Marcus

7

EDEN STOOD IN THE DOORWAY of the coin laundry and gazed at her surroundings through dark sunglasses. “This is nice,” she said. “But why are we here?”

“I have to do laundry,” Marcus replied, flicking the brim of her baseball cap. “In the real world, so will you. Clothes get dirty and you have to wash them.”

“I don’t have to wash them,” she said. “I send them to the cleaners and they wash them.”

“This isn’t the Ritz. Most people wash their own clothes.”

“I know that,” Eden said. There were times with Marcus when she felt like a complete idiot. Yesterday she’d tried to operate his dishwasher and managed to flood his kitchen with suds. Then she’d tried to make toast and set off the smoke alarm. And last night she’d cleaned up cookie crumbs with furniture polish only to have Marcus slip and fall on the hardwood floor.

The past twenty-four hours had been a lesson in how little she knew about day-to-day life. Though she thought she could at least cook something simple, macaroni and cheese from a box had been a disaster. After her fiasco with the furniture polish, Eden had been forced to scratch cleaning off the list of things she could do well. And though grocery shopping seemed like an easy task, the store layout confounded her. If she was a failure at the coin laundry, then she might as well give up her dream of starting a life of her own.

“I know how to do the wash,” she said. “I used to watch Sarah do it. She used to let me push the buttons and turn the dials.”

“Good,” Marcus said. “Then this should go quickly.”

He dragged the duffel bag inside the door and dumped the contents into a wire basket on wheels. Eden smiled as she watched him pick through the laundry. Their clothes were all jumbled together, and anyone walking by might think they were a couple, perhaps even husband and wife.

A tiny thrill raced through her at the thought. What would it be like to make a life with Marcus? She’d been so careful not to allow herself such thoughts, but the longer she spent with him, the more she enjoyed the silly fantasy playing out in her head.

They shared an incredible physical attraction, so their life in bed would never be dull. But was there something beyond that between them? And if there was, how would they go about discovering it?

Eden boosted herself up on a nearby washing machine, kicking off her flip-flops and tucking her bare feet beneath her. “I know why you wanted to do the laundry,” she said. “So you could play with my underwear and I wouldn’t think you were pervy.”

He picked up one of her bras and fingered the lace and satin. “I’d rather play with what’s underneath your underwear,” Marcus said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Eden giggled, removing her sunglasses and glancing around the empty Laundromat. She grabbed the front of Marcus’s T-shirt and pulled him toward her. “We’re all alone here,” she said, straightening her legs on either side of his hips. She wrapped one leg around his thigh and drew him closer.

He gave her a skeptical look. “Eden, behave yourself.”

Unfazed, Eden took his hand and slid it beneath her skirt, pressing his palm to her inner thigh. “Haven’t you ever done it in a public place?”

“Have you?”

She grinned and slid his hand higher. “Believe it or not, I haven’t. Contrary to the stories the press puts out, my sex life has not been terribly adventurous. What about you? Where’s the most exciting place you’ve ever done it?”

He gave her a wary glance. “I think my shower ranks right up there.”

“You haven’t been a very adventurous boy either,” she teased, her hand sliding down to his crotch.

“You asked for the most exciting place, not the most public,” he said, leaning into her until her palm pressed fully against him. “Are you doing this just to get out of helping me with the laundry?”

Eden leaned forward and took his lower lip between her teeth, tugging at it. “I’m really excited about doing the laundry. Can’t you tell?” She moved his hand up a bit higher, enjoying the game and wondering what Marcus’s limits were. How far would he go to possess her? Would his desire be so overwhelming that he’d risk making love to her right here? Or did he have secret boundaries? His hand slid up until it rested at the juncture of her thighs.

Marcus gasped, his gaze meeting hers. “You’re not wearing underwear,” he said.

“All my panties are in the wash. What about you?” She slipped her hand down the front of his jeans. “Oh, I guess yours must be in the wash, too.”

He nodded, holding his breath as her fingers danced along the length of his penis. Almost instantly he began to grow hard, and Eden left her hand where it was, enjoying his discomfort.

“Don’t mess with me,” Marcus warned, sliding his thumb between the soft folds of her sex. He found her clitoris and rubbed it gently.

