More Than You Know by Jennifer Gracen (14)

Chapter Fourteen

Golden rays of sunlight peeked in through the curtains, too bright on Julia’s face. She moaned softly and rolled away from the light—into a warm, naked body. Her eyes snapped open. Her heart stopped for a second, then took off with a gallop. She’d stayed the night. Jesus, she’d slept there. She never stayed the night.

But even in her shock, she had to pause. While asleep, Dane looked like a Greek god, damn him. His long, dark lashes made her want to touch them. His chiseled jaw was covered in dark stubble, only making him even sexier to her. And his curls, those curls she absolutely adored . . . all tousled, calling to her fingers to come and play. She stared at him.

The rise and fall of his chest hypnotized and lulled her as she considered him. No man had ever made love to her as sweetly and attentively as he had last night. Her insides wobbled just thinking about it. He’d blown apart the last of her preconceived notions with might. Dane Harrison was no flighty playboy. He wasn’t a player at all. He was decent, kind, and caring. Sensitive and sweet. He’d been so good to her last night.

Last night . . . oh God, Liam . . .

She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory. Liam showing up, out of nowhere, after all this time . . . and at her job, for God’s sake. She couldn’t have been more shocked. Then, when he grabbed her and shoved her back against the wall, scared. Then, she’d totally lost it. In front of Dane. First screaming and trying to claw at Liam, then breaking down into tears like a weak fool. And he’d stayed. He should’ve gone running, dumped her on the spot. They were only sleeping together, after all—he didn’t have to do a thing for her, much less stick around for that kind of garbage.

But no. What had he done? Stood up for her. Let her cry and fall apart. Asked for details so he could better understand. Ordered drinks and food and made sure she was all right. Hung out with her and Kelvin like they were all old friends. Took her up to his suite to comfort her, make love to her, and done so with a tenderness beyond anything she could have imagined. And then he’d held her. Held her close, and tight, with gentle softness in his eyes, his voice, his touch . . .

He’d been so gentle, so tender, that her heart had just thawed, tumbled, and split wide open. She’d never felt so adored; not just in how he touched her, but in how he spoke to her, looked at her. She saw true feeling in his stunning blue eyes, she sensed it. It had taken her breath away. And that was it. He’d looked right into her eyes as he slid deep inside her, touched her heart with that intense but affectionate stare, and she’d thought, clear as day, I love you.

She’d fallen asleep in his arms, with him stroking her back and whispering honeyed words . . . “I’ve got you,” he told her over and over as she drifted off to sleep. “I’ve got you.”

How could she not love him after last night? And it was awful, just awful. Admitting to herself she loved him was the worst thing she’d done in a long, long time.

Her heart thumped against her ribs as panic started welling in her chest. He’ll never love you, her mind screamed at her. Get out now, while you can, you fool. He’ll never choose someone like you.

She pulled away from Dane, careful not to wake him. Her stomach flipped nauseously as her demons continued to torment her. Come ON, Julia, get real! You’re from another world. He’s crazy rich, younger than you, drop-dead gorgeous. And one day, he’ll want a child of his own. You’re too old to give him children. You’re a good time, “Red”. You’re for now. He’ll never love you back. He was so nice to you last night because he felt sorry for you.

Shaking inside, she untangled herself from his arms and slipped out of bed. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor where she’d left them the night before, and she tiptoed to them. With trembling hands, she turned her back to him to pull on her panties, then her bra.

“Where you goin’?” came Dane’s gravelly voice.

She whirled to face him. He was awake and watching her. Busted. “I . . . have to go,” she mumbled, reaching for the pale blue cotton tank dress on the floor. She pulled it over her head and down over her body with quick, terse movements.

“No you don’t,” he said, his tone changing. “Come here.”

“No. I have to leave.” She looked around wildly. Where was her bag? What had she done with her shoes? Her heart started to pound.

“Julia. Look at me.”

She shook her head and continued to search. All she heard was roaring in her ears, the blood pulsing.

He threw back the covers and went to her, grasping her shoulders. “Look at me.”

She did, hoping he couldn’t see the swirl of raging emotions she was fighting. Hoping he couldn’t see what she felt for him, bubbling deep and trying to break through. But his eyes were intense, searching her face for clues.

“Tell me why you have to go,” he said.

“I just do,” she stammered. Her mind blanked, and the rising panic was making it harder for her to breathe. Her heart felt stuck in her chest, and she rubbed at her sternum in an effort to relieve the pressure.

“What the—why are you shaking? Hey. Everything’s okay.” His velvety voice, intending to soothe, only made it worse. God, when he used that tone with her, her bones melted to goop. She adored it. She adored him. Ugh, she was in too deep. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to care about him, much less fall in love with him.

