Читать книгу Too Much Temptation - Lori Foster - Страница 7

Noah Harper stood frozen in the carpeted hallway of his fiancée’s house while his skin prickled with some vague, unsettling emotion. It wasn’t really anger or grief. It sure as hell wasn’t jealousy.

If Noah hadn’t known better, he might have sworn it was…relief. He shook his head at the thought. No, he’d wanted to marry Kara. He’d accepted it as his fate and even viewed it as part of a grand plan for the future. Not really his grand plan, but then, he didn’t think in grand terms. His grandmother did.

Noah liked Kara, respected her and her parents, and his grandmother adored her. Almost from the time he’d met Kara, everyone had assumed they’d eventually marry. In one month, they would have.

But now…

Without a conscious decision, Noah moved toward the obvious sounds of soft moans, low encouragement, and rustling sheets. He wasn’t in any particular hurry, because he already knew what he’d find.

He was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Oh, Kara was in bed all right, doing exactly what he’d suspected she was doing: having very passionate sex, when all he ever got from her was perfunctory attendance. It was her partner who was so unexpected.

Not that it really mattered.

Noah’s eyes narrowed as Kara gave a particularly ardent moan and bowed her slender body in a violent climax. He watched, unmoved.

Faced with such a bizarre circumstance, Noah pondered what to do, and settled on propping one shoulder on the door frame, crossing his arms, and waiting. Surely he’d be noticed soon enough, and at the moment, his territorial nature rejected the idea of offering them privacy. After all, Kara was his fiancée—or rather, she had been.

That had all changed now.

Her skin dewy from exertion, her eyes dazed and soft in a way Noah had never experienced, Kara leaned back and sighed. “Oh God, that was incredible.”

“Mmm,” came the husky, satisfied reply. “I can give you more.”

Looking scandalized and anxious, Kara purred, “Yes?” and came up on one elbow to smile at her lover.

That’s when she noticed Noah.

Kara’s beautiful face paled and her kiss-swollen lips opened in a shocked, horrified oh. Her lover, with his dark eyes glittering and bold, lounged back in antagonistic silence.

Amazingly enough, Kara snatched up the sheet to conceal her body…from Noah.

Noah shook his head in disgust—most of it self-directed. He’d been a royal fool. He’d treated her gently, with deference, with patience. And she’d cheated on him.

“Don’t faint, Kara. I’m not going to cause a scene.” Noah didn’t even bother to glance at the other man—there was no challenge there.

Instead, Noah lent all his attention to the woman he’d expected to be his wife. “Under the circumstances, I’m sure you’ll agree the wedding is off.”

Kara gasped in panic. Having said his piece, Noah turned on his heel to stalk away. He was aware of the race of his pulse, the pounding of determination that surged in his blood. It wouldn’t be pleasant, ending elaborate plans already in progress. The upper society of Gillespe, Kentucky, was about to be rocked by a bit of a surprise.

Kara’s parents, Hillary and Jorge, had gone all out on preparations for the celebration. They’d rented an enormous hall and purchased a wedding gown that had cost more than many houses. Guests were invited from around the country, and all of Gillespe was aware of the impending nuptials.

His grandmother…God, Noah didn’t even want to think about Agatha’s reaction. She fancied herself a leader of the community, and she was tight with Hillary and Jorge, treating them like relatives as well as her dearest friends. In many ways, she already thought of Kara as her own.

Noah bounded down the spiraling carpeted stairs two at a time, anxious to get away from the house so his mind could quit churning and settle on a course of action. He’d learned at an early age, while being shuffled from one foster home to another, to make cool, calculated decisions and then to analyze the repercussions so that nothing could ever again take him by surprise.

This time, he had few choices, so his decisions were easy. He wouldn’t marry Kara now, but at the same time, he hated to disappoint his grandmother.

He’d just started to pull the front door open when a small hand grabbed his upper arm. “Noah!”

Damn. He’d really hoped to avoid this confrontation. He sighed and turned.

Kara stared up at him with wet eyes and a trembling mouth. Her fair skin blanched whiter than usual, with none of the rosy glow he’d grown used to. She wore only a hastily tied robe that emphasized the swells and hollows of her body—a body he’d once thought very sexy. Her short golden brown hair was becomingly tousled and as Noah watched, she released him and ran a shaking hand over her forehead, pushing her wispy bangs aside.

