Читать книгу Remember Me - Laura Browning - Страница 6

Chapter 3

Lucy watched him retreat. Drooled, more like it. He might have been a businessman, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Broad, muscular shoulders tapered to a tight ass that made her want to grab it with both hands. Below were long, very muscular thighs and calves, due no doubt to the competitive skiing. She realized she was still wearing her bra and panties—well, sort of. Both were twisted to one side so they no longer served their intended purpose. With that in mind, she stripped them off. She stood, kicked off her high heels and put one foot on the arm of the couch so she could take off her stockings.

Hearing Brandon behind her, Lucy glanced over her shoulder. His eyes were wide and focused on her ass. He held a blanket in front of him, but from what she could see, he was still as naked as when he’d left.

“I brought you a blanket.” His voice sounded strained.

Lucy removed the other stocking and turned to face him. She was not self-conscious about her looks. How could she be when she spent three to four nights a week taking her clothes off in front of a crowd? His discomfort made her uneasy.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, hearing the slight hesitation in her voice.

Maybe she had been too aggressive. Men like him wanted to be in charge, but she had been so hot for him, she’d scared him off. Her lower lip started to tremble, so she clamped down on it with her teeth, but there was nothing she could do to hide the tears welling in her eyes, and she wasn’t used to them. She never cried, so why now?

Swallowing around the tightness in her throat, she ventured, “Did…did I do something wrong?”

And the first tear fell. Even through the blur she could see the horrified expression now on Brandon’s face. She should have known better. My God, Edward had always been so stiff-upper-lip and concerned about what would keep up appearances. Now here she was in this classy guy’s suite, crying like a baby after jumping his bones like some cheap hooker. Lucy spun and grabbed her dress. Without bothering to put on either bra or panties, she started to pull it over head.

“What are you doing?” Brandon growled.

“Leaving.”

“Why?” He tossed the blanket on the couch and grabbed her shoulders. “I know it wasn’t very good for you, but I promise…”

Lucy wiped her eyes and stared at him. “Not good? I jumped all over you, and then before you even got started I came and you came…and it’s my fault.”

Brandon pulled her to him, crushing her hands between them and smashing her cheek against his chest. “It was me. I rushed you. I’ve never felt this tied in knots. It’s been like this from the moment I first saw you. Please, Lucy. Don’t leave like this.”

“You want me to stay?”

He pressed her hips into his heavy erection. “Does this feel like I don’t? Come on, baby. Sit on the couch with me. Talk to me. Okay?”

She nodded.

* * * *

Brandon grabbed his boxers and pulled them on. They did little to hide his aching dick, but at least he wouldn’t be all out there in front of her. God almighty. He’d been so bad, he’d made her cry. So now he felt like complete and total shit. And he’d had the nerve not so long ago to shake his head at the way his older brother had fucked things up with his woman. His woman. Was that how he already thought of Lucy?

A sidelong glance showed Lucy dabbing at her eyes with the corner of the blanket. He stroked her cheek and her hair.

“You look fine,” he reassured her. “Look, what’s a little mascara between us? I’ve got sisters, so I’m used to it, though I have to admit, I don’t think I’ve ever made a woman cry with my ineptitude as a lover. Tonight’s just full of firsts for me.” Yeah, like beginning to think he was in love with a woman he hadn’t even known forty-eight hours. And how crazy was that?

“I don’t normally cry,” she admitted in a near whisper. “I’m sorry.”

Brandon rubbed his cheek, still smooth since he’d shaved again before picking her up for dinner. “Look, Lucy. Can we start this again? I think we both got off on the wrong foot. I don’t know about you, but I was so damn hot for you, I couldn’t think of anything other than being inside you, getting skin to skin as close as I could.”

“I felt the same way. I’m sorry I was all over you.”

A weight lifted off him. “You all over me was great,” he admitted with a rueful chuckle. “When you touched me… Wow. You set me on fire.”

She let the blanket drop. “You’re not upset because I practically attacked you?”

“No. In fact, if you’d like to try it again… Shit. Scratch that.” Brandon hadn’t felt this awkward since high school. “I mean, I’d like us to try again, but slower. Damn it, Lucy, I feel like I just took a fine wine and chugged the bottle instead of savoring the bouquet. I want to savor you because you’re worth it.” Oh hell, her eyes were welling again. “Don’t cry on me again. Please!”

Between hiccups she smiled a watery smile at him. “These are happy tears. I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore, that I’d come on too strong.”

He took his thumbs and wiped off the moisture beneath her eyes. “No way, baby. It was hot. Look, why don’t we put some clothes on and get a snack.”

“I’ve got my dress…”

“I don’t mean time-for-you-to-leave clothes. I’ll let you borrow a shirt. We’ll raid the mini-fridge Matt stocked and we can talk while we eat.”

