the railing and headed for the stairs that led down from his terrace to the pool house and lounge area.
He enjoyed throwing parties and often his guests forgot to bring a suit along so he kept a stock of bathing suits in the pool house for their use. By the time he found a bikini he thought might fit Violet, she had gotten out of the pool and had wrapped herself in a towel. She looked up in surprise as he approached.
“Next time you decide to go swimming,” he began, holding up the bikini he’d selected, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t skinny-dip.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, taking the bathing suit from him. Water streamed from her long dark hair, dampening the towel. “I didn’t realize you’d still be up.”
It eased his irritation a little that she looked so utterly mortified to have been caught. “Like you, I’m often still working at this hour.”
“Thanks for the suit. I won’t bother you any further tonight.”
Was she kidding? He’d never get to sleep with the tantalizing glimpses he’d had of her naked body parading through his thoughts. JT ground his teeth as she retreated toward the house. Only when her towel-clad form had disappeared from view did he return to the master suite.
At least one positive thing about this marriage in name only was that they didn’t have to live under the same roof. After less than an hour alone in his house with her, he was a finger snap away from tossing her over his shoulder and spiriting her off to his bed.
Thank goodness he wasn’t going to share his living space with her day and night. His control would snap like a dry twig if he had to put up with her sassy humor and artless sensuality. Before she could remind him of their agreement, he’d have her in his bed, her beautiful body writhing in pleasure.
Making love to her would only be the beginning. Soon she’d be ferreting out all his ugly childhood secrets and he’d be living in fear that something she discovered would be so awful she’d cut him out of her life.
And then he’d be alone again, turned inside out, his raw emotions exposed for all the world to see. No. That was something that could never happen. And if he kept her at arms’ length, it wouldn’t.
Four
A t eight the next morning, Violet found JT in the room he’d dubbed his playroom. She paused just outside the door, needing a second to collect her wits before approaching him.
Clad in worn jeans and a black cotton button-down shirt, he was bent over what looked to be an antique pool table. With his left hand, he rolled the eight ball toward the far bumper and caught it as it returned, all the while studying the papers scattered over the table’s beige felt. The briefcase she’d filled with Tiberius’s files sat empty on the floor beside his bare feet.
Being confronted by so much casual masculinity first thing in the morning wasn’t fair. Especially not after she’d lain awake staring at the ceiling until the sun starting lightening the horizon, regretting that she’d kissed him, wishing she’d dropped her towel when he confronted her on the pool deck. Her conflicting desires were tearing her apart. She’d have to choose one path and commit to it.
“Did you get some tea?” he asked without glancing her way.
His question made her realize she’d been silently staring at him for far too long. “Your housekeeper made me a cup. It’s delicious.” She didn’t need to ask why his kitchen was stocked with four different blends of green tea. She already suspected the house saw a lot of guests. While in Miami, JT had been known for his parties. She doubted much had changed in the last six years. “Find anything that might help us?”
“My uncle accumulated copious amounts of information and enjoyed making detailed notes on all his business dealings. Every share he bought is documented. What I’m missing is the information on the family members who turned him down.”
She drew close enough to the table to see
He enjoyed throwing parties and often his guests forgot to bring a suit along so he kept a stock of bathing suits in the pool house for their use. By the time he found a bikini he thought might fit Violet, she had gotten out of the pool and had wrapped herself in a towel. She looked up in surprise as he approached.
“Next time you decide to go swimming,” he began, holding up the bikini he’d selected, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t skinny-dip.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, taking the bathing suit from him. Water streamed from her long dark hair, dampening the towel. “I didn’t realize you’d still be up.”
It eased his irritation a little that she looked so utterly mortified to have been caught. “Like you, I’m often still working at this hour.”
“Thanks for the suit. I won’t bother you any further tonight.”
Was she kidding? He’d never get to sleep with the tantalizing glimpses he’d had of her naked body parading through his thoughts. JT ground his teeth as she retreated toward the house. Only when her towel-clad form had disappeared from view did he return to the master suite.
At least one positive thing about this marriage in name only was that they didn’t have to live under the same roof. After less than an hour alone in his house with her, he was a finger snap away from tossing her over his shoulder and spiriting her off to his bed.
Thank goodness he wasn’t going to share his living space with her day and night. His control would snap like a dry twig if he had to put up with her sassy humor and artless sensuality. Before she could remind him of their agreement, he’d have her in his bed, her beautiful body writhing in pleasure.
Making love to her would only be the beginning. Soon she’d be ferreting out all his ugly childhood secrets and he’d be living in fear that something she discovered would be so awful she’d cut him out of her life.
And then he’d be alone again, turned inside out, his raw emotions exposed for all the world to see. No. That was something that could never happen. And if he kept her at arms’ length, it wouldn’t.
Four
A t eight the next morning, Violet found JT in the room he’d dubbed his playroom. She paused just outside the door, needing a second to collect her wits before approaching him.
Clad in worn jeans and a black cotton button-down shirt, he was bent over what looked to be an antique pool table. With his left hand, he rolled the eight ball toward the far bumper and caught it as it returned, all the while studying the papers scattered over the table’s beige felt. The briefcase she’d filled with Tiberius’s files sat empty on the floor beside his bare feet.
Being confronted by so much casual masculinity first thing in the morning wasn’t fair. Especially not after she’d lain awake staring at the ceiling until the sun starting lightening the horizon, regretting that she’d kissed him, wishing she’d dropped her towel when he confronted her on the pool deck. Her conflicting desires were tearing her apart. She’d have to choose one path and commit to it.
“Did you get some tea?” he asked without glancing her way.
His question made her realize she’d been silently staring at him for far too long. “Your housekeeper made me a cup. It’s delicious.” She didn’t need to ask why his kitchen was stocked with four different blends of green tea. She already suspected the house saw a lot of guests. While in Miami, JT had been known for his parties. She doubted much had changed in the last six years. “Find anything that might help us?”
“My uncle accumulated copious amounts of information and enjoyed making detailed notes on all his business dealings. Every share he bought is documented. What I’m missing is the information on the family members who turned him down.”
She drew close enough to the table to see
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