Who the hell was this woman?
Jason pulled back the instant before their mouths met and stared into her eyes. It was Monica on the outside. No doubt about it. Same traffic-stopping smile, blue eyes and long blonde hair. Same body with surgically altered boobs and lipo- sculpted hips and tummy. Same long legs that made every guy on the planet drool when she wore a short skirt.
But inside there was something different. Could amnesia be the cause? Would it change her into a completely different human being? He highly doubted it. Monica was still Monica.
It might be close to impossible, but somehow he had to remind himself of her more devious side. The one that had tricked him before, taken advantage of his impulses to take care of the women in his life. Monica would not wiggle her way into his heart again!
He shook his head, trying to clear it, and hoping the motion might send some much-needed blood to his brain. She’d come very close to seducing him, but he’d make sure she didn’t succeed. While he nursed his guilt for having had her car hauled away, even if for a valid reason, he’d keep an eye on her until she had a means of transportation she could afford to maintain on her own. After that, he’d cut the ties. No need to cling to her any longer.
Just one night. Come hell or high water, by tomorrow he’d make sure she had a car. She wouldn’t need his help any longer.
He just had to make it through one short night. Eight, maybe ten hours.
Unfortunately, based upon the expression on her face, she wasn’t about to make it easy for him. If there was one thing Monica knew, it was how to play him. Damn her for being so good at it!
They were over, he reminded himself. She’d sold his grandmother’s collection of pottery for peanuts, for God’s sake. She’d treated him like a convenient ATM for the past year, pushing a few buttons until he paid out. It had gotten to the point where he’d been disgusted with himself every time he succumbed, but damn it, he couldn’t seem to help himself. Weak. He’d been weak. But not anymore!
Gathering up what remained of his wavering will, he gently nudged her forward. “Let’s get upstairs before one of us falls.” Both literally and figuratively. Damn, he wanted her. Something fierce. He wanted to taste her, to feel her, to hear her sigh his name as she climaxed. He wanted to hold her until morning. He wanted to serve her breakfast in bed and lie next to her, smoothing her sex-tousled hair after she ate. Stop it now or you won’t be able to resist.
“Jason?” She reached forward and rested a palm against his cheek. “Would you believe me if I said I was truly sorry?” I want to believe that but I can’t. I’ve heard it too many times before. “No.”
“I wish we could start over again. Pretend like we were complete strangers and do things right.”
Why are you telling me this now? Damn it, stop! I can’t listen to this. “I can’t. We were never right for each other. We want very different things in life.” “Well, maybe I’ve changed my mind.” He gave her another gentle nudge and she took several steps up before stopping and turning again to give him another imploring look, batting eyelashes and all. “No way. It’s too late for that now. We can’t go back. We can’t change who we are, although you seem to be making one hell of an effort. You’re you. I’m me. And together we make a mess.”
She smiled and her eyes glittered playfully. “A mess. I like that.” Turning, she climbed the rest of the stairs and walked straight to his bedroom door. “Can I stay in this room?” “No. That’s my room. You know that.”
“Even so, you said I could stay in any room I wanted.”
Shit. I should have known she’d do this. “Fine, but I won’t be sleeping in there with you.” He opened the door and followed her inside.
“Will you stay for a little while? Can we talk? I’m still a little shaken from earlier. I don’t think I can sleep.”
“I have cable TV. Watch a movie.” He pulled out a pair of sweatpants from a drawer and handed them to her then walked back toward the hallway and safety. He was confused, didn’t know his mind. While her outside—her physical beauty—did nothing for him anymore, the mystery of what she seemed to have become inside absolutely fascinated him. He could spend all night talking to her, trying to discover who she was. It was as if someone else had taken over Monica’s body. Of course that was impossible!
“Please?” She walked across the room and opened the bathroom door. “I promise we will just talk. Nothing more.” He felt his resistance draining.
“Pretty please? You can stay way over there,” she said pointing at the love seat positioned in front of the fireplace. “And i'll stay over here on the bed. I won’t do anything naughty. We can just talk.” “Fine.”
She beamed. “Thanks. Be right back. Gonna go change.” She went into the bathroom.Feeling both defeated by his lack of willpower and intrigued by the opportunity to talk to the woman who had overnight become a fascinating stranger, he dimmed the lights, lit the gas fireplace and sat in the loveseat. Then he prayed to God for strength and turned as he heard the bathroom door open.
She bounded out with far too much energy considering the hour and flopped on her stomach on the bed. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked.
“Do you have any ice cream? Late night gab sessions aren’t the same without Ben and Jerry. Oh, and nice fireplace. It’s very romantic.”