A few minutes later, he was sure he’d never seen anything lovelier than Lucy wearing his Nationals sweatshirt and a pair of his boxers. With her long, golden hair hanging loose and the makeup scrubbed off her face, she looked as yummy as an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. And, damn, wouldn’t he just like to lick her all over. Instead, he was scrounging around in a fridge, pulling out cheese, Cokes, and then finding crackers in a cabinet over the mini-bar.

“Mind sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace?”

She grinned at him. “Not if you don’t mind me toasting my toes on the hearth.”

He glanced at the toes in question. Hell, even her feet were sexy, slender and fine-boned, her toes painted a bright coral. They lounged in front of the fire, nibbling on cheese and crackers and sipping soft drinks. If anyone of his acquaintance had seen him right now, they would have laughed their asses off. Brandon Barlow-Barrett, known for his reputation as a flashy dresser and host, was entertaining a beautiful woman—admittedly, one dressed in his boxers and sweatshirt—while he lounged in a pair of flannel sleep pants and a t-shirt. After stroking a finger down her nose, he laughed, feeling freer than he had in a while.

“What’s so funny?”

“The fact I have a beautiful woman sitting in my suite while I’m on vacation, and we’re camped out in front of the fire eating cheese and crackers and drinking Cokes.”

Lucy raised her brows. “You mean instead of being in your bed having wild monkey sex?”

He laughed. “Well, yeah. And, you know, I think I like you in my clothes.”

She picked at the sweatshirt with her thumb and forefinger. “This old thing?”

He liked how she had relaxed. It made him feel better about being such an idiot earlier. “I like you having something against your skin that I’ve had against mine.” Her smile faded, and he continued in a soft tone, “That doesn’t freak you out, does it?”

“No.” She touched his cheek. “It makes me feel…I don’t know…like I matter.”

It was an odd comment because he got the feeling she wasn’t just talking about mattering to him. She meant mattering to anyone. As if there might be no one in the world who cared whether she existed or not. Brandon tucked her hair behind her ear. “You matter.”

The atmosphere had gotten thick again, and he needed to ease the tension. Neither one of them were quite ready for the heat level between them. It was too much, too soon, and he needed to know her better—that is, if she would even talk to him tomorrow after the way he’d fucked up tonight. Picking up a piece of cheese, he slipped it between her lips. “Here. Eat more. In my official capacity as head of the Lucy Matters Club, I must make sure you eat enough.”

She chewed and swallowed. “You’re different.”

“My family says the same thing, most often with a great deal of exasperation.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, I mean from other men who ask me out. You see me.”

He arched a brow. “See you? What do you mean?”

She shifted so she was sitting staring into the fire with her back half-turned toward him. “I mean, see more than the hair and the body. You see a person.”

Brandon blinked, his chest aching at her tone. “I’m glad you feel that way because you would have every right to look at me like I’m just another shallow prick.”

She angled her head so she could look at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were dark, assessing. “You are so far from that.” She grinned at him, crossing her legs Indian-style. “Tell me about your family. Are you from around the capital?”

“Northern Virginia.” He didn’t want to go into detail about the estate, complete with butler. “My parents live out in the country. Only my youngest sister, Morgan, is at home anymore. She’s in college.”

“You have more sisters?”

“Two others, both younger. Also two brothers—one older, one younger. Six kids total. What about you?”

Lucy shook her head. “I don’t have any family left. My parents died when I was very young and my grandmother raised me.”

“And she died?”

Lucy nodded, her gaze focused on the flames in the fireplace. “When I was twelve. She had a massive stroke. Although she didn’t die right away, it felt like it to me. She was gone from the house. And with her gone, I had to go too.”

“Go where?” Brandon asked, but he already had some idea.

“Foster homes. I was already in my second by the time Gram did die.”

He wanted to offer comfort, something not in his nature, or it hadn’t been until now. Feeling a little off balance, Brandon stroked her hair away from the side of her neck, traced his finger from there to her shoulder and squeezed. “How many were there?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Too many. I learned to make myself almost invisible.”

And he could read between the lines. Disappearing had been impossible. Brandon could imagine what she must have been like as a teenager. Beautiful and no doubt sheltered if she’d been raised by a grandmother, a perfect victim for any unscrupulous male. He cleared his throat. “Were you hurt?”

She shook her head. “Not really. There were some who tried, but I managed to evade them. I spent all the time I could at school or the library studying. I wanted to go to college because the academics were the only thing I had going for me. I had to get loans, but I did it.”

Brandon thought of his Ivy League education, paid for from the Barlow-Barrett coffers. “What did you major in?” Maybe he’d get an inkling of what she did for a living.