“Then don’t mess with me,” she countered.

She waited for him to stop, but he’d obviously decided to accept her challenge. Eden smiled as he continued to caress her, surprised at how easy it was to become aroused even in a public place.

Her fingers closed around him and she leaned forward, whispering into his ear. “I know you want me,” she murmured. “I can feel it.”

“I do,” he replied. “But not as much as you want me.”

She playfully bit his earlobe. “We’ll see about that. I think you want me badly enough to imagine me naked. Imagine me lying on your bed, ready for you. Think of it,” she whispered. “You could touch me wherever you wanted. You like to touch me, Marcus, don’t you?”

He groaned as she began to stroke him. A desperate “yes” was all Marcus could manage. He slipped his finger inside her again, then withdrew it in a rhythm that was all too familiar to Eden. Maybe he’d been right. Maybe she did want him more.

The door rattled, and they both turned and watched as an elderly woman walked inside, a wicker basket tucked beneath one arm. Eden waited for him to stop, but he didn’t. Instead his caress became more intense. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized he intended to win the game at all costs. To a casual observer, it wasn’t clear what they were doing. Marcus’s hand was hidden beneath her skirt and Eden’s was protected by the shadow of his opposite arm.

She caught his gaze and smiled. “You want to be inside me, don’t you? Do you remember how that feels?”

He nodded. “Do you?”

“Hard and thick,” she said.

“Tight,” he countered. “And warm.”

Eden felt herself grow faint. For a moment, the power shifted as a wave of pleasure raced through her. A moan slipped from her lips and she fought the temptation to surrender.

“Go ahead,” Marcus urged. “There’s no reason to stop yourself.”

Eden bit her bottom lip hard, the pain making her focus. “You go first.”

“You can’t make me,” he said.

“I can.” Eden leaned forward. “Just imagine my mouth on you. Soft…and warm…my tongue teasing until you can’t think of anything else but how good it would feel to come. If we were alone, I’d do that for you. You’d lie back and close your eyes and I’d-”

Marcus’s free hand found her nape, and he pulled her into a kiss, his moan lost between them. An instant later he came in her hand, her caress suddenly damp and sticky with his orgasm. She enjoyed a short moment of triumph, a satisfied smile on her lips.

The first spasm caught her by surprise, and after that she had no choice but to capitulate. He watched as she came, knowing that he hadn’t lost by much.

“You’re a bad girl, Eden Ross.”

“I can’t seem to help myself,” she said as she withdrew her hand from his jeans.

He arched his eyebrow, his hand sliding along her thigh. “And I was planning to take you to the hardware store after we were finished here.”

“Hardware?” Eden sighed. “That sounds very intriguing, Marcus. There are tools and all kinds of hard things at the hardware store, aren’t there? When can we leave?”

Marcus glanced around. “I think we’d better finish the laundry.” He winced as he reached out and began to toss clothes into the machine next to her, a damp spot seeping through the front of his jeans.

“You could take those off,” Eden suggested, “and toss them in the wash.”

“Don’t you think we’ve gone far enough for your first visit to the Laundromat?”

“You’re right. I’m completely satisfied with the experience,” she said. “How about you?”

He chuckled softly. “The evidence of that is all over your fingers.” He grabbed a towel from the pile and took her hand to wipe it dry. When he was finished, he held up the towel. “Warm water. Towels and sheets go in warm water. Unless they’re white-then they go in hot.”

“Interesting,” Eden said. “Why?”

Marcus opened his mouth, then paused. “I’m not sure. Because it says so on the detergent bottle.” He picked up her bra. “I think this is what they refer to as a delicate. I don’t have any delicates of my own, but they go in cold.”

“Good to know,” Eden said. She watched him fill three washers with clothes, add detergent, then select the proper temperature for each. As far as Eden could tell, she could have learned how to do laundry by reading the detergent bottle. There wasn’t much to it. But the sex was great.

“Now you just put the quarters into the slots and the machines will start.” He shoved his hand in his jeans pocket and winced again.

“Need some help?” Eden teased.

“I think you’ve done enough in there already,” he said.