“I—I need air. I have to go. Let me go.” She shoved away from him and walked out to the sitting room. Her bag was on the coffee table, and she spotted her shoes by the door.

“Don’t leave like this,” he said with an edge, following her. “Please. Talk to me.”

She glanced at him. Still naked, he was glorious to look at. Did he have to look so damn good when she was fighting off a panic attack? Fighting the frightening things she felt for him? Trying to make a clean getaway? “There’s nothing to talk about,” she bit out. She grabbed her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder.

“I think we have lots to talk about,” he said, his voice clipped. “But you’re running away. Even after last night. I thought—”

She turned on him and almost shouted, “I don’t do sleepovers. I don’t stay the night.”

“Well, maybe you don’t usually have nights like we had last night,” he offered. “A night like that would wipe anyone out. I passed out pretty quickly too.”

She shook her head and started for the exit. In two seconds, he had cut around her and stood in front of the door.

“You’re going to keep me here?” she said tightly.

“No, of course not. But Julia . . .” He stared down at her, his bright blue eyes flashing. “Don’t run away,” he ground out. “You’re better than that.”

 

 

“Apparently I’m not,” Julia said in a low growl. “Stop telling me what to do, what to feel, who I am. Stop trying to manage my life. Let me out.”

Dane’s mind raced. He knew a fight or flight when he saw one, and she was running for her life. She was anxious, shaky, and looked both mad as hell and scared to death at the same time. He wasn’t trying to manage her life, for God’s sake. But something told him that if he let her walk out the door now, their . . . relationship, arrangement, whatever the hell it was, would be over. And he cared about her too much to let her go. More than he’d realized.

But if that’s how it came across to her, that he was trying to manage her . . . or even control her . . . hell, he never meant for it to seem like that. He was just trying to help her. He was a guy, he fixed things. That’s what guys did. Or so he thought . . . Jesus, he didn’t know which end was up right then.

Her flushed face, wild eyes, tight words, and need to escape told him several things. She was embarrassed about what had happened the night before with Liam—hell, that was obvious. She probably figured he thought less of her for being involved with someone like that, and for some of the things that had happened in her past, things she’d begrudgingly revealed to him.

But he didn’t. He only thought more of her, for fighting back and making a life for herself despite taking so many horrible hits. He thought he’d made that clear to her last night. He’d done everything he could to make her feel cherished, cared for, and safe. He thought she’d finally relaxed enough to let him be there for her.

But not in the light of day, he supposed. He saw the panic in her eyes, and it made him want to punch the wall. “Julia, I’m not trying to manage your life. I’m not trying to tell you what to do.”

“Yes you are,” she countered.

“I’m not, really. If it came across like that, I’m sorry. Please, just listen to me. Okay?”

She didn’t say yes or no, but she didn’t move. Her eyes slid to his shoulder so she didn’t have to make eye contact.

“I know we said no strings, but . . .” He stared her down. “Now . . . maybe . . . I’m seeing some strings here. I mean, I’m sorry, but anyone would have compassion for another person who went through what you did last night.”

She gasped in what seemed to him like horror. Her eyes widened, and she staggered back a step. “You felt sorry for me,” she whispered raggedly. “That was a pity fuck last night. Oh God.”

“No! No, it wasn’t. Don’t you dare say things like that.” He grasped her arms, but made sure to do so gently. “Julia, that bastard shook you up. He brought back terrible memories. I learned things I probably never would have if it hadn’t been for that situation. Now you’re regretting it. I get that. But you don’t have to run out of here like a bat out of hell, you’re safe with me. We’re . . . I want you . . .” To give me—us—a chance. “I want you to feel safe with me. I’m feeling superprotective of you this morning.”

She stopped wiggling under his hands and looked at him.

“I’m not asking a thing of you,” he said. “Just . . . that you don’t leave like this.” His eyes bore into hers. “Last night—I’m talking about the part between us, here—that was . . . beautiful. Don’t end a night like that with a move like this.”

Her eyes went a little round at that. She drew a shaky breath and stayed silent, but didn’t move to leave. Maybe he was getting through to her.

He relaxed his grip and rubbed her arms. “Stay a while. I’ll order up some breakfast. Eat something. Then, if you want to go, you can go. I just . . .” Looking down at her, he realized he had no idea what was going through her head. The kinder he was to her, the more she bucked him. Sad frustration permeated him and he sighed in resignation. He was a fool; he wasn’t going to undo years of emotional damage with one gorgeous night. What was he thinking? He released her arms. “You know what? I’m not begging here. You want to go? Go. Leave if you need to. But just know I’d’ve liked it if you said good-bye before you did, instead of slipping out without a word.”

