by Maya Banks
Hot and cold. She could never figure out where she stood with him and it pissed her off. One thing she knew for certain—she wasn’t going to wait around forever while he got his act together.
Fifteen
Cam drove past Pippa’s café to see the open sign go out and lights start to flicker off inside. He gave the voice command to dial Pippa’s cell and then turned to circle the block.
After a few rings, she answered, her breathless voice doing odd things to his insides.
“I’ll just be a minute,” she said by way of greeting.
“No hurry. I’m circling the block. I’ll pull up so you can just come out.”
He maneuvered the SUV through traffic and waited for the light to turn so he could turn back onto her street. He tapped his thumbs impatiently on the steering wheel and he realized that he was anxious to see her again.
It didn’t compute. He had this sick love-hate relationship going on. He wanted to be as far from her as possible. She made him nervous. She looked at him like she could see right past the front he put on.
At the same time, when he was away even a short period of time, he got anxious. He needed to know she was okay, that she had everything she needed. That she was safe. And hell, if he was honest, he just wanted to see her again.
He had to let go of his pain. He had to move on. But how did one ever just decide that sort of thing? At what point did the hurting stop? At what point did one stop being gripped by paralyzing fear over the thought of losing someone you cared about?
He didn’t have the answers, and until he did, this thing between him and Pippa would never work. He didn’t want it to work.
Which didn’t explain why he was circling the block, anxious to see her again. It made no sense. He should be at home. He should have never apologized, though he certainly owed her the apology and more. But he should have let it go, allowed her to remain angry with him. In the end it was kinder to both of them. A clean break. No remorse. No recriminations. No dragging it out only to rehash it all again later.
But he wanted to see her. He wanted… He wanted her. On his own terms. He recognized the selfishness of it and yet he couldn’t stop himself from craving her. In or out of bed. It mattered little to him. He just wanted to be near her because, God help him, he felt more alive whenever she walked into a room.
He slowed as he approached her shop and leaned forward to see if she was waiting. She was at her door, locking up, the wind blowing through her dark hair. Then she turned and he was struck by the picture she presented. Young, vibrant, beautiful.
She saw him and waved, her face lighting up with a gorgeous smile. She hurried forward, one hand cupped to her belly and the other hanging on to her purse. He stopped and leaned over to push open the door for her. She climbed in, melted into the seat with a sweet sigh and then turned that dazzling smile on him.
It was like being kicked in the stomach.
“It is sooo nice to be off my feet,” she said.
Blinking, he realized he was sitting still while angry horns beeped behind him. He eased off the brake and drove away, listening as she talked in animated fashion about her day and how amazing the turnout had been.
His blood hummed with desire. With need. He wanted her. He didn’t want to want her.
He couldn’t process a single rational thought.
Suddenly the thought of spending so much time in a restaurant didn’t appeal. She looked tired. He was impatient. He needed to have her to himself.
“Change in plans,” he said gruffly as he turned left so he could circle back to her apartment.
She roused from her semistupor and shot him an inquisitive glance. “What’s up? You standing me up?”
He smiled at the growl in her voice. “Oh, no, far from it. What I’m doing is taking you back to your place so you can put your feet up on the couch while I order us the best damn steak money can buy. Then I’m going to take you to bed, give you an all-over body massage and make love to you until you pass out.”
Her eyes widened and then she blinked, momentarily speechless. “Well, okay,” she finally said.
He smiled in satisfaction at her acceptance. It was more than okay.
* * *
When Pippa let them into her apartment, the air was electric and heavy with anticipation. She wouldn’t even meet his gaze because she was sure she was an open book, and hey, a woman had to have some mystery, right?
Only it wasn’t a mystery that she wanted him. Or that from the moment he’d laid out his plans for the evening she’d become a quivering ball of anticipation.
She walked ahead of him into the living room, her step lighter than it had been all day. Her fatigue had fled and she felt energized. Ready.
