and turned thoughtfully back to her. “I wouldn’t let fear keep me from someone,” he said then, his voice a low murmur.
“No? Then what would?”
His powerful shoulders lifted in a noncommittal shrug, and then he said, “If you love someone, you want what’s best for them. Even if it means it’s not you.”
Something in his words caused a little ribbon of pain to unravel within her. Had he ever felt anything for her, and thought that he wasn’t good enough for her?
No. How could he not be good enough for anyone? He was honorable and dedicated, fiercely passionate about those he loved, as protective as an angry panther.
“Garrett, you don’t have to stay. I know you told Molly you would but I’d rather you go,” she said, getting sleepier by the second. “The antibiotics and steroids make me dizzy anyway, so I’ll probably sleep all afternoon. And if you stay here I’m going to give you strep.”
The tenderness that liquefied his gaze suddenly made her feel even more soft and languid. “You’re not giving me anything. Relax and I’ll be here when you wake up.”
His voice was so soothing and gentle she couldn’t help but nod and close her eyes. As she heard him take the tray to the kitchen, she snuggled into her pillow, her stomach warmed with Molly’s sucky soup, which, even if tasteless, had served its purpose well. Ever since Molly had moved in with Julian, the house had seemed so quiet. Just knowing Garrett was around right now made her feel safe and protected.
The steroids were kicking in as well as the antibiotics, and her fever seemed to be breaking.
New beads of perspiration popped onto her brow, and a new, unexpected heaviness settled in her chest as she thought of her move to Florida and how she wouldn’t see Garrett and Molly and all her loved ones as frequently as she did now.
She sighed when she felt something cool and damp slide along her forehead. Her pulse skittered when she realized Garrett was stroking her face with a cool towel, and she felt out of breath as she murmured, “That feels good.”
He dragged the damp cloth along her cheek, and the cool mist on her skin made her nipples bead under her T-shirt. His voice was low and sensually hypnotic. “So of all the states, why Florida?” He ran the towel along the length of her bare arms, and her nipples turned hard as stones.
With a delicious shiver, she sighed and leaned her cheek to her right, into his chest. “Some of my college friends live in Miami Beach. And I’m a sun person.”
She hadn’t realized she was grabbing onto his arm, but she knew that she didn’t want to let go. He smelled so good and felt warm and substantial, so she kept her arms curled around his elbow. God, she’d done the impossible to get this man to notice her. The impossible. She’d dated men she hadn’t even liked. She’d said she’d marry other men. Ignored Garrett and paid attention to everyone else. It had made him scowl, but that had been the whole extent of his reactions to her efforts.
It had been infuriating and disheartening.
He really did see her as some sort of friendly sister, while Kate had fantasized about him for decades. She hated that she never could really enjoy sex with her partners because a part of her heart had always belonged to this man.
This man who now caressed her neck with that cloth, and made her new purple panties damp with wanting. Even if she’d convinced herself she didn’t love him anymore, her body was still hazardously attracted to his. Hell, if she weren’t sick, she would open her eyes and kiss him even if he didn’t want her to. She’d just go crazy and kiss him, because that was the only thing she’d never tried, of all the crazy stunts she’d pulled to get him to notice her. She had his attention with Florida. But this was no longer a stunt.
She had to leave. And she had to leave now.
So that when she came for a visit, she would have a new life, a steady boyfriend and an equally great catering business in Miami, and when she saw Garrett, she would see what she had been meant to see all along. A friend and a brother figure.
“Do you want me to bring my laptop here?” he whispered in her ear, his voice strangely husky. “Kate?”
She nodded, not opening her eyes as she released him and waited, with a new kind of fever, for him to come back.
* * *
Garrett was hard as granite and hated that he was, but he was trying his damnedest to ignore it as he set his laptop on the nightstand. He kept the computer shut, and instead kicked off his shoes and plopped down on the bed next to Kate, stretching his legs out as he put his arm around her shoulders, sensing her need for comfort.
She’d been holding his arm so hard, he hadn’t wanted to move.
Hell, his back had gone stiff as a board as soon as her fingers had curled around him. He’d desperately wanted her touch and at the same time, he’d been distressed over the way his body responded to it. In the end, he’d wanted it more than he’d disliked it, and he’d come back. For more. Like a needy dog wanting a bone.
When she’d been getting dressed, he had thought he’d have a heart attack at the sight of that beautiful bare bottom. Kate was willowy and slim, and her wet hair had so temptingly caressed her shoulders. In a fraction of a second, he’d visualized about a dozen things he wanted to do to her, a dozen ways he wanted to kiss and feel her.
Now she was cuddling against his side, with that cute little T-shirt, and that soft, almost dreamlike smile on her lips.
He put his arm around her shoulders, and she sighed in contentment and snuggled into his chest, clutching a piece of his collar. The gesture was so possessive and sweet his chest knotted with emotion as he set his head back on the headboard and held her to him.
What would it be like to marry someone like Kate? Someone he cared for. He wanted. Not for any other purpose but because he needed her by his side.
Flooded with tenderness, he felt her squirm to get closer, and her T-shirt rode up to reveal...those purple panties that made his mouth water.
Just give me something to think about other than those long legs. Those sweet purple panties...
Her hair was still wrapped in a white towel, and Garrett gently unwound it and ran it slowly over her scalp, seeing her lashes resting on her cheekbones as she let him dry her hair, her skin pale in the sunlight.
He wanted to kiss those soft lips, which were natural and bare today, peachy in color. He wanted to slide his hands up her arms, touch her bare skin and memorize its texture, its color, its temperature. He wanted her eyelashes to flutter apart, so he could stare into her eyes and say something about the things roiling inside of him.
Instead, he finished drying her hair and tossed the towel onto the chair by the window. He shifted back to her side, noticing how she stiffened and tightened her hold on his collar until he wrapped his arm tightly around her again, and she relaxed.
He yanked off his tie and set it on the nightstand, and then wrapped his other arm around her waist and set his jaw on the top of her head. Her hair smelled of raspberries. He’d wanted to know? Yeah. He had his answer. And now his blood heated with one whiff. He grabbed the bed sheet and pulled it up over them both, not wanting her to notice his painfully pulsing erection if she opened her eyes.
She
