Real Men: Rugged Rebels: Watch and Learn / Under His Skin / Her Perfect Hero

15

GEMMA LOVED to make love in the morning. She stretched her arms tall and her legs long until her muscles sang, then she smiled and rolled over.

But at the sight of Chev Martinez slumbering on Jason’s side of the bed—his black hair stark against the white pillowcase, his gold earring glinting against his skin, his tattoo of a leafless tree vivid on his muscled shoulder—she panicked. His being here seemed so … wrong. She sat and pulled up a sheet to cover her breasts, still tender from Chev’s skillful hands and tongue.

Sometime during the night the rain had stopped. The morning sun slanted in the picture window, casting harsh light on the aftermath of their night of unbridled sex. The air was ripe with the aroma of body fluids, with at least three spent condoms in view. The sheets on the bed were tangled and warm, the bedspread and decorative pillows flung to the far corners of the room. The black mask dangled around her neck. Her costume from yesterday lay in one pile, his clothes in another. The sight of another man’s dress shoes on the area rug made her heart race. What had she done?

“Hey.”

She jumped, then looked over at Chev’s lazy morning smile. His impressive erection tented the sheet. His long bronzed limbs were sprawled across the bed, taking up an inordinate amount of space, crowding her.

“Hey,” she said, wondering how to delicately diffuse the situation … erase the previous night … go back to the way things had been—safe.

He reached forward, turned her hand over in his and ran his thumb over her palm, sending vibrations up her arm. “Since you don’t have to work today and I’m not expecting my crew for a couple of hours, how do you feel about making love in the morning?”

An alarm sounded in her head. This was too much, too soon … it couldn’t go any further. She pulled back, careful to keep herself covered. “Chev, we need to talk.”

His expression clouded. “Uh-oh, I know that tone.”

The ring of the phone cut through the air like a knife. Knowing it was rude, but grateful for the distraction, she dove for the receiver. In the back of her mind, despite the bad timing, she wondered perversely if it was Jason calling.

She was officially losing her mind.

“Hello?”

Sue’s voice came over the line. “Hey, there. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Gemma shot a glance at Chev, who was watching her closely, his dark eyes too perceptive. “No, you didn’t catch me at a bad time. What’s up?”

“I feel bad about some of the things I said yesterday morning,” Sue said. “I shouldn’t have encouraged you to have a fling with your neighbor. It’s none of my business.”

Chev swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed to his feet. Gemma watched him under her lashes, conceding a thrill at the sight of his lean buttocks and broad, muscled back.

“Are you there?” Sue asked.

“Yes, I’m here,” Gemma said, yanking her attention back to the phone call. “And that’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

With his back to her, Chev picked up his pile of clothes and walked across the hall to the bathroom. The door closed with a dull thud.

“Do you have company?” Sue asked, her tone suspicious.

“What? No, of course not.” But Gemma heard the false, tinny ring to her own voice.

“Oh, my God, you do have company! It’s the neighbor, isn’t it?”

In her confusion, Gemma waited too long to respond.

Sue whooped. “Yes! Was it fantastic?”

Gemma stood and reached for a robe, eager to be covered when Chev reemerged. “Um … can we talk about this later?”

“Only if you promise me the play-by-play.”

“Goodbye, Sue.”

She was tying the belt on her robe when Chev came out of the bathroom, fully dressed. She finger-combed her hair self-consciously, hating the awkwardness that reverberated between them, hating that she was the cause. She sensed that with one signal from her, he’d carry her back to bed. Her nipples hardened and he noticed, but she crossed her arms over them.

“Do you want to talk about last night?” he asked.

“Not really,” she said, being honest. She inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “I told you I’m better at keeping things at a distance.”

“Really? Then you faked it pretty convincingly.”

Her traitorous body started humming in remembrance. “Chev, we both know this can’t go anywhere.”

His dark eyes bored into hers for several long seconds, then he nodded. “You’re right. I guess that’s my cue to leave.”

