This could be his last chance at happiness, and he was too damn shell-shocked to do anything about it. He'd let his bad experience with his ex-wife color every decision he made about women.
Rightly so. He had his own heart to protect.
"Let's get dressed and get out of here." He gathered her clothes and helped her dress, refusing to touch her. What he really wanted to do was hold her tight against him, feel every inch of her skin cover him. But it was time to start letting go.
After they returned to their room, Serena went to take a shower, seemingly confused over his lack of conversation. Michael stepped into his own steamy shower and leaned against the cool tile wall, hoping the pummeling water would beat some sense into him.
They had one day left. One day, and then she'd be gone.
He stepped out of the shower and dried off, then went to find her.
She was in the kitchen fixing them a snack. Wearing plain cotton shorts and a t-shirt, her hair damp and streaming down her back, she looked completely different from the sex siren who'd tantalized him tonight with her wriggling ass and shapely legs.
Without makeup she looked like a college girl herself, not a professor. A down-home Kansas girl with a simple beauty that took his breath away.
"Hungry?" she asked, bringing out a tray with sandwiches and fresh vegetables.
"Starving."
She set the tray on the table in front of the sofa and went back to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of iced tea. "Sex makes me hungry," she said with a smile as she curled up on the couch.
He remembered not too long ago when she'd said she didn't know if sex made her hungry or not. Apparently, it did. "I know the feeling."
They tore into their food, eating as ravenously as they made love.
Correction--fucked. Making love was something you did with a person you cared about. He wouldn't care about her. He'd just fuck her until he couldn't fuck her any more.
Could he be any more ambiguous about this whole thing? He shook his head, amazed at his own lack of decision.
"What's wrong?" she asked, taking a long swallow of tea.
"Nothing. Just thinking about this week."
"It's been wonderful, Michael. Have I thanked you for all you've done for me?"
Oh sure. Pile on the guilt. What had he done, other than toy with her emotions and tell her he loved her, only to take it back like a bully on the school playground? "No thanks necessary. I've enjoyed it."
She set her tea on the table and turned serious eyes on him. "I need to ask you a favor."
"Okay, shoot."
Sucking in her bottom lip in a way he found incredibly sexy, she hesitated for a second before saying, "We have two nights left together."
"Right."
"I'd like to sleep with you. In your bed."
Oh, shit. "Why?" he blurted.
She arched a brow. "I don't know, exactly. Call it a need, or something indefinable. I just feel a need to sleep in your arms at night."
Protect. That word swirled around his head until he wanted to shake it out. Violently, if necessary. Sleeping with her would be intimate. Personal. Emotional.
As if she sensed his hesitation, she placed her hand on his knee. "I know how you feel, if you're worried about that. I know you don't want to be involved with me beyond this week. I can accept that. Consider this just another adventure for me. And you promised to help make this week exciting for me, didn't you?"
That he did. He'd made it exciting all right. Exciting, erotic, and completely disastrous.
So sleeping with her would nearly kill him, so what? Just what he deserved for leading her on in the first place. "Yes, we can sleep together."
"Thank you."
Michael tried to concentrate on work, putting the finishing pieces on his plotline for the next book. Serena sat with him, as he'd grown accustomed to, offering ideas and listening to him throw out suggestions.
She was amazingly insightful where his work was concerned, thinking along the same lines as he with character development and plotline. He could use her as an assistant, because he never had anyone to talk to about his writing.
After tomorrow, he wouldn't have her to talk to, either.
He'd miss that. A lot.
When she began to yawn, he closed the laptop and grabbed her hand, pulling her up beside him. "Let's go to bed."
She nodded and offered a sleepy smile, following him into his bedroom.
They undressed and slid into bed together. Serena snuggled up against him and laid her head on his shoulder, her hand draped across his chest. Michael stared at the ceiling, ignoring how perfect she felt in his arms. Ignoring how much he wanted to pull her under him and make love to her all night long.
"Thank you for doing this," she said.
"It's no big deal, Serena. Really."
"It is to me."
And that's what made this whole scenario suck.
"Night," she murmured in a sleepy voice.
"Night."
When the sounds of her rhythmic breathing indicated she was asleep, Michael exhaled.
&nb
sp; In his bed, in his arms, was exactly where Serena belonged. How in the hell was he ever going to let her go?
Chapter Thirteen
Waking up in Michael's arms had been heaven, everything she'd dreamed of. Serena had slept well for the first time all week.
Spending her last day stretched out on the beach, her body warmed by the tropical sun, she smiled, thinking about every new experience she'd had this week.
She was twenty-eight years old and had never spent all night snuggled in a man's arms. The few relationships she'd had did not include the guy sleeping over. In fact, the thought hadn't even occurred to her.
But with Michael, she'd wanted to sleep with him since the very first day. And now she had. With still one more night to come.
And one more day of erotic pleasure to share together.
She pushed aside the relentless ache in her middle at the thought that today was their last day together. From now on she'd live in the present, concerned only with the here and now. Not the 'later' that she couldn't change, anyway.
Michael didn't want her. Pure and simple. She didn't have what it took to make a long-term relationship work. She'd thought about this a lot, and chalked it up to her inexperience with men. Without the first idea how to form a lasting relationship, she'd gone about it all wrong.
Nothing to do about it now, except enjoy the day.
"I brought you one of those frou frou drinks that women like."
Serena shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up at Michael. "Frou frou drinks?"
"Yeah. Pina colada. With fruit and an umbrella."
She sat up and accepted the frothy concoction from him, arching a brow. "Do I look like a frou frou drink kind of woman?"
He tilted his head as if examining her for the frou frou gene. She punched his arm. "Stop."
"Sorry. You don't like it?" he asked, his lips curled in a generous smile.
She took a sip and licked her lips. "Yummy, actually. Smooth and creamy. Kind of like that sweet cream that comes from your cock."
Eyes darkening, he said, "Careful. You might get ravaged right here on the beach, in front of all these people."
She waved her hand. "I've had sex in front of groups before. Old hat stuff to me. Give it your best shot."