Her skin prickled with tiny goose bumps every time he so much as looked her way. It felt like her very first date. Her very first kiss. The first time she’d ever gotten naked in front of a man. She wasn’t sure whether she liked it or not.
“Why don’t you sit and relax,” he said. “I can find my way around your apartment. I’ll phone in our order and get things started. Would you like something to drink?”
This suddenly very solicitous side of Cam was confusing the hell out of her. She liked this new Cam very, very much and she could get used to it.
It wasn’t as if he was never generous with her. Quite the opposite. He went to great lengths to take care of her needs but he did so as impersonally as possible.
But now his caring seemed very personal. She didn’t know if this was a further attempt to make up for walking out of the sonogram or if he was genuinely softening toward her. Who the hell knew with him?
“I’ll take a bottled water. There’s one in the fridge,” she said as she settled on the couch.
She propped her feet on the ottoman and groaned in sheer pleasure. She leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes while she listened to him putter around the kitchen. Then she heard the rumble of his voice as he placed their dinner order. A moment later, he returned to the living room and handed her the drink.
“Thank you.”
“Your grand opening was quite the success,” he said.
He took a seat in her armchair and propped his feet just inches from hers.
“I owe a lot of my opening day success to you. Maybe all of it.”
He shook his head. “I gave you a place but it was your talent and hard work that made it happen.”
“Thank you for saying that. It means a lot. I’ve been working toward this for a very long time.”
He put his hands behind his head and cupped his nape. “Have you thought about what you’ll do after the baby is born?”
She cocked her head to the side and glanced questioningly at him. “What do you mean?”
“Will you keep your current schedule or will you employ others to run the shop so that you have more time with our son?”
For a moment she couldn’t respond. She was too struck by the reference to their son. And she was reminded that she and Cam weren’t a couple. Of course he would wonder what arrangements she’d made because he wasn’t going to be there on a 24/7 basis.
It shocked her how much that hurt. How much she wanted it to be different.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she said slowly. “A lot will depend on how the café is doing and if I can afford to hire more help. I have to train my assistant so that she can duplicate my recipes while I’m out on maternity leave. But I can’t close down. That’s not even an option.”
“Of course not. If you’ll allow me to help, I can certainly put some feelers out. We have a number of pastry chefs that work in our various hotels. I’m sure we could loan one to you for a few weeks.”
She stared back at him, mouth open. “Cam, you guys own five-star resorts. There is no way I could afford to pay even three weeks’ wages to a world-class pastry chef like the ones you guys employ.”
“He or she would of course remain on our payroll.”
She sighed. “I can�
�t keep relying on you, Cam. I’m only setting myself up to fail miserably. What you’ve done is so wonderful and so helpful but it also skews the results. When all your support goes away, I’ll be left in a lurch.”
He frowned. “No one says it’s going away.”
“I say it’s going away,” she said gently. “I have to make a go of this myself, Cam.”
He didn’t argue, although she had the distinct feeling that he hadn’t dropped the subject for good. Then a completely unrelated thought struck her.
“I didn’t frame my first dollar.”
He blinked in surprise and then seemed puzzled by her dismay.
Her lips turned down into a frown. “You’re supposed to frame the first dollar you make. You know, when you start a business. You didn’t do that with yours?”
“Hell, Pippa, your first sale was probably a debit card purchase. Nobody carries cash anymore. You could always frame the credit card receipt.”
She pulled a face. “You’re such a party pooper. You don’t have your first dollar?”
He shrugged. “I still have my first million.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Does money mean anything at all to you or has it lost its value?”
“Of course it means something.” He scowled, making her almost want to giggle. “It means I can support our child and you. It means I can live comfortably and not worry about where my next meal is coming from. It means you don’t have to worry about your lack of health insurance.”
She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I was being a snot. It was an unfair jab. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not out blowing my cash if that’s what you were wondering.”
Her cheeks warmed and she glanced away. “No, I was just stereotyping you and being flip. I really didn’t mean anything by it. People who don’t have a lot of money tend to not really understand people who do have money. Or their attitude toward money.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “I hope you’re not implying I’m a snob.”