“You’re right,” she whispered mournfully. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” I love you. Just let me in. He wanted to say it so much, but swallowed it. “I’m going to order up breakfast. I’m ordering for two. Then I’m going to take a fast shower. When I come out, if you’re still here, I’d like for you to join me. Your call.”

She didn’t say anything, but looked into his eyes and gave a timid nod.

He quickly kissed her forehead, then strode away from her, went to the bathroom, and shut the door. Exhaling a deep sigh, he leaned back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut.

Goddammit, she was hurting. Her usual self-confidence had been shaken, her shields hit, and she looked plain scared. He hated that for her. He hated the pain in her eyes. The doubt, mistrust, panic, and worst of all, a hint of self-loathing. After the day on his yacht, he thought he’d broken through her walls a little bit. Enough for her to relax around him, anyway. Not anymore. Last night’s trip down memory lane had messed her up, and she was scrambling to both protect herself and shut him out. It was sadly obvious to him, and seeing all that in his strong, bold redhead filled him with anguish. He ached for her.

As for her comment about his trying to manage her life, it still bothered him. That wasn’t what he’d been trying to do. Was it? He scrubbed a hand over his face. Since seeing Liam looming over her, Dane had felt a resounding need to protect her that had walloped him and wouldn’t stop. Someone had threatened her, and every prehistoric male stereotype he-man instinct had kicked right in.

And then in bed, last night . . . she had drunk in his affection like someone who’d been dying of thirst. She’d let him be gentle, shower her with tenderness . . . and he’d realized then, when he looked deep into her beautiful eyes as he slipped inside her, that he was totally head over heels in love with her. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, as their eyes had locked as he moved inside her, he’d seen a hint of deeper feelings in her eyes too.

Now, she was trying to push him away. Neither of them was feeling sassy and playful, as they usually were together. She was scared and scattered, he was confused and fiercely protective. It was new territory, and he didn’t know the landscape. All he knew was he cared. No, one other thing he knew: the more he showed her that, the more she’d push him away.

He’d have to play it cool. Keep his feelings hidden, not scare her off. For now, that was how he’d have to handle it, until she was acting and feeling more like herself again. Then . . . then maybe he could find a way to tell her how he really felt. In the meantime: damage control.

With a grunt of frustration, he turned and used the hotel phone on the wall to order room service, then stepped into the shower.

Ten minutes later, dressed in clothes he kept at the suite, he ventured into the sitting room. To his relief and delight, Julia sat on the sofa, staring across the room out the window, appearing calm and untroubled. Just looking at her, his heart did a quiet flip in his chest. “Hey.”

Her eyes flicked to him. “Hey.”

“You stayed.”

“I was hungry. You promised me breakfast.”

She wanted to play it cool and easy? Fine by him. He didn’t care. She’d stayed. “I’m hungry too. It should be here any—” A knock on the door cut him off, and he grinned. “Minute.” He went to the door, let the employee wheel in a covered tray, thanked him and slipped him some cash, and turned to Julia. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered a couple of things. Hope you like something here. If not, just fake it and eat it anyway.”

 

 

Julia watched as he lifted the silver domes to reveal mounds of scrambled eggs, whole wheat toast, a plate of mouthwatering strips of bacon, and a big bowl of cut fruit salad. Her stomach actually growled. “Looks fantastic to me,” she said.

“Good. Coffee?” Before she could answer, he lifted a small silver pot and poured the steaming ambrosia into the two empty ceramic cups.

She rose from the couch and stood at his side. The owner of the hotel was serving her. Dane kept showing her over and over, in tiny ways, that contrary to her initial belief, he was no typical spoiled rich boy. That he was his own man, and a really good, decent one at that.

A quick scan of the tray, and she plucked two sugar packets from the tiny holder. “You tipped that guy.”

“Huh?” Dane blinked, thrown by her random comment.

“The bellhop who brought the food. You tipped him.”

“Of course.”

She gave him a long look. “You own this hotel. You sign his paychecks.”

“So?” Dane stirred some cream into his coffee. “He did me a service. I tipped him. That’s what you do.”

“That’s what most people do, yeah. You don’t have to.”

“Bullshit.” Dane snorted and slanted her a look. “I’m not an asshole. You tip people, period.”

She had to smile. “You’re decent, Boss. Very decent.”

“Glad you noticed.” His eyes sobered as he looked at her. “And if you noticed, why were you trying to bolt before?”

She winced. “I’m sorry about that. I just . . .” Her voice trailed off and her cheeks felt hot.

He shook his head hard, to cut her off. “Know what? Not now. It’s fine.” He waved a hand as if to dismiss the topic. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I’m glad you chose to stay. End of story.” He reached into the bowl and plucked out a cube of honeydew, and popped it into his mouth. “Mmmm, it’s perfect. Here, try.” Still chewing, he took another piece and held it up to her.

