2
“CARLA,” TOBIAS SAID, extending his hand. “I saw your name on the roster. This is a surprise.”
An unpleasant one? It was hard to tell by his tone. “Hello, Tobias.” As she said his name, Carla’s heart missed a beat. Just eyeing the big strong hand that, in the past, had slowly, dexterously caressed every inch of her sent prickles dancing across her skin. When she slid her palm to his, her breath stilled completely. The handshake was quick, firm and businesslike, and yet not quick enough, since Carla instantly registered the smooth feel of his fingers. Her belly fluttered as they ghosted over hers. The muscles of her lower body tightened as they withdrew. Tingles made the tips of her breasts constrict, and she could only hope he hadn’t noticed.
Yeah, she reflected, that hand was just as she remembered: warm, dry to the touch and intriguingly alive. She tried not to take the thoughts any further…to how that hand had felt sliding up the creamy skin of her shuddering inner thighs. He could caress her for hours, bringing her to satisfaction over and over. He was the kind of man who loved every second of a woman’s pleasure….
Heat suffused her cheeks. The room was air-conditioned, but suddenly every interior inch of her felt as if it had hit triple-digit temperatures in August. Maybe even the depths of Hades. Right about now, she’d kill for an ice cube. A bead of sweat snaked between her breasts and she exhaled shakily. No, she never should have let her mother bully her into coming here.
“Have a seat,” he suggested in a voice that could have been whispering sweet naughty nothings into her ears for the past seven years.
Vaguely, she realized she was staring at his mouth as if mesmerized. What had she been thinking? Lord, Carla, she thought now. You could have married this luscious hunk.
No, Carla hadn’t forgotten the voice any more than the feel of his hands. Deep and rich, it had seemed to rumble in his chest like thunder before a storm, then pour out like sweet, succulent honey. “Seat?” she echoed, her mind ceasing to function as her eyes dropped over his body—the wide, broad shoulders, the hard chest, the jeans that were just tight enough to gracefully trace his masculinity. But why was Tobias wearing a sport coat and tie? If he was still the man Carla had known, his employers were lucky to get him to wear a shirt. Or anything at all. Yes…the Tobias Free she’d known had been very anti-clothes.
His lips were curling into the slow, sexy smile she remembered—and with that smile, the whole of their history threatened to overwhelm her. “Seat,” he said, chuckling and pointing to a velvet upholstered love seat. “That thing you put your rear end on.”
Hmm. So he still had a sense of humor. “Just wanted to make sure,” she quipped. “I’d hate to wind up being a centerpiece for your table.”
“Or hanging from a chandelier.”
“You have that much fun around here, huh?”
“You’d be amazed where sleepwalkers wind up.”
“Not really,” she returned, thinking of her own nocturnal habits. Relaxing a little as she sat, she glanced around the fancy, old-fashioned parlor, taking in the red carpet and dark wood-paneled walls. “The place hasn’t changed a bit,” she added, then wished she hadn’t said the words since they were another reminder that she’d been here with him before.
“Yeah,” he agreed simply, taking a clipboard from under his arm as he turned away to seat himself on a settee opposite her. “It’s right out of a Stephen King novel. If you ask me, this mansion looks haunted.”
“Good for a dream clinic,” she offered.
“Only if you’re having nightmares.”
“Which I still am.”
“I can see that from your intake form.”
She could barely believe they were talking like two normal, rational people. No doubt it wouldn’t last long. Their only real conversation after she’d run from the altar had quickly degenerated into a screaming match. She wasn’t interested in having a replay. Neither was he. Ever since, on the rare occasions they’d spoken, the conversations had been brief and polite. They were adults, after all.
As he scanned down the form she’d filled out when she’d arrived, she took another look around the room, mulling over the details—a mosaic fireplace, crown ceiling moldings and ancient oil paintings. Original beaded lamps from the nineteenth century were perched on end tables, and the hammered bronze candelabra on the mantle looked like something Dracula might carry up a flight of stairs. Tobias was right. The mansion, which had been leased with most of its original furnishings, did look a little spooky, like something out of a horror story. “It’s not really scary,” she decided aloud.
“No,” he agreed. “Just old.”
She shifted her gaze to Tobias, sucking in a breath when pure lust blindsided her again. Past memories of their lovemaking came, as visceral and unwanted as the dreams that so often seemed real to her. She found herself recalling the strength in his legs as they’d glided along her thighs, and how the short silken strands of his chest hair could feel, teasing the sensitive skin between her fingers.
He’d changed in the past seven years. Oh, he was still the same heartthrob who’d stolen her attention in high school, when he was a track star and she was a member of the pep club. He had the same straight, hay-blond hair that he wore too long and that occasionally dipped into melting brown eyes. The same sexy light-brown dot of a mole beside lips that could kiss like the devil. The same burning, penetrating concentration that he brought to every task, including lovemaking. But a few lines had appeared around his eyes, and the skin over his high cheekbones seemed more taut, making him look more mature. Yes, any trace of the boy had definitely left Tobias Free. He’d grown up completely, into a man.
He glanced up from the intake form. “Is this everything?”
Suddenly, she wished he wasn’t being quite so businesslike, and that she was outfitted in something other than khaki pants and a T-shirt. Recently, she’d bought an emerald-green sundress, but she’d decided against wearing it, not wanting Tobias to think she’d dressed for him, if she saw him. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d sit down and read her intake form. She fought the urge to reach and smooth her hair, the wild curly strands of which were frizzing in the heat. “Yes,” she said. “I really can’t think of anything else.”
“Before I show you to your room, I’d like to ask a couple more questions, if you don’t mind.”
He was showing her to her room? “Are you sure?” she managed, feeling more nervous by the minute. When she’d made the appointment, she’d convinced herself that she might not even see Tobias. “I mean…” She didn’t know quite how to say it. “I didn’t expect you to be involved in the…”
“Nitty-gritty? You know me better than that.”
“So, that’s how you think of me?” she couldn’t help but tease. “As the nitty-gritty?”
His eyes captured hers. “Hands-on, if you prefer.”
Heat slid through her veins again. He’d been hands-on in more ways than one. “I know how involved you are in your work,” she answered, wondering if he’d actually just flirted with her. It was impossible to tell from his tone. “I’ll be glad to answer anything I can, of course,”
