She followed him to the bedroom. They took off their clothes in utter silence. It seemed as if there ought to be conversation, or banter, or at least some words.
And yet the silence was fine. It was a defense against saying too much, or too little, or the wrong thing.
He was still beautifully built, despite the scars marring his knee. And she was pretty sure that he’d been with lots of women who had curvier figures and longer legs and bigger breasts. So she didn’t ask him what he was thinking.
She just lay down with him and let him rock her world.
* * *
When Jessica awoke, the room was awash in the glow from the fireplace. Sometime in the last hours, while she’d been sleeping, Topher must have gotten up and turned on the gas.
How could she have fallen asleep and missed any minute of this encounter? But then again, the afterglow had been so peaceful.
She wanted more, which was unexpected and new. She wasn’t terribly experienced in relationships, but she’d never wanted more before. Usually she couldn’t wait to leave.
She rose onto an elbow and studied Topher. He’d lost the eye patch, and in the soft light, his scars weren’t noticeable. He was utterly beautiful at rest. The usual tension in his face had disappeared. She was tempted to wake him up, and she wondered if he might object if she stayed all night.
Not that she could. The gossip would be…
Oh, good grief. What had she been thinking? The gossip was going to be horrible.
She checked her watch. And then it was like her higher brain functions finally kicked in. It was almost three in the morning and she couldn’t stay.
She shouldn’t stay.
She got out of bed and tiptoed around the room collecting pieces of clothing.
“Don’t go,” he said from the bed, his voice rough and sexy.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she found her underwear where she’d dropped it on the floor. “I had a really good time, but I need to go.”
“Why?”
“I have a meeting in Miami this afternoon. My flight leaves in about six hours, and I haven’t even packed for it.”
He sat up in bed. “You have a meeting? A new client?”
“It’s a job interview.” She found her pants and pulled them on.
“You’re looking for a job?”
“No. But this opportunity fell in my lap. A firm that specializes in resilient design is trying to recruit me.”
“Oh. And when were you going to tell me this?”
He sounded angry, and she stomped on the urge to tell him it was none of his business. After last night, it probably was. Sort of. Not that she’d made any commitments. Thank goodness.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I should have told you last night. But—”
“Yeah, you should have.”
Now he sounded entitled, and that ticked her off. She finished buttoning up her blouse. “I’m sorry,” she said. “To be honest, this job interview is a blessing given what Caleb Tate is trying to do to me. To you. If I take this job, I don’t need to worry about the City Hall project.”
“Oh.” Now he sounded wounded, and she hated that even more.
“Look, I told you. I’m sorry. I had a really good time and I’d like to stay, but I need to go.”
She turned and jogged through the sitting room and out into a September night, lit up with moonlight that sparkled on the bay. What a perfect night for romance. Too bad she had somewhere else to be.
But maybe that was a good thing. Granny’s words from that day when she’d visited the office haunted Jessica as she hurried through the garden to the parking lot.
Christopher Martin is a man like your father.
The words played on an endless loop in Jessica’s mind as she drove herself home. She had enjoyed the evening, but maybe it was best to leave it at that.
She wanted nothing to do with Granny’s vision of her perfect Cinderella future.
* * *
Topher didn’t sleep the rest of the night. At six o’clock, he dragged himself from the bed and went out for a swim and then spent another couple of hours down at the local YMCA.
He sweated out his frustration, but he didn’t excise Jessica from his mind or his heart.
A hollow place had opened in his chest unlike the depression that had been his companion the last few months. He should have told her how he felt last night. He should have spoken what was in his heart.