But I didn’t know if everything was all right.
I sure as hell didn’t know how to get away from my own guilt. How could I help her with hers? She was the therapist, not me. I stayed seated, willing my body to relax. This was her office. She hadn’t come to me like she had the last time. When she’d rushed toward me and launched herself at my heart, I hadn’t known what to do. So I’d done nothing, just held her, and then she pulled me down for that kiss—that amazing kiss.
I had never experienced a kiss like that. Never. Not even in my younger days.
“Melanie? Are you going to answer me?”
“I…”
“What?”
“I just can’t. I can’t tell you how to get over the guilt, Jonah, because I just don’t know how to do it for myself.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. You’re the best of the best.”
“I specialize in childhood trauma. Not adult guilt.”
“Then why did you agree to see me?”
She shrugged, looking away. “Talon asked me to. He was worried about you after you were found nearly beaten to death. And I also didn’t realize…”
“What?”
“That we would…” She sighed.
“That we would be so attracted to each other?”
She nodded.
“Well, I’m about as attracted to you as I’ve ever been to anyone. You’re beautiful. I can see everything in those gorgeous green eyes of yours. You’ve felt things, experienced things. And physically, your damn near perfect. Your blond hair is like silk flowing over your shoulders, and your body—”
She looked away. “There’s nothing special about my body. Nothing special at all.”
“While I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing it—unclothed, that is—I think you’re probably wrong about that.”
“I’m not curvy enough. I’m too tall.”
“You don’t look too tall from where I’m standing.”
“Most men aren’t as tall as you.”
“My sister stands near six feet tall. I’m used to tall women. I like tall women.”
She said nothing, just chewed on her bottom lip.
“Listen, I’m attracted to you, and I know you’re attracted to me. Okay, so we both have issues. Maybe we both need some therapy. But can’t we get to know each other? It’s been a long time since I met a woman who I want to get to know, Melanie.”
“I’m not who you think I am.”
“I know you’re brilliant. I know how far you brought my brother in just a few months. And I know you’ve done that for others as well. So you’re feeling a little inadequate right now. Don’t we all feel like that from time to time? I’ve felt inadequate for the last twenty-five years of my life.”
“I have no business being in a relationship with you or anyone.”
Fine. “Who said anything about a relationship? Why don’t we just go to bed?”
She blushed from her forehead down to the tips of her fingers. My guess was she was pink all the way to her toes, though she was wearing pumps and I couldn’t see them.
“So I’ve embarrassed you?”
“I’m not used to men being so forward.”
“Hey, you started this. You kissed me the other day, remember?”
She blushed even rosier.
“Melanie, I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. I’m not even asking for anything beyond tomorrow. But why not? I fucking want you so much I can’t see straight. Let me take you to a hotel. Let me take you into my bed. I promise you that you won’t regret it.”
Chapter Eight
Melanie
I was too weak to resist him. He wanted me, and I wanted him. No reason to look beyond tomorrow.
In a pink haze, I somehow ended up in a suite at the Carlton with Jonah removing my clothes. I hadn’t said more than a few mumbled words since we’d left my office.
He brushed my blouse off my shoulders, and his breath caught on an audible inhale. “I don’t know why you said there is nothing special about your body. You’re beautiful.”
I warmed all over. With my pale skin, I easily colored like a raspberry.
He unhooked my bra, and my perfectly average breasts tumbled free.
Again I heard his breath.
“My God.” He sighed. “So fucking beautiful.”
He set me down on the bed. Then he lifted my hips and pulled my stretch pants and beige panties over them, down my legs, and off.
I sat there, naked, forcing myself not to cover my chest with my arms. Thankfully, I had shaved my legs yesterday, but my dark-blond bush was in full glory. I didn’t shave down there. What would he think about that?
I ceased worrying when he began to take off his clothes. He unbuttoned his paisley western shirt, and I bit my lip. With each new inch of bronze that was exposed, my heart beat faster. And then a little faster. A smattering of black and silver chest hair grew around his coppery nipples. He removed his shirt and slung it over the back of a chair. He sat down next to me, and I sneaked a look at his crotch. Sure enough—the bulge.