What's Yours is Mine (14 page)

Instead, he’d dragged the spare blanket out of the closet and made that makeshift bolster. It was as much to protect her from him as the other way around.
 

And now she was moaning and moving her hips in tiny rotations. His cock jumped like it had a mind of its own, and his balls ached with need. But if he followed her lead, it would be blindingly obvious. The male anatomy didn’t lend itself to quiet, subtle movement. He had to lie here and endure.
 

Darcy let out a louder moan. Involuntary, it sounded like. His cock responded by beating out a distress signal against the sheet.
 

What would she do if he threw off the covers and grabbed her right now? His brain felt foggy with need, his groin throbbed painfully, and she was obviously intensely turned on less than a foot away.
 

No. Be sane. Think past this moment.
The aftermath would be disastrous. It would entangle him with her. He didn’t do that, didn’t allow that kind of messy emotional complication in his life. And this wasn’t just any woman, it was Darcy Jennings. Talk about complicated. One time in the heat of anger and shock, they could call that an accident. But twice? That would mean something. Too much. Far more than he was prepared to admit he felt. If he did. Which he didn’t. Tonight would make everything that much harder. He wasn’t capable of terribly sophisticated thought right now, not with all the blood going to fuel his engorged penis, but that much he knew.
 

Bad, Will. Bad, bad idea. Do not do it.
 

There she went again, thrusting her ass against the sheet, sending a quake through the thin fabric brushing against his aching cock. He couldn’t stand much more of this. Not without losing his last vestige of good sense and doing what his body was screaming for him to do.

He had more self-control than that. He did.
 

He did.
 

Did he?
 

Self-control. Will, hold on. Breathe. Slow and deep. Just breathe.

~*~

In her fantasy, Will was driving into her, hard and fast, his hands holding hers above her head, trapping her so she had no choice but to succumb to the extreme, thrilling pleasure of it as he thrust into her again and again and oh and my and thank God he’d finally come to his senses and—

She came, throbbing against her fingers.
 

It felt small and disappointing to return to reality. Sticky fingers and the man of her erotic fantasy slumbering on the other side of this silly barrier. Keeping his distance.
 

Still, now she could sleep. Which was the whole point, right?
 

She was starting to drift off when she felt the bed move. Will got up, padded quietly to the bathroom, and closed the door.
 

Had he been awake? She opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling in dismay. Oh God, had he known what she was doing? She felt like curling up into an embarrassed little ball and never coming out from under the covers. How could she possibly face him tomorrow?
 

From within the bathroom, she heard a strange choked noise.
 

Was he okay?
 

She hastily got up and hurried over to the bathroom. As she got closer, she could hear more clearly. His harsh breathing interspersed with a breath-quiet moan.

Oh.

He’d known what she was doing, all right. But he hadn’t been laughing at her. Far from it. Awareness flooded her. That hadn’t been a mere inconsequential reflex of an erection she’d witnessed earlier; Will was as turned on by this situation as she was. As turned on by her as she was by him.
 

Oh. Wow.
 

She crept back to bed, perversely afraid of being caught observing him in the act.
 

Sex between the two of them—knowing, conscious, we’re-doing-this-because-we-want-to sex, that would be problematic, right? Sex had a way of lowering barriers, making people feel more intimate than they really were. It had a way of making people forgive the unforgivable, no longer looking out for their own best interests. It had a way of making people stupid.

And she had a feeling that that kind of sex with Will, that kind of going-in-with-your-eyes-wide-open sex, would make her very stupid indeed.

Chapter Eleven

The insistent chime of the doorbell interrupted Will’s dream, a dream in which he was wrapped around a luscious female body, only it wasn’t sexy. Their fingers were laced together, her hair tickled his nose, and he dipped his head to caress the tender slope at the nape of her neck with his lips, breathing in warm woman, savoring a comfort and peace he hadn’t felt in far too long. The peace of home.
 

