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When Lightning Strikes

When Lightning Strikes (Whiskey Creek #1)(51)
Author: Brenda Novak

The heat of his palms made her ni**les tighten. She told herself to get up and step away, but she could only stare at the sight of his dark fingers against her turquoise sweater. “Something must be wrong with me….”

His thumbs moved back and forth, and darts of pleasure raced through her. “No, there’s not,” he said, his lips against her neck.

She could hardly breathe. She wanted to let those well-sculpted hands delve beneath her top and really touch her. But she was determined to be smart about Simon. “I mean, there must be something wrong with you if you think I’m going to fall for that,” she said, and knocked his hands away.

She’d thought he’d straighten and laugh it off as if touching her hadn’t meant anything to him, anyway. As if it had been some sort of test to see what she’d do. But he didn’t. When their eyes met in the mirror, she could plainly read his disappointment.

God, no wonder he could get any female on the planet, she told herself. It wasn’t just his celebrity and appearance. There was an emotional honesty about him she found oddly courageous. Maybe he didn’t always feel the way she might like him to feel, but he didn’t hide the truth.

“What would it hurt?” he murmured. “You’re my wife.”

He wanted the physical intimacy a regular wife would give him. But he wouldn’t be happy if she wanted the emotional intimacy a regular wife would expect in return. “I know you’re not used to going without, that it’s been a few weeks—”

“Ah, shit. Don’t patronize me,” he said, and walked out.

Gail sat there for several more minutes. She was waiting for the tingling in her br**sts to subside. But every time she thought of Simon touching her with that intense look in his eyes, the sensation came back.

Finally, she told herself to quit being an idiot and went downstairs.

“Should we drive around and see if we can find any for-rent signs?” she asked.

He was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and didn’t even bother to look up. “I’ve decided a for-sale sign would work just as well.”

“You want to buy a house?”

“I’m just saying I’ll take what I can get.”

Of course. He wouldn’t want to stay with her father and brother any longer than necessary, and she couldn’t blame him.

“You’re mad at me.”

“Frustrated,” he said.

“Simon—”

“But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine. Let’s just…” She swallowed hard, feeling at a loss because she was frustrated, too, even torn. “Pretend nothing happened,” she finished. “Come on.”

Picking up the remote, Simon snapped off the TV and followed her through the kitchen. They were just stepping outside when Kathy called.

“Is it true?” the Realtor squealed.

Distracted by Simon, who insisted on driving even though she thought she should probably do it this time, since she knew her way around, Gail didn’t immediately understand what Kathy meant. “Is what true?”

“That you married Simon O’Neal?”

Sometimes Gail couldn’t believe it herself. “Yes.”

“Oh, my God!” Kathy shouted. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

“Kathy—”

“What’s it like to sleep with him?” she asked.

Gail froze. This was the last question she’d expected from middle-aged, happily married Kathy Carmichael. Simon was so famous, people thought they had some sort of claim on him, which gave them the impression they had the right to ask such personal questions.

Simon had obviously overheard. He glanced up to see what her response would be.

“He’s not all he’s cracked up to be.” She wasn’t sure why she said that; she just couldn’t stop herself from needling him.

Whatever Kathy said was lost on Gail, who was too focused on Simon.

“You keep saying stuff like that and you’re going to have to give me the chance to prove you wrong,” he told her.

Which was exactly what she wanted him to do. She was just afraid of what might come after. “Kidding!” she told Kathy. “He’s amazing, of course. Just looking at him makes me drool.” She stuck her tongue out so he wouldn’t take that seriously.

“The truth at last,” he murmured sarcastically.

“Lord, you and me both, honey,” Kathy was saying. “I’ve seen  Shiver at least half a dozen times. The way he makes love to Tomica Kansas in that movie is beyond anything I’ve ever seen. All I have to do is hear the musical score and…” Her voice softened. “Oh, my.”

Gail didn’t want to think of that movie but the images danced through her brain, anyway. “Don’t hold your husband accountable if he can’t duplicate that scene,” she said. “I’m sure the director had a lot to do with it. And the music. And the magic of make-believe. Sex is never messy on screen.”

Simon settled behind the wheel of her car. “Keep talking. You might actually believe it one day.”

She couldn’t respond to him. Kathy was murmuring, “You’re one lucky girl, darlin’. That’s all I’m saying.”

Eager to change the subject before she had to hear any more, Gail cleared her throat. “Thanks. Do you know of any places we can rent for three months, Kathy?”

“Only one that’s good enough for Simon.”

Gail covered the phone. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sounds hopeful.”

“I’d better not run into this very often,” she told him.

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“The way people gush over you is so ridiculous it makes me sick.”

“Is that why you’re looking at me as if you’d like to tear my clothes off?”

She gaped at him. How could he see through her so easily? “You’re so conceited!”

“What did you say?” Kathy asked while he laughed.

She removed her hand from the phone. “Sorry, I was talking to Simon. I told him you have just the place.”

“I do,” she said. “It’s the old Doman mansion. You know it, don’t you?”

“Of course. But…that’s up for rent?”

“For sale. Why would someone like Simon pay rent, especially in your hometown, where you’ll be coming again and again? This is pocket change for him.”

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