Her shoulders slumped and she looked down at her bare feet. “I’m sorry.”

A cynical smile curled Noah’s mouth. He could just imagine how sorry Kara felt right now. How could he ever have considered making her his wife? “Sorry you were caught?”

She clasped her hands together. “There’s more than just our wedding at stake, Noah, you know that. My parents…” She shuddered. “Oh God, I can’t imagine how they’ll react. Everyone has been planning for us to marry for so long.”

Noah snorted. “Your folks accepted me, Kara, mostly out of respect for my grandmother. I doubt they’ll be brokenhearted not to have me in the family. There’re plenty of other guys they’d rather you marry and we both know it.”

“They love Agatha.” Kara looked at him, her expression fierce. “I love Agatha.”

At least that much was true, Noah decided. “Yeah, my grandmother loves you, too.” Much more than she’ll ever care about me. “You’re the daughter she never had, the granddaughter she wants, the female relative to fill all the slots. She dotes on you, and I doubt that’ll change.”

Kara swallowed hard. “This will kill her.”

The laugh took him by surprise. “Kill Agatha? She’ll outlive us all.”

“Noah, please, don’t do this.”

“This?”

Big tears ran down her cheeks and she quivered all over, truly beside herself, pleading. Why the hell did women always resort to tears to get their way?

“Please don’t ruin me. Don’t ruin my family. I can’t bear the thought of everyone—”

Realization dawned, and with it, a heavy dose of disgust. Didn’t Kara know him at all?

Noah looked at her sad, panicked eyes and accepted that no, she didn’t. She’d have married him, but she didn’t really know him.

Just as she’d never really wanted him.

He said, “Hey,” very softly, and watched her try to gather herself. Any second now he’d have a hysterical woman on his hands.

Looking at it from her perspective, now knowing what she expected of him, Noah could understand why.

Feeling a surge of compassion, Noah took her delicate hands in his. “Listen to me, Kara. The wedding is off; there’s no changing that. But why we ended it is no one’s business but our own, all right?”

Her mouth opened and she gulped air. She wiped her eyes on her shoulder, sniffed loudly. “You mean that? You really mean that?”

Hell, he was used to worse hardships than censure. Kara had led a pampered life protected from ugliness, never forced to face the harsh realities life often dealt.

Noah had learned to survive almost as a toddler. He could shoulder the heat much more easily than she. “Yeah, why not?” Then he added, “I’ll break the news to everyone if you want.”

She pulled her hands free and searched in her pocket for a tissue. “I don’t believe you.” A shaky laugh trickled out. “You’re too damn good, Noah Harper.”

Now there was a joke. “No, I just don’t relish being humiliated either.”

Rather than make her laugh, she covered her face and sobbed. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“We were obviously never meant to marry, babe, you know that.” It was Noah’s turn to glance up the stairs, but her lover wisely stayed out of his sight. Noah shook his head, still bemused by her choice. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She threw herself into his arms, leaving him to awkwardly deal with her gratitude. Noah wanted only to escape. Even at the best of times, he’d never totally felt at ease with Kara. She was too refined, too polished and proper—the opposite of him.

Noah set her aside and said, “Maybe you should think about a quick trip, until you have time to figure out what you want to say. I’ll wait to tell Agatha until tomorrow, to give you time to get away.”

She managed a pathetic smile. “Thank you, Noah. Really.”

Kara had just saved him from making a horrible mistake. Though he felt like thanking her right back, Noah merely nodded and walked out. For more than the obvious reason waiting upstairs, tying himself to Kara would have been a disaster.

For one thing, he didn’t love her. If he had, he wouldn’t be so easy right now. He should have realized that sooner.

As he went down the walk, he felt the sun on his face, the chill of a late spring breeze, the freshness of the day—but he didn’t feel hurt or heartsick. He felt no real sense of loss.

For another thing, sex with Kara had offered no more than base physical release. She’d never blown his mind, never burned him up. During their engagement, he’d been faithful, and he’d made do with the few quick, passionless screws he’d gotten from her.

But God, he missed the burning satisfaction of hot, sweaty, grinding sex. He missed the bite of a woman’s nails, her teeth, when she felt too much pleasure to be gentle. He missed the clasp of sleek thighs wrapped around his waist and the softer, hungrier clasp of a woman’s body on his cock. He missed the throaty, raw groans during a woman’s climax.

