Could he keep it casual? Because he wasn’t sure he could turn a blind eye to instinct, ignore the steadfast urge to protect himself from Fontana.
Not to mention dealing with this newfound feeling of wanting to protecther.
Jesus, was he cracked?
He hadn’t been this consumed, this tormented, since—well, since never.
An alarmingly vivid, painter-pant-and-ponytail picture of Fontana popped into his mind, tensing every muscle in his body. The attendant thrum of excitement rocked him, strong enough to have him palming the side of his car. He could have sworn he smelled honeysuckle, a plant that wouldn’t bloom again until April.
Campbell shook his head in futile denial.
Fuck it, hewasnuts.
He was also whistling when he gunned the engine and tore out of the parking lot.
chapter
nine
Save a Prayer–Duran Duran
FONTANA
Fontana went about relievingher afternoon of humiliation with a bottle of Jaime’s best Cabernet.
“Take a deep breath, swirl the wine in your mouth, then swallow.” Jaime tapped his glass against his teeth, humming the tune toAmerican Pie. “Settles the flavor on your tongue, doesn’t it? Light as a lover’s kiss. The teasing brush of a butterfly’s wings.”
Drawing the requested air into her lungs, she let the wine trickle down her throat in a deliciously languid stream. “Umm…that’s almost as lovely as your poetry.”
“Another.”
She rolled her head to the side, realized how lopsided her grin was and tried again. Smoother this time. More composed. A woman in control, not one who’d spent the afternoon unraveling in front of a man who—damn it—had unraveled her even more. “Jame, you don’t have to encourage me.We’ve accomplished our mission. I’m feeling no pain, having no worries.”
“Enough to forget what happened earlier today? You’ve only had one glass.”
Sagging against the pillows they’d spread across the floor, she nudged the pizza box with her foot and balanced her glass on her stomach. The look on Campbell’s face, staring at her through the foggy mist, came flooding back. Regret and hunger, those she could live with. They at least proved he wanted her. Butpity? The way his eyes had strayed to her leg?—
She drained her glass, sputtering when the liquid went down the wrong pipe.
Propping himself on his elbow, Jaime thumped her back. “I thought not.”
She slid lower, until her butt popped off the pillow and onto hard pine. A spank she had more than earned. “He thinks I’m some”—she coughed—“damaged woman in need of repair. Someone too…”
Complicated.She couldn’t even repeat the word to her best friend; it was too pathetic.
“You should have seen the way he looked at me. I’ve never been as mortified and mad and, oh crap, I don’t even know how to explain how awful it felt. Your fault anyway for putting ideas into my head.Sex without strings, my ass!”
“Why didn’t you tell him, Tana? If he has the wrong idea?”
She laughed, rubbing her eyes until bright color burst behind her lids. “I thought the first precept of the pleasure principle was to leave out personal information. Last name if possible. Address and phone number at all costs.”
“I think I gave you faulty advice.” He sighed, knocking his leg against hers. “How could I have known? In my mind, you’re in a lucky position when youhonestlywant sex and nothing more. However, my darling, this is positively anothercase. Something’s going on between you andKissableTrue, or he never would have declined your offer.”
“My limp?—”
“Pish-posh.” Jaime pried her hands from her face, his smile angelic innocence. “Some trifling hitch in a beautiful woman’s step isn’t going to throw a hungry man off the treasure trail. Saints and garlands, one hardly notices it. He probably thinks you were injured playing softball in high school. The man’s scared of something else.”
“No, it’s more. You see...I didn’t tell him about my past, but I did. In a way.”
