Part 29 (1/2)

”But you needed money-”

”It wasn't the money, Summer. I was desperate, but I could have left town and kept my job and figured out some other way to take care of my mom and Emma. I wanted to marry you. I've wanted it for a long time.”

Summer stared at Billy, her jaw agape. ”Why didn't you say something sooner?”

His lips twisted wryly. ”If you'll recall, I did.”

Summer thought back to the time two years ago when Billy had proposed to her, and she'd refused. And the moment a few weeks later, when she'd been running from who she'd discovered she was, and she'd proposed to him and he'd turned her down. ”I suppose timing is everything.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that she was glad this time the timing had been right, because she'd discovered that she loved him, but he spoke first.

”We didn't marry for love, Summer. But some of the best marriages happen when people like and respect one another.”

Summer felt her heart sink. What about love? She loved Billy and she wanted his love. Was that asking so much? ”What are you saying?”

”That I'd like to treat this marriage as something that will last beyond the time we set for it to end.”

Summer didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to feel. She shot a surrept.i.tious look in Billy's direction. ”I'm not sure I know what you're getting at.”

”I'm saying we make a good team. That I like being with you. That I want to keep on spending time in your company. That we ought to plan on staying married for the long haul.”

Nothing about love in any of those statements, Summer noticed. Commitment. But not love.

Summer wondered what would happen if she just admitted her feelings to Billy. But what if he didn't-couldn't-love her back the way she loved him? Friends.h.i.+p just wasn't enough anymore. She threaded her fingers together in her lap and focused on them as she said, ”I don't think that's a good idea, Billy. I mean, I think it's important to be in love with the person you plan to spend your life with.”

The ball was in his court. If he had feelings for her, surely he would declare them now. She'd given him the perfect opening.

But all he said was, ”Yeah. I suppose you're right.”

Summer gave Billy directions to get to the penthouse on Woodway and exchanged an amused glance with him when the concierge at the desk gave them the key, then glanced at the small gym bag that was all Billy had brought along and asked, ”Do you need help with your luggage, sir?”

”I think I can handle it,” Billy said, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

A fast ride up the elevator, and they were inside the penthouse, which was filled with memories for Summer.

”Nice place,” Billy commented as he dropped his bag on a silk-upholstered chair.

”I'm surprised you didn't put up more of an argument when I suggested it.”

Billy shrugged. ”It's a lot closer to the offices of De-Witt & Blackthorne than a motel somewhere along the freeway.”

Summer headed straight for the pictures on the baby grand piano. ”There are so many good times captured here. I want to go back and live them all over again.”

”But then you'd have to live the bad times all over again, too,” Billy said as he joined her. ”Owen and Clay looked a lot more alike in high school.” He pointed to a picture of Summer dressed in pink tights, standing between her brothers and said, ”I never knew you took ballet lessons.”

”Just for the blink of an eye. Which was how long I lasted with the piano and the flute. It seems I had no affinity for instruments either large or small,” she said with a grin.

”I guess you needed to find one just the right size,” Billy said as he took her hand and placed it over the fly in his jeans.

Summer laughed and slid her palm down to cup him, feeling the length of him grow hard beneath her hand. ”Amazing how much fun it can be to play, once you've had a little practice.”

When she looked into Billy's eyes, it suddenly wasn't a game anymore. This was serious. She loved him. And though he liked her and admired her and obviously desired her, he didn't love her back. Summer felt a growing sense of desperation.

”Love me, Billy,” she whispered. She purposely hadn't said ”Make love to me.” There was a difference. She wanted Billy to see it. She wanted Billy to feel it.

He kept his gaze focused on her as he lowered his head and touched her lips with his in a gesture of infinite tenderness. Oh. It felt like love.

But his eyes were dark and dangerous. A second later he scooped her up in his arms and said, ”Which way?”

She pointed him down the hall toward her penthouse bedroom. He shoved a handful of stuffed animals off the bed, then tore off the bedspread and lay her on the cool sheets, following her down.

He popped the b.u.t.tons on her s.h.i.+rt, and she smiled inwardly as one pinged off the headboard. He shoved her bra straps off her shoulders and dragged the bra out of the way as his mouth latched onto her naked breast. This was the lover she'd wanted, a little rough because he was impatient to touch, impatient to taste.

He stopped long enough to yank off her boots and pull down her jeans and underwear and finally un-snapped her bra when she couldn't get it undone, before throwing it across the room.

Summer laughed as he gave his own clothes the same crude treatment, tearing at cloth and b.u.t.tons until he was as naked as she was. But there was no more foreplay. She gasped as he gripped her hips and drove into her in one swift thrust.

He stopped and stared into her eyes. She thought he was going to speak, but instead, he leaned over and kissed her hard on the mouth, a kiss of claiming, of absolute possession.

His hands moved over her, touching, testing, until she was alive with sensation. She arched her back as his mouth once more claimed a breast, her hands clutching his silky hair as he suckled her.

His lips continued their delicious torment at her throat, and she tasted the salt on his shoulder and nipped at his flesh as she sought to give back the pleasure she took. His love bites became harder, more savage, as his body pumped into hers, but she felt only an exquisite pleasure that pulsed and grew.

He buried his face in her neck, binding her hands on either side of the pillow, giving her no chance of escape. She drove her hips up to meet his, writhing beneath him as they both sought the pinnacle of pleasure. She cried aloud and heard a wrenching groan tear from his throat as they found what they'd sought.

They both lay heaving, their bodies sweat-slick, and for the first time Summer was aware of the ice-cold air-conditioning. She s.h.i.+vered when a blast of air hit her heated flesh. ”It's cold in here.”

Billy released her hands and started to rise off of her, but Summer slid her arms around his waist and held on, wanting to feel the weight of him, not wanting the closeness to end.

The words I love you were on the tip of her tongue. All she had to do was say them. She didn't think Billy would mind. It was a good thing to love someone.

But not if he didn't love her back.

Summer didn't speak, and when Billy lifted himself and slid to her side, she didn't stop him. He reached down and pulled the sheet up to cover them, then put an arm around her and nestled her close.

”This is nice,” she said, as she slid her f.a.n.n.y into the niche created by his thighs.

”Yeah,” he agreed. ”Nice.”

”Are you hungry?” she asked. ”We can order something from the concierge downstairs.”

He nuzzled her neck. ”Not for food,” he said.

She opened her eyes and turned to stare at him over her shoulder. ”You can't possibly-”

”That was just an appetizer,” he said. ”Now I'm ready for the main course.”