Desert of Desire (4 page)

“It’s a veritable Garden of Eden. And here I sit with Eve. All I need now is an apple and I’ll be in deep, deep trouble.”

She swallowed hard. “Let me know if you see a snake.” Writing and gardening weren’t the man’s only talents. He got high marks in the charm department as well
even though he couldn’t possibly mean it
.

Kelly returned carrying a sizzling platter and set it in the center of the table. “Dinner’s served.” He laced his fingers together. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be heading out now.”

Beau
nodded. “See you T
uesday. Thanks for everything.”

Eve looked from one man to the other.
Didn’t he live here with
Beau
?

As
Beau
served them each a tortilla, she cleared her throat, summoning her courage. “Why isn’t Kelly joining us?”

“Kelly? Why would he?”

“Well, isn’t he your…don’t you two…”

“What?”

She tried to find the right words, but couldn’t. “Never mind. Your personal life is none of my business.”

He burst out laughing. “Wait a second. You thought Kelly was my lover?” He slapped his thigh. “Oh, Eve. Why didn’t you say something before? I must have confused the hell out of you. Kelly cleans and occasionally cooks for me.”

Heat rose to her face. The fact that he wasn’t gay sent nervous tremors through her entire body. “Well, you can certainly understand me jumping to that conclusion, can’t you?”

“
Let me assure you, though. I’m straight as an arrow.”

“He seems almost…possessive of you.”

Beau
’s smile faded. “He probably is. I’ve helped him out over the years. I volunteer at a crisis center in Flagstaff. Kelly wandered in one night, frightened and strung out.”

Something tugged at her heart.
Beau
Calloway might prove more complex than her usual
fluffy celebrity
subjects. “Tell me about your involvement with the center. What’s it called?” She loaded her tortilla with strips of steak and vegetables.

He held up his palm. “I don’t want this in your article, Eve.”

She exhaled sharply. “Why not? It’s part of who you are. That’s what I’m supposed to report on.”

“I won’t exploit my volunteer work.
That’s not why I do it.
Can’t your story concentrate on my writing, my work with gardens? I’m a very private person. I only told you about the center because you asked about Kelly. How do you think he’d feel if he read the article and saw you make mention of it?”

She sipped her wine and studied his features, lit by the fire. His strong jaw quivered. She had no qualms exposing a married celebrity’s affair or a socialite’s indiscretions. They got what they deserved as far as she was concerned.
Beau
’s volunteer activities fell into a different category all together. She needed to piece the puzzle together for her readers, create a picture of the reclusive author that would knock Jacoby’s socks off. It could mean a raise, which she desperately needed.

But she couldn’t bring herself to violate his trust. “I see your point,” she finally said. “I’ll leave that out of my story.”

“Thank you.”

As they ate in the comfortable solitude of the garden, strategically placed solar lights glowed brighter, casting a subtle glow against the darkening sky. The foliage took on a different tone at night.

After they’d finished eating, they sat on the swing, drank wine and talked for hours. Eve checked her watch, still on New York time. “It’s nearly three
am for me
. No wonder I’m so sleepy. Would you mind giving me a lift to my hotel?”

He stood and set his glass on the table. “I know this is really presumptuous, but I have a perfectly good guest room. Sure you don’t want to stay? I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

The problem was she didn’t want him to be a perfect gentleman. She imagined him taking her in his strong arms and kissing her—all over. The chilly night air proved no match for her steamy thoughts. Fanning her face, she shook off the fantasy. She was an adult, not a teenager with raging hormones. Surely she could control herself.

But s
taying here would mean they’d have more time together tomorrow
,
for the interview. “If you’re sure it wouldn’t be a problem.” She got off the swing.

The sparkle she’d noticed several times returned to his eyes. His face grew darker, more sensual. “It would be my pleasure.”

The fire in the chiminea had gone out, but it still burned in Eve’s core as they stood close, neither uttering a sound.

Beau
’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’ll show you where the guest room is. Let me grab your suitcase.” He disappeared inside the house.

Eve took a moment to catch her breath, then followed him into the kitchen. He led her to a large bedroom with a sleigh bed and an antique dresser. A picture window
looked out on
the garden. She sat on the bed, tired yet exhilarated by her attraction to the man. Realizing she was alone with a near stranger in a
bedroom, she shot off the bed and
retreated to the doorway.