He missed the wetness.

Kara had been a lady through and through, even while under him. Ha! He was a blind fool. A lucky blind fool, because now he was free.

It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d deal with the families and the gossip sure to arise—and then he’d find himself a wild woman, a woman who matched him in every way. He’d ride her hard until he’d worked off every ounce of tension. Then he’d be the one to leave her.

Noah’s last thought as he drove away from his ex-fiancée’s house was that he could hardly wait.

Grace was so furious with herself, she felt like spitting. The near-torrential rainfall didn’t slow her down as she splashed her way up the sidewalk to Noah’s building, her every step punctuated by a passionate rage. Eight days. Eight hellish days she’d been away, probably when Noah had needed her most. She’d expected to come home to a list of things yet to be done for the wedding, because Agatha did love to give her lists.

Instead, she’d come home to the tail end of an uproar.

She swiped away a tear of fury that mingled with the rain dripping down her cheek. It was always that way. Hurt her, insult her, and she was fine. She’d summon up calm dignity and deal with it. But let her get really mad and look out—she cried like a baby.

Damn her car for breaking down, damn Agatha for being a hardheaded matriarch, and damn everyone for ever doubting him.

Poor Noah. Poor honorable, loyal Noah.

He needed her.

Spurred on by her convictions, Grace hurried on. She slipped as she jerked the foyer door open and bounded inside onto slick marble tile. She’d have landed on her well-padded behind if it weren’t for Graham, the doorman, catching her arm and wrestling her upright.

“Here now!” Graham said with some surprise, maintaining his hold on her arm as Grace started to dart past.

It took him a moment to recognize her with her hair hanging in long, sodden ropes in her face and her clothes saturated through and through, making them baggier than usual. When he did recognize her, his old eyes widened.

“Ms. Jenkins! What in the world are you doing out in this storm?”

Grace forced herself to slow down. “Sorry, Graham. Is Noah in?”

“Yes, ma’am. He’s with his brother.”

Thank God. Grace would rather have had her visit with Noah in private, without Ben as an audience, but at least Noah was home. Besides, she should have known Ben would be close at hand. He very much respected his brother, and always offered unconditional support.

Grace was relieved that Noah hadn’t been all alone during the ordeal.

“My stupid car broke down a few blocks from here,” she told Graham. “I’ll call triple A from Noah’s.”

“Should I announce you?”

Noah had a standing rule that his family was always welcome. Grace was in no way a blood relative, but as his grandmother’s personal secretary, Noah granted her the same importance. She’d known Noah for three years. She’d loved him just about that long.

Not that she would ever tell anyone, especially not Noah.

“No, I’ll go on up. But thanks.”

The doorman shook his head as she turned away, probably thinking she had less sense than a turkey to go running through the stormy weather. But she simply hadn’t possessed the patience to wait in her car for a cab. A little rain wouldn’t melt her, and since hearing what Agatha had done yesterday, how she’d treated Noah because of the breakup, Grace had been filled with a driving urgency to reach him, to let him know that at least one person still…what? Still believed in him, still trusted in his innate honor?

The elevator moved so slowly, Grace couldn’t stop tapping her foot, which jiggled drips of rainwater from her body onto the elevator floor. She now stood in a puddle.

The second the doors opened, she leaped out, then had to leap back in when she realized it was the wrong floor. The woman getting on the elevator gave her a funny look but said nothing, even when she had to step around the soggy carpeting.

Grace chewed her thumbnail. It was a disgusting habit—as Agatha had often told her—but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

This time she checked the floor before getting off. Every step she took caused her feet to squish inside her pumps and left damp tracks across the carpeting. When she reached Noah’s door, she drew a deep breath to fortify herself, pushed her long, wet hair behind her ears, and rapped sharply.

Nothing.

She knocked again, and even pushed the doorbell a few times, but still there was no answer. Refusing to give up, Grace tried the door and found it unlocked. She crept inside, calling out, “Noah?” but no one answered. And then she heard voices coming from the balcony.

Grace hurried through the apartment, noticing empty beer bottles everywhere, as well as pizza boxes and chip bags thrown about. A mostly empty, dried-up container of sour-cream-and-chive dip was half tucked into the sofa cushions.

