Читать книгу One Wilde Night - Rhonda Leah - Страница 7

Chapter 3

Tara slowly opened her eyes, well aware of the male body pressed against her. Tucker’s leg was thrown over her and his erection felt heavy on her backside. All she wanted in this moment was to lie there and spend the day repeating the events of last night.

That reality wouldn’t happen.

He had a lecture to give at eleven. She had to open the store at nine. He was flying out of her life on a plane back to Boston…tonight.

She slowly stretched and eased her body away from his, unable to allow herself to think about the loss she felt breaking the physical connection to another human. Tucker rolled, taking some of the covers with him, and hugged the pillow she put beside him. One muscular shoulder stuck out of the covers, made her fingers itch to touch him. His angular features were relaxed in sleep. He looked utterly peaceful. Blond hair curled over his ears, making him look younger than he was.

She inched off the bed and retrieved her stockings from the floor, then stood at the end of the bed and marveled at the sight of the sleeping giant. He’d given her more pleasure in the last eight hours than she’d known in ages.

It had to end. She had to leave. The alarm clock on the nightstand displayed six-fifteen. The sun wouldn’t be up yet. She could make her escape unnoticed.

Near the sofa, she gathered her clothes and dressed in quick motions. She refused to acknowledge the disappointment she felt at leaving his suite, the haven they’d created last night.

Tucker was by far the most fascinating anti-social, absent-minded professor she’d ever met. She smirked to herself at the first thoughts she’d had of him. He’d gone a long way in proving her wrong.

He’d been gentle, yet somehow known how to push her buttons. He’d coaxed her over the edge so many times last night, she’d lost count. Her body was sated, and she felt more alive than she had in months.

Once dressed, she ventured back into the bedroom for one last peek. The dread curling in her stomach would have to go away. She didn’t have time for second thoughts or regrets, and besides, she’d always have the wonder she’d felt his arms.

She set the alarm clock, the least she could do to ensure he made it to his lecture on time. Finding a hotel-issued pad and pen on the small desk in the sitting room, she jotted a quick note. A thank you, in not so many words, for the best birthday present she’d ever received.

Leaving the hotel, she ignored the feelings storming her. Once home, she took a hot bath, soaking muscles that ached deliciously from their workout. She used perfumed oils and tried to relax her whirling mind. It didn’t work.

Work. She’d have to focus on the shop. She had floral arrangements to make today, and it was the first Saturday of the month, which meant she needed to place orders for the store.

Wilde Flowers and More was her life. She’d do well to remember that. It made her happy.

She refused to think about last night. The man. His lecture…or his flight.

* * * *

The alarm clock buzzed, and Tucker lifted his head from the pillow, immediately noticing the absence of one auburn-haired beauty. He knew she wasn’t only out of bed, but gone from his life.

Reaching for the damn clock, he pressed the snooze button. He groaned. Nine thirty. At least she’d set the alarm.

Good thing he was prepared and had notes for the lecture. He couldn’t remember sleeping so soundly, ever. Not that he had time to contemplate. He jumped from the bed and headed to the shower.

A long cold shower did little to dampen his thoughts. He dressed with his normal quick efficiency and puttered around the hotel room, haphazardly throwing his crumpled suit into his carry-on, glad he’d packed light. He’d only been in town three days.

He was pushing the room service cart into the hall when the phone rang.

“Hello,” he said into the receiver, noticing for the first time a folded note on the desk. Joey spoke to his haze-filled brain as he ran his finger over the letters of his name on the outside of the folded paper. Muttering his way through the quick conversation, he used sleeping in a strange bed as an excuse for his fogginess. Joey’d be there in fifteen minutes.

When he hung up the phone, dread filled him. He didn’t want to see what she’d said, to know why she’d left before he woke…or without waking him.

Finally, curiosity got the best of him and he opened the paper. All she’d written was Happy birthday to me and signed it Tara Madison. At least he knew her full name. Folding the paper into a small square and tucking it in his wallet, he couldn’t help grinning. He knew her birthday too... Odd she shared a birthday with Sarah. He might ask Joey about it.

The day flew by and he was back in Boston just after dark. Pushing through his front door he saw his favorite easy chair, a book resting on the arm. The stark white walls held a few black-framed prints he’d picked up in New York. An empty cold drink can littered the countertop. His apartment looked different than it had before he’d left. Cold and empty. He’d been living in Boston for almost six years and for the first time, he felt alone.

To hell with it. Tossing his wallet onto the kitchen table, he flipped on the computer. Final exams needed to be prepared for his students, and with the mood he was in, emailing the department head and agreeing to teach summer classes seemed like a good idea.