Secret Fantasy

“Remember I told you I was engaged?” Her voice and the topic she chose took him by surprise, but he managed a nod.

“What I didn’t tell you was there were no sparks.” She released his fly and the rasping sound echoed in his ears.

He clenched his fists at his sides.

“No excitement.” Her hands went to the waistband on his jeans. “No real desire.”

She paused—thank God—because he needed to hear everything she said, words as well as inflection, and he couldn’t do that if she was undressing him. And he couldn’t stop her or the topic of conversation would turn and he’d never get this insight into Juliette.

Insight he wanted for personal, not professional, reasons. No agenda involved. He wanted to hear what she had to say because he needed to know the source of her pain. And he wanted to make it go away. Not because it was his so-called fantasy, but because he was on the verge himself.

On the verge of falling for her, hard, deep and fast. A first he had no clue how to handle. “I can’t imagine any man not wanting you.” He spoke, Doug realized, with his heart. And that particular organ began to pound harder inside his chest.

She bit down on her lower lip. “Then don’t imagine it, just trust me. He didn’t want me. And I thought it was my fault,” she said softly. “I’d been through something similar once before and it just reinforced the feelings. A man couldn’t want me, just what I could give him or do for him.”

Doug’s journalistic instincts kicked in

, telling him he was seconds away from the truth. She could very well admit her secrets, yet the adrenaline flowing through his system had nothing to do with his ultimate goal and everything to do with her distant, hurt expression.

He touched her cheek. “You have to know I want you.”

“I do.” A smile lifted her lips and lightened her eyes. An honest, grateful, trusting kind of smile. “And since we’re admitting fantasies, you have to know you’ve been fulfilling mine. And it’s been an incredible gift.”

“How’s that?”

“You’ve given me back my faith in myself,” she said simply. Without warning, she refocused on her original task and grabbed onto the waistband of his jeans.

He had seconds to make a choice. Doug wasn’t an indecisive man. He went after his goals, consequences be damned. Hell, the newspaper article and his busted career were proof of that. But when it came to Juliette Stanton, all his intentions and resolutions to go no further were constantly shot to hell the minute she came within touching distance. Kissing distance. Any distance.

He grasped her wrists, stilling their determined movements and giving himself something to do with his restless hands—hands that would rather be roaming her supple curves. “If I’ve restored your faith in yourself, does that mean you believe in me?”

“Of course.”

That simple, he thought. And that complicated. “And you believe I want you.”

She nodded. A light blush stained her cheeks as she gestured with a tip of her head. “Hard evidence, like you said.”

Twining their hands together, he eased himself closer, so he could cradle her in his arms and resist temptation at the same time. “Then can you believe that I want to know you better more than I…” he cleared his throat, “want you to reciprocate. Right now, anyway.”

“I can believe in you enough to trust what you say.” Juliette rested her head against his chest.

Closing her eyes, she could see his face behind her shut lids. If she’d thought him handsome earlier this evening, after a run in the rain and her fingers in his hair, he was devastating and her pulse rate increased rapidly.

“You should. Remember I’m not the one with the fear of storms. If I didn’t want to be here, I could walk out the door.”

What he said made sense. Of course he could walk away. And unlike the past men in her life he didn’t know who she was, therefore he couldn’t want anything from her except sex or her company. Phrased that way, she ought to be grateful he’d opted to get to know her better first, she realized, and she let herself relax against him, trusting him even more.

After all, no man had ever shown interest in her. Doug did. And her interest wasn’t just reciprocated, it ran high. But he was holding himself in check and Juliette had no doubt his restraint was related to his fantasy. He wanted to prove he could put a woman’s needs first, before his own. Unfortunately, that put his fantasy at odds with her desire.

She’d already experienced the luxury of being catered to and doted upon by a very special man. With Doug, she felt desirable and the center of his universe. At times she even forgot the hurt of her broken engagement. And now that Doug had completed her basic fantasy—one she hadn’t known she’d possessed before coming down to this island—she wanted more.

But first she had to prove to him they could share more intimacy and make love without one or the other of them being used for selfish gain.

He said he wanted to get to know her better. It was a start toward her goal and she had no problem complying. “So what is it you want to know about me?”

“How about we begin with your fear of storms.”

She curled into his waiting strength. His arms cocooned her in safety and heat but she couldn’t ignore the tingling awareness rioting through her. “Dad built us a tree house when we were eight. It was so cool and Gillian and I spent so much time there. Too much time, so Mom and Dad had to restrict the hours. But we were kids, you know? We just had to play there no matter what.”