It brought back hazy memories of a cozy kitchen, being ever so young, banging on a pot lid with wooden ladles to the rock song playing in the background while his mother and sister danced around the kitchen, wearing pot holders as silly hats. Memories of flames licking along the edge of logs in a brick fireplace; marshmallows that fell, blackened into the fire; laughter and hugs and silly voices. Memories he’d long suppressed, but that came back in a flood, triggered by warmth, scent, closeness, and comfort.
 

In his dream, he snuggled closer even though he chose not to associate a name with the woman. He simply knew, somewhere deep inside, that this woman resonated with him, that being with her like this felt
right
.
 

Then the doorbell rang, and he woke up with a jolt. To find himself wrapped around a woman, all right.
 

Darcy. His unwilling housemate. His complicated adversary.
 

Who seemed to surface at the same moment. She stiffened in his arms, jerked away, and scrambled out of bed.
 

So did he, nearly falling to the floor in his haste. Where was the damned rolled-blanket divider?
 

He stumbled over it on his way across the room. It had fallen in a pile at the foot of the bed. So much for barriers.
 

The doorbell rang again. Why did people think seven a.m. was a civilized time to make house calls? Will grabbed his bathrobe and headed out of the bedroom.

Tim Farrow stood on his doorstep, wearing jeans and work boots.
 

“Finally. Not like you to sleep in, Will.” Tim looked him over with a knowing gleam in his eye.
 

Will ran his hands through his hair, trying to un-muss it, trying to collect his thoughts. “What’s wrong with the phone? Is there some kind of emergency?”

Tim came inside without asking permission. “I’m heading to the Canterbury job site. Thought I’d drop by on my way.” He looked around, noting the elliptical. “She’s moved in, I see.”

Will grunted. “Looks can be deceiving.”

Darcy emerged from the bathroom, brushing her teeth. She’d put on sweats but was still wearing that damned titillating T-shirt. She
really
must not know how much it revealed.
 

She startled when she saw Tim. “I figured it was a package or something, at this hour.”
 

Will gestured toward her state of undress. “I think he can see you weren’t expecting visitors.”

She didn’t get the hint. “What brings you by, Mr. Farrow? Did Janet’s mission succeed? Is someone giving up their condo for Will?”

Tim didn’t answer. He was too busy goggling at Darcy.
 

Will cleared his throat. “Maybe you should put something on.”

Darcy looked confused. “I have—”

Will gestured again toward her outfit. She looked down. Thank
God,
she finally got it. She turned and slunk into the bathroom. He could hear the bedroom door open and close.
 

His body sagged in relief. He’d felt this odd tension, as if her visibility to Tim somehow made him vulnerable too.
 

Clearly, he needed to get a grip on himself.
 

He turned to Tim, who was grinning widely. Will clenched his fists, fighting the urge to wipe that smile off his face. “So what brings you by? Checking to see if we’d sorted out who stays and who goes?”

Tim chuckled. “I had an offer that might help you out, but I’m glad to see you don’t need it anymore. I was worried; I don’t mind telling you now. What a tangle.” He sobered. “Something like this makes everyone look bad. The next time we put a development up for sale, we’d be scrutinized from here to Kalamazoo. And the paperwork, oh my God. The potential lawsuits. I know you wouldn’t have taken us to court, but Ms. Jennings…” He closed his eyes, but then brightened perceptibly. “But now we can actually use this situation as a selling point. Our magical condos, where love blooms along with the bougainvillea.”

Will stared at him, dumbfounded.
 

Tim went on, oblivious. “You’ll need a new mortgage, of course, but we can void out your old ones easy enough, given the circumstances.”

“Tim—”

Tim waved his hand. “Of course, there are details to work out. You two will have to decide whether you each want refunds for part of your down payments. My advice is, just roll it all into the new mortgage, take a chunk out of the principal.”
 

“I think you’ve misunderstood. How did you get the idea…?” But he trailed off. The
how
was pretty obvious. His bathrobe, Darcy’s state of undress, her seeming ease with him while in said state of undress. And clearly neither one of them was sleeping on the couch. Tim had simply made the logical assumption.
 

