Jennifer Greene - Irresistible Stranger

Eventually frogs got around to burping again. Owls restarted their hoot thing. Maybe those sounds had been happening before, but she hadn’t heard them. She hadn’t heard or seen anything but Griff.

“We can’t ever do this again,” she murmured regretfully.

His brow raised. “Hmm. I could have sworn you were having a good time a few moments ago.”

“Oh. I was. But that’s just the thing. We keep doing this, you’ll have permanently ruined me for anyone else. Before you, I was perfectly happy thinking that making love was a nice thing to share between two people who really, really care about each other.”

His eyebrows raised again. “And now you don’t think that?”

“Of course not. You’re ruining me, like I said. I didn’t know it could be…you know. Insane. Crazy. Wanting so much you hurt. Needing so much you can’t breathe. Flying over the moon so high you don’t need wings. That kind of thing.”

“All right. If you’re willing to get into that deep, dark confession territory-I have to admit, I’ve always been fond of sex.”

“No kidding?”

He tugged her hair. Gently. “But I can’t say I’ve ever experienced what we’ve been doing. The incendiary thing. The starting a fire that turns into an explosive, hot, uncontrollable thing. The wanting you beyond being able to think or speak or even care if the rest of the world were falling in.”

“See what I was saying? We just can’t do this again. It’s too dangerous.”

“You don’t think there’s any other answer?”

“Well…maybe we could just stay here. Right here. On this raft. Forever.”

She didn’t mean any of it of course, because she was a practical, serious, responsible person, always had been, always would be. But just then…she meant every word. She loved the banter. Loved the roll of his voice, the hush of it, the promise of it. She loved his tenderness. Who knew? That a man so full of the devil could have that much tenderness? Could show it?

Could share it.

She started to say something-then heard the buzz, saw the mosquito, and fast, slapped Griff’s shoulder.

“Uh-oh. Is the love affair over already?” he complained.

“I was helping you. I killed the mosquito before it got you.”

“Well, shoot. I thought we were both pretty well coated up with bug spray-but I suspect if they’re starting to land, we’d better get out of here.”

“Are you going to let me pole back?”

“Sugar, I’d let you do anything you wanted, anything you asked for. Just try me.”

“Oh, good. Because I was rethinking that jewelry business. I’ve never been that fond of diamonds, but I do like amethysts. All the colors of amethyst, purples and greens, the whole lot. Oh. And opals. I’ve never seen an opal I didn’t lust after. Rings, earrings, necklaces, bracelets…” He may or may not have noticed that she never wore jewelry, but roleplaying a greedy golddigger kept him chuckling as she poled them back.

It was fun. Figuring out how to make the raft move via the pole took a certain rhythm to figure out, but then it was like…dancing. Gliding into the darkness, with the white-silver ridge behind them, and the snowy moon speckling light through the leaves.

For tonight, Griff had done the impossible-made her forget fears and worries, fires and frauds. Not completely. But somehow, when she was with Griff, she believed everything would ultimately come out all right.

If that belief was irrational, she didn’t care.

When they reached shore, he tied up the raft, grabbed the armload of gear he’d brought, and still managed to find a hand to hold hers, climbing back up to the car. “You’re coming home with me tonight.”

He didn’t phrase it like a question, but she answered it that way. “Not a good idea.”

“Why.”

“Because…I need fresh clothes. I don’t have anything but what I’m wearing.”

“I’ve got a shirt you can put on. And a washer and dryer just like everyone else.”

“Louella will worry if I don’t come home. The darned woman waits up.”

“So you can phone her.”

“I can’t phone her! Then she’ll know I’m sleeping with you!”

“Ah. The puritan streak surfaces. But we can still solve that. I’ll phone her and tell her some lie. Like that you fell asleep while we were watching a Walt Disney movie, so I just let you crash on my couch.” He paused, apparently saw the “no” was still on her face. “Okay, sugar. Now what’s the real reason you don’t want to sleep over?”

“Because.” She climbed into the car seat, curled up, and strapped on the seat belt with a major yawn.

When he climbed in the other side, he reached over, kissed her, turned the key, and then resumed their mature conversation. “Because why?”

“Do I have to have a reason? Can’t a girl just say no?”

“Of course you can. But I won’t stop badgering you until you give me one.”