“No,” she said truthfully. “I truly don’t think you’re a snob. You can be a first-class jerk, but not a snob.”
He shot her a glare and she snickered.
The doorbell interrupted and Cam quickly rose to go answer. A moment later, he came back, followed by a delivery person who set up the food on the coffee table. The young man smiled at Pippa and then he and Cam disappeared from the living room once more.
She waited, sniffing appreciatively at the mouthwatering aroma floating from the covered plates. She’d leaned over to take a quick peek when Cam admonished her from the doorway.
“Not so fast.”
She yanked back guiltily.
“Want to eat in here or the kitchen? Are you okay on just the coffee table?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m comfortable. I’ll just lean forward and shovel it all in.”
He chuckled. “Not a pretty image.”
She sniffed disdainfully. “Watching a pregnant woman inhale her food isn’t for sissies.”
He went forward and uncovered the dishes. He poured her a glass of cold water and then shoved the plate across the table so that it was directly in front of her. Then he handed her a steak knife and a fork. “Dig in.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. He’d ordered a filet and it was fork tender. As soon as she took the first bite, she closed her eyes and sighed in sheer pleasure.
“Good?” Cam asked.
“I don’t have words. Best steak I’ve ever put in my mouth.”
He nodded his satisfaction and then sat down to eat his own steak.
They ate in silence, only the clink of forks and knives disturbing the peace. Pippa had been only half kidding about inhaling her food. These days it didn’t seem she could put away enough to eat. Which was just as well because she’d read that in the last trimester, eating was a lot more difficult with a baby’s head lodged in your lungs.
Cam finished his steak before she’d gotten halfway through hers. He went to put away his dishes. When he came back, he sat forward in the armchair and grabbed her plate.
She frowned her protest but he gestured for her to sit back. Then he put the pillows from the end of the couch on her lap and plunked the plate down on it so she could continue eating. Just when she had no idea what he was up to, he lifted her feet and propped them back on the ottoman.
He closed his hands around her left foot and pressed his palm into her instep. She sagged precariously and let out a glorious sigh as pleasure seeped into her muscles.
“How can I eat with you doing that?” she complained.
He smiled. “Easy. Just pick up your fork. You were on your feet all day. They have to be sore.”
She shoved a bite of steak into her mouth and nodded vigorously.
“Well, then, relax and let me take care of the matter for you.”
Oh, hell, yes. She wouldn’t say another word. She’d just sit here and eat her scrumptious steak while the most gorgeous man on earth gave her a foot massage.
“Remember what I promised you?” he murmured.
She stopped chewing and damn near choked as she struggled to swallow the bite. Then she nodded because she couldn’t seem to find her tongue.
As he gripped her heel with one hand, the other stroked over the top of her foot and up her leg, heat from his touch warming her skin.
“As soon as you’re done, I’m taking you to bed, Pippa. How much sleep you get is entirely up to you.”
Oh, hell…
She put aside the plate, unconcerned with whether it tipped over on the couch. He stared at her for a moment as if gauging whether she was ready. If she was any more ready she’d be stripped down and holding a sign saying Take Me.
Sixteen
As soon as Cam pulled Pippa to her feet, adrenaline surged like an electric charge through her veins. For a moment he pulled her close, their bodies touching. His warmth leaped to her and surrounded her. Then he dragged a gentle hand through her hair and leaned down to kiss her.
It was brief, just a brush, but she felt it to her toes. He drew away, his breath harsh in the quiet.
“Your bed,” he said.
Swallowing hard, she started to drop his hand to go past him toward her bedroom, but he tightened his hold and rubbed his thumb over her wrist.
She went ahead of him, pulling him behind her as she crossed the short distance to the steps leading up to the small loft where her bed was. Her legs trembled as she climbed and then came to a halt, the bed in front of her, unsure of what he wanted next.
He moved past her, this time taking her with him. He eased her into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and then unbuttoned her top.
