He slid to the center of the duvet and made a place for her beside him. His smile made it seem reasonable that she was curling up beside an almost naked man; make that, big hunky almost naked man. He pulled her closer, nestling her in the curve of his body. His arm made a great pillow as he settled the duvet around her.
Max was acutely aware of his skin touching hers and his arm curled over her. She was sure she would never be able to fall asleep like that, but she did.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, Max opened her eyes cautiously. She was still curled in Jon’s arms. She’d slept well.
Surprise!
Now what? When he wakes up will he want sex? Will he expect sex? She wished she could see his face. She closed her eyes again. She felt his arm under her neck and his chest against her back and...A firm presence pressed against her backside let her know what Jon was dreaming of. Spirals of passion stirred within her, sending dangerous messages to her brain. Messages demanding that she act on her feelings.
She threw back the duvet and ran to the bathroom area. She turned on the water tap in the tub to mask the sound of her using the toilet. I need walls. I need a door. She filled the tub and slipped in a few capfuls of the bubble bath Willa had included in her last Christmas girlie gift basket. The fragrance of gardenias and citrus filled the space. Max brushed her teeth, squirting too much toothpaste onto her toothbrush in the process and causing her to foam at the mouth like a mad dog.
She stripped out of her panties and tee, tossing them beside the tub and stepped into the bubble-filled void.
She sank down into the water, surrounded by the fragrant foam until only her face was above water. The heady scent was cloying but tolerable.
“Millie?”
“I’m in the tub!” She was well aware that he stood on the other side of a piece of canvas which she’d considered an adequate barrier up until now.
“Close your eyes,” he said. “This is your only bathroom and I have to come in.”
Max closed her eyes. She heard a sound like Niagara Falls. She opened her eyes and saw Jon standing in front of her toilet. I need walls. I need a door.
She took a deep breath and slipped below the water. She held her breath until she thought he’d been given adequate time to relieve himself and depart. She’d had to fight a brother for bathroom time, after all.
She surfaced, wiping the suds out of her eyes. Sure enough, Jon was gone. One more embarrassing moment avoided.
“Scoot up.”
She turned to find Jon standing behind her. He seemed to be stepping out of his boxers.
“Scoot forward. I’m coming in.”
“What?”
He grinned down at her. “I’m joining you. We can save water.”
Max barely had time to move forward a few inches when Jon was sliding in behind her.
Her heart did a tumble and roll. “What are you doing?” she yelped.
“I’m taking a bath,” he said. “I like your tub. Could you pass the shampoo?”
Wordlessly, she passed the sweet-smelling shampoo from Willa’s gift basket.
He poured the viscous liquid into his palm and worked it into her hair. The sensation of his fingers massaging the lather onto her scalp was hypnotic. Max relaxed, in spite of her misgivings, as Jon drew her shoulders back to lean against his chest.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Millie,” he whispered close to her ear. “I’m the guy who loves you. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” A dawning awareness that she was seated comfortably between Jon’s thighs caused a ripple of excitement to course through her.
His voice held a smoky quality as he leaned close to her ear. “I loved holding you in my arms as you slept.”
Chills scurried across her shoulders and down her spine. “It was nice.” She struggled to sound casual.
“And I loved waking up with you, but you jumped out of bed so fast I didn’t have a chance to say good morning.”
Yeah! Right! Is that what they’re calling it now? “Good Morning.”
Jon stroked the back of her neck, rubbing little circles with his fingers. He scooped a palmful of water and poured it over her shoulder. He kissed the shoulder, his soft lips contrasting with his prickly growth of beard sent electrical impulses shooting down her spine. A tiny sound escaped from her throat.
Jon chuckled, embracing her with both arms.
Max turned halfway around; sure of what she was going to say until she caught the expression on his face. He cupped her chin in his palm and kissed her.
“No—I can’t do this,” she said, pushing away.
A feeling, not unlike pain rose from her gut. “Those words come easy for you. It makes me think you’ve done this a lot. You’re so smooth. I feel like I’m falling down into a deep bottomless pit.”
He stroked her cheek. “I’m falling right alongside you.”
“It’s different with you,” she insisted. “You seem to know where we’re going and I’m not certain I want to go there.”
“I’m not pushing.”
She made a sound in the back of her throat. “You’re naked in my bathtub.” Max turned on the hand-held shower head and rinsed her hair. “And you’re touching me and making me feel things I’m not sure I want to feel.”
“I can’t make you feel something if it’s not there, no matter how much I want it.”
“Close your eyes,” she ordered. “And no peeking.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He closed his eyes, grinning as Max stood up to rinse her body and step from the tub.
She wrapped herself in her blue robe as someone began banging on the metal door.
