‘Absolutely not.’ She stepped out of his reach, before he could kick off yet more sizzles and shimmies. ‘I have to shower. Alone,’ she added for good measure when he chuckled.
She needed to make a quick getaway now—no matter how much she might be tempted to stay. Sleeping with Carter again had been a mistake, on a lot of levels, however great it might have felt at the time. Not least of which was that he was a man she didn’t seem to be able to wrap around her finger as easily as every other man she’d ever dated. Getting him to say he wouldn’t mention this to Marnie was the best she could hope for. They wouldn’t be doing this again. As he would be safely back in Savannah by the end of the week, and she would be steering well clear of him—and his addictive pheromones—until then.
‘Aren’t you forgetting something, sugar?’
She swung round at the laconic question. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘My little sister’s not as clueless about carnal relations as she used to be.’ His gaze dipped pointedly to her bare bottom. ‘I’m guessing she may well figure out something’s up when you show up with no panties on.’
He laughed, obviously enjoying her distress immensely.
‘Oh, go to hell...’ she huffed, waltzing back towards the bathroom.
‘Your butt looks real cute when you’re mad.’
She shot him the finger and slammed the bathroom door to cut off the sound of his full-bodied laughter. But as she dropped the dress and stepped into the enormous power shower her whole body started to shake.
Last night’s activities had the potential to be a disaster.... Not just because Marnie might find out—but because she was going to have to keep well away from Carter for the next seven days. And after the night they’d just shared, that was going to be a very tall order.
‘What were you thinking?’ she snapped at herself as the hot water hit her full in the face.
This didn’t just have the potential to be a disaster, it already was one. And like every other disaster in her life so far, it was entirely of her own making.
* * *
Carter’s laughter subsided as he picked up the hotel phone. ‘Give me the concierge.’
Damn, but she fascinated him. She got worked up about the weirdest things. Marnie wouldn’t care about them now. His sister was hardly the starry-eyed little romantic she’d once been, any more than he was the big brother she’d once looked up to. And while he’d always regretted her finding out he wasn’t the man she thought he was the way she had—he didn’t see why he, or Gina, should have to tiptoe around Marnie’s sensibilities now.
His kid sister had been living in New York for five years—making her own way in the big bad Yankee city and steadfastly refusing to let him have any kind of foothold in her life. He was proud of Marnie and what she’d achieved—even though he’d never tell her, because she’d only accuse him of patronising her. But the point was, she’d moved on, made a life for herself away from Savannah, and she sure as hell didn’t care about his love life any more. So why was Gina so hung up on Marnie finding out about them?
He shrugged off the thought as he got patched through to the concierge. Women. Who knew why they got hung up on half the stuff they got hung up on?
He made the request to the concierge and included a powerful incentive if it could be fulfilled in the next twenty minutes. He figured if Gina was like all the other women he’d ever dated, it would be a miracle if she was out of the bathroom before then.
Listening to the sound of running water, he imagined that lush body slick with soap suds. Heat pooled in his groin, and his morning erection perked right up.
He had to head off to The Waldorf for a lunch meeting with some Chinese investors, so it was probably a good thing he hadn’t been able to persuade Gina to blow off her friends.
Resigned to the fact that he’d have to take a rain check for their next booty call at least until tonight, he hunted up a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt from his suitcase. Dialling room service, he ordered breakfast and coffee and then stood by the glass wall to contemplate the awesome view—and the low-level hum of endorphins still cruising through his system.
He rubbed his palm across his midriff. He hadn’t felt this sated and well rested and energised in years. Despite the fact that at a rough estimate he’d totalled about three hours’ sleep in the last twenty-four.
And he gave Gina credit for that.
She really was his ideal sexual partner. He’d thought he’d been imagining how good they’d been together that night. But that night had only been a taster.
She was as wild and insatiable in the sack as he was, and even more wary of commitment out of it. He’d heard the caution in her voice when he’d asked any personal questions, felt her discomfort when he hugged her after sex, could tell she’d been reluctant to fall asleep in his arms, until he’d exhausted her—and himself. And he had a feeling this dumb notion about Marnie finding out was just another of her tactics for keeping a safe distance. She might even have persuaded herself her friendship with Marnie was a good excuse to call a halt to things.
Not gonna happen, sugar.
It was just plain dumb to throw a physical connection this perfect away over something so insubstantial.
The two of them were the perfect match. Last night had proved it beyond any reasonable and several unreasonable doubts. Having spent five torturous years suppressing his more basic sexual urges so his wife wouldn’t freak out on him—and then five more trying to find someone who was happy to satisfy those needs without demanding more—he knew how rare Gina was.
He’d found her once and lost her, because of some dumb notion that he was a better man than his daddy. That he could be the marrying kind if he put his mind to it. Well, he’d been there, done that, and now had the decree absolute and a few thousand dollars a month in alimony payments to show for it.
He didn’t plan to make the same mistake twice. He wasn’t the marrying kind. But he did have a healthy sex drive—which he now had the chance to indulge in for a whole week with a woman who enjoyed sex as down and dirty as he did.