The Taking (24 page)

Regan woke up with a start, the light streaming from the windows onto her face. She was late for work. She had to be. It was too bright for it to be before eight A.M. Sitting up, she stopped frantically shoving her covers off when she caught sight of Felix on the floor in the open French door to her balcony.

“Good morning,” he said.

He was still in his boxer briefs, his knees up, elbows perched on them, his cross prominent on his chest.

Have mercy, she could not believe she’d had sex with this man. Such amazing, world-tilting, multiple-orgasm sex. Surely this was retribution for all the so-so sex she’d had with Beau.

And he’d stayed the whole night, which she hadn’t expected, even though he had said he would. Of course, she wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing on the floor.

“Good morning.” She smiled, a little nervous. What the hell was she supposed to say to him? She’d had a total freak-out meltdown on him the night before and afterward had asked him to do her against the wall. Then followed it up with embarrassing confessions of reptile delusions and her childhood theft of her sister’s stuffed animal.

“Did you sleep okay?” she asked, then berated herself mentally. That was such a lame, polite, ridiculous question.

He shook his head. “I didn’t sleep.”

Regan blinked. “At all? I’m sorry, wasn’t the bed comfortable? Did I steal the covers? Or snore?”

“Why do you always assume that anyone else’s discomfort is your fault or responsibility? Nothing you did kept me from sleeping. Nothing.”

O-kay. She felt her cheeks start to burn. Maybe he had a point, but did he have to make it sound like such a flaw? He almost sounded angry with her. “Good. Glad to hear it.”

He stood up, and she immediately forgot why she was irritated. He was physically perfect. Absolutely perfect. That was both exciting as hell and intimidating in the extreme. “Any reason you were on the floor?” she asked.

“I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to disturb you. There was a nice breeze coming from outside.”

So he’d just sat there half the night? If only she could figure out how to be so zen. She suffered from nervous energy most of the time and found it hard to be still, to quiet her body and her mind.

“Oh. Good. A breeze is good.” Regan climbed out of bed, wanting to avoid feeling like she was waiting for him to kiss her. Or worse, waiting for him to make future plans with her. “I hate to rush you, but I really have to get to work. I slept later than I should have and I’m going to have to fly to get there on time. You’re welcome to stay and take a shower if you’d like, and there’s coffee in the kitchen.”

That sounded casual, calm, collected. She hoped. Like a woman who had one-night stands and didn’t think twice about it.

“I’ll head out with you,” he said, already pulling on his jeans. “But thank you.”

“Okay, great.” Feeling more than a little awkward, Regan grabbed some clothes from her closet and went into the bathroom. She didn’t have time to wash and dry her hair, but she couldn’t skip the shower. Not when she could smell Felix on her skin as she pulled off her nightgown. His scent was all over her body, and she still felt the remnants of him between her thighs.

So much for safe sex. That more than anything proved the state of mind she’d been in the night before, because she’d never even had sex with her ex-husband without a condom. Blame it on the sleepwalking and the snake, because it was totally out of character for her to be so irresponsible.

Jumping into the shower, she removed Felix from her body with cucumber-melon shower gel. Maybe by the time she was done, he would be gone. Then she could avoid the whole question of whether they would see each other again or not.

No such luck. When she came out of the bathroom ready for work, he was sitting fully dressed on her bed, which he had made. Wow. She had never actually seen a man make a bed before, which probably said something about the company she’d been keeping.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” Regan glanced around the room for her purse and didn’t see it. She must have dropped it on the kitchen counter when she’d gotten the wine the night before.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked as they headed for the door.

Regan stumbled a little in her peep-toes. “Oh, I have dinner plans with my friend Jen.” Damn it. But at least he had asked. That was something.

“Good. You won’t be alone.”

Or not.

“Remember to push a chair in front of your balcony door when you go to bed.”

“Isn’t that a fire hazard?” she asked, feeling a little cranky as she went down the stairs, him behind her.

“No. You have smoke detectors. If one goes off, you get up and move the chair and go outside. It’s better to have a chair there and have to move it on the very slim chance of a fire than to find yourself dangling from the railing again.”

She hit the wood steps a little harder with her shoes. Did he have to be right at the same time he was blowing her off? “Okay, you’re right. Chair it is.”

“Did I do something to make you angry?” Felix asked as they hit the landing of the foyer.

“No, of course not.” Regan realized she’d forgotten to stop in the kitchen. “Shit. My purse. I’ll be right back.”

Furious with herself for wanting more, Regan went left into the kitchen. She had gotten to have sex with Felix, that should be enough. He had been there emotionally, too, when she had needed him. It was ridiculous to expect or crave more.

She’d never been a discontent person. Even being married to Beau hadn’t been about feeling discontent, but about being belittled on a regular basis. She was generally easily pleased and happy.

So why was she so worked up about Felix?

Because it had felt good to be with him. Both in bed and out.

Her purse was on the counter as predicted and she grabbed it and spun around on her heels. Felix was in front of her.

“Oh! Geez, I didn’t realize you followed me.” She grabbed her neck. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” Felix pointed to the kitchen door. “But I realized it makes more sense for me to leave from the side of the house since I’m going that way.”

“Right. Sure.” Regan mentally rolled her eyes. She was just full of inane comments this morning. “Thanks. For last night.”

Yikes, that didn’t sound right. She cleared her throat. “For saving me, I mean. From falling off the balcony. And for the ... other stuff. The snake, I mean.”

“Regan.” Felix moved closer to her, his arms reaching out and resting on her shoulders.