Jon opened his eyes. “Expecting company? Is it Max?”
“I...I don’t know.” She slipped outside the canvas barrier to open the door for Willa.
“Hey, Max,” she said. “I brought cappuccino and doughnuts. Nothing jump starts the creative process like carbohydrates and caffeine.”
Max flapped her hands and shook her head. She put her finger to her lips and pointed to the bathroom area.
“Oh, uh, well. Here’s your cappuccino,” she said. “I’m going to get a plate for the doughnuts.”
Max herded her into the kitchen area and cupped her hands around her mouth, whispering in Willa’s ear, “It’s Jon.”
Willa giggled, miming surprise.
A sudden rush of water sounded as they heard him rinsing under the hand held shower.
Willa stared at Max, openmouthed. “Omigod! I must have blinked. When did your relationship go into high gear?”
“Later,” Max said.
“Millie, would you bring my pants?” Jon called out.
Max found his jeans and carried them behind the canvas drape.
Wrapping a towel around his hips, Jon gave her a sharp look. He reached for the jeans but took Max’s arm as well, drawing her near.
“I heard what Willa said,” he growled. “She thought Max was in your tub.” He gazed into her eyes as though he might find some answer there.
“What are you implying?” Max tilted her head, gazing up at him defiantly, as her stubborn streak came surging to the fore.
“Are you having an intimate relationship with Max Foster?”
“And if I was?” Max raised her eyebrows and felt her lower jaw jut out a bit.
A muscle in his jaw worked. “I’d be very disappointed,” he said. “But it would explain a lot.” His dark eyes seemed to be penetrating her soul.
“Such as?” Max knew her voice had taken on a defensive quality.
“Such as your reluctance to be involved with me.”
She sensed anger mounting behind his controlled words. “Are women always so easy for you?”
He hesitated a moment.
“Do women always fall for you?” she
repeated.
“This is different. I’ve had my share of women, but not one to make me feel the way you do.” Jon’s gaze seemed to penetrate her defenses.
Max took a breath and expelled it slowly, releasing her defiance. “I can assure you that I’ve never had a sexual relationship with Max Foster.”
He held her arm a moment more and then took the jeans from her. “Good,” he said.
Max started to leave but turned back in time to see Jon drop the towel and step into his boxers. A deep crimson blush crept up from her neck as she fled.
A few minutes later, Jon stepped out shirtless in his jeans. He greeted Willa amicably and accepted a cup of cappuccino from her.
“Good morning, Jon,” she said. “Are you all set for the opening?”
“I talked to Cherise Friday morning and we made final plans. We need to start moving the paintings next week. I’m using a caterer who’s just starting out. He’s a fraternity brother of mine from college.”
A frown appeared on Willa’s fine features. “Are you sure you want to take a chance on a newcomer?”
“We’re just serving champagne and canapés. This guy used to own a restaurant. Hopefully he won’t screw up something so simple.” Jon located his socks and boots, sinking down onto the futon to pull them on.
He stood and folded the futon into a functional seat. Glancing at Max, he gave her a little smile and motioned her to him. When she was close enough, he took the collar of her blue terry robe in both hands to pull her closer.
“I’m sorry I got jealous. I just care about you so deeply.” He stared into her eyes, sending melt messages to her heart. “Is it all right if I come over later?”
“Why wouldn’t it be all right?” She tried to control the tremor in her voice.
“I thought maybe you might be getting tired of me.”
She grinned up at him. “Nope. I’ll let you know.”
“Are you going to make dinner?”
“Sure, if you like peanut butter and crackers.”
“Not my favorite. I’ll take you to dinner,” he said. “Dress casually and I’ll be here at seven.” He kissed her briefly and reached for his shirt.
He waved at Willa and left with his shirt still unbuttoned.
Max locked the door behind him and turned with a grin on her face.
Willa sipped her cappuccino thoughtfully. “That image of Jon Claude Donnell, shirtless and wearing boots and Wranglers is permanently burned into my brain. How hot can one man be?”
“Try the image that’s burned into my brain of Jon without the boots and Wranglers.”
Willa shrieked. “How did this happen so fast?”
“It is going too fast, isn’t it?” Max asked.
“I’ve never seen you so infatuated with a man.”
Max felt the shiver run down her spine again. “I’m scared, Willa,” she said. “What if Jon is the man I’m meant to spend forever with and I’ve permanently screwed it up by telling all my lies? I met his parents this weekend and now they’re calling me Millie.”
“How did that go?”
“They were wonderful people. Solid citizens who raised a son to be proud of. They were looking at me like the mother of the next generation of Donnells.
“Twelve days until the opening at Gilman Galleries. Hold on a little longer and I’ll fix it.” Willa reached for a doughnut. “Everything will be okay.”
