What a Woman Wants (13 page)

“You lose,” he said grinning broadly by the time she made it to the water. Okay, she would admit that she was a sore loser. She frowned over at him, trying not to notice how his nylon trunks were clinging to his wet body.

“Nice swimsuit.”

“Thanks.” She had decided on a floral one-piece, and there was nothing overly sexy or provocative about it. But from the way he was staring at her, she wasn’t so sure of that anymore.

“I meant what I said the other day about your legs. You have such a gorgeous pair.”

“Thanks again.” His fascination with her legs didn’t bother her, since he wouldn’t be the first man who’d been taken with them. To Virgil they had been just an ordinary pair of legs. She should have suspected something then.

“And as far as I’m concerned, there was no contest,” she said, getting into the water. “So don’t expect a cooked dinner from me tomorrow.”

He smiled. “I’m disappointed.”

“You seem to be the type capable of handling disappointments, Mr. Masters.”

“And what about you, Faith Gilmore? Can you handle disappointments?”

She thought of all those she’d endured in her lifetime, especially her marriage. “Yes, I’ve been known to handle a few and still come out kicking. I learned a long time ago to roll with the punches and not to take some things personal. Life is life, and it can’t always be a bed of roses. Besides,” she said, glancing over at him, “my grand-mother would always say that if there’s never any rain in your life, then you won’t have any reason to appreciate the sunshine.”

“Sounds like your grandmother was a very smart woman.”

“She was,” Faith said, immediately feeling the pang of loss she always felt whenever she thought of her. “I used to wonder if she was my father’s real mother or if he’d been adopted. He was always so serious, and I don’t think Nana had a serious bone in her body—at least not around me. She made all my visits to her house an adventure.”

She glanced over at him, grateful that his body was emerged in water. “What about your grandparents?”

“My maternal grandparents died quite awhile back, but my paternal grandparents are still alive and kicking—and when I say kicking, I mean that literally. My grandmother is on her third husband, and my grandfather is on his fourth wife, with rumors floating around he’s already looking for the fifth. I also heard he wants a woman in her fifties this time around.”

Faith’s eyebrows shot up. “How old is this guy?”

Shane smiled. “He will be eighty-four his next birthday, and so far he’s fathered over twenty-five kids from all four marriages.”

“He’s lived a busy life.”

“And a very potent one. He believes in keeping the Masters line growing.”

“Evidently.”

“What about you? Do you want kids someday?”

Faith sighed. Now that was a dreaded question. If he knew how much she wanted a child, he would probably be surprised. Not to have a child had been Virgil’s idea and not hers. He kept putting her off by saying they weren’t ready.

Deciding to give him an answer, a honest answer, she said, “Yes, I want kids, and I intend to be a good mother.” She quickly added, “Not that my own mother wasn’t, but I just want to be a different mother.” And that was all she intended to say on the matter. “What about you? Would you want to be a father one day?”

His face was firmly set in deep thought when he answered, “Yes, but I’m forty now, so if I wait too much longer, I’ll be attending my kid’s high school graduation in a wheelchair. That might have been fine for Grampa Masters, but not for me. So, I guess you can say the next few years will determine if I ever become a daddy or not.”

“Then I wish you the best.”

“And I do the same for you, Faith.”

They ended the conversation on that note and started swimming, making sure they stayed in the not-so-deep section. From the time her parents had begun bringing her to Hilton Head years ago, she’d loved it, even those days she had to sit on the sidelines and watch others in the water because she hadn’t been allowed to go in— all because of her asthma.

“Let me see how good a swimmer you are,” Shane said, interrupting her thoughts. “I’ll race you over to that boat dock.”

She followed his line of vision and thought,
Good grief, he’s asking for a lot. “
I told you I only started swimming a few years ago, and you can’t get to the pools often in Minnesota.”

“Then this will be great practice for you,” he said. “I’ll even be kind and generous and give you a head start.”

“Then you’re on!” Before he could bat an eye, she’d taken off, refusing to look back. And to her disappointment, it didn’t take him long to catch up with her. His solid, muscled body swam past her with ease.

“Show-off,” she said, smiling into his eyes when she reached the finish line, where he was already waiting.

“Sore loser,” he countered. He then took her hand in his as he led her out of the water. “Come on, let’s go take a shower.”

When she stopped walking, he glanced over at her, read her mind, and grinned. “Separately, of course.”

