweet sensation.