Читать книгу Chistmas In Manhattan Collection - Алисон Робертс - Страница 34
ОглавлениеCONFUSED, SARAH BLINKED. Tomorrow evening? Shouldn’t he be worried about what she was doing right then? At that moment? In the next fifteen minutes? No, Jude wouldn’t be a fifteen-minute man. He’d be hours and hours.
There went her imagination again. Endless.
“Working,” she answered, thinking he couldn’t really have just asked if she was busy, because she didn’t expect him to want more than just a rumble between his sheets.
Or was that his normal routine? Make the woman think he was interested in more than just one night before luring her into his bed?
Hadn’t he already figured out that she needed no further luring? She was curious and purring for more.
“How about Friday evening?” he asked, his thumb sliding across her cheek. “Are you working then?”
Her forehead scrunched. “No, but—”
“Plans?”
“No, but—” She was going to tell him she didn’t want idle promises of seeing him again. If she agreed. And she would. Why not let a man like Jude introduce her to what all the sex hype was about? Sexual Orgasm for Beginners?
Ha! She’d bet anything he’d move straight into an advanced course. Maybe Advanced Multiple Wows, or something along those lines.
“Would you give me the privilege of taking you to your first Broadway show on Friday evening?”
Their minds clearly on two different subjects, Sarah’s head spun and she frowned at him in bewilderment. “Why would you want to do that?”
Why was he talking about Friday evening when they were in the here and now and his bedroom was only a few feet away?
“I’d like to take you to watch Phantom of the Opera.”
“What? Why?”
“I’d like to fulfill that desire of yours.”
Which was where her brain had been, not on watching a play. But he meant...he was saying...asking...
“As a...” she’d been going to say “friend”, but, whatever they were, they weren’t friends “...neighbor?”
He chuckled. “As someone who’d like to kiss you goodnight again. Soon.”
“Oh.” She bit her lower lip. Part of her wanted to throw caution to the wind and say yes, and to please just go ahead and kiss her again right now, like she’d thought he was going to do. Would that be soon enough? But she wasn’t a throw-caution-to-the-wind kind of girl. She was a logical girl who avoided men like him because they used women. She knew he used women. She saw the parade of usees leaving his apartment the morning after.
She was not a usee. She’d been thinking about becoming one, had even been thinking of using him to give her the pleasure wielded at his fingertips, which would make her a user, too. What she hadn’t been thinking of was going on a date with Jude Davenport.
That terrified her much more than the thought of having sex with him.
Sex was nothing to Jude. Maybe dates weren’t either. But to her, at that moment, dragging him into his bedroom and stripping him naked felt safer than agreeing to a date.
No.
She would not set herself up for that particular disappointment again.
“I can tell you are way over-thinking this,” he pointed out, lifting her chin to where she was looking into his eyes again. “It’s just a date, Sarah.”
Just a date. She hadn’t misread what he’d been offering. Jude wanted to take her on a date. A real date.
“I’m not your type,” she reminded him, positive that agreeing to go with him would be a bad idea, that to do so would be setting herself up for disappointment the way Kenny had never come close to.
What if she grew emotionally attached?
No, she knew better than to do that with a man like Jude. If they went out, it would be because he was tired tonight, but was interested in pursuing the sexual chemistry between them at a later time. On Friday night. Taking her to watch a Broadway show was no big deal to Jude, merely a form of foreplay.
She needed to be careful not to make his offer into more than what it was.
“And I’m not your type,” he countered her response, his eyes full of delicious promise. “So how about you say you’ll go to dinner and to see Phantom of the Opera with me? We will have a good time. I’ll be on my best behavior and give you a night you’ll never forget. I give my word.”
The man could sell sand in the middle of the desert.
“And then what?” she ventured, trying to play out in her mind what would happen after their “date”. “You expect me to sleep with you and then me to sneak out of your apartment the next morning?”
His expression didn’t waver. “I would never ask you to sneak out of my apartment, Sarah.”
Right. He’d just kiss her goodbye, while standing in his doorway with only a towel covering his lean hips, while she craved more of whatever he’d done the night before.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d be the one with no pride, offering to do whatever he wanted for just a little bit more of his delicious body.
She had to put a stop to this. Her sexual need had ebbed a little and she felt stronger, more able to walk away, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.
She went to turn from him, but he stopped her.
“I like you, Sarah,” he told her, his voice clear, sincere, imploring. “I’ve enjoyed tonight more than I’ve enjoyed talking with a woman in a long time. Stop judging me on what you think you know. Pretend you met me for the first time at the hospital today and listen to what your heart is saying right now.”