Unable to resist his easy charm, she opened her mouth and let him feed it to her. The melon was sweet and juicy. “God, yeah. Delicious.”

He stared at her mouth for a second, then leaned in for a quick kiss. His tongue swept over her lips, licking, tasting. “Yup,” he murmured against her mouth. “Delicious.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Sweet talker.”

“Sometimes. Is it working?” He grinned, then pushed the tray closer to the couch and fixed her a plate, heaping on the eggs and bacon, arguing with her when she said no to the toast. Then he fixed himself a plate and sat beside her.

As they ate, he told her about the upcoming business trip he had to take. He was leaving on Sunday afternoon, going to check in on his hotels in Chicago and Detroit, and would be gone for about two weeks. He talked about the trip, the things he had to do in the hotels, and she let her eyes roam over him.

She didn’t usually tell him, but she loved looking at him, listening to him, being near him. He was so easy to be with. And so handsome right then in a simple, clean white polo shirt and navy slacks. She admired how he was so comfortable in his own skin, so laid back in the way he sat, talked, moved . . . he had that aura of ease and natural charm that made people gravitate to him, want to be around him. God knows she wanted to be around him. And she’d almost left for good only minutes before. She was an idiot. A scared idiot.

She was glad he’d called her on her bullshit. She was glad she’d apologized, steeled herself up, and stayed. She’d done it for him, sucking up her fears, because she’d caught the betrayed look in his eyes when she’d headed for the door. It had made her insides unravel. He looked so hurt....

God, she was such a bitch sometimes! Why? Why still, when he’d always been good to her? He hadn’t been good to her last night out of pity. He’d done it because he was a seriously decent man, and he’d wanted to comfort her. To treat her with care and make her feel better. Which, truthfully, had been exactly what she’d needed. She’d loved every moment of it. She’d gone over the edge of the cliff and fallen in love with him last night. How could she not?

She had to stop punishing Dane for the sins of other men. It wasn’t fair. To either of them. What he’d said was true: he wasn’t Max, or Liam, and it wasn’t fair to put him on their shelf. He deserved better.

She needed to cut back on the sharp quips, the running for the door, the standoffishness, and start reciprocating his goodness. It was the least she could do for him. She’d never tell him she had true feelings for him, much less that she loved him, but she could at least show it by being sweeter. The words would never be necessary if she did that. And she wanted to do that. She liked him. She really did.

He smiled at something she said and her heart sighed. That smile. Like sunlight. He was like sunlight, bright and radiant and hard to look at without feeling you had to shield your eyes. He was smart, fun, kind, charming, considerate, smoking hot . . . oh, yeah, she was crazy about him. Head over heels in love, God help her.

But she could bury her true feelings for him. She could, and she should. All she could do was enjoy the ride while it lasted. Savor it while they were still involved, for however long that would be. Until he got bored, or decided she wasn’t right for him after all.

The thought of it ending made her heart wince.

But one thing he’d been right about: she was a better person than how she’d been acting. Time to start being that to him. Right now.

“Thank you for breakfast,” she said softly. “And thank you for last night. For coming in and handling Liam, so I didn’t have to. And for treating me with such kindness, both during and after, up here. I . . . I needed that, I admit it. You were right. And . . . you were wonderful. I won’t forget it. Thank you for that, Dane. All of it.”

His fork stopped halfway to his mouth and he stared at her. As he lowered his hand to his plate, the corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes sparkled. “You’re very welcome. I’m glad I helped. I’m glad that you let me.”

“Me too.”

They gazed into each other’s eyes. The air around them was charged, thick with unsaid words and sparks and that pull that always seemed to envelop them when they were close. She wanted to crawl into his lap, but didn’t move a muscle.

He smiled at her and took the last bite of his eggs. “So, I’ll text you while I’m away. Should be two weeks at the least, three weeks at the most.”

“Okay.”

“Tonio will keep an eye out. You know. Just don’t worry about anything, all right?”

She blinked. “I hadn’t even thought of that yet. Yeah, all right. Thanks for that.”

His eyes had softened, but they suddenly lit with wickedness. “Two or three weeks without you in my bed? Damn. I’ll have to sustain myself by imagining how steamy hot it’ll be when I come back.” His grin turned devilish. “Mmmm yeah.”

She laughed. “Sounds good.”

“It does, right?” He tossed her a wink and reached for his coffee. “Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone.”

She snorted and said, “I think I’ll manage.”

But a tiny pang hit her heart as she realized she would miss him. Damn. God, she was in so much trouble. So much for no strings.