“Art history. In fact, I have a masters degree. I guess it’s about as useful as a philosophy degree. But I’ve managed to make a living.” She sat without saying anything for a moment, staring into the flames. “This has been nice, Brandon, but I should probably go.”

He scooted behind her and rubbed some of the tension from her shoulders. “You know, I’d love to have you stay, to give you a better idea of how it could be between the two of us. But I also want you to know that’s not the only thing I want, so, yeah. Why don’t we get dressed and I’ll walk you to your room.”

“You don’t have to. I’m a big girl.”

He arched a brow. “My mother would disown me if I allowed a date to go home without an escort.” He helped her to her feet. “Will you ski with me again in the morning?”

Lucy looked surprised. “You don’t have to do that either. Now I have an idea of what I’m doing, I can go on my own and not hold you back.”

He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I want to ski with you. Part of the fun is sharing it. We’ll make a day of it. Lunch here again and then we’ll head into town tomorrow afternoon and look around some of the shops. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“All right, but if you change your mind and decide you don’t want to ski with a newbie, my feelings won’t be hurt.”

The skiing wasn’t what it was about, but he couldn’t tell her. He wanted to spend time with her, whenever and however he could, because he was determined this would be more than just a vacation flirtation. “I won’t change my mind.” He handed her clothing to her. “The bathroom’s the first door on the left if you’d like some privacy.”

“Thank you, Brandon.” She grinned at him. “Your mother would be proud of your manners.”

He laughed. “Right.”

* * * *

Lucy stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was a mess, her makeup a wreck, and she felt better than she had in ages. Maybe it was the faded Nationals sweatshirt, or the boxers hanging on her hips. She picked up the sweatshirt and brought it to her nose. She smelled his aftershave and the warm, male scent that was his alone. Would he laugh if she asked to keep it?

Get over it, Lucy. What was she doing? Brandon was out of her league, an older, more mature version of Edward Montgomery. But damn it, he wanted to be with her, so at least for this week, she would enjoy every minute of it. There would be plenty of time to disappear into her own world.

Attitude in place, she stripped off her borrowed clothes and put hers on with the speed of someone accustomed to making quick costume changes. She did that very thing several times a night when she was working. After wiping the dark circles from beneath her eyes and attempting to tidy her hair, Lucy returned to the great room to find Brandon standing near the gas logs. He was in his slacks, dress shirt and suit coat. He looked rumpled and sexy enough that she wanted to strip him naked again.

“You’re missing a few buttons,” she murmured.

One golden brow arched. “I’m not planning on letting anyone else close enough to figure that out.” He smiled. “Come on, baby, let me walk you to your room. I’ll even be a gentleman and just give you a kiss good night—the way our first date probably should have ended.”

“First date. So there will be a second?”

He picked up her wool jacket from the back of the couch and slipped it around her shoulders. “As many as we can fit in, and more if you’ll let me.”

Lucy had to ignore that. She couldn’t think beyond this week right now. She’d been down the same road and knew disappointment lay at its end. So she smiled at him instead. “Walk me to my room.”

He took her arm and tucked it through his. They had to walk outside for a few yards, but then they were inside the main lodge. The night clerk gave them a nod, but otherwise the halls were empty. Lucy wasn’t sure how late it was. She didn’t feel tired, no doubt because of the company and the attraction. When they reached her door, she dug in her pocket for her key card. Brandon took it from her and slipped it into the lock. Once the door was open, he scanned the room.

“You take this escorting me home with more seriousness than I’ve ever encountered.”

He leaned against the door jamb. “No sense being careless.” He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her close. “Come here. Let me give you a good night kiss.”

It felt right, being pressed close, feeling his arms surround her. The kiss started off a gentle brushing of lips, but the heat was there, and building. When his tongue touched her lips, she parted them, welcoming him. Her arms twined around his neck.

“We’ve been here before,” he whispered, his lips brushing her mouth. “I should stop. Tell me to stop.”

“You should stop,” she whispered back.

He cupped her face with his hands, kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll get some breakfast first, ’kay?”

She nodded. He tucked her inside the room and closed the door. Lucy leaned against the wall and stared at it. God. She knew better. She really did. So why was she letting herself fall for him?

* * * *

Brandon stared at the closed door, his body aching. He was not where he wanted to be. Right now, all he wanted was to be on the other side of the door, taking Lucy’s clothes off, laying her on the wide bed he’d glimpsed and covering her body with his. He would ease the ache between her thighs, worship her body with his and show her what it could be like between them. There would be no rush, no hurried, desperate coupling like he’d subjected her to earlier.

He was amazed she was still speaking to him, let alone that she’d agreed to ski with him again, to see him again. He closed his eyes. She’d felt so wonderful wrapped around him… Brandon pushed away from the wall, forcing himself to go to his suite before he did something foolish, like break down her damn door.