A few moments passed without conversation, then he said, “You know, you need to stop being so cautious.” His eyes said he was teasing her, but the expression on his face said he was serious.

“Wasn’t it just yesterday you were complimenting me for being cautious?” she said, steadily taking the steps.

“I complimented you on being just cautious, not
so
cautious. You’re going to have to start trusting me sometime.”

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that wasn’t the way she particularly saw things. The simple truth according to Faith Gilmore’s world was that trust shouldn’t come easily. She could date a man without trusting him completely, which meant she would always be on her guard. She doubted that she would ever fully trust another red-blooded man with her heart again, and with good reason.

Instead of telling him that, though, she said, “Trust has to be earned.”

He stopped walking now. “Then will you let that happen, Faith? Will you give me a chance to prove that I can be trusted?” he asked, his voice, deep, low, and serious.

Faith ignored the quick little sensation that suddenly pulled at her heart. Maybe it was the air they were breathing. Maybe it was the aftereffects of an afternoon spent in each other’s company. Whatever it was had her ready to say yes, to tell him he deserved a chance.

Almost.

She knew just how painful a broken heart could be, and that it rendered a person helpless and vulnerable. Trying to keep her voice calm, she tilted her head, forced a smile, and said only, “Be careful of what you ask for, Shane Masters.”

She saw that gleam of interest suddenly revive in his eyes. “When it comes to being careful, I know the score.”

She nodded, and for some reason she believed him.

“
Are you sure
you’re okay, Shannon?” Faith asked, eyeing her friend over her box of Chinese food. When she had returned from Shane’s place, she had found Shannon taking a nap. Then later, when Monique had arrived and Shannon had woken up and got into the Chinese food Faith had ordered, she hadn’t had much to say. In respect for her privacy, they hadn’t pushed the issue.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Shannon looked at both Faith and Monique and fell into silence, keeping her gaze glued to her box of shrimp fried rice.

Monique shifted uneasily beside Faith on the sofa. Something was wrong and they both knew it. After a few more minutes, she couldn’t take a nontalkative Shannon and finally jumped from her seat. “Okay, Shannon, that does it! What did that man do to you?”

Shannon glanced up at Monique. “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t beg me anything,” Monique snapped, worried about her friend. “I want to know what he did to you. He hurt you, didn’t he? He was too rough. Forceful. A brute.”

She began pacing the floor and continued her tirade. “I tried to talk you out of going after this guy, and when Faith told me you had planned to spend the night—with a guy you didn’t even know—I knew that meant trouble.”

She came to a stop in front of Shannon’s chair. “You’re hurting. I can feel it. Tell us what happened so we can get you through this. What did he do to you?”

Shannon fought a smile as she placed her box of food aside. Okay she was hurting, mostly sore in a place she’d rather not mention. And she would admit she’d been rather quiet since returning from spending the night with Adam, but there was a valid reason for it. He had stripped her of her safety net, and she wasn’t sure how to get it back. She’d never felt this vulnerable with a man before in her life.

Knowing her best friends were waiting on an answer, she sighed deeply and met their concerned gazes. “The only thing he did to me,” she began. “Or perhaps I should say the only thing we did to each other was almost screw each other’s brains out for more than eighteen or so hours.”

Ignoring Monique’s openmouthed shock, she added, “And all I can say is that no toy—make, brand, or model—can compete with the real thing when it belongs to Adam Corbain.” And as if her statement was not outlandish in the least, she picked up her food and began eating again.

A half hour
later Shannon entered her bedroom and closed the door. It was early afternoon yet she felt tired. She was exhausted. She was so sexually satisfied, it was a doggone shame. And she remembered it all perfectly. Every hot-tamale detail. All she had to do was close her eyes to recall each and every thrust, every tongue-licking sensation. When it had come to positions, neither she nor Adam had had preferences. They believed in equal rights and were as unconventional as any two people could get.

All he’d had to do was look at her in that area and her legs would automatically come open. She should feel like a hussy, but all she felt was the epitome of a sexually fulfilled woman. A woman who had definitely gotten what she’d wanted.

And with that came a floodgate of problems—most of which she didn’t want to dwell on tonight. At least Faith and Monique had had the decency not to question her any further, and she hadn’t wanted to talk about it. What she and Adam had shared was private, special, and meaningful. Well, as meaningful as hard sex could get.