The cleaning lady would have a fit.

Grace wondered if Noah had thrown a party, if he had actually celebrated the breakup. It seemed unlikely. For many years now everyone had expected him and Kara to marry and then be blissfully happy in their picture-perfect lives. The breakup had naturally thrown everyone for a loop, Grace especially.

She finally located him.

Noah sat on the covered balcony with his brother, and together they made such an impressive sight they stole Grace’s breath. Oh boy, there were some outstanding genes running through those two. No wonder Agatha had put her pride aside and sought out her deceased son’s illegitimate offspring. Noah was a man to make anyone proud.

The two brothers were talking, oblivious to Grace’s presence, and she studied them. Their large, bare feet were propped on the edge of the railing, getting rained on. Both of them lounged back in chairs, Ben with his tilted on its back legs.

Noah had a long-necked bottle of beer dangling between his fingers, his other hand resting limply on his hard abdomen. He wore faded jeans, a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off, and nothing else. His silky, coal-black hair was rumpled, his face shadowed with beard stubble. His entire body bespoke weariness.

He was the sexiest, most appealing man she’d ever known.

Even from where Grace stood, she could see the lush length of Noah’s sooty lashes, sinfully long, too extravagant for a man. They lent a striking contrast to an otherwise hard-edged presence.

Grace sighed.

“To hell with all of ’em,” Ben said. His words were slurred and thick and angry.

Grace tucked in her chin. Uh-oh. Ben sounded…drunk. Really drunk.

Like Noah, he seldom imbibed, so this must be a…commiseration-drinking binge? She didn’t really know men well enough to know what their habits might be, but it seemed feasible.

She looked behind her, and this time counted the empty beer bottles littering the apartment. Oh Lord! They must have been at it since last night. Had Noah contacted Ben directly after leaving Agatha’s? Had they been drinking ever since?

Wide-eyed, Grace turned back to the brothers.

Noah’s voice, too, sounded slurred when he said, “It took them all by surprise, that’s all.”

“Yeah, so they jump to the conclusion that you’re a heartbreaker. The asses.”

“Heartbreaker?” Noah made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, wasn’t quite a curse. “Oh, they had better descriptions than that, believe me. You’d think I jilted her at the altar the way they went on.”

Grace swallowed her choking pain and renewed annoyance. Agatha had told her all about the awful meeting, with Noah summoned to her house to face Kara, along with her mother and father and Agatha herself. He’d stood alone against them, bearing their insults and their blame without defending himself—the same way he’d faced the world most of his life.

They’d jointly called him to account, and when Noah had refused to explain why he’d ended the engagement, Agatha had threatened to disown him.

No. Grace curled her arms around the ache in her stomach, the pain in her heart. She would never let that happen. Noah was a part of the family now, and he’d damn well stay a part. She’d make Agatha relent. As her personal secretary, she carried some clout.

At least she hoped she did.

“Situations like this,” Ben explained, waving his beer for emphasis, “are why I don’t submit to her fucking blood tests.”

Noah slanted his younger brother a look. “You know she has to be careful, Ben. In her heart, Agatha knows you’re family, but she’s stubborn and cautious.”

“She should take my mother’s word for it.”

“Yeah. But it would damage her pride to do that.”

“And to hell with anyone else’s pride? Is that it?”

Noah shrugged. “Agatha has more pride than most.”

“Ha! She’s a—”

“Careful.” Noah narrowed his eyes. “I’m madder than hell at her right now, too, but she’s still my grandmother, your grandmother.”

“Not that she’ll admit it.”

Noah ignored that to add, “Just as you’re my brother.”

“Half brother.” Ben lifted the beer and guzzled down the remainder, then belched.

“Whole, half, who gives a rat’s ass? You’re my brother, and regardless of any damn blood test, we both know it.”

Grace’s heart expanded in her chest, her throat clogged with emotion. Yes, Ben was Noah’s brother, and Agatha’s grandson. It was there in the shiny black hair he shared with Noah, in the broad-shouldered physique, the olive skin tone.

At six feet, four inches, Noah was as impressively tall as his father had been. Ben stood six feet even, but he carried himself the same, and their sexy, teasing smiles were identical.

