Chapter 77 77
He grinned again. He took it as a good sign that Sherry was interested in his love life. And it was nice to know there was some level of emotional involvement, despite her determined antipathy. “All right. If you must know, It was never that serious between us, and also she doesn’t want to have kids. The relationship was never going to last long.”
He crossed one ankle over the other and rubbed his chest with one hand as Sherry turned to look at him. Her gaze tracking his every move. She worried her bottom lip. It was crazy because six years ago, if he'd asked her to marry him, she'd have flipped. She'd have said yes in a heartbeat, but now, something about it just didn't feel right. She felt like there was more she didn't know, and it wasn't just about Justin trying to get back at Adam.
“Why do you want kids?” she asked.
Her incredulity nicked him. “I’m on the wrong side of thirty-six. Is that so strange?”
Instead of sitting down, she paced, her nervous energy palpable. “And now you've decided that you want that with me,”
She walked to the window and tugged aside thick brocade draperies. Darkness had fallen and the glass was too frosted to see anything anyway. He couldn’t read her at the moment.
“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked. “Besides the issues between your brother and I, I think we'd make a great fit. We've known each other for years. Who knows, marriage could be the solution to all this animosity,”
Justin knew that there was no way Adam would entertain the idea. The man hated his guts, but he had to get through to Sherry somehow. He'd do anything to get BenTel, and if this was how he'd be able to convince her, then so be it, “And what about you? Are you never going to want a family?”
“I don't know,” she replied. Now she paced behind him, meaning that unless he wanted to stand up and join her, he had no way of studying her expression. He stayed seated and gave her the space she seemed to need.
Her voice was almost wistful. “I’ve never thought about it. I mean, I knew I was going to want it and be ready someday, but I've been so focused on BenTel and my career that I've never stopped to consider it. Let's just say I don't know if I'm the nurturing type and leave it at that.”
He waved a hand over the back of his chair. “Come sit down. And I'll go get you that water,”
By the time he came back with the water, smores and some marshmallows, Sherry was sitting with suspect docility in a chair by the hearth. Merely looking at her threatened his peace of mind. She was the kind of beautiful that made a man’s heart ache. And other parts of him…well, hell. His body reacted predictably.
Trying to ignore the picture she made, he sat back down, clearing his throat. “You know I didn't go back to my room because I was worried you'd do something crazy like try to leave tonight,” he said as he handed the bottle of water to her.
She gave a light chuckle and glanced briefly in his direction, “That would be a stupid thing to do and I'm not crazy, Justin,” she said, “The only person who is tonight is you,”
He watched her drink, his eyes taking in the robe that had slipped down one shoulder, exposing the creamy skin and silky nightwear underneath. He felt that odd frisson of awareness once again, and he wasn’t convinced she knew how her sharp-edged repartee was affecting him. But maybe he was naive. Perhaps Sherry Bennet was planning sexual revenge and knew exactly what she was doing. He couldn’t imagine what that would look like or what her goal could be other than to torment him, but already his body betrayed him.
He wanted to strip her naked and take her there on the rug. Here—and now—he wanted her. Before he could formulate a suitably masculine retort, Sherry stood abruptly.
“I can't remember the last time I had marshmallows.” She said as she stripped off her robe and fanned her face. “I think I'll be the one melting here and not the damn marshmallows if I don't take these off.”
Good Lord. That damned silk clung to her body and breasts with static electricity, outlining pert nipples that riveted his attention. He turned away, shocked by how quickly his arousal segued from piqued interest to heavy, molten lust.
“Here,” he croaked, handing the bag to her . “I’m not going to be responsible for cooking this. Do it your own way.”
“Thank you,” she mocked. “I will.”
She started to roast them and then laughed when her marshmallow burst into flame. The sound of that husky, sensual chuckle did to his insides what the hot fire had done to puffy white sugar.
He was ablaze suddenly, so hungry for her he was actually stunned.
“Blow it out,” he said. “Before you ruin it completely.”
She waited two clicks—two interminable seconds—and then she did as he commanded. “You just can’t stand not to boss me around, can you?”
“I'm not,” he insisted. “You’re in charge.”
She snorted. “Yeah right.” Reaching for her s’more sandwich, she trapped the marshmallow between the other layers.
“You’re gonna burn your tongue.”
Sherry bit into her messy s’more and groaned. “Wow. These are amazing. Great idea to bring them, Justin.”
He pulled his perfectly browned marshmallow from the fire and made his own s’more. The melted chocolate and marshmallow smelled wonderful. But he couldn’t look away from Sherry. Firelight painted her classic features with warm, golden hues. Her mouth was sticky with sugar and chocolate.
“You’ve got some on your chin,” he said gruffly.
She reached up, eyes dancing with laughter, and rubbed a spot. “Did I get it?”
“No.”
Lick it. Kiss it. Make her want you like you want her. The little devil on his shoulder had gotten crazy. But something stopped him. A dead certainty that this time he didn’t want to screw things up with Sherry. He'd already pissed her off once tonight, so he took his thumb and rubbed it across the side of her chin.
“There,” he said, throat dry. “All clean.”
The smile disappeared from her face, and her eyes widened, something unidentifiable flickering in the depths of her wary gaze. “Thank you.”