Hours later, unable to sleep, Zion eased from his bed and pulled on his jeans. He glanced at the wall clock and saw it was almost three in the morning. After he and Celine had made love twice, they had gone downstairs to eat the potpie she’d cooked for dinner. The meal had been delicious and he’d surprised himself with a second helping. After dinner they had cleaned up the kitchen before returning to bed for another round of lovemaking, and had drifted off to sleep afterward.
He’d awakened before midnight to find her wrapped in his arms and their limbs entwined. Leaving her alone in that bed had been hard, but after unraveling their bodies, he had eased from the bed, re-dressed and headed for the door, with the intent of not looking back.
But he had.
Doing so had been his downfall. She’d been sleeping peacefully, with her face to him, and even while sleeping, she was beautiful. He loved her lips even more now that he’d spent an entire night tasting them. They were full, inviting, and he’d enjoyed devouring them time and time again. His gaze had drifted to the rest of her and he could make out her shapely body beneath the bedcovers. A body he’d enjoyed making love to. Too damn much. It had taken every ounce of his control not to return to that bed, but to walk out the door and go to his own room.
And he hadn’t been able to sleep.
After making love to Celine he should feel totally and completely satisfied. Instead he felt restless and agitated, with a desire to rejoin her in that bed and break one more of his rules. Damn. Hadn’t he broken a couple already because of her? There had been the business-versus-pleasure rule in Los Angeles, when he’d crossed the line and kissed her. And her being here, in this particular house, was breaking another rule. He tried convincing himself that with the kidnappers on her tail, her being here couldn’t be helped. But that had nothing to do with the fact he’d gone to bed with her. That was not only a rule breaker but a game changer.
And now, hours later, he was having withdrawal. He wanted her again. However, that wouldn’t be happening. He was determined not to break any more Zion’s Rules, which was why she was in the guest room and he was here in his own bedroom. Regardless of the fact he was feeling restless and agitated. Namely because other than those sexual desires eating at him, he had a strong feeling there was more to Celine than her beauty, curvaceous body and gorgeous legs.
He had figured that out over dinner, when the conversation somehow shifted to the state of the economy, world and domestic affairs and politics. It was obvious she was well versed on a number of topics and had strong opinions about particular ones. And they’d been opinions she hadn’t minded expressing. He liked that about her—her ability to speak her mind and have no qualms about doing so. At first, in LA, her outspokenness had bothered him, but now he saw it was just a part of who she was.
He moved to his bed again and, lifting the covers, eased back inside. Why did it suddenly feel cold and empty when it never had before? He knew his desire for one particular woman was messing with his mind, but he refused to go there. What he needed to do was get his rest, in order to deal with what he anticipated would be Celine’s attitude tomorrow. He figured that, like most women, she would not like that he’d left her bed without staying the entire night. Women expected to be held and cuddled after sex, but that wasn’t part of his makeup, so he’d made it one of his rules. He would tell her that, and if she didn’t like it, then it would be her problem, not his.
* * *
Celine opened her eyes, not sure what had awakened her. Maybe it was the sound of something stirring outside the window. Hopefully only a wild animal, she told herself, recalling what Zion had told her about being safe here. Besides, no one knew where she was and who she was with.
She flipped over on her back and stared up at the ceiling, not surprised she was in this bed alone. She had expected such a move from Zion. It was obvious the man had commitment phobias, and that was his issue, not hers. Yet she couldn’t help wondering why.
Celine shifted again to glance over at the clock on the nightstand. It was hard to believe it was almost four in the morning. She drew in a deep breath and inhaled Zion’s masculine scent lingering in the bedcovers.
She closed her eyes and remembered all she and Zion had done in this bed. Every single detail. Yet, even after all that, there was a degree of restlessness consuming her. Either that or after a few rounds of sex, she’d gotten addicted to Zion Blackstone. She’d never gotten addicted to anything in her life, so such a thing had to be impossible. Besides, Zion was a complicated man and she preferred not dealing with any more complications right now. She had enough to contend with.
Tomorrow would be a new day and she would make the best of it. The last thing she intended to do was make Zion think she was one of those needy women like that Bettina, who’d called a third time last night. They had been eating dinner, and when Celine asked Zion if he intended to take the call, he’d given her a firm no. For a quick minute she had felt a little bit of sympathy for the pesky Bettina, then just as quickly recalled the woman’s attitude toward her. The bitchiness and jealousy hadn’t been warranted. Who got possessive over a man who evidently didn’t want you? Or a man who had no intention of taking an involvement with you seriously? Celine was not that kind of woman and figured Zion would quickly figure that out.