“Do you really believe that?” Max asked. “Do you really think I believe that?”
Willa ducked her head, a sure sign she was prevaricating. “Just get busy and crank out a few more paintings for the show. You won’t worry when you’re painting.”
Willa left and Max got dressed. She threw herself into a new abstract, all the while thinking about the hill country landscapes on Jon’s parents’ walls. She tried to incorporate the same colors and the way the light slanted through the sugar maples into an abstract painting. Those are the elements I’m abstracting.
Surprised that her enthusiasm for the subject energized her new work, she completed it by mid-afternoon. She found a place for the finished painting on the floor toward the back of the loft. Cleaning her brushes and replacing her supplies, she looked around her dwelling.
The loft had been a bargain. The huge space and the great natural lighting were all she had been looking for. Due to the general state of disrepair, her rent was low. It wasn’t much of a home, though. She’d talk to Merrick soon and beg him to enclose the toilet. That was a start.
Someone knocked on her door. It was way too early to be Jon. “Who is it?” she called through the door.
“Delivery.”
“I haven’t ordered anything,” she shouted back.
“Mister Donnell ordered the delivery.”
She opened the door to a man in a beige coverall with a Claremont Design patch on his chest. He stood beside a dolly with a load of glass block on it.
Her heart took a leap of joy. She grinned and pointed to the bathroom area. It took several trips for the man to bring the entire load of glass block up in the freight elevator. After he’d gone, she inspected her treasure. The glass had a rippled texture that she liked. It looked like the surface of still water when someone tossed in a pebble.
By the time Jon arrived, she was dressed in her best jeans and Henley. The door was open and she sat on the futon with her feet tucked up under her.
He was dressed in Wranglers with his boots, but he’d changed his shirt and added a jacket. Jon could manage casual elegance with little effort.
Max could only manage shabby chic with total concentration. She’d brushed her hair to a high gloss and spritzed on the lemon verbena body spray from Willa’s gift basket. She’d planned to re-gift the basket to her mother when the next occasion requiring a present snuck up and caught her unprepared. But the need for camouflage that very morning had subverted her scheme.
Jon leaned against the door frame, silently taking in her appearance.
“Too casual?”
“Too perfect,” he said.
“I’m far from perfect.” Max shot him a glance from under her lashes.
“You’ll do.” Jon sauntered to the futon and stood gazing down at her.
“Where are you taking me?”
As he leaned toward her, she found that her arms automatically reached for him, as though they should be embracing him, as though they were going home.
“With me.” Jon slipped his arms around her and lifted her to her feet. “Always, with me.” He lowered his lips to hers, invading her mouth, inviting her tongue to play.
She felt the stirrings of lust rushing through her body. I can’t have sex with this man. I’m lying to him. And yet, she could only think about the man who held her in his arms. She could only feel the strength in his body and her own heartbeat pounding through hers. She could taste his kiss long after he released her.
“Thanks for the glass,” she said breathlessly. She gestured to the stacks of glass block occupying a significant portion of the brick wall she shared with the vacant loft next door. “It was an unexpected windfall.”
“Glad I could please you. We should go now.”
“Am I presentable enough for the restaurant?”
“Absolutely.”
He drove her to a high rise close to downtown and parked underground.
“Is there a restaurant on the roof?” she asked as he held the elevator door open for her.
“Almost.” He selected a floor and the elevator doors shut silently, enclosing them in a private universe. He gazed at her, an amused expression on his face.
The elevator opened, disgorging them on the top floor. He unlocked his apartment and led her inside. The lights were turned low and soft music seemed to surround them. Sheer curtains floated in the gentle breeze wafting through French doors opened to the balcony.
“This is your place?” Max turned around in a circle. “It’s a palace.”
The apartment looked like a page from a decorator’s magazin
e. Dark wood and leather contrasted with light blue and cream colored fabrics. The gleam of brushed nickel glinted from the hardware and from futuristic looking lighting and ceiling fans.
His voice was deep and seemed to caress her skin. “I live here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me we were coming here?”
“I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d refuse. I’ll admit that I wanted to be alone with you.”
“You should have told me.” Max wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture.
Jon took a step toward her and embraced her as she embraced herself. He kissed her forehead and rested his chin in her hair. “I’ll take you somewhere else, if you want.”
She pressed her face into his shirt, inhaling the scent that seemed to be a part of him. “You should at least show me around this posh pad.”
The doorbell sounded and Jon answered it. A man delivered a large white bag with double handles. Jon tipped him and turned to Max.
“This is our dinner. I told you I wasn’t handy in the kitchen.” He set the bag on the smoked glass table set for two. “Do you want to eat, tour the place or leave?”