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“Now,” she whispered faintly against his mouth as he tugged at the waistband of his briefs. “We have to stop now.”
He kissed her again into silence, not allowing himself to worry too much. This wasn’t like their make-out sessions in college. She wouldn’t leave him high and dry. They were adults, and she wanted him. She’d come to his bed, stripped off her gown and was kissing him even now with a feverish need, a very sexual need.
A tortured groan escaped her, and she caught his hands in her own. “Cade, I…I have to think about this.”
Think about this, she’d said. Not get a condom. Surprise made Cade pull back to read her face. “Think about what?”
“This. Us.” Her expression was troubled as she squirmed from beneath him and sat up. “Having sex.”
“Don’t think so much.” He levered himself up on one arm and hijacked her mouth in another kiss—a little more urgent than the ones they’d been sharing. A little more impatient.
She matched his impatience with a roughness of her own, an exhilarating thrust and parry that roused him all the more.
But then she broke away, panting as if she’d been wrestling rather than kissing. “I know you’re right. I do think too much. And you’re right about our kisses, too.” She paused to catch her breath, her eyes luminous, her color high, her hair tousled and sexy. “Just kissing you makes me hotter than…than…oh, never mind.”
She initiated the kiss this time.
Fire leaped within him, and his next kiss pressed her back against the pillows. She groaned, wrapped an arm around his neck and arched against him. He rubbed a greedy hand over her breast until the tender peak stood high and tight and scraped across his palm.
She gasped, writhed and ran her silky knee up his thigh…up, up, up, to the tip of his erection, sending shards of heat through his groin.
With a sharp hiss of breath, he plunged his hand in a downward path toward the dark curls glistening between her thighs.
She caught his hand again, though, just shy of his destination, and held it. “This is wrong. I can’t let myself do this.” She pulled away from him and scooted to the side of the bed.
Dazed and shaken, Cade watched in disbelief as she rose and pulled up her panties. “I’m sorry, Cade.”
Sorry. Which meant she was doing it again! Just as she had in college—leaving him all hot and bothered and half-crazed. “Brynn,” he said, his voice inhumanly gruff, “what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m going back to my room.” She found her rumpled nightgown on the floor, slipped the filmy fabric over her head and smoothed it down her maddening body.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t jump into bed with you without even thinking about it.”
He sprang from the bed, crossed the room in two long strides and trapped her against the dresser, anchoring his arms on either side of her. “In case you don’t remember, you did jump into bed with me without even thinking about it. You also stripped off your clothes, kissed me into a goddamn fever—”
“I know, I know!” She glanced at the erection straining beneath his briefs, and looked away with a guilty wince. “I’m sorry about that, but—”
“What are you afraid of, Brynn?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Then what is it?” A thought hit him, and he asked with a curious tightness in his jaw, “Are you in love with someone else?” The tightness spread to his chest. “The guy who makes you think you’re frigid?”
“No!” She frowned at him, and relief rushed through his veins. “I’m not in love with anyone. And don’t talk about Antoine that way.”
“Antoine? He’s French?”
She nodded, and Cade scowled. There was something about Frenchmen that drove women a little crazy. “If you’re not in love with this Antoine, then what’s stopping you from having sex with me? If you think you don’t want to, you’re lying to yourself.”
“Oh, I know I want to.” Her voice had gone all throaty and her gaze warmed. “There’s always been sexual chemistry between us. I’ve never denied that.”
Cade pressed closer, longing for the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body moving beneath his.
Her gaze grew apologetic, though, and he had to hold back a curse. “But…well…” She searched for words that clearly evaded her.
“But what, damn it?”
“You’re…Cade Hunter.”
He stared at her, nonplussed. What the hell did she mean by that? Before he was able to decipher the statement in any rational way, she ducked under his arm and fled across the room, her sheer gown billowing out behind her.
“That’s no answer,” he called, bewildered, riled and more sexually frustrated than he’d thought humanly possible.
She didn’t reply, stopping only to scoop up the keys she’d dropped when she first entered the room.
He fisted his hands to keep from grabbing her and carrying her back to bed. “If you walk out that door, Brynn,” he warned, his voice harsh and uncompromising, “don’t—”
He stopped, precariously on the verge of saying, Don’t come back to my room unless you’re ready to make love.
As if she heard what he’d left unsaid, she froze on the way to the door and turned a forbidding frown on him. “Don’t…what?”
“Don’t…forget that you…said you were going to think about it—about…finishing what we started.” He forced the impromptu words through a throat severely constricted by pent-up pressure. “So, do that. Think about it.”
She regarded him in clear surprise, then slowly nodded. “I will.” Bowing her head, she hurried out of his room.
Cade released an explosive breath, feeling as if he’d stopped just short of driving blindly off a cliff. He’d come close to giving her the same ultimatum he’d been cursing himself over for nine long years.
At least he’d learned from his mistake.
And that just might have earned him what he now wanted more than anything—one more chance with her.
4
THE FIRST THING BRYNN DID the next morning was to order from a local health-food store a special combination of herbs she’d taken back in college to help stop her sleepwalking. She wasn’t sure if the herbs had worked, but she had eventually stopped the disturbing habit, so it seemed worth taking the concoction again.
She also dug through the crate of papers, letters and mementos she’d kept from her college days until she found the meditation cassettes that might have helped, as well. Again, she wasn’t sure that they had, but they certainly hadn’t hurt.
