So of course she said, “I’m sorry. That’s a hard place to be. Do you want to talk about it? About her? Sometimes talking it over with someone, things aren’t as hopeless as they seem.” She couldn’t seem to shut up, hell-bent on atoning for her lust. “Maybe I could help you figure out a way to win her over—you know, another woman’s perspective.”
She bit into the pizza, finding something else to do with her mouth other than babble on. Simon regarded her over the rim of his wineglass, his expression indecipherable. “You’re offering aid with my dismal love life?”
It could prove to be just the cure she needed to get over this … thing for him. She nodded and swallowed. “Sure. Why not?”
He placed his empty glass on the table. “That’s generous, but she’s unavailable.”
Ouch. “She’s married?”
“No. But she’s in a serious relationship.”
That merely irritated her. Was Simon truly in love or was it the unavailability factor? People, especially men, always wanted what they couldn’t have. Put a taboo label on it and they had to have it.
“Until she says I do, she’s not unavailable. You’ve got to decide how important she is to you. If you’re willing to forego other relationships, she must matter a lot. Wake up, Simon, and smell the coffee. What’re you gonna do? Sit around in some weird celibate state—”
“I never mentioned celibacy.” Simon tried to pull a haughty look on her.
Tawny rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. If you won’t date a woman because you don’t want to be unfair, then you’re certainly not sleeping with anyone.” Alarming how much that pleased her. So of course she worked even harder to push him. “You’re gonna moon around in a celibate state for a couple of years or even the rest of your life because she’s in a relationship but not married? How bad do you want her?”
“With every fiber of my being.”
His quiet intensity sent a shiver down her spine and pierced her heart. What was wrong with her? Who he wanted and how much he wanted her had nothing to do with Tawny.
“Then it’s time for you to fish or cut bait.”
“THANKS FOR YOUR ADVICE to the lovelorn. I’ll keep the ‘fish or cut bait’ in mind.”
Wasn’t that twisted? The object of his unrequited affection—and hence intense guilt, as she was engaged to his best friend—sat across the table, bathed in candlelight, wearing a sexy halter top and shorts and advising him to put a move on her. At least, that’s what he’d interpreted her charming colloquialism to mean.
Tawny topped off her wineglass and refilled his at the same time. “Well, I think you should go for it. What have you got to lose?”
What did he have to lose if he went for her right now? “Really nothing, other than those small matters of pride and self-esteem.”
“It’s pretty hard to wrap your arms around those and snuggle up to them. Or enjoy a glass of wine or a candlelit bubble bath with them either.”
He struggled to keep his expression one of sardonic amusement while inside her words played out in his head as snapshots of the two of them. The irony of sharing a glass of wine with her in candlelight nearly slayed him. He was an absolute masochist to participate in this conversation. Bugger that, he was a masochist to even be here.
“But a glass of wine sooner or later is gone, eventually the candles burn out, and the water grows cold, so perhaps one has to make the more long-lasting choice.”
“Except that life is fleeting. Tomorrow may not come before the wine stops flowing or the water cools.”
“Am I in the company of a hedonist?” he asked, very clearly recalling his recent introduction to Tiny, Enrico and Bob, her on-demand boyfriends.
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Life is short and it’s a shame to waste opportunities. This woman could be the love of your life and you’re letting her slip away. And who knows? She may feel the same way about you.” He really was a pathetic sod. He was flattered she didn’t consider him so repugnant she couldn’t imagine a woman attracted to him. “Maybe she just doesn’t know it yet. Or she could be shy and afraid to tell you.”
Simon laughed. Neither of those came to mind in a Tawny word-association exercise. Other than her aversion to the dark, she’d never displayed either characteristic. “I don’t think shy or fear are factors when it comes to my lady.”
Tawny leaned her elbow on the table and pursed her lips, tapping one finger against the corner of her mouth as she eyed him consideringly. She had a truly lovely mouth, full but without the collagen bloat so popular these days.
“Well, maybe this is some kind of courtly love.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s it. You know, chivalry and all. Knights only loved their ladies from afar. Maybe you’re just afraid to declare yourself because you aren’t truly physically attracted to her. Maybe you wouldn’t know what to do with her if she actually reciprocated your attraction,” she said. She crossed her arms as if she’d neatly solved a little puzzle.
His boyhood days of envisioning himself as a bold knight were long gone. There was nothing courtly or chivalrous about the maelstrom of emotion she evoked in him. He absolutely burned for her. And he’d had enough of her speculation. It was time for this conversation to end. He knew one sure way to kill the conversation and prove to her just how far removed he was from her romanticized notions.
He traced his finger along the edge of his glass and smiled at her across the table, offering her a glimpse of the dark passion seething beneath his surface. “I don’t know about courtly love.” He chose his next words very deliberately—crude and base—to make a point. “I do know I would fuck her senseless for a week, given half a chance.”
Her eyes grew huge and she swallowed hard, but she didn’t look away. “Oh. Senseless … a week … well, then.”
Okay. Perhaps he’d gone a bit over the top there. “I apologize if I shocked you.”
She raised her chin. “I’m not shocked at all. I think all that passion is … well, hot. I’m not sure there’s a woman alive who wouldn’t want to know a man was so hot for her he’d like to—” she paused and emphasized the very words he’d uttered “—fuck her senseless for a week. As long as somewhere in the week he wanted to work a little conversation and getting to know her into the sexathon.”
Far from offensive, it sounded sexy and exciting when she threw his words back at him. Especially when she drawled it in that low, honeyed tone with a glint in her eye that spoke more to interest and arousal.
Simon was knee-deep in muck but apparently lacked enough sense to stop wading. “I’ve never operated solely from a state of lust. Her brain and her personality are half the appeal. Otherwise I’d only want her for half a week. And I wouldn’t worry about senseless.”
Her naughty smile wrecked him. “You are wicked, Simon Thackeray.”
Forget muck. This felt like dangerous sexual flirting and he needed to stop. And he would. Soon. He leaned forward, drawn by the heat in her eyes, lured by her smile. “Perhaps my love languishes unrequited because I’m too wicked to love.”
She shifted forward, her knee brushed his and the contact surged through him. A seductive smile curved her lush mouth. “I seriously doubt that. Don’t you know that all that wickedness just drives women to distraction?”
All he truly knew was that she drove him beyond distraction. Beyond caution. “Are you speaking from personal experience?”
“The last time I checked, I was a woman, so I suppose so.” There was something in her eyes. Something that said she knew how utterly wicked he could be and she liked it, despite herself.
Which