But when he turned to go, she experienced that same horrible empty feeling she’d experienced when he’d left the museum. She realized with a sinking heart that while her mind knew what was best, her body knew what felt best.

“Would you like to see the mural before you go?” she asked, gesturing to the room she’d turned into a studio.

He pursed his mouth. “Sure.”

She led him inside the room, feeling a little lift at the sight of the simple but colorful landscape that had emerged on the piece of canvas.

He looked at it thoughtfully for a few seconds, so silent that she began to feel nervous.

“If you don’t like it,” she said hurriedly, “don’t feel compelled to hang it.”

“I think it’s wonderful,” he said solemnly. “You’re very talented, Gemma.”

A flush warmed her cheeks. “I haven’t painted anything in years. I enjoyed doing it. It should be dry enough to install soon.”

“Okay. I’ll let you decide when,” he said, his gaze level.

She realized he was referring to more than the painting. Gemma swallowed and nodded, following him downstairs. But she needn’t have. After a glance at Jason’s things still cluttering the living room, he was out the front door and had closed it behind him before she reached the bottom step. She glanced guiltily through the front window, wondering if any of her neighbors had noticed the strange man leaving her house at the unseemly hour. After deeming that Petal Lagoon was deserted, she heaved a sigh of relief, feeling as if she’d dodged a bullet.

Déjà vu. Like years before … a close call.

But on the heels of relief came that nagging feeling of watching Chev walk away … and not liking it. Still, she couldn’t have it both ways, and this was how things had to be. She couldn’t undo last night, but it would be foolish to let her relationship with Chev become more complicated.

She climbed the stairs and stepped into the shower brimming with self-recrimination. Leaning her forehead against the cool tile, she groaned. She should’ve maintained distance between them, like she’d planned. Then she wouldn’t be haunted by the memories of making love with the man all night long. Her body sang with latent longing. Unbidden, delicious chills ran over her shoulders and down her arms.

The chemistry between them was undeniable, unbelievable. For the first time, she understood what Dr. Alexander had been trying to tell her female students about the almost magical occurrence of having sex with a partner who was physically compatible in every respect.

Gemma leaned back to let the warm water fall over her breasts and find a natural trail down to the juncture of her thighs. At one point last night, she had felt as if she were having an out-of-body experience. Dr. Alexander would definitely approve.

She had to admit that sex with Chev had been more satisfying than performing for him. On the other hand, performing for him had stoked them both to the fever pitch that had catapulted them into bed. And kept them there for hours and hours … and hours.

And while it probably wasn’t fair, it was impossible not to compare his lovemaking to Jason’s. They were, after all, the only two men she’d ever slept with.

Where Jason had been tentative, Chev was fearless.

Where Jason had been reserved, Chev was expressive.

Where Jason had been missionary, Chev was acrobatic.

But you can’t stay in bed twenty-four hours a day, her mind whispered. And what happens after the spontaneous fire burns itself out?

Loneliness.

Sobered, Gemma climbed from the shower and forced herself to matters at hand. The museum was closed today, so she didn’t have to work. She spent the morning paying bills and balancing her checkbook, a task that took twice as long as it should have because her mind kept straying to the noise of the equipment and activity next door. Then she reasoned that since the weather had improved, she might as well clean up the mess the peacock had created in her yard before the neighborhood association left a threatening note in her mailbox.

The mailbox … changing her name was one more thing she’d been stalling on.

She wondered if some small part of her thought that if Jason did return, seeing the mailbox unchanged would be a sign that their marriage could be repaired.

Adding to her mental to-do list, she gathered her yard tools, hat and gloves.

It was a glorious day in the neighborhood. The rain had given summer a nudge, turning pale greens to deep emerald and dark greens to teal. The bird-of-paradise plants had bloomed riotously, with vivid orange petals and arrow-shaped blue-and-white “tongues.” From the thickened grass, Gemma picked up a vibrant peacock feather and stroked the fringed edges, admiring the iridescent colors of green and teal and gold. She shaded her eyes and looked up into the trees that the peacock had favored, but the flamboyant pest was nowhere in sight. After creating upheaval in her life, it looked like he had finally moved on.