Only the eyes were different. Noah had pale, striking blue eyes that could be either as cold as ice or hot enough to singe your soul. Ben’s eyes were just the opposite, as black as a sinner’s and equally as wicked. He looked at women and they blushed and stammered in reaction.

Agatha’s son had fathered two sons by two different women, and he hadn’t acknowledged either of them. Likely Agatha wouldn’t have either if her son hadn’t died, leaving her all alone with no other family. But fifteen years ago the private detective she’d hired had found Noah, and now Agatha loved him. Grace was sure of that much, even if Agatha never admitted it. Despite the current disharmony, Noah was her pride and joy.

Though Agatha had been fully appeased by locating one grandson to fill the void in her personal and business life, the detective had also found Ben before the search could be stopped.

From the first, when Ben had been an irreverent fourteen-year-old rascal, he and Agatha had rubbed each other the wrong way. But Grace knew that eventually Agatha would accept him. How could she not when Ben was so like Noah in the most important ways, proving he was her own flesh and blood?

Problem was, Agatha ruled with an iron fist and often placed her pride above everything else. Ben was his own boss, refusing to submit to the whims of an old woman. Secretly, Grace enjoyed Ben’s rebellion. He infuriated Agatha, which kept her on her toes and sharp-witted.

“We need more beer,” Noah announced, and dropped his empty bottle with a clank onto the balcony’s stone floor.

More beer!

“You’ll have to get it,” Ben said without moving. “I can barely feel my legs.”

“Wimp.” Noah started to rise with a lusty groan.

“No.” Grace stepped forward, drawing the attention of both men. They slued around in their chairs and stared at her in muddled surprise.

“Hey,” Noah said. Then, with some confusion: “Where’d you come from?”

“The front door wasn’t locked.”

“It wasn’t?”

Disapproving, Grace said, “I think you’ve both had quite enough to drink.”

The two men shared a look, and Ben grinned. “Ah, Gracie, did someone try to drown you, sweetheart?”

“Ha, ha.” She made a face at Ben. He was forever teasing, and usually she liked it. “No, I got caught in the rain.” Self-conscious, she pushed her hair behind her ears again. Her sweater stuck to her breasts and her back and her long skirt clung to her plump thighs, her belly. “My stupid car broke down,” she explained, while trying to make herself less noticeable.

Noah straightened, then came to his feet with stiff-legged purpose. “Why the hell didn’t you call me? I’d have picked you up.”

He swayed, and Grace lifted a brow. “In your condition? I do believe that’s not only dangerous but illegal.”

He cupped her chin and leaned closer. “I’d have called a cab for you.”

Just that simple touch on her chin and Grace’s heart was ready to pop. With a shuddering breath, she lifted herself away from him and busied herself by picking up empty bottles.

All around them, the storm raged, spraying into the balcony every so often, lighting the early evening sky with a brilliant display of electrical energy. The thunder rolled almost continually, rattling the windows and vibrating the floor, which explained why they hadn’t heard her knock.

“It doesn’t matter,” Grace remarked when both men continued to watch her, putting her on edge. “I’m here now.”

She started back into the apartment, aware of them tottering along behind her. “Besides, I was in a hurry.”

Ben propped himself up against a wall. He, too, had on jeans, now wet to the knees, and a polo shirt that fit his broad chest perfectly. His face, throat, and brawny arms were tanned, testifying to the amount of time he spent outdoors and near the pool.

“Yeah?” he asked. “How come?”

Distracted, Grace asked, “How come what?”

“How come you were in such an all-fire hurry?”

The reason for her visit flooded back to Grace and she gasped, almost dropping the bottles. Noah relieved her of several and plopped them onto the dinette table. “Grace? You okay?”

“Ohmigod,” she said, and turned to Noah, grasping his sweatshirt with both hands, holding on to him while she stared up into his handsome face. “I almost forgot when I saw you both sitting out there, looking so cute in your drunken revelry.”

Ben chuckled, muttering, “Cute,” under his breath, but Noah shook his head. “Quit pulling on my clothes and tell me what you forgot.”

“Almost forgot.” Then Grace softened with emotion. “Oh, Noah. I am so, so sorry.”

He and Ben shared another look, this one of concern and male speculation. “For what, exactly?”

