Shoving away the nagging thoughts, he put his Black-Berry away and studied Amanda’s profile as the taxi neared her apartment building. She had her face turned toward the window, apparently enthralled by the gently falling snow or the bustle of pedestrians. More likely ignoring him.
Except for Amanda Crawford, women didn’t ignore him.
He could feel her putting distance between them. In fact, he had felt the chill since they’d boarded the train to Grand Central Terminal. She’d wanted him to stay in Greenwich, let her travel home alone. But he always saw his women to the door.
The only downside to the weekend was when they’d said good-bye three hours ago, after Sunday brunch. His mother had been wearing a smug smile that told him she was already planning a wedding. His and Amanda’s.
That wasn’t going to happen, but she refused to believe him no matter how many times he’d told her he spent too much time dealing with the financial fallout caused by nasty divorces to be interested in signing up for that headache. It concerned him that his mother had bonded so quickly with Amanda. But that was partially his fault. He’d never taken a woman home before.
The taxi pulled to a stop at 721 Park Avenue. Alex climbed from the car and turned to hand Amanda out of the vehicle. The sight of her long legs beneath a short cashmere dress hit him, along with memories of her kneeling above him in bed, wrapped around him in the shower and stretched out on the rug in front of his fireplace. His heart kicked into overdrive.
He stepped to the back of the car, paid the driver and took Amanda’s suitcase from the cabbie before she could reach it.
“Alex, there’s no need to walk me up. Take the taxi back to the station.”
“We need to discuss Zack’s party. I want to know what you and my mother cooked up when she banished the men of the house to play billiards.”
Amanda hugged her coat tighter around her middle. Snowflakes settled on her fuzzy pink knit hat. “Nothing earth-shattering, but she and Zack gave me some ideas to work with. We have plenty of time to plan his birthday. Your company party is a different story. You change the subject every time I bring that up.”
“Correction—I’ve put the event in your capable hands and I trust you with the details.”
“I know you said you wanted me to handle everything, but I’d really like your input on a few items. Carte blanche sounds like a good idea to an event planner, but I’ve learned the hard way those kinds of events rarely live up to the expectations of the one who’s footing the bill. You have expectations whether you realize it or not.”
Since he wasn’t ready to say good-night, he’d play along. “We’ll grab a couple of coffees and your favorite chocolate muffins, and you can tell me what else you’ve come up with.”
Talking wasn’t all he intended to do. The minute she finished her muffin he’d untie the knot at the waist of her plum colored dress and unwrap her, one pale, delicious inch at a time. If he could wait that long.
His hunger for her these past three months had bordered on an obsession. Why hadn’t having her—repeatedly—lessened his need? It was a weakness he wouldn’t tolerate, and that meant getting past it.
Amanda’s less-than-enthusiastic expression would give a less confident man performance anxiety. But he knew he pleased her in bed. She wasn’t shy about expressing her pleasure or asking for what she needed. And that turned him on like nothing else.
“It’s been a long weekend, Alex. I need to prepare for the upcoming week and—”
“Invite me up, Amanda.”
Her lips parted at his gruff tone. She held his gaze. He could tell she was considering refusing. He stepped closer, invading her space, and nudged his thigh against hers, earning a gratifying hitch of her breath.
“Fine. You can come up for a few minutes.”
They made a quick, silent detour to Park Café and then returned to her building. The doorman watched them from the moment they entered, his narrowed gaze falling on Amanda’s suitcase in Alex’s hand.
“Hello, Henry,” Amanda greeted him.
The doorman nodded. “Good afternoon, Ms. Crawford, Mr. Harper.”
Alex nodded a greeting and escorted Amanda across the white marble-floored lobby and around the doorman’s desk. He had learned to trust his first impressions of people and there was something about the man’s eyes and body language that bothered him.
Amanda looked up at Alex as they crossed the lobby. “I cannot get over how much your brother looks like you. It’s almost as if he’s a carbon copy. He has your coloring, your gestures and even a similar speech pattern.”
The back of Alex’s neck prickled. She had spent a lot of time with Zack. Had she guessed the truth? “We’re brothers. Siblings have similarities.”
“Since I don’t have any brothers or sisters I wouldn’t know. You both look exactly like your mother. I couldn’t find any trace of your father in either you or Zack.”
He didn’t want to pursue this conversation. He hit the elevator call button since her hands were full with the coffee and muffin bag and her oversize tote bag.
“Did I tell you how much I enjoyed having you in my bed all weekend?” He leaned toward her and pitched his voice low so Henry couldn’t overhear.
Her breath caught and desire expanded her pupils, igniting a burn in his gut. She darted a quick glance over his shoulder toward the doorman’s desk and then hit him with a small naughty smile that knocked the air from his lungs. “You might have mentioned it. Once or twice.”
Hunger pulsed through him. “I want to stay tonight, Amanda.”
Her cheeks flushed. The elevator doors opened. She hustled into the car, pivoted on her spike-heeled ankle boots and faced him as the doors closed. “You have to stop doing that. We’re temporary, remember?”
He stroked her jaw with a fingertip and then bent to sip from her lips once, twice, a third time. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He drew back until only the tips of their noses touched.
“Stop telling you I want you? Or stop spending the night? I’m not moving in, Amanda. I want to be lost in you again. We’re good together.”
Her head tipped back to rest against the wall. Staring up at him, she swallowed, licked her lips and inhaled a shuddery breath.
“You can stay tonight. But, Alex, when your party ends, we end. Okay? I’m not looking for forever. And neither are you. Let’s not try to make something out of this temporary diversion that it’s not. Your parents already think…Well, you’re going to have to convince them that it’s not going to happen.”
Interesting to be on the receiving end of that comment for a change. Interesting. But not enjoyable. “No. It’s not. I don’t do marriage.”
He wanted her for more than a few weeks, but he’d worry about changing her mind later. At the most they’d last a few months. He’d never met a woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Not even Zack’s mother. Especially not Zack’s mother. Chelsea Brooks was one devious, deceitful, greedy bitch. Too bad he hadn’t known that before their affair.
But Amanda wasn’t like Chelsea in any way. He leaned as close as the carrier of coffee Amanda held between them would allow and lowered his head. She met him halfway. Her lips parted and her tongue met his. Silky, slick, seductive. Need rose within him. He angled his head to deepen the kiss. Her scent filled his nose. Releasing her suitcase, he burrowed his hands beneath her heavy coat to the warmth of her waist and dug his fingers into the soft cashmere of her dress. His palms wicked up her heat, spreading it up his arms and through his torso.
A few months of this would be enough.
It would have