The Widow's Bachelor Bargain. Teresa Southwick
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good at not answering questions.”
“Lots of practice,” he admitted. “Okay. It’s a hard habit to break, but I’ll stop sidestepping. When Josie mentioned that you were meeting friends it sounded like fun and I did deliberately crash the party.”
He couldn’t speak to how hard it was being a single mom and needing some downtime. But he knew how it felt to be a fish out of water, a big fish in a little pond and craving some social time. Not to mention being curious about Maggie. He braced himself for a grilling about following her.
“Why would you do that?”
“I needed to talk to someone about something other than work.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “I understand that. And then my friends asked you to build a movie theater.”
“It’s actually a great idea. The resort is going to bring in a lot of people. They’ll be looking for entertainment involving something other than skiing or boating and water sports.”
“Speaking of entertainment...” She tapped her lip. “Is it true that a woman once broke into your hotel room and waited in your bed? Naked?”
He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“So it is true.” She leaned forward, warming to her subject. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”
“By definition, breaking into my hotel room is bad.”
“Surely not the naked part.” Her tone was teasing.
“Whose side are you on? I was the injured party.”
“You sound like an outraged spinster. I don’t understand your problem. Was she fat? Cellulite? Abs weren’t prime-time ready?”
“She had a lovely body. Hotel security thought so, too, as did the police. Why would this be okay because I’m a guy? She violated my personal space.”
“I see what you mean.” She scooted to the edge of her chair. “There was another story about you spending millions of dollars on breakup baubles.”
“Baubles?” That’s one he hadn’t heard. Apparently he wasn’t aware of all his publicity.
“Yes. Diamond tennis bracelets. Emerald pendants. Sapphire earrings. If this is true, it could explain why women throw themselves at you. Naked,” she added.
“For the tasteful parting gift?”
“Yes. That’s a heck of a consolation prize.”
“Well, it’s not true.” The only woman who’d received a significant parting gift was his wife when he divorced her for cheating on him. Getting rid of her had been worth every penny it had cost him. He didn’t care so much for himself. The mistake had been his, as were the consequences. But she’d hurt his family and he’d paid the price of protecting them. And he would do it again if necessary.
“There was another story that got a lot of attention. Something about you not being very good in bed. And a very bad kisser.”
“Your friends didn’t ask this many questions,” he pointed out.
“Maybe their minds aren’t as inquiring as mine. In all fairness, less-than-satisfied lady was one of the women scorned and the story had all the signs of being about revenge.”
He stood. “How do you remember this stuff?”
“It’s fascinating.” She stood up, too.
“Well, I feel like an exhibit at the zoo.” He was an inch away from her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body and smell the sweet scent of her skin. “I think I hear the microwave signaling your plate of food is warm.”
“So was it about revenge? Or are you lacking in the romance department?”
“Is there any way to make you stop this interrogation?”
“Feed me.” She met his gaze and there was a sassy expression on her face. “Or kiss me.”
It wasn’t often that someone surprised Sloan, but Maggie did now. He remembered her saying this wouldn’t hurt a bit, but now he wasn’t so sure. The question was whether or not it would hurt more if he didn’t kiss her. Hell and damnation, this was a dilemma. But he didn’t get where he was in the business world by not taking a risk.
He curved his fingers around her upper arms and pulled her close, his gaze intent on her mouth. “I’ll take door number two.”
Maggie had no idea why she’d dared Sloan to feed or kiss her, but when his lips touched hers she was really glad he’d picked the second option. His mouth was soft, gentle, tentative and tempting all at the same time. Her heart was racing and her knees were weak, but he was holding her and she trusted him not to let her go.
He whispered against her mouth, “Any more questions?”
“Hmm?” The only question on her mind was why he wasn’t still kissing her. “I can’t think of any.”
“Okay, then.” He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, then kissed her again.
It felt so good to be held and touched, wrapped in a pair of strong arms and pressed against a man’s body. She was pretty sure her toes were actually curling, and it was the most wonderful thing that had happened to her for longer than she could remember.
Time seemed to stop and she wanted to stay suspended in this sensuous dimension. Right here, right now, while she kissed Sloan Holden on her patio under the stars, there was no guilt, worry or doubt about being a single mom. She was simply a woman enjoying everything about being female and savoring this bold man who wasn’t afraid of a challenge. Sloan slid his fingers into her hair, cupping her head to make the pressure of their mouths more firm. His breathing was unsteady and it was thrilling to know she’d affected him, too.
And then she heard Danielle cry out. The sound came through the open window and reality rushed back like a slap in the face. She was a mother first and foremost. Maggie froze, waiting, and the sound came again, pouring in along with guilt, worry and even more doubt about her ability to do a decent job of raising her child alone. Look how easily this man had distracted her.
She took two steps back, away from the warmth of his body, and hating herself for missing it. “I need to check on my daughter.”
“Right. Of course.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Do I need to apologize for that?”
“Is that what your gut is telling you to do?”
He shook his head. “But the look on your face right now is making me think it might be a good idea.”
What he was seeing on her face probably had more to do with astonishment. She had believed the part of her that could be turned on had died with her husband. But she was so wrong. Sloan had stirred something up and she wanted to settle it back down again.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was my fault.” She played with her fingers, twisting them together nervously. “I have to go to Danielle.”
And begin the process of forgetting about this kiss.
* * *
Several days went by and Maggie realized she was looking at time passing and putting it in two columns: before and after that kiss. She saw Sloan at breakfast and dinner, doing her best to go back to being his hospitable, professional but friendly landlady and not the woman who’d challenged him to kiss her. She talked to him as little as possible and he didn’t push the issue by striking up a conversation. And there was a conclusion to be drawn from that. He regretted the kiss, too.
She set a platter of scrambled eggs and hash browns on the dining room table, where Sloan and Josie were sitting. The