He went down on his knees as he pushed her shirt over her shoulders, baring her lacy bra. His gaze dropped to the swell of her belly and he went still. She held her breath, wondering if the moment was lost, but to her utter shock, he laid his cheek over the bump and turned his mouth just enough to press a kiss to her taut skin.
She inhaled sharply, the bite of emotion harsh in her throat. She slid her fingers through his unruly hair, her touch gentle and loving.
Slowly he pulled away and then he lifted her just enough that he could ease her pants off.
“I promised you a massage,” he said in a husky voice. “I think I’m going to enjoy it more than you will.”
She cast him a doubtful look, but okay, if that’s what he wanted to think. Right now his hands on her body was about as good as it got.
He curled his arms underneath her and lifted so he could position her on her side. Then he unhooked her bra and carefully pulled her panties down her legs so she was naked, facing away from him.
During a long pause, she glanced over her shoulder to see him disrobing a short distance away. He had a gorgeous, lean body. He wasn’t pretty or polished. There was just enough edge to his appearance to send her girlie senses into overdrive.
He strode back to the bed and got on his knees behind
her. When his hand slid over her hip, then wandered to her back and shoulder, she closed her eyes and sighed in contentment.
His mouth followed, pressing hot against her neck and then gliding over the curve to her shoulder. When he pulled away, he put both hands to her back and gently began to stroke and caress until her eyes rolled back in her head.
He worked methodically, leaving no part of her flesh untouched. He stroked down to her buttocks, molding the plump globes with his palms before working lower to her thighs.
Nudging her over onto her back, he lifted one leg and began working the muscles with those to-die-for hands. He worked all the way down to her ankle and then began massaging her foot.
She floated somewhere else, hovering on a cloud of sensory overload. Then he lifted her foot and kissed her instep. She nearly lost it right there. It was the most erotic sensation she’d ever experienced and it was just her foot! But the man made every single touch so damn sexy.
He moved to her other leg but she was only dimly aware. She let out a blissful sigh and surrendered to the euphoric sensation of having a sinfully handsome man cater to her every pleasure.
Each caress sent warmth all the way to her soul. She opened her eyes and watched in fascination as he rose over her, gently parting her thighs before settling his upper body between them.
For a brief moment he glanced up and those sizzling blue eyes connected with hers. His mouth crooked up into a half smile and then he lowered his head to her most intimate flesh.
She couldn’t call back the moan. She twisted restlessly but he kept her firmly in place with those hands at her hips. He kissed, licked and made love to her with that delectable mouth. He had such a talented tongue and he was driving her crazy.
She reached for his hair, twisting her fingers with almost desperate strength as she arched into him. He delved deeper with his tongue, loving her with long, lazy strokes. Then he moved one hand from her hip and slid his fingers deep into her warmth.
It was more than she could withstand. She bowed beneath him, tightening to the point of near pain and then she reached her peak in a quick, tumultuous burst.
He tenderly kissed the quivering bundle of nerves, eliciting another shudder from her before he moved his mouth up to her belly to lavish gentle attention on it. His hands molded to the swell and there was such reverence in his touch that she had to swallow back the knot forming in her throat.
She wanted to believe so very much that he was coming around. That maybe he was beginning to let go of his past, but she was afraid to broach the subject. Afraid of his rejection. And she couldn’t be patient and understanding. She wasn’t going to wait around forever for him to decide he wanted to fight for their future.
“Tell me if I hurt you.”
He shifted upward, positioning himself between her thighs. He held his weight off her with one palm pressed to the mattress while he used his other hand to guide his erection to her opening.
Tentatively he pressed forward, his gaze never leaving her face as he probed deeper. She pulsed around him, still hypersensitive after her orgasm. As he pushed even deeper, she closed her eyes and dug her fingers into his muscled shoulders.
“Too much?” he asked.
She opened her eyes to see him eyeing her with concern.
“Oh, no,” she whispered. “Not enough.”
His pupils dilated. His jaw tightened and bulged and he drew in a deep breath as if he were trying valiantly to maintain control.