Beau
closed the drapes. “Bathroom’s the first door on the right. Let me know if you need anything. My room is next door.” He lifted her suitcase onto a bench then crossed the room to where she stood. They were inches apart. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but he remained silent.

Her
heart pounded against her ribcage. Desire rushed through her. It had been too long. “I guess this is goodnight.
Thanks again for your hospitality.”
Why couldn’t she just act upon her impulses, which told her to kiss him.

He took a step out of the room. “Right. Goodnight.” He closed the door.

She leaned against it, listening for his footstep. Finally, she heard him walk away, then a door closed. Minutes later, she lay in the soft bed, thinking about him. Her
body
longed for his
touch, but her mind intervened.

She tried to ignore the stirring between her legs but the need refused to abate.
She
slid
her hands over her breasts, felt the nipples tighten to needy peaks.
Closing her eyes, she imagined Beau touching her, kissing her lips, her breasts, the hollow of her throat.

Muscles deep inside her pulled taut. She pictured Beau laying beside her, cupping her mound, asking her for permission to make love to her.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, yes.”

He slipped a finger inside her, in and out in perfect rhythm.
She lifted her hips, moving up and down on the bed as she’d always wanted to but never had the nerve.

Then she was naked, bared for him as he pushed between her thighs and teased the head of his cock against her entrance.
She spread her legs farther apart, silently giving him permission to proceed, to fill her.
He pushed inside her heat as her intimate muscles clenched in welcome.
With each thrust he went deeper and deeper, satisfying her need.

His rock hard body moved over her, his eyes never releasing hers as he stoked, taking her closer and closer to her peak.
She detonated, convulsed with pulses of pure pleasure.

Eve opened her eyes to the empty room as the last waves of her orgasm ebbed.
She grasped the sheet in her fist and shut her eyes, hoping to find herself back in her fantasy. But it was gone.
He
was gone.

What’s the use? In a few days, she’d be back in Manhattan chasing socialites and movie stars. A fling with
Beau
would only end in heartbreak—probably hers.

Chapter Two

A sliver of sunlight forced its way through the curtains and nudged Eve awake. Propping herself on her elbows, she took in her surroundings. The room had to be almost as big as her entire apartment. Memories of the previous day drifted to her consciousness and made her smile.

A wave of excitement rolled over her skin her knowing she’d spend the day with
Beau
. She reluctantly left the soft, warm confines of the bed and pulled open the curtains. Blue, yellow and pink flowers welcomed her.

After a quick shower she put on a white sundress then ventured into the kitchen in search of coffee. She found none, but the sound of running water pulled her out the French doors into the garden. Ever
ything smelled clean and fresh.

A vase of purple blooms graced the table. She touched their soft petals, marveled at the velvety texture. Expecting to find yet another fountain, she took a few steps behind the chiminea, along a cobblestone walkway.

She froze in her path when she realized the sound she’d heard came not from a fountain, but an outdoor shower.

Beau
faced away from her scrubbing his hair, his tan skin covered in soap. She stood there, mesmerized, unable to move. Her gaze traveled from his muscled shoulders to his powerful back, narrow waist, tight ass and rock-solid legs. She bit her lower lip to ward off t
he stirring between her thighs.

Didn’t work. Her heart thundered and her breathing grew ragged. Pushed by an unseen force, she edged closer and watched him rinse his body, his hands sluicing over his slick skin. She
halted
only a few feet from him, squashing the little voice t
hat told her to stop and think.

Beau
turned his head towar
d her and opened his eyes wide, obviously as surprised
by her presence
as she
. A grin slowly curled a corner of his lips. He extended his hand and Eve took it, moving closer.

Silently, sensuously, he pulled her into the shower. He took her face in his hands and brushed his lips over hers.
A pleasant ache settled low in her belly.
Her eyes slid lazily shut as he kissed her softly, his tongue dancing gently with hers. He tasted of mint, and she couldn’t get enough.

She wrapped her arms around his torso, her hands exploring the muscled contours of his back. Evidence of his arousal pushed agains
t her stomach. She skimmed her hands over his
buttocks and heard his low moan of desire.

Beau
’s kisses burned a trail over her neck, down her chest.
Her head spun with warnings, but she pushed them all away. This wasn’t about thinking.