A Fine Line Page 6

  Rich turned to Chloe and said, “Welcome to my home away from home. Give me a half hour and I’ll take you to your hotel where you can freshen up. Then we’ll grab a late dinner.”

  She looked around. Opulent was hardly the word for what she saw. She’d seen such places in magazines, but to stand in the middle of such a room was overwhelming. Ancient artifacts adorned the blue-green walls. Like a child, she found herself touching everything. Between the living room and the dining room was a fish tank that went from the floor to the ceiling. Several colorful fish came to watch her. She trailed her finger across the glass and they followed it. The dining room walls were blue mirrored-glass. In the middle of the room sat a huge black table inlaid with bits of pale blue stones and mother-of-pearl.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She jumped.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She turned around and looked at him casually dressed in a pair of slacks and a short-sleeved knit shirt. They had spent the whole day barely speaking except for business or polite exchanges. Ever since the plane touched down in Texas, his demeanor had changed, always the gentleman but more brusque. Her eyes scanned the rooms one more time. “Quite a nice place you have.”

  “I’m here more than I want to be. Follow me.”

  He had put her in a four-star hotel. As soon as she was settled, and had changed, they had dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. They talked mostly about the project, but when they parted that night, she knew she had made a terrible mistake.

  Or maybe it’s been a series of mistakes? Where do I start? Do I say I’m sorry and why? She knew she had been a typical teenager, but that was no excuse for being mean. She was taught to be nice to everyone and not to judge a book by its cover, but that was exactly what she had done. She could have been polite, instead she made fun of him every chance she had. Now look at him. She looked into his kaleidoscope eyes and saw someone who was there all along, except he was hidden behind a few flaws. Maybe in her own way she niggled him because she was attracted to him and was too afraid to be nice.

  Now it was too late, especially after the way she treated him in North Dakota. I was just as cruel as I’d been as a teen. That wonderful sweet kiss he had given her still lingered on her lips even though he had cut it short. What am I going to do?

  ***

  At seven a.m. Chloe’s cell phone rang. She knew exactly who it was. “Good morning.”

  “You sound awake. Why don’t you open your door? I hate standing in hallways,” Rich said.

  She opened her door and clicked her phone off. “Hi, what time did you want to leave?”

  “You’re obviously not ready.”

  She shrugged. “Might as well come in and wait for me. I won’t take but a few minutes.”

  “You didn’t bring anything nice with you. The next time you are on a trip with me, make sure you have something for evening. Always be prepared.”

  “You told me clothes appropriate for running around in farm fields and that’s what I brought.”

  “I think you’re wearing the nicest thing you have with you. I like the way it clings and drapes.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “Okay, I’ll admit I prefer you naked.” He shot her a wicked grin.

  “Do you really? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” She turned to the contents of her suitcase, then looked over her shoulder at him. “Strange, I’ve never seen you naked.”

  He grinned. “I wasn’t the one who was sick.”

  “Ah, yes. The excuse for ogling.”

  “It kept me honorable.” His expression had changed from playful to serious.

  “If that’s the case, what would you do if I peeled off my pajamas right now?”

  He reached out, grabbed her arm, pulled her tight to him and then whispered in her ear, “I’d turn my back to you and try to be the gentleman that I was raised to be.”

  His warm breath filled her ear and flowed down her neck. It tickled her nipples and pooled between her legs. She gripped him, trying to stabilize her mind along with her body. When she dared to open her eyes, she gazed deeply into his. She stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his lips.

  He accepted her kiss and kissed her back. It was the same warm tender kiss that they had previously exchanged. When she broke her lips from his, tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped them with the back of her hands before she spoke, “I’m so sorry for all the years of grief. You didn’t deserve it.”

  “Get dressed, Chloe, before I do something stupid that we’d both regret.”

  “I’m not a kid, and what makes you think we’d regret it?”

  “Maybe you wouldn’t, but I would.”

  “Be that way.” She stomped off to the bathroom and when she returned, she was wrapped in a towel.

  He made a face and turned facing the wall.

  “Are you afraid?” she asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then turn around and look at me.” She held her breath and watched his every muscle. Her stomach tightened. Her fingers clenched the towel tighter than necessary.

