interested, I’m willing.”
There were two spots of color on her face, but oth erwise she seemed completely calm and in control. Amazing, he thought, still stunned at her courage and honesty.
“Unless you don’t want me,” she added, as she ducked her head.
Not want her? “Noelle, don’t go there,” he told her. “Wanting has nothing to do with it.”
“Then it’s because I’m pregnant. Does that gross you out?”
That made him smile. Nothing about her “grossed him out.” She only had to be breathing for him to want her. “You being pregnant isn’t an issue.” He felt uncomfortable and wasn’t sure why. A beautiful woman was offering herself to him. Shouldn’t that be a good thing?
It was, except he wasn’t sure it was right for her. She’d only been with one of guy and he’d been Dev’s brother. The situation was twisted in ways he couldn’t describe.
There was also his concern about what would happen after. If they did become lovers. The women he let into his life understood the rules—no permanent entanglements. Despite the two-year contract they had, he wasn’t sure Noelle could be his lover and walk away.
She stood. “I can see you’re not ready. That’s fine. I’ll wait. But the offer remains open.”
Then she walked out.
He was left with an aching need and no clue as to what to say. What the hell was wrong with this picture? What was he supposed to do now? Go after her? Pretend they’d never had this conversation? He’d been left hanging in the wind by a twenty-year-old innocent.
If this had happened to anyone else, he would think it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.
Chapter Eight
Dev found himself in the unusual position of being nervous about walking into his own house. Every since he and Noelle had had what he thought of as the “sex talk,” he’d half expected to find her waiting for him wearing a big, red bow and nothing else.
While nearly every part of his brain and body would kill for such a thing to happen, the lone sensible cells still functioning pointed out that there were massive problems to be had should he and Noelle become lovers.
She was pregnant by his brother. She had neither the temperament nor the experience of his usual temporary women and might not fully understand the rules. This was supposed to be a sensible arrangement in the best interests of Noelle and the baby. He was confident there was no way to justify an intimate relationship as beneficial to either.
That said, he couldn’t help wanting her. Worse, the longer he knew her and learned more about who she was, the more he wanted her. He’d had relationships that started out with great promise only to fade into nothing very quickly. With Noelle, it was the opposite. He hadn’t had any expectations about her when they’d first made their arrangement, but the more he was around her, the more he admired and respected her.
Nearly a week after their uncomfortable conversation, he walked into the kitchen, once again braced for overt seduction or more questions, only to find her dancing in front of the stove, while a country song played on the radio.
Last night she’d been swaying to classical, the night before she’d been bebopping to music from the 1940s. Noelle had many qualities, but she was never boring.
“Hi,” she called when she saw him, then reached for the remote to the Bose system and turned down the volume. “Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes, if you want to go change.”
She smiled as she spoke, then crossed to where he stood, placed one hand on his shoulder and brushed her mouth against his.
The kiss was light, nearly impersonal and left him panting for more. Then she turned back to the stove.
“I’m making chicken Marsala. I found a bottle of Marsala in the pantry, which is good because I couldn’t buy it. This is my mom’s recipe and it’s fabulous, so I hope you’re hungry.”
He stood riveted to the floor. If he didn’t know better, he would swear he was being seduced by his own wife, who wasn’t even old enough to buy cooking wine.
“Starving,” he muttered, not quite meaning the food. “I’ll go get changed and be back in five minutes.”
“Good.” She beamed at him, then cranked up the volume on the radio and resumed her dancing in front of the stove.
An hour later, they’d finished dinner and cleaned up the kitchen together. That was their new pattern. He wasn’t sure when he’d decided to pitch in, but now every night he cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher while she wiped off the counters and the stove.
“Do you have homework?” he asked when they were finished.
She shook her head. “I’m all done for the day. I’m sure there will be more tomorrow. What about you? Anything from the office?”
“No,” he said, then wished he hadn’t. Time suddenly seemed to hang heavily on their hands.
“Then I have something I’d like to discuss.”
As she spoke, she led the way to the family room. Dev thought briefly about ducking into his office, but he refused to be intimidated by the thought of a personal conversation. As long as the topic wasn’t sex, he would be fine.
Noelle plopped onto the sofa, her long bare legs stretching out in front of her as she rested her heels on the coffee table. She wore shorts and a tank top, which left far too much skin bare. Her hair was loose, her toes painted pink and her smile just welcoming enough to make his blood heat.
“I’ve been thinking about what we talked about before,” she said when he’d settled at the far end of the sofa.
He held in a groan.
“Is it Jimmy?” she asked. “Because I was with him?”
He had the realization that she was never going to let the topic go. Apparently the only way to stop talking about why they weren’t having sex was to just go ahead and have it. Under any other circumstances, he would have given in.
“Jimmy is a factor,” he admitted. “I still think of you as Jimmy’s girl.”
She nodded slowly. “I think if he hadn’t died, you would have been more comfortable letting that relationship go. As it is, I’m the last person you know who was close to him. If you change that by getting close to me yourself, you lose that connection.”
Her insights surprised him. “I hadn’t put the concept into words, but you’re right.”
“So if you were to get involved with me, you’d be hurting your brother,” she said.
He hesitated. He could sense danger down this conversational path, even though he couldn’t see it. “I wouldn’t say hurting,” he told her. “The situation raises some questions.”
“You know I’m not in love with him,” she said.
He
