Modern Romance October 2018 Books 5-8. Trish Morey

over even though he wasn’t inside her, which was where he wanted to be.

      Rose subsided, temporarily spent. She lay down next to him and wrapped her legs over his and, as one, they turned to one another so that their naked bodies were pressed up tight, hot and perspiring.

      ‘Not fair,’ she said shakily, but there was a smile in her voice as she wriggled against him, nudging her wetness against his arousal.

      ‘No, it’s not,’ Art murmured indistinctly. Decidedly unfair that she had this dramatic effect on him, that she was capable of derailing his life the way she had. Just as well that he was putting it back on track. ‘Dump the hotel,’ he heard himself say, ‘and move in with me for the rest of your stay in London.’

      ‘Dump the hotel?’

      ‘It’s inconvenient.’ He’d never asked any woman to stay in his penthouse apartment but he was comfortable with this decision because a precedent had already been set. He’d shared her space with her so no big deal if she were to share his space with him.

      He wanted to be able to reach out and touch her in the middle of the night. He wanted to feel her, warm and aroused, lying next to him. He curved his hand between her thighs and stroked her soft, silky skin, nudging up to feel her wetness graze his knuckles.

      He stepped away to fetch a condom from his wallet.

      ‘I guess I could,’ Rose murmured as he slipped back into bed to pull her against him. ‘I guess it could work...’ She parted her legs and sighed as her body began to get excited all over again. ‘I mean,’ she continued, voice hitched, ‘I hadn’t banked on any of this happening.’

      ‘That’s been the story of my life from the second I saw you,’ Art agreed with heartfelt sincerity. ‘You may well have converted me to the pleasures of the unforeseen.’

      ‘We both have the same goal.’

      Art caressed her breast then levered himself into a position where he could taste it. He flicked his tongue over her nipple and then took it into his mouth so that he could suckle on it while he played with her other nipple, teasing it into tight arousal.

      ‘The same goal...’ Her words registered and he slowly kissed his way up to nuzzle against her neck before settling alongside her in a lovely, comfortable position where he could carry on teasing her nipple between his fingers.

      * * *

      ‘I don’t want to want you.’ Rose imagined that his next girlfriend might have brains, might have more staying power, might be the woman he let into his life because he had now seen for himself that being in a kitchen together and sharing a meal and then doing the washing-up whilst talking about anything and everything was not something to be feared and reviled. She had done him a favour in pointing him in a different direction and her heart twisted because when he left her behind and walked away it would be into a relationship that might prove to be the one.

      ‘And,’ she continued, tugging him up because she couldn’t focus on anything when he was doing what he’d been doing, ‘I know you feel the same.’ She paused, a fractional little pause during which he could have jumped in with a denial or said something that might have indicated an interest in more than just getting her out of his system. He failed to take the bait. ‘So, yes, perhaps if I moved in with you for a couple of days...well, while I’m here, then this thing we have going on...well, we can get it out of our systems faster.’

      Art frowned. ‘My way of thinking,’ he said, on cue.

      ‘There’s something about familiarity...’

      ‘You certainly know how to massage a guy’s ego. In a minute you’ll start comparing me to a virus.’

      ‘Well, it is a bit like that.’ Rose laughed shakily.

      ‘And what if it doesn’t conveniently blow over in a couple of days?’

      Rose knew that he was playing devil’s advocate. ‘It will,’ she said firmly. ‘We don’t have anything in common, Art. We don’t have what it takes to have a proper relationship, which is the only thing that would stop this thing from blowing over.’

      Art frowned. ‘Define a proper relationship. Is there a checklist for something like that?’

      ‘More or less, if I’m being honest.’

      ‘So now you’re saying I tick none of the boxes.’

      ‘There’s still one box that gets a very big tick.’

      ‘Glad to hear it.’

      ‘But for me,’ Rose said on a sigh, ‘a relationship is so much more than just sex.’

      ‘And yet sex, like it or not, is so much a part of any relationship. Too much talking. I get the picture. We’re here and this is something we have to do and I can’t tell you how much I’m going to enjoy doing it.’

      * * *

      He’d just never mentioned a timeline...

      Rose lay in bed, half dozing, drinking him in as he strolled through the bedroom of his penthouse apartment, completely naked, hunting down his laptop computer because, even though it was still only six in the morning, he was up and ready to work.

      She was warm and replete and contented. He’d roused her an hour earlier, nudging her into compliant wakefulness, and they had made love oh, so slowly. Caught in that hazy, half asleep place, Rose had let him take her to places that had left her crying out with pleasure. When, after touching her everywhere, after exploring her soft, warm body, he had finally thrust into her, filling her up, she had felt tears leak down her cheeks and had had to surreptitiously wipe them away because that definitely wasn’t part of the deal.

      The package deal had kicked off three days previously, when she had fallen into his arms like a starving woman deprived of food who suddenly found herself with a ticket to an all-you-can-eat banquet.

      They had made love and then, after a handful of hours’ sleep, had made love again and the very next morning she had moved in with him.

      They hadn’t discussed how long this arrangement was going to last. How did you talk about something like that? How did you work out the length of time it would take for one person to get sick of the other?

      How long would it take for him to get bored with her?

      Rose knew that that was the way it was going to play out because she wasn’t close to getting him out of her system. Indeed, with every passing minute spent together, he became more embedded in her bloodstream.

      They’d talked about sex. He did that a lot. When they made love he would whisper things in her ear that made her whole body burn. He would tell her, in a husky, shaky voice, how much he wanted her and what he wanted to do with her.

      He was ruled by lust. He couldn’t keep his hands off her and the more he showed that want, the more she needed something more. Something more powerful than want.

      But that was off the cards and it was always going to be off the cards.

      Except...now...looking at him and his careless elegance, Rose felt her heart twist and she knew with an awful sense of despair that she was powerless to initiate the necessary break-up.

      She was held in place by something far bigger than lust.

      Somehow, against all odds, she had fallen in love with him and she was as powerless now as a speck of flotsam being tossed around this way and that on an unpredictable, fast-flowing current.

      She could only make sure he never saw her vulnerability because if he did he would run for the hills.

      Love was not on his radar. Not with her. And it never would be. The novelty value that had drawn him to her might not have yet released him from its hold but, now that she was immersed in his life, she knew with dreadful certainty that she was only ever going to be a distraction for him.

      He