Satisfied with those thoughts, Celine closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
* * *
“Good morning, Zion. You’re up early.”
Zion turned from the stove and braced himself for Celine’s fury at being left alone in bed. “Since you cooked dinner last night, I figured I would tackle breakfast.”
“Oh, aren’t you sweet.”
Sweet? He’d been called a lot of things by a woman the morning after, but sweet wasn’t one of them.
“So, what do you have planned today?” she asked.
“I’m working on a few pieces at the cottage, but I will take a break around lunch. If the weather holds I thought I’d show you the way down to the lake. You might like it there.”
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
“And if you’re ready to eat now I’ll put everything on the table,” he said.
“Yes, I’m ready. I have a ferocious appetite this morning.”
“Do you?” he asked.
“Yes. Do you need help with anything?”
He shook his head. “No, I got this,” he said, placing various platters in the center of the table. He’d cooked eggs, bacon and waffles.
“Mmm, everything looks good. Who taught you how to cook?” she asked.
He glanced at her as he took the chair across the table. “When I first moved to Rome I was living on a limited budget. I made my jewelry by day and moonlighted as a waiter in this restaurant. One day the cook got mad and walked out, and since the owner thought I was the one with the most promise, he threw me in the kitchen and taught me what I needed to know as a breakfast cook. I worked there for two years, and by the time I left I was helping out with evening meals.”
She nodded. “How did you become the former First Lady’s jeweler?”
“By luck. Just so happens one of my regular breakfast customers was a good friend of the president. They attended Harvard together. He told him about me and Mr. President requested samples of my work. He liked what he saw and I was commissioned to design something for her birthday.”
Celine smiled at him. “The world saw it and then every woman wanted jewelry by Zion. You became all the rave.”
“It pays the bills,” he said, trying hard not to stare at how she was licking syrup off her fork.
“Evidently. I love both your condo and this place.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute and then asked, “What do you intend to do today? Unfortunately, there aren’t any shopping malls close by.”
She shrugged. “No problem. I’ve got my laptop with me. You have Wi-Fi here, right?”
Laptop? Why would she need a laptop? “Yes, I have Wi-Fi.”
“Good. If you don’t mind giving me the password I’ll be all set.”
For what? he wondered. And why hadn’t she mentioned anything about their time in bed together? Wrapped in each other’s arms. Connected to each other’s body. Was she not upset that they hadn’t spent the entire night together? That he had left her alone?
“How did you sleep last night?” he asked, refusing to let it go. Refusing to let her forget when he couldn’t.
She smiled again as she piled more eggs onto her plate. “I slept like a baby. That bed was the bomb. I’m glad that’s the bedroom you gave me to use.”
He tried not to glare at her, but stared down at his plate as he began eating. Why was her nonchalant attitude pissing him off? He should be glad it hadn’t bothered her that he’d left her bed after making love to her several times.
They ate in silence and were definitely not acting like two people who’d shared a bed hours ago. Two people who had scorched the sheets. He was programmed to act like he didn’t give a damn—but what was her excuse? And did she have to sit there looking good enough to eat this morning? Beautiful as ever, with every strand of hair in place and her natural beauty almost taking his breath away? Hell, he bet she would look gorgeous even on a bad day. Even on a bad night. But she hadn’t had a bad night. He thought it had been good. All good. Mind-blowing, earth-shattering good. So why wasn’t she annoyed with him instead of being downright friendly?
“I know you want to get started on your work today, so don’t worry about cleaning up the kitchen. I’ll take care of it.”
Was she trying to get rid of him? Rush him off? Why did the thought irritate the hell out of him? “Will you?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure it’s okay?”
“Positive, Zion. That’s the least I can do after all you did.”
He lifted a brow. “All I did?”
“Yes. Breakfast is good.”
“Thanks.” He took a sip of his coffee as a stream of sensations flooded his stomach. Breakfast might be good, but what they’d shared in that bed last night had been over-the-top sensational. She might have pushed all the memories to the back of her mind, but he was determined that tonight, and all the nights that followed, she would never forget.