He didn’t confide in any of his lovers. He never shared his feelings, and the one guarantee his lovers had was that he’d always leave.
He never allowed anyone to get too close; he’d learned a long time ago to be his own champion, his own motivator. His mother hadn’t believed in or supported him so he didn’t expect anyone else to either.
Rory was different. She made him feel more, made him say more, want more. He was out of his depth with her and flailing...
Mac rubbed his temples with his fingertips. He was definitely losing it. Flailing? Over a woman? God, he sounded like a fool.
Irritated with himself and his introspection, he picked up his tablet computer and swiped his finger across the screen, immediately hitting the link for his favorite news site. Instead of focusing on the US elections or the migrant crisis in Europe, the headlines detailed the breakup of a famous Hollywood golden couple after ten years and fostering six kids.
Mac had been caught in the same type of media hype, on less of a global scale admittedly, and it had sucked.
Phoenix is currently being treated for depression and begs the media to give her some privacy, he read. He’d heard that Shay had suffered with depression during their breakup and the constant press attention had made the situation ten times worse. He couldn’t do that to Rory, couldn’t risk her like that. Yeah, it was Puerto Rico. Yes, they would be flying under the radar. But it just took one determined paparazzo, one photograph, and their world would implode.
Not happening. He had to keep his hands off her.
“You look like your brain is going to explode,” Rory softly said.
Mac rolled his head on his shoulders and watched as she stretched. “It feels that way,” he admitted, knowing he had to address this longing for her. Now or never, he thought.
You won’t die if you don’t have sex. You might think you are going to, but you won’t.
Mac rubbed his temples again. “Look, Rory, I’ve been thinking.”
Rory sent him an uncertain look. “Uh-huh?”
“Despite my smart comments about us sleeping together and that hot kiss, maybe it would be better if we didn’t. Sleep together, that is.”
He couldn’t help noticing the immediate flash of relief in her eyes. So something had shifted in her after that bizarre conversation with her father. When she’d returned from the bathroom, sexy Rory had disappeared and had been replaced with enigmatic Rory. He still didn’t know what to make of that.
“Want to clue me in on why you’ve had a change of heart?”
You scare the crap out of me? When I’m with you I feel like I am on shifting sand? I don’t want to see you hurt or scared or feeling hunted?
Yeah, he couldn’t admit to any of the above.
So he fudged the truth. “My arm is killing me. I’d like to get to the house and chill, take my meds and just zone out for a while. I want to relax and not have to worry about you or keeping you happy, in bed or out.” Mac stared past her to look out the window. “I’d like us to play it cool, just be friends.” Because he was a man and believed in keeping his options open, he tacked on a proviso. “For now?”
Rory didn’t answer, her gray eyes contemplative. “Sure. Fine.”
Mac watched her out of the corner of his eye and sighed. Fine. God, he hated that word, especially when a woman stated it in that hard-to-read way. What did it actually mean? Was she okay with waiting? Was she pissed? Did she actually want to say “Screw you”?
Sometimes, most times, women made no sense. At all.
Six
Rory loved the Cap de Mar beach house. Shortly after her arrival, she claimed one of the smaller guest rooms, partly because it had an excellent view of the U-shaped bay and mostly because it was a floor below and a long way from the massive master suite.
She pulled on a bikini, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and, walking barefoot, she set out to explore the house. As Mac had said, the living areas, sitting and dining room and the kitchen were all open-plan, leading onto a massive balcony filled with comfortable chairs and daybeds either under the balcony roof or under umbrellas. Tucked into the corner of the balcony was a huge Jacuzzi and she could easily imagine sitting in that tub watching the sun go down.
It was mid-afternoon now, Rory thought, resting her elbows on the railing and looking down into the sparkling pool below her. In a perfect world she’d like to take a swim, lie in the sun and then sit on the beach with a glass of white wine in her hand and wait for the sun to paint the horizon in Day-Glo colors. That, she thought, would be a wonderful end to a rather difficult day...
Rory saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Mac step out of his bedroom through the doors that led straight onto this balcony. He’d shucked his jeans and shirt and pulled on a pair of board shorts. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt. Why should he? He had a torso to die for.