 
Tim laughed. “I should have let you tell me. Sorry I jumped the gun. But it’s such a relief. Such a simple solution.”
 

“Unfortunately, it’s not. We’re not a couple. We won’t be. There can’t be anything between us, due to—” He paused. How to say this? “Due to past history.”
 

Tim abruptly sat down on the couch.
 

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” But Will sat too.
 

Tim rubbed the palm of his hand over his hair, which was shorn so short, it was more like a pelt. “I’m sorry to hear that. You don’t know how sorry. But you two don’t seem at odds the way you did two days ago. Isn’t there a chance…?”

A chance that he could live with Darcy? Not just as lovers but in a deep, committed relationship? With a woman he didn’t trust?
 

With any woman?
 

He stood up. The thought made him claustrophobic. “No.”
 

Tim sat for a long moment. “I guess that brings me to my offer after all.” He named a figure.

Will stared. It was twice as much as he made in a year. To move out? That was bad business, admitting wrongdoing. And it was a hell of a lot of money.
 

Tim was waiting for his answer. “So? What do you think?”

“I think it’s a bribe.”

 
“I prefer the term bonus. For moving, for making it simple. A fee for a solution.” But Tim was tapping his fingers on the edge of his pants like Morse code, signaling unconscious distress, and he wasn’t meeting Will’s gaze.

This was starting to smell very bad. To test his theory, Will said, “Why don’t you offer it to Darcy?”

“Um, as it happens, this bonus is earmarked for you. Darcy gets less if she moves out, just the original amount I mentioned.”

“Who put up the money?”

Darcy came into the room. Fully dressed, thankfully. “Money for what?”

Tim said, “What makes you think anyone put up the money?”

“Come on, Tim. This is not your style. You’re a straight shooter. But it sure is hers.” He looked at Darcy. She’d put her hair up in a sleek ponytail, her shirt was buttoned up to the collarbone, and her jeans were designer label. She looked slick. She looked like a stranger.
 

“Do you mind telling me what’s going on? And why you’re looking at me like that?”

Will grimaced. “Someone told Tim to pay me off to leave.”

“Really?” Darcy looked intrigued, her head tilted. As if she had nothing to do with it.

Tim jumped in. “No one else was involved. It’s my decision. It’s good business to resolve this.”

“And somehow it’s only resolved if I move out, not if she does?”

Darcy tapped her foot. “How much money are we talking about?”
 

When Tim told her, she whistled and turned to Will. “I hope you don’t think I have that kind of cash lying around! The down payment pretty much cleaned me out. And even if I did, why would I give it to you? This place rightfully belongs to me. I shouldn’t have to pay you off to claim it.”
 

“Your father might see it differently.”

“He’s a retired army officer. He teaches at a university. He doesn’t have this kind of money either.”

“A university in DC. He has connections. Don’t lie.” Will was surprised at the feeling of betrayal that surged in his chest. Just when he’d gotten complacent, just when he’d started to like her. She had a way of sabotaging everything.
 

“I’m not lying! It wasn’t me!”

“Do you deny that you talked to him about this mess? You talk to your parents at least once a week. You said you share everything.”

“You remember that?”

He shrugged, trying to get rid of the arrested look in her eyes. “I have a good memory for useless trivia.”
 

“Useless… Oh… Why bother?” She went over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a banana. She looked like she wanted to belt him with it. He raised his eyebrows, daring her, but caught a glimpse of Tim, who was avidly watching the two of them go at it.
 

Will felt oddly unsettled, as if Tim had seen something he hadn’t meant to reveal. He gritted his teeth. “Who was it, Tim? Who offered me a payoff to clear out of my condo?”

Tim looked uncomfortable. “Someone I trust implicitly to follow through.”

Will frowned. “Who?”

Darcy peeled the banana, looking down at it with a frown.
 

There was only one person it could be. Someone with money, someone who irrationally seemed to want to protect Darcy from the consequences of her actions. Someone she probably ran to the moment she found out she was stuck here with him.