Kara Lennox - Tame An Older Man

"Well, if you followed me, you know the horrible truth now," she said, feeling almost violated. Going to college was nothing to be ashamed of. She knew that. But it was part of her dream for the future, and after seeing other high-flown, much-bandied-about dreams shattered, she now preferred to keep hers very private.

"Is he going to marry you?" Wyatt asked quietly.

"What?" Had she missed some vital part of the conversation? "Who?"

"The guy. On the library steps?"

Phoebe almost laughed out loud. "You mean Richie?"

"Yeah, Richie-whatever. Isn't that what we're talking about?"

"Not that I knew of."

"Look, I know it's one of my business-"

"Damn straight." Too restless to continue sitting, she jumped up and paced to the balcony railing.

"-but if you're determined to get married, surely you can find a better prospect than a beanpole college kid barely old enough to shave."

Try as she might, Phoebe couldn't make sense of what Wyatt was saying. "Where did you get the notion I wanted to get married? That is the last thing I want or need right now."

He joined her at the railing, making her wish she'd stayed in her nice, safe chair. She couldn't think straight with him so close, smelling so good. Even the way he breathed was sexy.

"I know it says in that book that you shouldn't broadcast your intentions," he said, almost gently, "that it makes you look desperate, but-"

"What-" she started to ask, but then realized she knew exactly what book. While she'd been changing clothes last Monday night, he'd been snooping on her bookshelf.

" 2001 Ways to Wed ," he said, confirming her suspicions. "Don't bother denying you've read it, I saw it in your apartment, and I saw you'd made notes in the margins."

She was stunned, insulted, and maybe a little relieved at the way he'd constructed an alternative reality from the little bits of information he'd gathered from her life.

"How dare you presume…" But she stopped there and changed tack. "Guess there's just no fooling you, Wyatt Madison." What else could she say? If she told him the book was for Daisy's sake, not hers, she would be violating Daisy's privacy.

Anyway, it was safer if he thought she was husband-hunting. For one, he'd definitely give her a wide berth. No confirmed bachelor wanted to be trapped or manipulated into walking down the aisle.

"I know Jane Jasmine recommends taking classes to meet the man of your dreams," he said, "but I don't think she meant for someone your age and, er, maturity level to set her sights on, well, someone like this Richie."

"What's wrong with Richie?" she couldn't resist asking.

"He's too young for you!" Wyatt exploded. "Does he have a job? Hell, he probably lives with his parents, or in a dorm!"

"He has an apartment, I think, and he's an engineering major, which means he'll have a high-paying job the moment he graduates. But what does that matter? I would never marry a guy just because he has a good job."

"Then what do you see in him?"

Phoebe knew she should tell Wyatt the truth. Richie was a study buddy. Actually, she tutored him . Instead of paying her, he brought her lunch every day, giving her a few extra precious minutes to decompress from work. But again, it was easier if she let Wyatt assume what he wanted to.

"Richie is very sweet," she said.

"I'm sure he is, but Lord, Phoebe, you can do better. Are you sleeping with him?"

"You know, Wyatt," she said, finding this conversation less and less humorous, "you're sounding an awful lot like you're jealous."

The stunned look on his face was almost comical. "No! I just don't want to see you ruin your life by jumping into marriage with… with…" He sagged a bit. "Hell, yes, I'm jealous," he muttered. "If you want a husband so bad, why was I never even in the running?"

Phoebe's heart just about stopped beating. She'd only been trying to get a rise out of him. She hadn't imagined he really was jealous. His honesty, his willingness to make himself vulnerable, touched her as nothing else could. It was time to stop playing games.

"You were in the running," she said. "A top candidate for a while."

He looked at her, surprised. "And you ruled me out because…"

"Because Daisy said you weren't right for her."

Wyatt just stared at her as the puzzle pieces clicked into place-in the right order, this time. She was helping Daisy find a husband. Duh. Hadn't she been trying to set him up with Daisy the night of Elise's engagement party?

Now, because he'd misunderstood, because he was so damn competitive, and because he'd had a bruised ego the size of Arizona, he'd all but asked Phoebe to marry him. Their hands almost touched where they rested near each other on the balcony railing, and she looked at him with those luminous blue eyes, as if she expected something.

What had he done? How was he going to escape the trap he'd set and thrown himself into?

But suddenly he didn't want to escape. He wanted to be enfolded in Phoebe's slender arms. He wanted to kiss her incredible mouth and drink in the taste of her, the scent of her that he could never quite get out of his mind. He wanted her long blond hair to spill over him the way it had the other night, like spun white-gold silk.

"So you're not marrying Richie?" he asked in a hoarse voice, just to be sure he really understood.

"I'm not marrying anybody, including you." It sounded like a promise, a solemn vow, the way she said it. Her eyes held a certain sadness. But they also held invitation.

He could think of a million reasons why he shouldn't kiss her, and only one reason he should. He wanted her like he'd never wanted a woman in his life. All the reasons he should send her home melted away in the face of his growing passion. With great deliberation he reached for her. With a little gasp of surprise she took a step back-into one of the cactus plants. She yelped and sprang forward right into his arms.

Right where he wanted her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, holding her gently so she could get away if she wanted to.

Apparently she didn't, because she tolerated his light embrace.

"Darn cactus."

"Good cactus," he crooned, sifting a handful of her incredible hair through his fingers. Then he bent down to claim what was his. His for the moment, anyway.

She didn't resist. If he'd felt even a tiny hesitation he'd have stopped, refusing to be just another Taylor Shad in her life. But she moved eagerly into his embrace, winding her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in his hair. He could feel her warm breath on his cheek and taste the coffee she'd just drunk. It was enough to make him want to start drinking the stuff.

"Wyatt," she whispered, breaking the kiss and breathing heavily.

He felt her soft breasts rising and falling against his chest. It would be so easy to slide one hand inside the loose overalls.

"Please…" she almost moaned.

He stopped his gentle assault on her neck, falling completely still. He must be crazy to come on so strong. He was acting like an animal.

"I'll stop," he said, though it cost him. He focused his mind on brussels sprouts and visualized burying himself in ice cubes.

"No. I mean, don't stop." She kissed him again, desperately, greedily.

He buried his face in her hair. "I hope you're not relying on my self-control to stop this, because I just used up the last of it."

"Make love to me, Wyatt."

He was a little surprised by the directness of the request but not stupid enough to turn her down. "You're sure? This has nothing to do with the fact that I sign your paycheck?"

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?"

Her eyes had gone all heavy-lidded and dreamy. She licked her lips, which just about did him in, then started to kiss him again.