“Yes?” She fought the urge to back up. It was really difficult to think straight when he was so close to her.

“I’ll call you.”

He kissed her, a nice long kiss, his tongue making its way into her mouth and teasing hers. Then he pulled back. “Bye. Be safe.”

She watched him open her kitchen door and exit without a glance back.
Be safe? I’ll call you?

What the hell did either of those mean?

“It means you’ve been dumped,” Chris told her in no uncertain terms as he sipped his gin and tonic.

“No, you haven’t!” Jen protested. “Don’t listen to him. He’s a man.”

“Which is why she should listen to me,” Chris said. “I understand the male psyche.”

Regan sipped her glass of wine and frowned at her friends. They were in the courtyard at Pat O’Brien’s playing tourist. Chris had wanted to go out, but Regan hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of a club or bar with loud music, so they had compromised. Now she almost wished she had stayed at home because this was not what she wanted to hear.

“What makes you think I’ve been dumped?”

“He didn’t make plans to see you again. He said he’d call you. Lame.” Chris waved his hand. “Look, I don’t mean to be a bitch—”

“Yes, you do,” Jen interrupted, smirk on her face.

“Shut up,” he told her. “I have the floor right now. You can give your opinion after I tell you all the truth you don’t want to hear.”

Regan smacked at the plant frond that kept invading her space and tickling her shoulder. “Wow, I can’t wait.”

“So, anyway,” he said with a pointed look in Jen’s direction. “If he wanted to see you again, he would have made plans. Plain and simple. And come on, what are the odds he would be walking past your house when you’re about to plunge to your death? He was totally coming over to see you.”

That had never occurred to Regan. “You think so? Why would he be coming over without calling first?”

“At midnight? Hello! Fuck-fest. He was totally going to do the whole, I was walking by, your light was on, thought I’d say hi, blah, blah, blah. Boom, you’re in the bedroom.”

“The way your mind works disturbs me,” Jen said, sipping her hurricane. She adjusted her white tank top for the tenth time. “I shouldn’t have worn this shirt. My boobs look huge.”

“They do,” Regan admitted.

“Massive,” Chris agreed.

They both started laughing.

“Thanks,” Jen said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I think that’s a bachelor party over there. They all keep looking at me and my boobs.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Oh, whatever. It’s only ten o’clock and they’re halfway to shit-faced already. By the time we leave here they’ll all be vomiting in trash cans so you don’t need to worry that they’ll be hitting on you.”

“There’s a beautiful image.” Regan curled her lip. “Can we get back to me please? What should I do?”

“Um, nothing.” Chris pointed his swizzle stick at her. “Chalk it up to a good time and move on. If you call him, you’ll look needy.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” She knew it was the truth, and the absolute last thing in the universe she wanted to be perceived as was needy.

“I would call him,” Jen said. “He probably has no idea if you’re receptive to the idea of seeing him again or not. He may be thinking the same things you are because you didn’t give him any clear signal you wanted to see him again. What harm is there in calling him?”

“Don’t listen to her! If you call, he’s going to slap you in the ‘never want to talk to her again’ box. He’ll think you’re all about a relationship. Whereas if you don’t call and you bump into him three months from now, you can totally have sex with him again.”

That was so not the way Regan thought; she had to repeat Chris’s sentence in her head twice to make sure she understood it. How would zero contact result in future sex? It boggled the mind.

“You’re seeing him next week at the party,” Jen said, slapping her drink back on the wrought iron table. “Oh, my God, he’s not going to cancel, is he? That will screw my whole entertainment schedule up.”

“I hope not. I mean, he would have told me, right?” Though she didn’t know why she would assume he would tell her. What did she really know about him, after all?

Nothing, and she was annoyed with herself for spending the whole damn day glancing at her cell phone every ten minutes to see if he had called. Which he hadn’t.

“Probably.”

“Thanks for the reassurance.” Regan fiddled with the rim of her glass. “So let me ask you this. Assuming he never calls me again, what does that mean? What went wrong? I mean, I thought the sex was, well, great. Did he not like the sex?”

“That’s not what it means at all. It just means you had great sex, but he’s not looking for a relationship. It’s not like you were dating, you know. So if he liked the sex, he’ll probably call you in a few weeks and see what you’re doing.”

“A few weeks?” Great. Fourteen days of wondering if she had sucked in bed.

“And keep in mind that if he does call you it will be for sex. You’ve established yourself as a booty call since you slept with him so fast after no actual dating.”

Regan knew Chris was right, but she didn’t want to hear it said out loud. “Do we have to use the term booty call? Can’t we just say we’re two adults who wanted to have sex with each other?”

“Call it what you want”

“Regan, do you want a relationship with him?” Jen asked, looking skeptical. “I mean, it’s only been four months since you left Beau. I don’t think it’s such a hot idea to jump right back into something serious.”

“That wasn’t my intention.” She didn’t think. Hell, she didn’t know what her intentions had been. She had just known she wanted Felix, plain and simple.

“Then why do you care if he calls or not?”

“Because I don’t want to be rejected. I had enough of that in my marriage: ”

Her friends made those faces, the ones that showed you had revealed too much. They both instantly went into sympathetic.

“Sweetie.”

“Oh, Regan.”

She waved her hand. “No, it’s fine. It is. That’s why I left after fourteen months. And no, I don’t see myself in a relationship with Felix, but no, I don’t want to be blown off either. Who would?”

“It’s not being blown off,” Chris insisted. “It’s casual sex. We had this talk ... I knew this wasn’t an outfit you could wear.”