“It was chilly in here,” he offered as an excuse, feeling guilty as if he’d done something wrong. He decided not to take a stab back by pointing out the fact that she never ate ice cream, always lectured him about how bad it was for him. She had to know what she was doing by acting like her antithesis. “I might have a little bit left. Want me to go down and check?”
“I’ll go with you.” She rolled off the bed and followed him down the hall. “Chocolate Therapy is my absolute favorite. You don’t have that flavor by any chance, do you?”
Of course I do and you know it. That’s my favorite. “I might.”
They walked through the kitchen and, leaving the lights off, Jason dished out two bowls of ice cream. Monica stood waiting by the French doors, staring out into the back yard. “Can we eat out there?” “It’s cold. You’ll freeze your butt off. You freeze when it’s eighty.”
“I’ll be fine with these warm sweats. Come on.” She opened the door, stepped out on the deck and looked out onto the yard. “Wow, this is gorgeous. I like those lights. Just enough so you won’t walk into a shrub or fall into the pool. But not too glaring.”
“You have always hated this backyard, called it The Jungle.”
“I did? Well, it is very lush, but now that I see it again, I think it’s lush in a good way. I like all the green. I feel like I’m on vacation on some tropical island. Can we sit over there? Oh! Is that a hot tub?”
He handed her a bowl. Of course she knew it was the hot tub. Why was she acting this way? “Yes.”
She ran across the deck, plopped onto her behind at the rim of the sunken tub and, setting her bowl aside, pulled up the sweatpants above her knees and dipped her feet into the steamy water. “Oh, this is heavenly.” Picking up her dish, she spooned some ice cream into her mouth. “Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself.” She patted the wood deck next to her. “Come and sit with me. Promise I won’t bite. My mouth is busy at the moment.” He couldn’t help grinning as he sat and took a bite of ice cream.
“Do you still appreciate how spectacular this place is? I mean, sometimes when we’ve had things for a while we take them for granted.”
He glanced around the yard and nodded. “Yeah. I guess I do kind of take it for granted. I don’t get to enjoy it much. Don’t have the time.”
“If you’re too busy working to keep it, then what’s the sense in having it at all? If you ask me, you should consider simplifying your life, cutting back. You’ll be a whole lot happier if you do. Who wants to live for a house? It may be straight out of a House Beautiful magazine, but if you have to work twenty hours a day to keep it, what’s the point?” Just last week Monica had made a comment about him needing to buy a bigger home, something more showy. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks. So, does that mean you’re okay with a smaller, more economical car?”
“Oh yes. I’m perfectly fine with that.” She ate another bite of ice cream, licking the spoon before dipping it back in the bowl. “I mean, I love the Lexus. It is total class. But I don’t need it. I’m through trying to put on airs for people. I’m not what I drive or where I live. I’m me.”
“That…” Sounds nothing like the Monica I know. “…sounds like a change for the better.” “Are you surprised?”
“A little. You’re acting very different from yourself tonight. I wonder if tomorrow when you wake up you’ll be back to your old self or not.”
“Me too. Though I’m enjoying myself this way.”
“So am I,” he heard himself say before he could stop. She smiled again. “You’re a straight shooter. I like that.” “I appreciate honesty too.”
“And you’re generous. It wasn’t your fault I didn’t pay my insurance and it wasn’t your fault I didn’t check my answering machine this morning. Yet you fed me, let me stay here tonight, and you’re treating me so nice—even letting me polish off the last bit of ice cream. I don’t deserve it. Heck, you’re buying me a new car. What guy does that for his scatterbrained ex-girlfriend?”
He finished his ice cream in one big bite then swallowed, welcoming the chill as it cooled his throat and stomach. “I didn’t mean for you to be stranded.”
“I know. You did what you had to.” She scooped more ice cream into her mouth and licked the spoon again. “I completely understand. You don’t owe me. You don’t have to pay my insurance.” “There was a time—not too long ago—when you claimed I did.” “Well, that was mighty greedy of me.” She set her empty bowl aside. “Now I’m cold.” “Told you.”
“Mind if I take a dip in the whirlpool?” “No. Be my guest.”
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“What’s that matter? It’s not like you haven’t skinny-dipped in the hot tub before.”
“Oh…yeah…right.” She visibly swallowed, showing an unexpected glimmer of uneasiness he hadn’t expected. He couldn’t begin to count the number of times he’d seen her nude before. Never once had she been self-conscious, not even the first time they’d made love. Why the sudden case of embarrassment? What the hell was going on? * * * * *