Eden giggled, then picked up the copy of In Style that she’d brought along to read. Casually she flipped through it, glancing at the photos and finding nothing of interest. But one photo made her pause, and she stared at it for a long time, her breath frozen in her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked.

“Nothing,” she said.

Marcus slowly pulled the magazine from her hand and looked at the picture. “It’s you,” he said, “with some guy.”

Eden nodded. “His name is Andreas. He’s-”

“He’s got his hand on your ass,” Marcus said.

“He’s my boyfriend,” she finished.

Marcus glanced back down at the photo, scowling. “You have a boyfriend?”

“I did,” Eden said. “Up until the time I took off. I didn’t want to face him once everything hit the press. His family is very…well, they’re old European money. His father is a baron and his mother is a Greek princess. They weren’t fond of me, but Andreas loved me.”

“Maybe he still does,” Marcus said.

“I can’t see how.” Eden took the magazine from his hands and studied the photo. “That was such a great party,” she said. “That was Cannes. The film festival. We drank so much champagne, and then a bunch of us went down to the beach and ripped off all our clothes and jumped into the sea.”

“Sounds like fun,” Marcus said, his voice flat.

“I’m having more fun doing the laundry,” she offered. But her words didn’t seem to pacify him. “I don’t miss him.” She drew a deep breath. “I don’t. He was my boyfriend, but it wasn’t like it is with you.”

“You weren’t sleeping with him?” Marcus asked.

“No, I was. But we didn’t…we weren’t-” She cursed softly. “It just wasn’t the same as it is with you.”

He nodded, distractedly rummaging through the pile of laundry. Frowning, he straightened. “I forgot fabric softener,” he said. “I’m just going to run and get some.”

Without another word, he turned and strode to the door. Eden watched through the plate-glass window of the Laundromat as he disappeared down the sidewalk. He’d never seemed squeamish about her past before. Why was he so touchy now?

Eden put her sunglasses back on and picked up the magazine, turning to the photo. She tried to recall the details of that night. It had been fun, but nothing about it had been memorable. In contrast, she remembered all the little details of her time with Marcus: what he’d worn that night on the beach, the sound of his voice when he’d first said her name, the color of his eyes when he’d looked out at the water. Every sensation of every caress was burned into her brain so deeply that it had become a part of her.

No, she wasn’t falling in love with him. From the very start she’d decided that their relationship would be just about sex and nothing more. And until now it had been. She glanced down at the photo again, then closed her eyes, imagining Marcus standing beside her, smiling for the cameras.

Eden’s eyes snapped open and she shook her head. Of all the fantasies that she’d imagined with Marcus, that one was the least likely to come true.

THE NOONDAY SUN WAS high overhead, beating down on Marcus’s back. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm, then grabbed the crowbar from his father’s hand.

“Your ma says you’ve found yourself a new lady,” Paddy said, watching him over the top of the crate.

Marcus worked the nails that held the crate closed. They’d returned from the Laundromat a few hours before. He’d left Eden upstairs with the employment section of the Providence newspaper, determined to help his father. “What else does she say?”

“That she has a name that ties the tongue in knots and that she’s quite fetching.” Paddy raised his eyebrow.

Marcus chuckled. “Fetching?”

“Pretty,” Paddy amended.

“She is,” Marcus agreed. He levered the crowbar against the corner of the crate and popped the top off. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Do you want to hear more?” Paddy asked.

He turned and faced his father, bracing his hands on the edge of the crate. “Not really.”

Paddy shrugged. “There it is. Enough said.”

They continued to work in silence for a few more minutes, Marcus’s mind swirling with a question he’d been anxious to ask. He took a deep breath. “How did you know with Ma? What was it that made you realize you were in love?”

Paddy seemed as surprised by the question as Marcus was that he’d asked it. It was no wonder. Marcus and his father had rarely talked of personal matters. The three youngest Quinn boys had run their lives on their own for so long that Paddy had been left on the sidelines. And Marcus had always taken his questions and concerns to Ian and Dec. But they were in no position to offer advice on this subject. And he was in no position to ask them.

“I-I knew the minute I met her,” Paddy said.

“Come on.” Marcus shook his head. “How is that possible?”

