Sean's Reckoning - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,63
in the first place, he thought, but encouraged by her teasing, he decided to push the point a little more. “We would if you’d finish picking out the paint.”
She laughed. “Nice try, but if you think I’m racing out of here to make love with you for the very first time with barely ten minutes to spare, you’re completely bonkers.”
“Fifteen minutes, if you let me come back and get the paint later,” he coaxed.
She patted his cheek. “Not a chance. I want lots and lots of time when we finally make love.”
When, not if. He made note of the distinction. Intrigued, he met her gaze. “Just out of curiosity, what do you intend to do with all that time?”
A blush crept into her cheeks. “Use your imagination.”
“Sweetheart, the way my imagination’s working overtime, we wouldn’t have enough time if we locked ourselves away for a month.”
She grinned. “Precisely.”
Sean stared at her. The woman had a wicked streak he’d noticed only once before, way back when she’d taunted him with that ice-cream cone. It was now clear that hadn’t been an aberration. It was also evident that boredom would certainly never be a problem. Now if he could just shake this overall terror that the thought of marriage and forever instilled in him, he might actually work up the nerve to propose.
In the meantime, he’d just have to settle for getting her to decide on the paint before the store closed for the night.
Deanna was slamming pots and pans around in the kitchen when Ruby got home that night. Ruby stood in the doorway and watched her warily.
“You and Sean have a fight?”
“Nope.”
“You did go to pick out paint at lunchtime, right?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And nothing,” Deanna grumbled, then sank onto a chair. “The man is making me crazy. Out of the blue, right there in the middle of the hardware store, he kissed me as if there were no tomorrow.”
Ruby stared. “Oh, my. Were you embarrassed?”
“No, not really.”
“Mad?” Apparently, curiosity won out over wariness, because Ruby risked coming in and sitting down at the table.
“Only because there wasn’t time to finish what he’d started,” Deanna admitted. “I have never wanted a man to make love to me so badly in my life. If he’d pushed just a little harder, I would have gone home with him then and there. Instead, he gave up.”
“You mean he took no for an answer,” Ruby teased. “Isn’t that what a gentleman’s supposed to do?”
“Well, of course it is,” Deanna conceded impatiently. “But it was annoying just the same. He should have figured out what I really wanted.”
“Men who think they know what a woman wants when she’s saying no tend to get themselves in a whole lot of trouble,” Ruby pointed out. “I’m sure Sean knows that. I think you’d better be a little more specific if you really want him to make love to you. Maybe set the scene, light some candles, put some flowers on the table, cook him a fabulous meal, kiss him till he can’t breathe.”
Deanna sighed at the suggestion. “Oh, yeah, that’s easy for you. You date all the time. You have confidence in yourself. I’ve been dumped by the only man I ever made love with. Maybe I’m really lousy at sex. Maybe I send out hands-off vibes.”
She knew that wasn’t entirely true. She had evidence that Sean wanted her, verbal evidence and solid proof, so to speak. His arousal today—and on other occasions, for that matter—had been unmistakable.
“Oh, please,” Ruby said. “Frankie Blackwell was a selfish, inconsiderate rat. He left because he was an irresponsible, immature idiot who thought you were going to be his meal ticket, not because you weren’t good in bed. He and Sean Devaney are nothing alike.” She regarded Deanna intently. “Is it really about being scared you’re not sexy, or is it about the fact that you’re terrified because you have feelings for Sean, the kind of feelings you’d told yourself you would never have again?”
“I don’t have feelings for him, not the way you mean,” Deanna insisted heatedly. “I just want to make love with him. He’s gorgeous. He’s sexy. It’s all about lust, nothing more.”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “If you were the type to go in for uncomplicated sex, I’d be the first to tell you to go for it, but you’re not. You’re the happily-ever-after type. You want romance and commitment. You’ve got a kid. You’re not going to indulge your hormones on a whim. If you were, you’d have done it