She then called the nearest security company and ordered a computerized lock for her bedroom door that required fairly complex steps to open. Steps she couldn’t possibly follow in her sleep. Hoping the new lock would keep her in her own bedroom at night, she paid an exorbitant fee to have it installed that day.
At least she would have control of her whereabouts at night. Any amount of money was worth ensuring that.
A workman arrived that morning. As Brynn watched him install the lock, she thought about last night’s debacle. She couldn’t believe she’d gone to Cade’s room, stripped off her gown and climbed into bed with him. As humiliating as that loss of self-control had been, she’d learned something she’d wanted to know. Time had not glorified her memories of Cade. He still kindled an awesome heat in her that no one else ever had.
Should she explore that heat and see how far it could take her toward the bliss she remembered from long ago? Or should she forget about the utterly thrilling moments she’d spent in his bed, and keep him at a distance?
It had taken her years to get over the emotional damage he’d done to her, to forget her feelings for him, to convince herself she was better off without him. Now was not the time to backslide. And after being kissed into a sensual heat that still simmered in her blood, she was afraid she could easily do so.
She wished she didn’t have to see Cade until she had decided what to do. Her duties, however, called for her to put in an appearance at the Friday lunch buffet.
She didn’t stay long. Uncertain about her plans regarding him and feeling guilty for interrupting his sleep, then leaving him unsatisfied, she barely risked a glance at him while she chatted with the other guests. She escaped to her private suite as soon as possible with a sandwich and cup of cappuccino.
That was why she missed his startling revelation about himself, which sent Trish and Lexi scurrying to her sitting room immediately after lunch for an emergency meeting.
“A travel journalist?” Brynn frowned at her business partners as if they’d been lacing their coffee with too much Irish Cream again. “Cade told you he’s a journalist?”
“An author of four travel books.” Trish tossed a business card into Brynn’s lap, on top of a stack of paperwork. Brynn set her work aside, curled her legs beside her on the armchair and read Cade’s card, while Lexi sank down onto the sofa and watched her face for a reaction.
Brynn’s incredulity grew. “I had no idea. Cade majored in criminal justice in college.” She glanced at her friends in wonder. “Who knew that he’d end up a writer?”
“And a photographer,” Lexi said. “He showed me the photos he took of the lakes and rivers around here, and they’re all gorgeous. He’s doing a series of books about his travels through the Southeast.”
Brynn could barely believe it. The Cade she’d known had shown very little interest in writing. “He never mentioned this to me,” she murmured, feeling as if she didn’t know him at all. “He always wanted to be a cop.”
“Guess he came to his senses,” Trish theorized, her eyes brimming with excitement. Brynn hadn’t seen her this interested in anything since their sorority days. “You do realize what this means, don’t you, Brynn?”
“What?”
“If he’s impressed enough with our inn, he’ll put us in his book.”
“He includes all his favorite spots and experiences.” Lexi sounded as excited at the prospect as Trish did. “Restaurants, beaches, parks, gardens…historic inns.”
“I’ve already given him a printout of our inn’s history from the 1870s,” Trish said. “And, of course, he knows that Georgia has the oldest state-chartered university in America.”
“He’s been taking pictures of the house,” Lexi said. “He even had us pose with our guests at breakfast on the sunporch. I made sure he had a menu of my specialties, too, in case he wants to include it in his new book.”
Trish dropped down onto the couch beside Lexi, and they beamed at each other in rare camaraderie. Brynn wasn’t sure why she felt a twinge of foreboding at their excitement.
“Anyway, Brynn,” said Trish, “we felt we’d better talk to you about this so you can change your attitude.”
“My attitude?”
“Toward Cade. We think it’s important that you make him feel at home here. Welcomed. Pampered.”
Brynn stared at her, aghast. Trish had no idea what she was asking.
“He’s really not a bad guy, Brynnie. I know your relationship with him ended badly, and any time you want to talk about that, hon, you know I’m here for you.” Trish paused, looking both sympathetic and avidly curious. She clearly couldn’t remember the details from nine years ago, and Brynn was glad. When she didn’t avail herself of the opportunity to rehash her humiliation and heartbreak, Trish sighed in disappointment and went on. “He’s a paying customer now, and he writes travel books. We have to treat him cordially.”
Brynn wondered if climbing into bed with him last night could be considered cordial. And if he’d add it to his list of favorite experiences. Highly doubtful. She forced back a hysterical giggle. “I thought I was treating him cordially.”
Trish and Lexi exchanged glances. “Mrs. Hornsby told me that you nearly threw him out of the inn yesterday at tea,” Trish said.
“At the time I didn’t know he was a registered guest.”
“And I saw for myself the way you were glaring at him in the foyer before I left for the evening. And today at lunch you greeted everyone except him. It was painfully obvious you were dissing him. I’m sure he was humiliated.”
Although he had sent her a searching stare, he hadn’t looked humiliated at all to Brynn. He’d looked as if he might pull her aside and demand to know if she intended to sleep with him. She’d gathered that from one quick, sidelong glance that had left her uncomfortably warm and shaken. “If I didn’t greet him, it was just an oversight.”
“Oh, come on, Brynn. It’s us you’re talking to,” Lexi chided, propping her sandaled feet with their toe rings and chain anklets on the ottoman of Brynn’s armchair.
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