“She walked in the room and I gave my mate a nudge and said, ‘There’s the girl I’m to marry.’ And that’s what came to pass.”

“But how did you know? You must have had some doubts. Weren’t you afraid you were just caught up in the moment?”

“No,” Paddy replied. “I felt it in my gut.” He patted his stomach. “Whenever she wasn’t around, I had this ache, like I’d eaten too many turnips.”

“Did you tell her?” Marcus asked.

“I may have been in love, boyo, but I wasn’t a bleedin’ eedjit. Of course I didn’t tell her. Not straight off, anyway. I would have sent her runnin’ for the hills. She had no interest in me. At least that’s what I thought. I come to learn later that wasn’t the case. She shouldn’t have loved me, but she did.”

“Why shouldn’t she have loved you?” Marcus asked.

“Her ma, your Nana Callahan, didn’t approve. She’d just learned that your mother had inherited that big house in Ireland and a fair bit of money, as well. She was determined to take your mother back there and marry her off to some rich Irishman, not a scrappy fisherman.”

“How did you get her to stay?”

“One night I screwed up my courage and I told her how I felt. I knew she might laugh at me, but I had one chance to convince her, so I tried. And she didn’t laugh.” He grinned. “She cried. Buckets of tears. Scared the shite out of me. She turned over that house and all the money to your grandmother and stayed with me. Even though it caused a terrible row between them, she chose me. Later on, when we could have used that money to pay for her hospital bills, she was too proud to ask. She’d made her choice and she wasn’t about to admit that she might have made a mistake.”

“But she didn’t make a mistake,” Marcus said.

Paddy shook his head. “I don’t believe so. And neither does your ma.”

“You’ve never me told that story before.”

“You’ve never asked.” He took the crowbar from Marcus’s hands and began to pry open another crate. “What’s the use of offerin’ advice if you’re not ready to hear it? Maybe you’re ready now?”

“I guess I am,” Marcus admitted.

“Then what the hell are you doing opening crates with yer da? Why don’t you go tell this girl how you feel? Seize the moment, boyo. It won’t get any easier as time passes.”

“But I don’t know how I feel about her,” Marcus said.

“Sure you do.” His father patted him on the shoulder. “You’re just afraid to admit it. Don’t try to fool yourself. You might lose the best thing to come along.”

Marcus yanked off his gloves and shoved them into the back pocket of his jeans. “You’ll be all right with the rest of these?” he asked.

Paddy nodded. “I can manage.”

As he walked toward the boathouse, Marcus thought about what he might say. But no matter how he tried to parse it, the words just wouldn’t come. Maybe he didn’t love her. Maybe this was all about desire and lust and physical release. There were no words for that and he was just imagining himself in love.

How the hell was he supposed to know, short of-Marcus stopped in his tracks, groaning softly. The only way to gauge his true feelings for Eden would have been to avoid sex.

Wasn’t that just crap? he mused. Had he simply abided by the deal he’d made with his brothers, maybe he’d have been able to figure out how he truly felt. But now he was forced to look at everything through a haze of desire.

Marcus strode toward the boathouse, and when he reached the stairs he took them two at a time. He walked inside the loft and found Eden staring at a box of brownie mix, intently reading the directions.

“I’m making brownies,” she murmured, ignoring his entrance.

Baking, Marcus mused. Another step on her journey through real life. No matter how badly she failed, Eden seemed to meet each new challenge with optimism. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“It shouldn’t be.” She looked up at him and smiled. Once again Marcus was struck by how pretty she was. Her face was scrubbed clean and her mussed hair fell in careless waves. Even from across the room Marcus knew how she’d smell, all fresh and fruity.

He walked over to her and slipped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. He’d become so accustomed to her presence in his apartment that he was almost taking it for granted. But Marcus knew better. He reminded himself that she could be gone in the blink of an eye. He’d do well to enjoy himself while she was here.

“I did it,” she murmured as though making a confession.

Marcus kissed her neck, wondering what household disaster she might have perpetrated this time. “Will it cost a lot to fix?” he asked.

Eden turned around in his arms. “I wrote to my father. Just like you asked.” She reached across the counter and snatched up a sheet of paper and waved it in front of him. “I e-mailed it to his office. Now maybe you’ll quit bugging me?”