And that, she had to constantly remind herself, was all that it was. He had the stamina of a damn bull, and she had gone along for the ride—and what a ride it had been. He had turned her slow-moving flame into a full-fledged fire, soaring her to a level she’d never been taken before.

She sighed and stripped off her clothes. She would definitely be paying Adam Corbain a few more visits before putting an end to their affair.

“
You still aren’t
worried about Shannon and that Corbain guy?

Faith cast a glance over her shoulder when Monique, who was dressed for her date with Lyle, stepped out on the patio. Faith had been practicing the swings Shane had gone over with her that day. She could easily tell Monique was still bothered by what Shannon had said earlier, and placing her tennis racket aside, she met Monique’s worried expression. “No, I’m still not worried. Concerned but not exactly worried. She’s always been the most sexually active of all of us—you know that.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing, Monique. Shannon is a grown woman. It’s her heart she’s been guarding all these years, and we both know why. Leave her alone. She’s evidently dealing with a midlife crisis at thirty-three. As always we’ll be here when she wants to talk. Otherwise, we keep quiet and listen. No advice. No reprimands. And,” she added pointedly, “no judging.”

“Besides,” Faith said moments later, amused, “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten my brains screwed out. I wonder how it’s done and, more importantly, how it feels.”

Monique placed her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “Well, don’t expect me to be able to tell you. Things with me and Paul were standard but always good. I prefer the easy-going, nothing wild and crazy.”

Then, deciding that she couldn’t hold it in any longer, that she desperately needed to talk to someone, she said, “But at this point, I’ll take it anyway I can get it. It’s been so long for me.”

Faith glanced over at her. “Just how long has it been?”

Emotion gripped Monique’s throat when she responded. “Three years. Not since Paul.”

For some reason Monique had known Faith wouldn’t look at her like she’d lost her mind or something. She would think that Monique’s sex life and what she did or didn’t do with it was her business and no one else’s. Monique truly appreciated her friend for that.

What Faith did do was tilt her head ever so slightly and ask softly, “Do you think Paul would want you to deny that of yourself?”

Monique shook her head. “No. Paul was the most unselfish man I knew. He would want me to move on with my life and to find someone who would make me happy. I’ve dated several times since his death, but I’ve never felt that connection or attraction to any man to want to go any further than a good-night kiss at the door. At least not until I ran into Lyle.”

Faith’s lips quirked in a smile. “So Dr. Lyle Montgomery turns you on, does he?”

“Like nobody’s business, but I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“You trust him,” Faith said, as if reminding her of that. “How could it ruin your friendship?”

Monique shrugged. “It just might if sex is added to the mix. I’m nothing more than Arnie’s sister to him. He’s nice, mannerly, respectful, and kind. If I were to come on to him, what would he think?”

“Probably what he’s already thinking. That you’re a very desirable woman. And who says your friendship can’t move beyond that? He’s single and so are you.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing, Monique. You worry too much.”

Monique smiled. “I probably do.” She then said, “He invited me to go with him to Beaufort for the weekend.”

“Are you?”

Monique’s stomach fluttered at the thought. “You think I should?”

“Why wouldn’t you go? You know him. He’s evidently a nice guy. And we’re here to have fun, enjoy life, and not cater to anyone’s expectations of us. Remember, that’s Cely’s orders. There’s no reason for you not to go to Beaufort with Lyle for the weekend and enjoy yourself. And it might give you an opportunity to let him know that you want to escalate your friendship to another level, if that’s what you really want to do.”

Monique pursed her lips. “What about you?”

Faith raised a brow. “And what about me?”

“You and your tennis instructor. You like him. I hear it in your voice whenever you mention him. He sounds like a nice guy.”

Faith reached over to pick her racket back up. “He is a nice guy and he’s been teaching me a lot.”
And probably would teach me a lot more if I gave him the chance.

“Well, you might want to take your own advice: have fun, enjoy life, and not cater to anyone’s expectations.” Monique glanced down at her watch. “I better get my purse. Lyle should be here any minute.”

When Monique turned to leave, Faith called out to her. “Monique?”

“Yes?”

“About the trip to Beaufort with Lyle for the weekend. You are going, right?”

Monique nodded as a smile touched her lips. “Yes, I’m going.” As she breezed back through the house and toward her bedroom to get her purse, she felt good about telling Lyle she would be spending the weekend with him in Beaufort.