“Come on, Griff. The first time I met you, I told you to stay away from me. People love you here. And you’ve been standing by me, which I appreciate. But I don’t want you hurt by being with me. By being associated with me.”

He shot out on the highway. “I had a feeling it was a really dumb reason like that.”

“It’s not dumb.”

“You’re not dumb. You’re plenty smart. But that is a dumb reason. We’re in the South, sugar. A few are still concerned about who won the War of Aggression. But even if we don’t talk about it, grown-ups are generally allowed to be in love. To love. And if anyone had a problem with that, I wouldn’t want to know them. Or for you to waste your time on them. And-”

“And what?”

“And if you come home with me, we can take a shower together. You saw my shower room. It has seats. You can choose pulsing spray or rain or jets or any other speed of water you want. Any temperature you want. I’ve got towels thicker than your finger-”

“Stop.” She put her hand over her ears. “I can’t stand this level of temptation.”

“Good,” he murmured and took her home.

Griff knew what a long day she’d had. As he ushered her inside, his thought was a soothing soaker for them both, after which he’d pour her into bed.

That wasn’t his preferred plan. Ideally he’d make love to her again-maybe twice. His body was inspired to replicate the extraordinary experience on the raft-on a comfortable mattress. But that was pretty damned selfish. There was always the morning.

And the next morning.

And the next morning after that.

“Griff…” She yawned as she stumbled in behind him. “I see the blinking light on your machine. You’ve got messages.”

“They’ll wait.” He switched on a living room lamp, only to illuminate their path back to his room. He’d turned off his cell, knew she’d turned off hers for a few hours that evening. Surely they were safe from any more emergencies or catastrophes for a few hours. He needed that time with her.

It was still rattling in his head-an awareness that all the sweet talk after making love hadn’t been sweet talk. Not for him. He was hooked.

He’d never been hooked. In lust, a million times. In crush, more than a million. In love. Real love. Never.

The sensation was damn near terrorizing.

Abruptly, he heard her shriek coming from down the hall, and had to grin.

“Come on. You’ve seen the bathroom before.”

“I wouldn’t care if I’d seen it a dozen times. That’s not the point! The point is that I’m living with you forever! That’s it! Don’t argue with me! Nothing and no one will ever make me leave you!”

“Yeah, yeah. Now you talk big. But the first time I snore you’ll probably run for the hills.” He pushed off shoes, switched on the bedside lamp, pulled off his shirt-but she wasn’t paying any attention to him.

She was still shrieking and crowing from his bathroom. “This is sinful. You should be ashamed! Talk about sybaritic. Talk about-”

“Don’t be so shy. Tell me what you really think.” The bedroom, truth to tell, wasn’t much. He never spent much time there. The mattress was the best money could buy, the sheets high quality, but otherwise, it was just a big room that did a good job of shutting out noise and distractions. Back when he’d been a serious insomniac.

That had been part of his motivation for the fancy shower. De-tensing wasn’t easy for him. Everyone thought he was a low-key guy-everyone except Lily, anyway. The reality was that he used to walk the floor at nights, so tired he couldn’t think, yet still unable to sleep. He told her about that.

“Sounds like pretty serious insomnia,” she said.

“It was. One time, I went three days without sleep. I started to get downright weird.”

“Of course you did.”

He frowned, unsure how she’d sort of manipulated things. He’d barely stepped in the bathroom before she was pulling off his shirt, peeling down his shirt, looking up at him with a grin that…well, hell. Obviously he was aroused again. He could have nailed railroad spikes with the hammer strength of his hard-on. That was her doing. He was trying to be good.

She’d raved about his bathroom before, but he figured she might be laying it on thick because she was Lily, and she knew he loved the damned room. The core structure was white marble and lapis-nice, but the big to-do was the shower room. The glass wall overlooked the ravine. It was fun as hell, being naked, feeling like you were in the open. Every bird in the county could see you-maybe raccoons, if they could climb high enough. But there were no houses or humans with that kind of visibility.

The other three walls of the shower were redwood, as were the long, layout benches. The shower had a double step-down, so you could soak feet, or sit in waist-high water…or you could just stand there and do the shower thing, choose either a deluge or tropic storm or spring rain, depending on the force of water you wanted.