On Her Terms - Cathryn Fox

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      “Got in yesterday.” His gaze moves over me again. “Do you want to get out of those clothes?”

      My pulse leaps. But then it settles quickly when I realize what he’s asking. Oh, how I wanted to hear those words from him all those years ago.

      “Yeah, I probably should,” I say. Okay, Bri, this is the perfect opportunity for seduction. “Do you have something I could slip into? A pair of sweats, maybe.”

      “I have a T-shirt,” he says. “And gym shorts. No sweats.”

      “That should do.”

      He goes to the dresser and comes back with a T-shirt that will float on me and a pair of shorts with no drawstring. I point to them. “Ah, those won’t work.”

      “Probably not.” He puts them aside and hands me the shirt. He gestures with a nod. “Bathroom is in there.”

      “I know where it is,” I say as I saunter across the room.

      “That’s right. Your granddad owns the resort, doesn’t he?” I nod as I step into the bathroom and leave the door slightly ajar as I change. “What’s with you and him, anyway?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “You seem tense around him.”

      Luca always was a smart guy. Very astute. I’ll have to play it careful around him. “He won’t stop pushing me to get married,” I say truthfully. No need to fib about that.

      “Ah,” he says.

      I take off my wet clothes—bra and panties included—and shrug into his warm shirt. “Ah, what?”

      “Nothing,” he says, but before I can press he continues with, “So, you’re not interested in marriage?”

      “Hell no.”

      I come out from the bathroom and walk to the closet housing the washer and dryer. I bend slightly and toss my clothes in. When I stand and turn around, Luca’s glance is slowly lifting from where my ass had just been.

       Okay, girl, here goes nothing.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      Luca

      MY EYES LIFT from her ass, and when I catch a small smile on her lips—clearly I’m busted—I tear my gaze away. What is going on with her? One second she’s acting like she doesn’t know me, and the next she’s aiming her sexy ass my way. I’m pretty damn sure she’s aware of what she’s doing and is trying to get a rise out of me.

       Well done, Brianna. It worked.

      I turn from her and pretend to do something in the kitchen sink as I adjust my cock. Her bare feet graze the wooden floor as she walks around the chalet and it’s all I can do to keep my shit together. A whooshing sound reaches my ears and I turn to find her flicking on the propane fire.

      “Still not warm?” I ask, even though the sun’s been beating in through the windows of the chalet all day and it’s a million degrees. She holds her hands out in front of the fire to absorb the heat.

      “Not yet,” she says.

      “Maybe you should jump in the shower,” I say as beads of perspiration dot my bare chest.

      “You think a warm shower will help?”

      “For you, yes. Personally I need a cold one,” I say, and when she wipes her tongue over her bottom lip, I groan. “It’s so hot in here,” I explain, not wanting her to think I need a cold shower to cool down my dick, which just happens to be the truth.

      “Well, you weren’t swimming in an ice-cold lake,” she says and pokes the air with the tip of her finger.

      I shrug. “You’re right, I wasn’t.”

      “Go ahead and take a cold shower if you want.” She turns back to the fire. “My clothes will probably be ready by the time you get out.”

      “No, I’m good, but I’m going to change into shorts.” I grab the pair I’d offered her and make my way to the bathroom. As I pass Brianna, she’s adjusting the thermostat, turning it up higher.

      “Keep that up and I’m going to end up in my birthday suit.” I say without thinking and close the bathroom door. What the hell? Get your mind off nakedness. Her soft chuckle reaches my ears and I wonder if she’s really that cold, or if she’s just jacking up the heat to get me out of my clothes. Shit, all she has to do is ask.

      Wait, no. I am not going to have sex with Brianna. No way. No how. Not even if she asks.

      Okay, maybe if she asks.

       Cazzo!

      I kick off my pants, and as I glance at my swollen dick, I take it into my hands and consider rubbing one out. In my current state it wouldn’t take long, and Brianna would be none the wiser. I pull from the base to the crown. Heck, I should probably ease the tension before something ruptures.

      “Maybe the hot tub will help,” she calls out. The click of the patio door opening reaches my ears, and I close my eyes and try not to visualize her in that hot tub naked.

      Again with the nakedness.

      “Good idea,” I say. Fuck, is that my voice? I open the bathroom door and walk to the patio just in time to see her peel my shirt from her shoulders and climb into the water. Naked.

      My God, she has a beautiful body. Her curves are less pronounced than they were years ago, but she was as breathtaking then as she is now. She settles into the tub, leans her head back and stares up at the night sky.

      Not wanting to startle her, I speak quietly, avert my eyes even though she’s covered now by the water frothing from the jets. “Can I get you a drink?”

      “Do you have any wine?”

      “Yeah, I’ll be right back.” I hurry to the kitchen, and my hands are a bit shaky as I pour her a glass of wine and grab a beer from the fridge. I pop the cap and down half of the liquid in one swallow. With my cock jumping in my shorts, I step outside and the heat of the night falls over me.

      “Join me,” she says as I hand her the glass.

      I wipe moisture from my brow. “I’m too hot as it is.”

      She presses the glass to her parted lips and takes a drink. A drop settles on her bottom lip, and it takes every ounce of strength I possess not to lean in and lick it away.

      I clear my throat and her gaze settles on me. “So, your grandfather is after you to get married,” I say for lack of anything else.

      “Yes.”

      “And you don’t want to.”

      “No.” I settle into one of the Adirondack chairs, and her eyes narrow in on me. “What?”

      I shrug. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

      She lifts her chin slightly. “You don’t know me well enough to make that call. In fact you don’t know me at all.”

      I take a pull from the bottle. “I know a few things.”

      “Oh?” she says, an almost worried look crossing her face.

      “I know you went to Oxford, and that you’re a lawyer. I know you’re Tate’s cousin, and that you two were close growing up. I know you make a mean apple pie.”

      “I guess I know a few things about you, too,” she says, almost under her breath.

      I lean toward her. “Such as.”

      She waves her hand and water splashes over me. “You’re a corporate lawyer and work for my cousin.”

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