I Married a Master(43)
Author: Melanie Marchande

My heart was throbbing now, too, as much as I didn’t want to admit it.

"I don’t know," I said, cautiously. "Just a safe assumption, I suppose."

"Never is a long time," she said. "Can I tell you a secret?"

I had a feeling I was going to regret this. "Yes."

She grinned. "I think you’re gonna have to buy me a new dress every time we go out. It’s this Pavlovian thing. Every time I put on the other one, I get all…" She made a series of vague hand gestures. "A-flutter. You know what I mean."

Unfortunately, I did.

"And now this one’s gonna have the same problem," she whispered. "You know how I can tell?"

Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

"I know I should bite my tongue." She sighed, gripping my bicep like she was drowning, and I was her only lifeline. "But damn it, Mr. Chase, I want you so bad right now."

I groaned out loud, letting my head hit the back of the seat.

Chapter Seventeen

Ben

It didn’t take as long as I’d feared to get her trundled into bed, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen waiting for her on the nightstand. She was sleepy and pliant by the time we got home. Her eyes shone with trust, which I hadn’t earned, but would never dare betray.

Of course, I had my limits. I let her kiss me goodnight. Once. On the lips, but no tongue.

And once I was locked in my own bedroom, I didn’t even bother to shuck off my jacket or loosen my tie before I sought the relief my body so desperately craved. My clothes had felt like a prison all night, chafing against my skin, my collar too tight, and my jacket might as well have been asylum-issue. But now, with my back against the door, all I did was unzip with shaking hands and bring myself off with a few vicious strokes.

It was embarrassingly quick, even considering the ordeal I’d just been through.

Ordeal. All I did was spend the evening in the company of an attractive woman. I was thinking about it like I’d been through a war. What the hell happened to me? When did I become such a pathetic sex fiend?

I couldn’t let this happen again. Another night like this, and I’d actually lose my mind. It was like junior high all over again. I had no self-control, and no ability to think beyond the various ways in which my body craved to connect with hers.

As if that wasn’t enough to make me feel like a waste of space, there was the way she reacted to me. And the fact that it just felt right. Of course she liked me. Of course she wanted me. That was the way it should be.

Look, it’s not like I was some caveman, but I grew up watching the same movies everybody else did. Work hard, get smart, triumph over those who want to drag you down, and you win a girl.

Every. Damn. Time.

Her wants and needs, hell, her personality, didn’t even seem to enter into the equation. She was always just sort of wandering around the sidelines with a vacant smile on her face, waiting for more poor schmuck to discover that the power was inside him all along. And then, boom, the bra and panties went flying off.

I knew the real world didn’t work that way, but nobody ever bothered to explain how it did work. So I guess when I met Daria, and she seemed to already like me for some inexplicable reason, I figured my work was done. I didn’t have to keep working to hold her interest; I’d won her already.

But you should know better, Chase! You’re a God damn billionaire scientist – what’s wrong with you?

Hell, how should I know? The smartest men in the world turn stupid when women are involved. It’s a proven fact. What chance did I have?

***

Amazingly, by the time I came downstairs, Jenna was already awake.

I’d taken my time getting ready, assuming she’d be asleep well into the mid-morning. But I’d forgotten that conversation with Maddy that implied they’d once both been veteran drinkers, and even if Maddy had fallen behind because of her pregnancy and breastfeeding, that didn’t mean Jenna had.

I froze in the kitchen doorway when I saw her, perched on one of the stools. "Good morning," she said. "I made coffee."

She had, indeed. While her face stayed mostly buried in her own mug, I could feel her eyes glued to me as I navigated my way around the kitchen, looking for…something. How was it that I was the one feeling embarrassed?

Now that I knew her size, I’d bought a few more outfits for her and stocked the guest room she’d chosen. She looked phenomenal in dark jeans and a simple cream blouse, which was no surprise. But seeing her in that dress last night had opened up a whole new level of appreciation for her beauty on all levels.

"No rush, but I wanted to talk about the terms of our deal," she said, matter-of-factly. "Whenever you’re feeling up to it." Her eyes narrowed a little. "Speaking of which, are you feeling okay?"

"Fine," I said, pouring a cup of coffee. "I know you probably don’t remember this, but…"

"I remember last night." Her voice was remarkably calm, and it was like she was watching me for a reaction. What the hell? Why did this woman leave me feeling so unsteady? I was supposed to be the one in control. "You put up that asshole alpha male front, but you’re really a perfect gentleman." She smiled.

"Thanks," I muttered, staring into my coffee. "But I don’t know if that really qualifies as gentlemanly." A sudden thought came to me, and I glared at her. "Were you acting?"

Her cheeks went slightly pink. Finally. "Maybe a little," she admitted. "I did have quite a few drinks, though."

"Oh, my God." I buried my head in my hands. "Well, I know who I’ll be nominating for the Oscar."

"Come on, don’t take it like that." She reached out and nudged my arm. "It was only, like, thirty percent played-up."

"Which thirty percent?" I looked up, blearily. "Or do I not want to know?"

Her mouth twitched. "A good magician never reveals her secrets."

"Fuck me." I gripped my coffee mug. "You’re not a magician, Jenna."

"We’ll let the Academy be the judge of that," she said. "When you’re ready to talk turkey, meet me in the library."

Well.

That settled that. I had a few ideas of how could sweeten the pot, so to speak, to merit the extra favor on my part. Given her behavior, it seemed appropriate to pick the most devious one.

Two could play at this game.

After a series of deep, calming breaths, I walked into the library and sat down at my desk. She watched me with mild interest, until I folded my hands and spoke.

"I thought of a way you could lend some credence to our relationship," I said. "But as a fair warning – you’re not going to like it."