  Slowly he faced her.

  She assembled her courage, dropped her towel, and then waited for his reaction. His stare warmed her body as she stepped into her panties and slipped on her bra. She pulled on a sleeveless tank top and a pair of shorts. When she was done, she walked over to him and handed him a container of sunscreen.

  “I could use a little help, do you mind?”

  He took the container, put some on her back, then down her arms and on both legs. “Face, too?”

  She nodded and allowed him to apply it. His touch was feather soft. She wanted to ask him to do it all over again because it felt too good. He handed her the container.

  “You still want to play games. They weren’t funny then and they aren’t any more amusing, now.” There was a bitter edge to his words.

  “I wasn’t playing a game.”

  “So what sport was there in dropping your towel?”

  “Simple. Now you no longer have to feel as if what you’ve seen was clandestine. I’ve willingly showed you.”

  A small grin began to tug at his face. “So when do I get to touch?”

  She ignored his question. “Wash your hands, or your breakfast will taste like my sunscreen.”

  “And what do I get to touch?”

  She followed him to her bathroom door, and leaned against the door jam. “What do you want to touch?”

  “More than I should.” He grinned at her in the mirror.

  “I want a truthful answer.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “I already gave it to you. It’s time for breakfast.”

  Her entire body felt as if he’d ignited her blood, except it wasn’t hatred that was fueling it. What was it about him that created such fire in her?

  ~~~ Six ~~~

  An hour and a half later, they were in a field under the blazing sun. Heat never really bothered him, but he would have preferred to be back in North Dakota. He watched Chloe taking pictures and become excited about this project. This was what he wanted. He knew that her enthusiasm would carry back to her office and to those on her team. They went back to his place and ordered in lunch while they sat at their computers and worked. By four that afternoon, he pushed his computer aside and stretched out on the sofa.

  “I’m getting hungry, what about you?” Chloe asked.

  When he didn’t answer she went to investigate. She touched his cheek and knew instantly what the problem was. Sound asleep and burning with a fever, he had apparently caught whatever it was that she’d had. She almost laughed at him. It took her a moment to find his keys and then take off for her hotel room. She cleared it out and checked out, but before returning to his place, she stopped at the pharmacy and stocked up on several supplies. The concierge helped her bring everything upstairs and was very helpful.

  She expected to find Rich still asleep on the sofa, but he had vanished. In his bedroom, she found him spread acros
s a bed with only a towel wrapped around him. He had to have been at least fifty to sixty pounds heavier than her and moving him was going to be impossible. She snooped around in his closet and drawers until she found his underwear, a neatly folded pile of pure silk boxers with a designer label.

  “Dickie! Come on! Wake up! I need you to do this.”

  He mumbled something and started to roll over. With some effort, she managed to get him between the sheets and out of the damp towel, but she still hadn’t gotten him into his boxers. She slipped them over his feet and managed to get them to his mid-thighs. At some point, it dawned on her that she had now seen a little more of him than was intended. Not like I’ve never seen a man before – every guy has the same equipment. She pushed him again, and finally got his boxers up.

  She fixed a glass of ice water and dropped two tablets into her hand. She noted the time before returning to his room. She cupped his head in the crook of her arm and got him to take the medicine. The shoe was now on the other foot and she wondered how he’d feel about that.

  She sorted through her clothes and did some laundry including his things. Mixed into her clothes was the undershirt he had used to cover her. She had no recollection of how he managed to put it on her. In fact, she had almost no memory of the entire ordeal. Vaguely she remembered being so thirsty and how much it hurt to swallow.

  She fixed him a cup of ice chips, took it to him, and managed to spoon a few chips in his mouth. It must have been easier in that line shack because I was always in view. Here I have to keep running back to him. She stuck the thermometer in his ear and this time it said he had dropped a degree. She remembered her mom saying to let a fever burn at a hundred and one degrees, but she had no idea how her mother managed to do that.

