Yours to Savor (10 page)

Brandon pulled back. It took all his restraint to do it, and he almost lost his self-control as Sandra blinked at him with those delicious doe eyes and opened her mouth for more. The way she looked at him, with her eyes tugging at her soul, told him she was ready for more. Right away.

No
. He wanted to do this
right
, goddammit, and wouldn’t ruin it by taking her so early. Even if she was willing, he would not allow her to be pulled into his arms and led in the song and dance that would end with both of them panting in bed.

Brandon understood that whatever reservations Sandra had about men in her life—including him—were only barriers she put up to protect herself. He could push through them—he saw how naturally her body reacted to him. While they might deceive less experienced men, Brandon sensed the depths of her desire.

But if he pushed, she might see herself as no more than a one-night stand. If Brandon took her to bed tonight, tomorrow she might wake up and assume that he had no deeper intentions. It would tarnish the romance he’d begun to build on his yacht. And if this was supposed to be his first attempt at a serious relationship, he had to take things slow.

No matter how difficult it was for him.

Brandon couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted a woman like he desired Sandra. But he couldn’t act on his passion yet. He knew that he
could
be the warrior who captured her body for one evening,
could
be the one to bring her untold pleasure this night. She might remember him after—even think back on the day with a prurient nostalgia—but that wasn’t all he wanted. He aimed for something deeper.

He wanted to reach her on a more profound level. The effort he’d gone through to find her this morning, to set up the evening—timing the trip with the sunset, picking out the best champagne—all that would go to waste if she left with a bad taste in her mouth after one night of sex.

So, he had to step away.

The story she told
him explained some of her behavior—but he was sure she hid another secret. No matter how comfortable she might feel around him, there was no way she’d reveal everything about herself in one night.

She deserved better than the men she’d had in her life. The way she talked about Henry assured Brandon that the sex had been as passionless as the rest of their relationship. He sensed Sandra’s yearning for zest, excitement, and
real
feeling. She’d wrapped herself too tight in a cocoon of self-deprivation. Brandon wanted nothing more than to take her young, inexperienced body on a journey to the heights of pleasure she could reach with him.

But. Not. Yet.

He needed her to be completely open to him for that. The story about her last relationship was a start, yet it would take more time for her to trust herself with him. Brandon wanted to create an environment where she could blossom into the woman he imagined her to be.

Besides, that peculiar feeling that he knew her from somewhere still troubled his mind. It would take more than one night for him to discover where that came from. And that vague impression of familiarity grew even stronger when she told him she was from Chicago—he’d grown up there.

Sandra stepped up to him, looking confused and slightly hurt. His hands ached to explore the delicious curves of her body, and he wanted nothing more than to ravish her with the pure, aggressive passion that boiled in his blood. He wanted her sweet lips back against his own, wanted her—

No, dammit!

She blinked as he stepped away, widening the distance between them. One more touch from her would kill him. He clasped both hands behind his back lest they misbehave.
Besides, I have to get back to Clarisse soon.

“The hour’s up,” he said gruffly. The words came out too rough. He saw disappointment flash on Sandra’s face, tinged by a hint of surprise. As quickly as those emotions had come, however, they disappeared. Sandra stood straight. A cool look settled upon her dark liquid eyes. The walls were up again. She was hiding the truth of her feelings.

“Oh.”

It took all the willpower he had left in his body to turn and walk away from Sandra. Her delicate skin called to him like a siren out at sea, promising the allure of her womanly aroma, of her feminine
being
. If she’d been anybody else—
anybody else!
—he would have taken her there and then, right on the deck of the yacht.

And forgotten about her the next morning.

But he was not ready to forget Sandra. “I need to take you back to shore.” He heard a sharp intake of breath, and hated himself for saying the words. But, in a way, he was proud of what he had done. Forming an intimate relationship with Sandra would take time. It would take patience. “I have a meeting to attend,” he said gruffly.

The sail back was quiet. Sullen. Doubt brooded in the back of Sandra’s mind. Had she been too willing when Brandon kissed her? Had she scared him off by how easily she’d responded? Did he think of her as no more than some mindless slut?

Or, does he have another woman in his life?
she wondered.

He seemed to be stewing in his own thoughts, so Sandra gave him space as he steered the yacht back to shore.

When they arrived at the dock, Brandon followed her off the boat, but his movements were stiff and cold. He was not himself—or at least the self she remembered laughing with her on the boat.

“I have work,” he said finally. “Otherwise… otherwise, I’d ask you to stay.” He turned away.

Sandra looked at him, not understanding the change in his demeanor. When he turned back and cracked a smile, Sandra could tell it was forced. “Well, you gave me the hour. Next time, we’ll do it right.”

“Next time?” she asked.

“I want to see you again. You told me your story… yet you barely know mine.” He cursed, glancing at his watch. “I really have to go. I’d take you home, but I can’t. There’s a taxi waiting on the street. It’s paid for.”

“Oh. Okay.”
Is this the rejection
?

She turned away, started down the dock. Alone.

“Sandra.” She stopped on hearing her name. “Wait.” A glimmer of hope parted the clouds in her mind.
Did he have a change of heart
? She turned back, excitement building inside… and was crushed when Brandon cupped her chin as if she were a child, and placed a perfunctory kiss on her cheek.

“I
will
see you again,” he promised, and then turned around to go back to the boat.

As she climbed the steep face of the cliff, one thought kept churning through her mind:
What kind of business could take place on a boat… at
night
?

Chapter Six

Sandra’s mood had improved considerably by the time she got back to her apartment.

She’d had ample time to replay the kiss in her mind, to figure out what went wrong. There was nothing she would have done differently.

There was a fire within Brandon when he kissed her. He wanted her, and—
God
—she could not deny wanting him. But then something had changed, and he became… restrained. When he stepped away, she thought he was rejecting her. But later, when he said he wanted to see her again, she understood that it hadn’t been a rejection.

Why would he make such a spectacular effort if his interest wasn’t genuine?
The perfect timing with the sunset, the exquisite champagne, the passionate way he listened as she babbled on about her life… all of it made him seem compassionate and caring—not at all like the egotistical man of her first impression.
Something else must have triggered his unexpected restraint,
she thought.
Something not to do with me.

Despite the awkward ending to the date, the night had been magical. It was the best night she’d spent with a man in years.

As she clomped up the stairs to her cramped third story studio apartment, Sandra felt a giddy excitement building in her middle. Brandon had taken her, for a precious hour or so, away from the worries and stresses of regular life. Why
couldn’t
she pretend that, tonight, her life was a fairy tale?

As she fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked her door, she found herself hoping to see Brandon again. He’d said it would happen himself.
A rich, intriguing, and infinitely seductive guy could be just what I need right now
. Forget the rich, even—that didn’t matter much. He was handsome and had an air of mystery about him that promised to sweep her up and make her forget all her problems. Brandon, it seemed, evoked feelings in her that she hadn’t expected to find for a long time—especially not in Ocean Shores.

The door opened, and Sandra was jerked unceremoniously back to reality.

A streetlight shone through her tiny window, casting a sad, pale glow over the sparse furnishings of her room. The tiny fridge at the foot of her bed had leaked,
again
. The ice in the freezer had melted and the puddle of water had made a pond of half the room.

Sandra sank against the wall. The jarring contrast to the opulent night with Brandon was almost,
almost
enough to make her cry. Instead—as always—she forced herself up, picked her way to the bathroom, and laid down a towel she’d kept there for exactly that purpose. Then, after kicking off her shoes, she collapsed on her bed and closed her eyes.