If she’d met him at the hospital and not had preconceived ideas she might think he was wonderful and not at all like the men her mother had warned her about.
“My heart isn’t saying anything right now.” Okay, so it was beating fast, and a little erratically, but that wasn’t speech.
He put his palm over her heart, as if interpreting an unspoken language.
Beating a lot erratically, she corrected, wondering why his hand on her chest made breathing so difficult.
“Maybe you just aren’t listening closely enough, because I think it is.”
“Don’t use lines on me, Jude Davenport,” she warned, reminding herself not to get caught up in what he was saying. The man was a practiced womanizer. “I’m not one of your women.”
Looking frustrated, he sighed. “How about we go to dinner and the show Friday evening and then just have some fun between now and Christmas? You get to decide how much, or how little, happens between us physically.”
No doubt shock registered in her eyes because his question floored her. That a lot would happen between them physically wasn’t in question. If she spent time with him, she would end up in his bed. She didn’t fool herself otherwise. She didn’t even deny to herself that a big part of her wanted to be in his bed, to know what it felt like to have him give her body pleasure.
“Christmas?” she finally croaked. “Christmas is weeks away. Wouldn’t Thanksgiving make more sense?”
Which almost sounded as if she was considering his outrageous suggestion. She wasn’t, was she?
He shrugged. “Why not Christmas? Thanksgiving is only a few weeks from now. We’ve already admitted that we’re dreading the holidays. Why not spend them together so maybe they won’t be so bad?”
Sarah mentally shook her head. Jude was asking her to date him through Christmas?
Had she passed out in her kitchen from smoke fumes and only dreamed he’d come to rescue her?
That made more sense.
Reality was that she was unconscious, suffering from smoke intoxication, and having one heck of a hallucination.
Either that, or Jude must have enjoyed their kiss.
She had enjoyed their kiss.
Had truly never been kissed that way, had never felt so much passion bubbling within her.
Yep, she must be hallucinating.
She bit the inside of her lip. Ouch. The pain was real. Which meant this was real. That Jude was searching her eyes, looking for an answer.
The truth was that she wanted to know him better, too.
If she said no, she’d only be denying herself. But there was that thing she didn’t really want to think about. Before she could consider agreeing to any of this, she had to address it or else it would be a constant thorn.
“What about the other women?”
“What other women?” He glanced around his living room. “I only see you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m not that shallow, Sarah.”
When she didn’t relent, he sighed. “You want me to sign my name in blood that I won’t see other women?”
“You can do whatever you want. Whoever you want,” she clarified. “Just not on my time. If I agree to this, then I don’t want other women in your apartment.”
Surprisingly, he didn’t tell her she was crazy, that she had no right to make demands. Instead, he regarded her a moment, then asked, “You’ll do the same?”
His question was laughable.
“I don’t have men come and go out of my apartment.”
“You go to their apartments?” he pushed.
“No.”
His brow arched. “You do date?”
Not often. Dating wasn’t high on her list of things to do. Never had been. She’d watched too many women squander their lives away chasing after that elusive “the one”. Most of the time, she was smarter than that.
At the moment she didn’t feel smart. She’d thought Jude wanted to take her to bed and instead he was trying to talk her into agreeing to spend the next several weeks dating him.
A smart woman would have already agreed.
Or was it that a smart woman would have already left his apartment? Or never been there to begin with?
“That guy, the one who stood you up, you have been on a date since that night?”
She winced at the reminder of just how miserable dating gone wrong could make her feel. Instead, she’d cling to how good his kiss had made her feel, to the knowledge that he wanted to kiss her again.
“Occasionally,” she answered, trying to stay focused on their conversation rather than all the things running through her mind. “My priorities haven’t been on how many notches I could put on my bedpost.”
Although she’d been striking out, he didn’t seem offended by her comment.
“What have your priorities been?”
“Not on getting laid.”
“I think it’s safe to say you’ve established that.” His gaze narrowed. “You do think notches are my priority?”
They were talking in circles. She took another step back, determined she was going to make her way to her apartment.
“I don’t know you well enough to know your priorities.”
“Which I plan to remedy,” he countered.
Flustered, she put her hands on her hips and glared. “You seriously want to take me to a Broadway show? To date me, just me, through Christmas?”
Eyes glimmering, he grinned. “Absolutely.”
She had to say yes, didn’t she? Only a fool would say no to what he was offering. As long as she stayed focused on the facts, that they weren’t in a real relationship but a temporary one, that she didn’t want a real relationship any more than he did, everything would be fine.