“For what? For what’s happened, that’s what!” Her hands, curled in his shirt, thumped against his chest in emphasis. “For how Agatha jumped to the wrong conclusions and how everyone is acting and—”

Noah pressed two big, warm fingers against her lips, making her toes curl inside her waterlogged shoes and her belly curl in sensual delight. “What conclusion did Agatha jump to? And how in hell do you think everyone is treating me?”

His fingers were still over her mouth and Grace swallowed hard, then reached for his thick wrist and gently drew his hand down. Oh Lord, the man made her shake with…with all kinds of things.

“Agatha wrongly assumed you were to blame for the breakup. And from what she told me, Miss Callen’s family was no better.” Grace’s temper ignited anew at her own reminder of how he’d been treated. “You’d think none of them knew you at all!”

Ben pushed away from the wall. His walk was only slightly steadier than the moment before. “You’re saying you don’t blame him?”

Grace whirled on him. “Ben Badwin! You should certainly know better!”

“Hey—” He held up both hands, on the verge of laughter. “I didn’t say I blamed him.”

“Well, I would hope not.”

Noah crossed his arms and propped his hip against the dinette table. He still wavered a little, rocking back and forth. “So who do you blame?”

“Why…no one.” Grace flapped a hand. “Oh, I heard all about Kara weeping and being devastated and all that. Agatha said you’ve humiliated her in front of all of Gillespe by crying off after all the arrangements had been made, and that Kara’s emotionally crushed and may never recover. And I feel horrible for her, I really do.”

Ben laughed again.

“But I know you both must have had your own reasons. At the very least, I know you wouldn’t have crushed her unless you had no other choice.”

Grace squealed when Ben slipped his thick arms around her from behind and lifted her off her feet in a crushing hug. He treated her weight as negligible, and the thought occurred to Grace that for a man of Ben’s size, it might be.

And Noah was even bigger!

Ben’s bear hug so surprised her, Grace’s arms and legs sort of stuck straight out, like a strangled starfish trying to gain balance.

Rainwater squished out of her clothing, then trickled down her body and onto Ben. He put a smacking kiss on the side of her neck, immobilizing Grace with the impulsiveness of it. She could count on one hand the number of times a gorgeous man had kissed her neck.

Heck, she could count with one finger because this time was a first.

Noah continued to study her, scrutinizing her every reaction, which made Ben’s behavior inconsequential. She began to burn, and knew she had to gain control of the situation.

She cast a wary glance at Ben, who, although he released her, continued to grin like a rogue. She looked back at Noah, and way up, to see his expression. His muscled arms were crossed over his chest, his intense blue eyes narrowed, watchful. He looked bemused and something else, perhaps…tender.

“I’d have been here sooner,” Grace told him in a croak, trying to collect herself. “But I was out of town.”

“I remember,” Noah murmured, still holding her fixed in his gaze. “Agatha had you doing some headhunting, didn’t she?”

“Yes, for a new chef she’d heard about. He agreed to her terms and she, ah, hired him. He starts right away.”

“Great.”

Noah sounded more disgusted than enthused. It had been Noah’s job for years now to do all the hiring. Agatha’s interference often resulted in difficulties that Noah had to deal with.

Grace didn’t want him sidetracked with worries about that now. “But that’s not important.”

“No? What is important?”

Grace chewed her lip, trying to decipher Noah’s mood. He had the most stony, unreadable expression when he chose, and he’d just gone into full conceal mode. He appeared relaxed, unconcerned, no more than curious.

But oh, those silvery blue eyes of his, shadowed by his long thick lashes, continued to burn. And she felt the heat right down to the core of her being. She glanced at Ben, but he just winked, his own brown eyes alight with mischief.

“It’s important,” Grace said, “that you know everyone doesn’t blame you.”

“But everyone does.”

“Not me.”

Ben again laced his arms around her and propped his chin on her crown. “Why is that, sugar?”

Oh, please, Grace thought in a bit of a panic; Ben didn’t really think she could talk with him lined up behind her and Noah in front of her? She felt surrounded by testosterone, hemmed in by machismo. Impossible.

It was distracting enough that Ben had a body like a steel statue and was sexy to boot. It was doubly bad that he touched her in ways she’d never been touched before. It more than rattled her.

But while Ben could unsettle her with his dynamic presence, he’d never excited her emotions the way Noah did, never made her alternately hot and cold and so physically aware.

