She pouted as he set her on her feet beneath the warm spray, but the feel of the water sluicing over her exhausted flesh was just too damned good to bitch over it.
“Let me take care of you now, Kei.” He pulled her against him once more before soaping a washrag and beginning to wash her gently. “I’ll take care of everything.”
It was beginning to occur to her that perhaps he was a bit more of a control freak than she had ever imagined.
“We’re going to have to talk about this,” she warned him.
“In the morning,” he promised. “Tonight, just rest. Just let me hold you tonight.”
There was no request in his voice. It was a demand, and her lips twitched.
She sighed. “I was right about you.”
“How’s that?”
“When I first met you, I told one of my coworkers you were like one of those storms that come up at sea all of a sudden. Powerful and wild. I don’t know if I can keep up, Mac.”
He turned her, staring down at her with dark, wary eyes.
“I’m not asking you to keep up,” he finally said softly. “Just let me hold you through it. Unlike the storm, Keiley, I know what’s precious to me. I promise not to let you drown.”
“What if I can’t give you what you want?”
A small smile tipped his lips. “I have no doubt you can give me exactly what I want and more. But if you need space, if you need time, we can discuss that.”
They could discuss it? She tried to frown, but she was just too damned tired.
“And we will discuss it,” she told him. “As soon as I find my mind again. I think you just blew it away.”
“I’ll help you find it.” He kissed her head gently. “That and so much more, sweetheart. More than you could ever imagine.”
7
She still couldn’t find the dress and she didn’t have time to search the rest of the house for it. Not that she would have had time to wash it before the meeting anyway.
When Keiley awoke the next morning it was much later than she had intended, leaving her only a few hours to dress for the meeting with the charity committee and head out the door.
Mac was already out of bed and obviously working, and as Keiley pulled on the charcoal sundress she chose to wear in place of the Egyptian cotton, she hoped Jethro was with him.
How was she going to manage to face either one of them today? The events of the night before felt more like a dream than reality, but she couldn’t manage to convince herself that they had just been a strange little illusion.
Mac had held her, his hard body cushioning her back as another man kissed her. Not just another man, but his best friend. The man he was rumored to almost exclusively share his women with before his marriage.
The memory of it had her knees weakening as she buttoned the small pearl buttons that ran from the neckline to the hem of the summer dress.
The cotton blend was incredibly light and cool, the sleeveless straps crisscrossed at her back, and the skirt flowed to the midpoint above her knees. The bodice skimmed her br**sts, but the material and cut of the design were flattering to her figure without being provocative.
She looked informally businesslike, she assured herself before heading from the bedroom.
She couldn’t hear any movement in the house, which she hoped meant it was deserted. Rushing to her office, she grabbed her purse and leather briefcase. Opening the butter-soft leather satchel, she checked to make certain the check she had written out the night before for the booth for the charity committee was inside, as well as a copy of the map of the booths. She closed it and moved quickly from her office.
Rushing through the doorway, her head down to find the keys in her purse, she ran headlong into an immovable object.
The purse went flying. The briefcase fell to the floor, and Keiley looked up in shock to meet the wickedly amused gaze of her houseguest.
“This beats a ‘good morning’ any day of the week,” he murmured, his fingers caressing her shoulders where he had caught her to steady her, his body pressed closely against her own.
Keiley felt frozen in place, staring up at him as contradictory emotions tore through her. She should run. She should stay. She shouldn’t be frozen with arousal, confusion, and fear. And she sure as hell shouldn’t be remembering that kiss the night before as his fingers had worked the snap of her jeans loose.