As she raked the yard and filled lawn trash bags with debris, she found herself stealing glances next door. More trucks and bodies than she’d ever seen before rambled over the property, apparently trying to make up for the day lost to rain. She saw Chev moving among the men in his work clothes, a red bandanna tied over his jet-black hair. Just watching him interact with the other men made her midsection pulse and her breathing accelerate. He looked in her direction once, but she couldn’t tell if it was accidental or if he was seeking her out.

But why would he? She’d made it clear that she didn’t want to sleep with him again. She should be relieved that he had indicated he would respect her wishes.

Wait for her to make the next move.

Her body felt heavy and stiff with tension, feeling at war with herself. Part of her ached to feel Chev’s touch, part of her was convinced it would only lead to heartache. She should have insisted that they keep things at a distance. Now things were complicated. Now her heart was involved, and it made her feel exposed in a way that performing for him at the window never had.

She dragged the bags of lawn debris to the curb. Gemma removed her hat and used a glove to wipe away the perspiration on her hairline. She stared at her mailbox, wavering. Jason and Gemma White.

A shadow appeared overhead, then a loud yelp sounded. Gemma cried out and covered her head with her arms. The wide-winged peacock landed gracefully on the mailbox with a sound like a heavy blanket being shaken over a bed. The blue bird tucked in his wings and stared at her, his long train of tail feathers hanging to the ground, his head bobbing. The precise crown of feathers on its head gave the appearance of a Medieval war helmet topped with a colorful brush. Indeed, he didn’t look particularly friendly at the moment. He thrust his regal head forward and unleashed a series of high-pitched cries.

Gemma stumbled backward and fell hard on her tail-bone, then put up her arm to ward off the bird in case he decided she looked … mountable. “Go away!” she shouted, flailing to get to her feet.

A strong arm hauled her up. “Are you okay?” Chev asked, his face creased in concern.

“I’m fine,” she said, feeling foolish. And feeling something else at the familiarity of his touch.

He waved his arms at the bird until it flew up in the trees.

“I was hoping I’d seen the last of him,” she muttered.

“He’s stubborn,” Chev admitted. “It might take more to get rid of him than you planned.”

His words resonated with double meaning, but if his words sounded menacing, the mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes took the sting out of them.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” she said. “Again.”

“You’re welcome. I also came over to tell you that the thermostat for your HVAC unit arrived. I have my hands full right now, but I was thinking I could come over tomorrow and install it for you.”

She knew that his simply being in her house again would be a dangerous temptation. Gemma moistened her dry lips. “I have to work. Could you come over when I get home?”

His regard swept over her, grazing every nerve ending. “I’ll be watching.” Then he turned and walked away.

16

GEMMA’S PHONE RANG as she slid behind the wheel of her car for the commute home from the museum. It was Sue—again. Since yesterday morning her friend had left two messages to call, but Gemma hadn’t yet because she didn’t want to be grilled about Chev.

Yet at the third insistent ring she conceded with a sigh that she was only putting off the inevitable.

“Hello?”

“Well, it’s about freaking time. I was ready to come see you in person to make sure you were okay.”

“I’ve been busy,” Gemma hedged, starting her car.

“Good. With the neighbor?”

Damn … just the mention of Chev made her heart beat faster. “Sue, you’re making way too much out of this.”

“Humor me, okay? There’s nothing this juicy going on in my life.”

“He’s coming over to fix my air conditioner tonight. I wouldn’t call that juicy.”

“That depends on which tool he pulls out of his belt.”

Gemma couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s silliness. “When did you get so bawdy?”

“I’m envious. You have a sexy job and a hot new boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“So you don’t deny that he’s hot?”

“No comment.”

Sue laughed. “You don’t have to tell me. I can hear it. When you talk about this guy, your voice gets all low and husky. You never sounded that way when you talked about Jason.”

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