Yet, there Noah stood a mere foot in front of her, bare feet braced apart, dark hair damp from the humidity, eyes as hot as a blue flame. Grace’s heart pattered, and she wondered that Ben didn’t feel it.

Then Noah slanted his brother an amused look. “You’re going to make her faint, Ben.”

“That right?” Ben peeked over her shoulder to see Grace’s face. She could feel his breath on her cheek. “You feelin’ faint, honey?”

“I, uh…”

“Knock it off, Ben.” Noah watched her as if he knew what she felt and even while he smiled at her predicament, he wanted to protect her.

Grace drew a shuddering breath. “I’m, uh, not used to guys touching me.”

Noah’s eyes glittered. “Huh. Now there’s a confession.”

Before Grace could recover from the suggestion in Noah’s tone, Ben saved her by pretending to be shocked. He said, very theatrically, “No! I won’t believe it, Gracie.”

Grace didn’t mind Ben poking fun. Almost every other twenty-five-year-old woman she knew had left virginity far behind.

Without looking at Noah, she said, “Afraid so.” Then, to try to relieve the tension, she added, “At least, not big, gorgeous, sexy guys like yourself.”

“You hittin’ on me?” Ben asked with a teasing grin. He could be such a charming scamp.

“No,” Grace assured him, “because I’d have no idea what to do with you.”

He laughed and shook his head, then touched her cheek before moving away. “She’s all yours, Noah.”

Noah smiled.

Seeing that smile, Grace gulped.

Apparently unaware of Grace’s embarrassment, or at the least not caring, Ben added, “I suggest you get her out of those wet clothes before you continue your interrogation.” He glanced back at Grace over his shoulder and bobbed his eyebrows. “I’d offer to help, you know, but I gotta get going. Hell, I’m so drunk, I hope I make it to my own bed.”

Grace immediately turned and snagged the back waistband of Ben’s jeans. She held on. “You can’t drive in your condition!”

Ben was so unsteady on his feet he almost fell into Grace when she abruptly halted his forward momentum, causing him to stumble back two steps. He caught himself at the last second and laughed. “All I’m gonna do, Gracie, is pick up my shoes, shuffle to the elevator, and then ask Graham to call me a cab, assuming I make it to the lobby in an upright position. Noah here made me drink more than I’m used to.”

“Made you?” asked Noah with one glossy black brow raised. “I seem to remember you’re the one who showed up with the first case of beer.”

First case of beer? Grace still held on to Ben. “I’ll take you to Graham.”

Ben looked down at her hands, latched tight to his waistband. “Turn me loose, woman. I can manage.”

She gave Noah a questioning look.

“He’ll be fine,” Noah promised. “I’ll call down and tell Graham to watch for him.”

“Well, all right.” Grace loosened her hold and Ben floundered forward. He fetched up against the couch, righted himself, then located his shoes. He didn’t bother to put them on.

“You two kids behave now, okay?”

Noah, who was only slightly steadier than Ben, went to his brother to help him out, then used the intercom to call down to Graham.

While they were both occupied Grace picked up an empty beer case and began stowing bottles inside. She was only half done when Noah returned.

He still had that awesome fire burning in his eyes and it made her very nervous. And very, very aware of him as a man.

“You heard what Ben said,” Noah told her while scrutinizing her every movement.

“Uh, no.” Grace licked her dry lips. “What did he say?”

Noah started forward, faltering a little but with definite purpose. And damn if he didn’t have a small, wicked smile tilting one side of his mouth. “You’re all…” His gaze dipped over her too-round body outlined in the clinging clothes—top to bottom and back again, making her heart leap with embarrassment. His eyes met hers. “…wet.”

Grace’s mouth opened, but not a single word emerged.

Noah kept advancing, closer and closer, despite the way she instinctively backed up. Until he stood directly in front of her, until the power of him, the heat and the deep male scent of him touched her all over.

Her breath caught, her pulse tripped and tumbled.

“Gracie,” he murmured, and he touched her cheek, looking at her in a way he’d never looked at her before, in a way no man had ever looked at her. His smile deepened, his eyes brightened. “You’re going to have to lose the wet clothes.”

Grace closed her eyes and wished like hell he wasn’t drunk. But wishing didn’t work. He was drunk—the fact that he’d said such an outrageous thing to her proved it—and that meant she couldn’t take advantage of him, no matter what he said, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Well, damn.