  She found his washcloth and wiped him. He was starting to sweat. The fever is breaking. This is good. She wiped his forehead and stared at his body. The skinny kid in him was gone, replaced with a man’s body. Tall, lean, and definitely ripped, she admired him. Guess he can afford a personal trainer or maybe it comes as a perk when you’re vice-president of a company. She wanted to run her hands over him and follow his kite tail to the soft bulge below, but she didn’t. He said he didn’t do it to me. She searched her memory and was certain that he never touched her. The memory of her contact with him was blurred, but enough of it remained that she would have remembered anything inappropriate.

  She left him long enough to email corporate to have them cancel their flights and to let them know that they would be delayed. She tossed some popcorn in the microwave, then ate a few handfuls before trashing the rest. After taking a shower, she put on her clean pajamas, thankful for his high capacity washer and dryer. Her next question was where to sleep. The cabin contained several beds in the same room, but this room only contained one. If she slept in the other bedroom, she wouldn’t hear him and she wanted to be close.

  She pondered the situation for a few minutes and gave herself a good pep talk. Then decided the only option that made sense was to stay with him. She stayed on her side of the king bed, but she reached over and put her hand on his chest. It felt so natural as if it belonged there. His musky scent filled her nostrils and went straight to her heart. She stayed at his side and tended to his every need until he was feeling better.

  She was sitting beside him running her fingers through his silky hair when his eyes opened. He smiled at her.

  “I need to get up,” he said.

  She scooted off the bed and watched him as he made his way to the bathroom. When he returned he had brushed his teeth, shaved, and combed his hair before lying down again.

  “So how many days did I lose?” He rested one arm over his head.

  “Last night and most of today.” She smiled as she stared into his colorful eyes. Warmth filled her and she resisted the urge to lean over and kiss him.

  “I feel like crap.”

  “To be honest, I still don’t feel very chipper.” She reached for the thermometer.

  “What the heck are you trying to do?” He grabbed her wrist and stared at the gizmo in her hand.

  “I’m going to take your temperature. It works in your ear.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, and I’m in charge until this proves otherwise, so be still.” She stuck the thing in his ear and listened for the beep.

  “Ninety-nine point seven, you’re almost normal. But I doubt that you have ever been normal.” She touched his face. “The beard really intensified the sexy factor, but this is so much softer.”

  “Now I’m sexy?”

  She stuck her tongue out, then stretched out on her tummy next to him. “You were darn sick. I borrowed your car.”

  “What for?”

  “I cleared out my hotel room and stopped at the pharmacy.”

  “Where did you sleep?”

  “With you.” She snuggled into his side. “Dickie, I liked taking care of you.”

  He put his arm around her and pulled her up over him. “It’s very dangerous sleeping with me.”

  “Ah, but the Dickie I know is a gentleman.” She wiggled her hips against him. Satisfaction filled her when she realized the effect she had on him.

  “That’s because I was too sick.” Warm mint breath flowed with his words.

  She stared into his kaleidoscope eyes and savored the feel of his body. “What’s your excuse now?”

  “I guess I don’t have one.” He rolled her off and got up. “My throat is still parched and my nurse seems to have forgotten that I might need a drink.”

  She watched him as he slipped his robe on and tied it, but it still didn’t hide his erection. She followed him into the kitchen and asked, “What would you like?”

  He opened the refrigerator and withdrew a single serving size container of orange juice. “Want one?”

  “No, I’m fine. Are you going to take a shower?”

  “Yes. Do I stink?”

  She giggled. “You smell like a man who has been sweating, slightly musky and laden in pheromones.”

  “Oh, you must be desperate.” He chuckled.

  “I am not.” She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans to keep from balling them into fists.

  “When was the last time you had any?”

  “Any what?” she asked.

  “Sex.”

  “That’s none of your business.” She really didn’t like the question and didn’t like the smirk on his face either.

  He took a long swig from his bottle of juice. “Three years ago when your husband ditched you?”

  “No.” Ire rose in her over his attitude. It was as if he knew her too well.

  He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t believe you.”

  She pushed her hair back from her forehead and wondered if she wore a neon sign that said she was lying. It had been more than three years. She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “You first.”

  “Hmm.” He trashed the empty plastic container and poured a cup of coffee. “April. It was expensive, but I think I got my money’s worth.” He gave her a Cheshire cat smile.