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“It’s complicated.”
“Love always is,” Sharon sighed.
“We’re not in love,” Faith quickly denied, unwilling to perpetuate the misconception.
“I saw the way Vale looks at you.” At Faith’s raised eyebrow, Sharon went on. “He looked at you as if you’re the only woman in the world, as if he would have liked to push you down in the sand and made love to you right there, the world be damned.” She smiled, taking on a dreamy look. “I know love. It’s exactly the same way Steve looks at me.”
“You’re mistaken.” Vale had looked at her with lust because she was convenient, because they were at a wedding and people did stupid things at weddings. Like get married and believe in happily ever after.
“I know Vale,” Sharon boasted. “He wants you.”
Yes, he’d told her that. And, truth was, just having Vale desire her was so much more than she’d ever dreamed possible. So why had she said no?
He hadn’t said the words out loud, but essentially he’d been asking her to have an affair with him. A fling that would last the weekend and be done when they left the magic of the beach.
But she couldn’t say yes, not when she’d be expected to work side by side with him as if nothing had happened.
Lord, how was she going to work with him night after late night now that she knew his kisses tasted of ambrosia?
“Oh,” Sharon cooed, “you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Faith opened her mouth, ready to deny his cousin’s claim, but nothing came out. Nothing at all, because she didn’t know how she felt about Vale. Not any more. From before they’d met, she’d admired him professionally, had known she wanted to work with him, had used every resource within her repertoire to arrange an interview. When they’d met, she’d been thunderstruck by emotion so potent the magnitude had almost blinded her.
She admired Vale, professionally and personally, although she’d hesitate to admit the latter to anyone other than herself. Physically she wanted him, but what heterosexual woman wouldn’t?
This weekend she had the opportunity to be with him and was too scared to accept the risk that chance would change everything between them. Bok. Bok.
Only sometimes change was inevitable, and inevitably her relationship with Vale had undergone a change she couldn’t undo even if she wanted to.
Taking that chance would strip her soul bare, would let him see into her heart, and therein lay the problem.
She didn’t want to give Vale that power over her future. Didn’t want to become her mother, settling for whoever came along because she’d tasted love and couldn’t hold on to it, forever searching to feed a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied.
No, she didn’t love Vale and would never, ever allow herself to be that foolish.
CHAPTER FIVE
FAITH tossed and turned in the enormous bed in the giant bedroom their suitcases had been placed in. How could she sleep when eventually Vale would return? Would be sleeping in the same room? Possibly crawl between the sheets beside her if she didn’t stay awake and order him to the sofa?
Although his family had been nothing but kind to her, she?
??d had a difficult time relaxing. How could she fit in when their conversation ran from spending the month in Europe at their favorite French resort to having their thighs liposuctioned in Beverly Hills?
Which should only serve as yet another reminder of why she shouldn’t become involved with Vale this weekend. Despite how dedicated he was to his career, to finding a treatment or, better yet, a cure for Parkinson’s, the reality was he moved in a different world from that she did.
A jiggle of the doorhandle had her breath catching. Vale.
Peeking through barely open eyes, she took in the outline of his sleek body in the doorframe. So beautiful. So tempting.
Softly, he closed the door, walked over to the sofa and sank down onto the leather. She could feel his gaze on her, could feel his presence so overwhelmingly that she swore the room pulsed with him. His scent. His aura. His heartbeat.
Forcing her breathing to remain even, she closed her eyes completely, feigning sleep. She couldn’t deal with him. Not tonight. Not if she didn’t want to do something she might regret.
Might, because she wasn’t sure.
Perhaps not doing something would be more regrettable than taking action?
She just didn’t know, didn’t have the experience to know, and for that reason she’d pretend to be asleep to avoid having to act.