She met his gaze and even before she said a single word, victory shone in his eyes.
“You know if you stand me up I’ll put cockroaches under your apartment door,” she warned.
Not looking worried, he grinned. “Cockroaches?”
“Or worse.”
Rather than say something teasing back, he cupped her cheek. “I won’t stand you up, Sarah. But I’m glad to hear that you refuse to let any man, myself included, treat you shabbily.” His hold tightened ever so slightly. “Make sure you don’t stand me up.”
As if.
* * *
The emergency room had been busy. Busy enough that Sarah hadn’t been able to dwell on her date with Jude the following night.
Not so busy that she hadn’t paused outside her apartment to stare at his closed door that morning.
Not so busy that she hadn’t answered his text messages saying good morning, then telling her to have a good afternoon, then messaging her that he’d been called in to the station that night but looked forward to seeing her the following evening.
He really planned to take her out.
If he stood her up, she’d be devastated. As much as she hated to admit that truth, she acknowledged it. Wasn’t that why she’d never let a man pick her up at her new apartment? Because she didn’t want her beloved home tainted by painful memories of being stood up?
Yet she’d agreed to go out with Jude.
Which meant she needed to figure out what she was going to wear.
Typically she dressed to avoid attracting any type of attention from the opposite sex. Doing so had just made life easier through med school and as an emergency room physician. Trying to appear attractive garnered attention she didn’t want, hence the thick glasses sitting on her face that weren’t prescription but that she wore any time she left her house.
Camouflage? Or self-defense?
While typing up the report on the last patient she’d seen, for a kidney stone, she mentally ran through the items in her closet.
Nothing there suitable for a dinner and show with Jude Davenport.
Unless she wanted to put on the dress she’d worn the night Kenny had been a no-show. Not going to happen.
She wasn’t much of a shopper, but she supposed she could search tomorrow to find something. Not on Fifth Avenue, where most of Jude’s dates probably shopped, but surely she could find something decent at an upscale department store or second-hand shop?
Maybe she’d even stop by the make-up counter and have her face done while there.
Or maybe she was being ridiculous in considering trying to spiff herself up to impress Jude. If she spiffed non-stop between now and tomorrow evening, she’d never rival the beauties she’d seen leaving his apartment.
Plus, the last time she’d spiffed up had gone horribly wrong and had ended with her looking like a raccoon from the tears she’d cried when she’d called Kenny and realized he’d forgotten he’d asked her out...and was out on a date with someone else. She’d not bothered to tell Jude that part. Why humiliate herself even further than she already had?
She finished up her notes on the patients she’d cared for during her shift, then logged off the computer system.
“You heading out?” her friend Shelley asked.
Sarah stood, stretching her spine. “Yes. Today wasn’t as bad as yesterday, thank goodness, but it’s definitely been another long one.”
“Speaking of yesterday, how’s the little girl? The one rescued by that hunky firefighter who saved her life and made me want to take him home to give him some tender loving care and a good scrub down.”
Sarah’s cheeks flamed at Shelley’s mention of Jude. He’d been the one to give her the tender loving care, along with a delicious meal. No scrub down. They’d both already showered by the time she’d set off her alarm.
“Keeley’s good,” she said, thinking of the little girl she’d checked on several times throughout her shift. She’d even gotten permission from Keeley’s mother to text Jude to let him know about the child. “She recovered consciousness this evening. Hopefully, she’ll be weaned off the vent before the night is through.”
Sarah spoke with her friend a few more minutes, considered mentioning that she had a date with the hunky firefighter, but decided not to. They hadn’t actually gone on a date so she shouldn’t jump the gun, just in case.
Not that she thought Jude would stand her up. With her history, she should be terrified he would change his mind, that he’d find some excuse to cancel their date. There was a tiny part of her that acknowledged the possibility, but her gut instinct was that he wouldn’t do that. Something about him exuded honor and integrity.
Which was ridiculous when she knew he was a scoundrel when it came to women.
But if she didn’t live next door to him, if she hadn’t seen the plethora of women parading in and out of his apartment, if they really had met yesterday at the hospital, she’d have thought him a really great guy. A hero kind of guy.
Which might be testament to how foolish she was being over the man.
She was still thinking about Jude when she said hi to their apartment building doorman, while she rode the elevator up to their floor, when she stepped out of the elevator and made her way down the corridor. She’d not taken but a few steps when she noticed the large, brightly wrapped box with a huge gold bow propped against her apartment door.
A present?
She didn’t have to wonder from who, because there could only be one person who’d do such a thing.
