Bedded for His Pleasure: Bedded by a Bad Boy / In the Gardener's Bed / The Return of the Rebel

‘Say what?’ Monroe felt a trickle of guilt.

‘I screwed up. I know that,’ Linc replied. ‘I shouldn’t have tried to give you the gift at Emmy’s party. It was too soon. You weren’t ready.’

‘It’s not that,’ Monroe said, the trickle now a bitter torrent.

‘You don’t have to pretend with me, Roe. I know we don’t know each other. But we were brothers once. I wanted you to remember. I was pushing you. I shouldn’t have.’

Seeing the torment in his brother’s face, hearing it in his voice, Monroe knew he couldn’t hold out any longer.

‘I do remember.’ He watched Linc’s eyes jerk to his, saw the rush of emotion in them. ‘I remember you always gave me birthday cards. Some of the ugliest drawings I’ve ever seen in my life.’

Linc shrugged. ‘I was never much of an artist.’ His gaze was intent on Monroe’s.

‘I remember when I was ten.’ Monroe’s voice cracked a little, he cleared his throat. ‘The last one you ever gave me. You said it was the Silver Surfer. Looked more like an icebox with wings.’

‘Hey, I thought that was one of my best.’

‘It meant something, Linc.’

Linc nodded, but didn’t say anything.

Monroe swallowed, forced himself to continue. ‘When you gave me that gift by the pool, it brought it all back. How it was when you were there, what it was like afterwards, when you weren’t.’

Linc sighed. ‘Hell, I didn’t mean to bring all that back, Roe. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be an ass.’ Monroe’s words were sharp, angry. ‘It’s always there. So what? It doesn’t mean a damn thing any more. You took me by surprise, that’s all. The duffel bag’s great, by the way. Just what I needed.’Seeing the pleasure in his brother’s face, Monroe realised he should have said something much sooner. ‘Thanks. It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had.’

Linc put his hand on Monroe’s shoulder, squeezed and then let go. ‘Not better than the Silver Surfer card, surely?’ His voice was thick with emotion.

Monroe grinned. ‘You got me there—maybe not quite that good. But pretty damn close.’

Ali’s words of advice were still ringing in Jessie’s ears when she tiptoed through the garden that evening. It was nearly midnight. The grass was cool under her bare feet as she skirted the Cape Myrtle trees, their branches bending under the weight of their summer blooms. She’d waited until the house was quiet before coming out. She could see the lights from Monroe’s apartment blazing as always in the darkness, beckoning her back to him. The smell of lavender scented the sea air, making her smile with the romance of the moment.

She would tell him tonight. Ali was right. Monroe should know how she felt. Her love wasn’t some burden that he would have to bear, after all. It was a joy, a gift. He could take it or refuse it or put it to one side and think about it. But whatever happened, she wanted him to know about it.

She remembered the difficulty he had had in accepting Linc’s gift. The symbolism seemed so clear to her now. That was why she’d been afraid to tell him. Because she knew he wouldn’t know how to respond, what to say. It seemed cowardly to her now. She felt so happy, so confident. He was the right man for her. He might be unsure of himself but he didn’t have to be unsure of her.

She glanced up at his apartment window and saw his tall, lean figure standing next to the glass. He was watching her from the window. Her heart leapt into her throat. Her lover was waiting for her. She gave a quick, delighted wave, picked up the hem of her skirt and ran round the side of the building to join him.

As Monroe watched Jessie disappear from view, the weight of the guilt he’d been carrying around all day got heavier still. She had looked eager and so beautiful, the reddening twilight shining off that mass of fiery hair.

Bewitched, that was what he was. She’d cast some sorceress’s spell over him. He was so desperate to hold her again, his hands fisted at his sides. It was getting harder and harder for him to contemplate letting her go.

When he’d bumped into her that afternoon and she had whispered that she was coming over tonight, he should have told her no, made some excuse. But he hadn’t been able to. Not while he could smell that fresh scent of hers; not while she’d been looking at him with that combination of desire and trust that drove him insane.

So he’d told her to come, that he would be waiting. But as he heard her feet, light on the steps up to the apartment, as he turned and watched her step into the room, he knew that tonight he would have to start the process of drawing away from her. He would have to start putting the brakes on. He would have to let her see that there was no future for them.

‘Monroe, don’t look so forbidding. I’m positive nobody heard me.’Jessie ran across the room and clung onto his strong frame.

He hesitated for a moment, then his arms came round her, and he hugged her to him. She could feel the rough stubble against her forehead where he’d forgotten to shave again that morning. She could smell the wonderful musky scent of him that made her knees tremble.

‘I missed you,’ he said.

Jessie’s heart stuttered at his words. Could he possibly have said anything more wonderful? ‘Me, too.’

He pulled her dress off her shoulders, pushed her bra straps down.

‘I can’t wait. Is that okay?’ That he should ask, the need and arousal thick in his voice, made her heartbeat skip again.

‘That’s good, because neither can I.’ She laughed as he lifted her into his arms.

He carried her into the bedroom and in seconds they were both naked. There was little foreplay tonight, for none was needed. She was so giddy with the feel, the smell of him, that when he touched her core for the first time she was already slick and ready.

His tongue thrust inside her mouth as his fingers probed gently, stretching her and then retreating, stroking the swollen nub and making her cry out.