His heart gave a little flicker. He couldn’t be the person that told her this would never work out. The tears were already forming in her eyes. He put his finger under her chin. “And I won’t let you be. I believe that you’re a good person. A good person who got caught up in lifestyle she couldn’t maintain.” He gave her a grin. “I’m not going to give you a credit card, you know. In fact, I’ll probably hide the ones I’ve got while you’re staying. Would that make you feel better?”
This was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea.
He’d never lived with a woman before. He’d never wanted to live with a woman before. Colt liked his own space. He liked to sit on his quiet deck at home alone, watching the waves on the beach. He liked early morning and quiet evenings. He liked order. Everything in its place. Selena thrived on chaos. She’d already told him she was messy. She would probably drive him nuts. They were total opposites. Not only that, she’d ruined the trust he had in her. He didn’t think for a moment that she’d steal from him or destroy his property. But he was only half joking about hiding the credit cards—it might actually be a good idea.
But somehow it just felt right. No matter what had happened between them. A whole lot of other stuff had happened, too. Selena hadn’t reacted to his scars, hadn’t been put off at all. She reached out to touch him where others hadn’t. No matter how conflicted he felt, just looking at her now made the blood start to surge around his body. He just couldn’t help how he felt around her. Five days. It was time limited. He could help her for that long.
Her tense muscles relaxed, and her shoulders sagged as if all the panic was starting to drain out of her body. Her adrenaline and nerves must be shot. She placed her hands on the front of his chest, lifting her heavy eyelids to look at him with those haunting green eyes.
She nodded. “Just friends?”
The tone of her voice made him move closer. His finger traced a line down her cheek. “Friends, lovers, whatever you like. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
It was important that she didn’t feel pressured. He wanted this to be the right decision for her.
“Whatever I like,” she repeated as he cupped her face. Her voice wavered. “And you’ll give me some house rules to follow?” It was as if she was trying to sort it in her mind. Make it simple. Keep herself straight.
His head was still imagining his house in an uproar. Selena’s pink thongs littered all over his white sofa and her fuchsia lipstick on his glasses.
“Oh, I can give you a whole list of house rules.” He smiled. “After all, I have no ulterior motive.” He lowered his head and brushed a kiss against her lips. “None whatsoever.” He kissed her again and looked around the room. “It’s purely a health-and-safety issue.”
This was the right thing to do. It was. Even though he still had a few doubts.
“Health and safety? Really?” Her hands had moved up the planes of his chest and settled around his neck. She pulled him toward her.
He could feel her warm breath on his cheek. Buzz. There it was again. Every time he came into contact with Selena. “Sure. Health and safety. No one is allowed to stay overnight in the spa area. It could be a fire hazard.” His lips plundered hers, curling her toes and scrambling her senses.
“I kind of like being known as a fire hazard,” she murmured as their bodies melded together.
He couldn’t keep his hands off her. They moved around to the front of her body and he felt her hardened nipple under her thin cotton top. It brought him back to his senses. They’d already risked the thrill of being caught in a compromising position once before.
He stepped back, taking in her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. He grabbed the bags, which had dropped at his feet. “How much stuff do you have? Will it fit in my truck?”
She nodded. “The monster truck? Are you joking? Even I don’t have that many clothes.”
He smiled. “Then let’s go.”
“Great. You get the bags, and I’ll get my clothes.” She grabbed her still-wet items from the dryer and started stuffing them into the bag. “Do you have a master key for the lockers?”
He grabbed the keys from his pocket. “There should be one on this.”
“Thanks.” She fumbled around with a few and finally managed to open one of the lockers. There were her clothes hanging pristine inside, all on individual hangers. She turned the key on the next locker and it opened to reveal an identical sight.
His arms were beginning to ache—she had more stuff than he’d thought. She raised herself up on her tiptoes and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Just the shoes—and you won’t even begin to imagine where I hid those!”
Her hand was on the door to the locker room, ready to leave, but she stopped and turned back around. “Thank you, Colt. I won’t forget this. Thank you for looking out for me.”
