Free Whose Bed Is It Anyway? by Natalie Anderson Page B

fumbling through his first time. He wasn’t doing that to her or any woman.
    He blanked out the tiny voice telling him that she’d liked it. That she’d wanted it. That she’d been close to coming herself given the way she’d been riding him. And that he’d have gotten hard again in record time.
    He burned inside. There was no getting away from it. He wanted sex. Couldn’t stop thinking about it. These last few months were the longest he’d gone without all his adult life. It wasn’t that he was a player, but he had flings. One nighters here and there. Until the last few months when he’d been back-to-back working.
    He’d fixated on Caitlin because of her proximity, right? So there was the scene, the bars and clubs. Plenty of places to find another woman with come-hither eyes and soft lips who’d let him lose himself for a few hours. Except there was no losing ‘James Wolfe’. His face had been plastered over the cover of the world’s leading current affairs magazine. That image was everywhere over the Internet.
    And way more crucially, there was only the one image in his mind now—Caitlin’s blonde hair draping over the pillow, over him the way it had before. Caitlin’s lips, Caitlin’s eyes, Caitlin’s curvy body. The desire for her had taken root and he couldn’t get rid of it. He ached to pull her beneath him and pin her to the bed. He wanted to take advantage and tame that subversive spirit, that spark within her. He’d tussle and torment her until she was silenced and sated and looking at him with nothing but appreciative pleasure in her eyes.
    He wanted her to look at him as if he were her sex-god hero. How tragic was that? Given he hated anyone else looking at him that way.
    But the way she’d kissed him—hungry, passionate, raw—had heated him alarmingly quickly. Too quickly. He snorted as he flipped her eggs. He’d hardly been a sex god this morning.
    George’s warning rang again in his ears. If she’d had a rough time then she didn’t need him complicating things for her. He shouldn’t ask. Shouldn’t delve. She just wanted her little sightseeing holiday.
    So what he should do was pack his bag and leave before temptation grew too great. He served up the eggs together with the mushrooms and tomatoes he’d cooked onto one of his camp plates. Holding it, he turned to offer it to her.
    One last look into those blue eyes?
    He was doomed.

FIVE
    Leaning against the wall, Caitlin took the plate James offered with a cautious smile. He looked uncomfortably intense. He didn’t resume eating his own meal, leaving his plate to the side of the small camp cooker—next to his iPad. But he didn’t look at that either. He only looked at her.
    â€˜Tell me,’ he said.
    She paused, her fork partway lifted, her mind still on the electronic gadget. Had he been searching? ‘Tell you what?’
    â€˜Everything. Why are you here? What is it you’ve run from? Why did my brother say you could stay here? How do you even know him?’
    She lowered her fork. ‘Why do you want to know?’
    â€˜Why do you think?’
    She rolled her eyes. Didn’t he get that she refused to dance that dance? If he wanted to know, he could explain why or find out for himself. ‘Look it up on the Internet.’ She pointedly looked back at the iPad.
    â€˜I’d rather hear it from you,’ he countered.
    Had he really not looked already? Or was this some kind of test?
    She forked some egg into her mouth and took her time chewing. The guy could cook, she’d say that for him. She had another mouthful because it was so damn good. He stepped alongside her, leaning a shoulder against the wall so he was at right angles to her. Surveying her with that teasing smile on his lips. Clearly waiting.
    He’d be waiting a while.
    But her taste buds suddenly went on strike, her appetite kicking