The words had a strange effect on him. Selena could be fun. Selena could be snarky. But now she was being sincere. Now, she was showing some humility and it cut him to the bone.
Leaving him with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Opposites attract. He could testify to that. But could opposites live together?
He took a deep breath. “Please don’t let me live to regret this.”
Chapter Ten
Her stomach jittered the whole way along the freeway, her fingers twiddling with her hair.
Colt pulled up outside a beachfront house in Malibu that was wood paneled and painted in shades of blue and cream. He hauled her bags out of the back and unlocked the door while she stood nervously on the step.
Tears had formed in the corners of her eyes and she struggled to hold them back. The door swung open and he pressed some digits on an alarm. Colt had been so kind to her, but her brain was scrambled. Was he doing this only because of her situation, or because he actually wanted things to move forward between them? Their blossoming relationship wasn’t exactly under wraps from those at the clinic, but how would he feel if their colleagues found out she was staying with him?
Part of her wondered if he was embarrassed to let people know he was seeing her—the girl who couldn’t keep her credit-card spending under control. She took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back, pasting a smile on her face and trying to be casual.
She could do this. She could.
“Whoa. This is a joke, right? You don’t actually live here?” Selena walked around, almost frightened to touch anything in the perfect room. “I didn’t know you lived in Malibu.”
The home was drop-dead gorgeous. A mix up of Houses of the Stars and Luxury Homes in LA, her two favorite TV shows.
He dumped her bags and moved across the immaculate white kitchen, starting the coffee machine. “Where did you think I stayed?”
She shrugged. “I sort of figured you for a penthouse apartment guy. Not an I-own-my-own-part-of-Malibu-beach kind of guy.” She looked out at the view of the sun-drenched beach. One whole wall of this house was glass-fronted, giving the type of views real estate agents would die for. The glass door led out to a private balcony deck with a set of steps leading down to the beach.
It was like a little piece of heaven.
And Colt was going to let her stay there.
Which gave her a hard dose of reality: he lived in a palace, and she was currently a pauper.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the crashing waves and sagged down into one of the designer cream-clad chairs. It molded to her body instantly, making her feel as if she were meant to sit there. “You’ve got that whole OC thing going on here.”
He shook his head. “Wrong county.”
“I get that. I was talking about the TV series.”
Colt laughed. “Well, this place didn’t look like that when I bought it. The only original feature is the deck and balcony.” He walked over to the windows. “I always did mean to replace them with something more modern.”
“Don’t you dare. I love the balcony and deck. It’s warm. Inviting.” She held out her arms. A whole world away from w
hat she could ever imagine for herself. “Yeah, it’s like your own personal invitation to step on down to the beach. How can you resist? Drinking coffee on the balcony every morning with this perfect view? How fabulous.” She sighed and rested her arms on the balcony. “My idea of heaven would be sitting out here, drinking one of those strawberry daiquiris I had the other night, watching the sun go down.”
Colt raised his eyebrows and walked back into the kitchen, searching through the cupboards, pushing things from side to side and opening and closing about every door in the kitchen. “Finally,” he exclaimed as he pulled out a blender.
“I take it you don’t do much in the kitchen?” she asked.
“Wait a minute. I whip up a mean cocktail.” He took some crushed ice from the freezer and strawberries and limes from the fridge. The bubbling coffee machine was forgotten. “Now, where is it?” Seconds later he found the rum and added a hefty dash to the mixture, taking two glasses from the shelf while the ice whizzed noisily next to them.
He poured the thick liquid into the glasses and added a straw. “There you go. Colt’s Special Strawberry Daiquiri. Don’t let it be said that only a young barman can make it for you.”
Selena smiled and took a long sip, grimacing as the tartness hit her. “Think you forgot the strawberry schnapps. But it’s lovely. Thank you, Colt.”
Wow. How many women would kill to be in her shoes right now? Sitting in a million-dollar house with a view to die for, and a man who looked as if he’d walked off a movie set. This was the thing that dreams were made of.