Marcus felt his breath freeze in his throat. He’d been pushing her toward this, but he’d never fully considered the consequences if she fulfilled his request. Eden was getting past her mistakes and making amends. Soon she wouldn’t need his protection. She’d go back to the world she knew and forget all about him. “Good,” he said. “I’m sure you’re going to ease his worries.”

“I said I was sorry for the embarrassment I’ve caused him, but I’ve put my problems in the past and I’m getting on with my life.” She smiled wistfully. “And I actually meant it.”

“I would hope so,” Marcus said.

“No, it’s true. Usually when I speak to my father I’m always promising him whatever he wants to hear, just so he won’t get upset. But this time I really do believe I’m going to change. And I called my mother,” she added almost as an afterthought.

“How did that go?”

“She wants me to come home. She’s getting a divorce from her fourth husband and she needs someone to be there to tell her how young and beautiful she looks.”

“Are you going to go?”

Eden nodded. “I really should. Now that I’ve settled things with my father, I should try to make things better with her. After seeing you with your mother, I realized that my relationships with my parents are really messed up. And part of that is my fault.”

Marcus nodded, knowing that it would be foolish to disagree. He couldn’t keep her here forever, like some pretty bird in a cage. They both had to face reality. “When are you leaving?”

She shrugged. “Friday afternoon.” Eden wrapped her arms around his neck. “Are you going to be sad to see me go?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not at all. I’ve got six or seven women who’ve been dying to crawl into my bed. I’ll just ring one of them up and they’ll be over in a flash.”

She opened her mouth in mock surprise, then slapped his chest. “And not one of them could make you feel the way I make you feel.”

“I’m not sure of that,” Marcus said, spanning her waist with his hands. Before she could protest, he captured her mouth, kissing her deeply. She sank into him, her hips pressed against his. His passion surged and suddenly he needed to have her, right then and there.

The clock was ticking, and every minute that passed was one less that they’d spend together. He didn’t want to bother with seduction or foreplay. His brain screamed with the need to bury himself deep inside of her and forget all the confusion she’d caused him.

Reaching down, Marcus grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and yanked it over her head, breaking the kiss for just a heartbeat before resuming his assault on her mouth. His hand smoothed over her body as he tried to memorize every detail, the sweet hollow at the base of her spine, the gentle curve of her neck and the soft swell of her breasts.

Frantic to possess her, Marcus ripped off his own shirt and tossed it aside, then unbuttoned his jeans. With a wicked laugh, Eden reached down to touch him, but he grabbed her hand and pulled it away.

“Don’t,” he warned.

She seemed stunned by the ferocity in his voice but then nodded her assent. He skimmed the skirt over her hips, and a moment later she was completely naked. No matter how much he touched her, he couldn’t seem to get close enough. There was only one way.

Grabbing her waist, he wrapped her legs around his hips and carried her over to the old oak table. Marcus set her down on the edge, then gently pushed her back. His hands slid beneath her thighs, drawing them up, and he stood between her legs and stared down at her body.

There would be a last time for this, for them. The thought banged inside his brain like an alarm bell. How was he supposed to live without this? He unzipped his jeans and tugged his boxers down. His erection brushed against her belly.

He didn’t want to bother with a condom and he didn’t care about the consequences. Every other barrier had fallen between them and he wanted to rid himself of this one, as well. Marcus needed to feel every inch of her surrounding him, but he knew it wasn’t his choice. With a soft groan, he bent over to kiss her. “I have to go get-”

“No,” she murmured. Eden reached down and guided him to her damp entrance. “It’s all right. I want it this way.”

He held his breath, then pressed against her. She was hot and tight, and the sensation of entering her was nearly enough to push him over the edge. Eden arched back on the table, moaning softly as he began to move. Marcus let his gaze drop and he watched himself disappear inside her again and again. The sight added to the pleasure, like an erotic movie winding out before him. He rubbed his thumb against her clitoris, and Eden cried out, her hands gripping the edge of the oak table, her eyes closed.

He knew he wouldn’t last long, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to be buried inside her and let his orgasm consume him. The tension began to build, a wonderful discomfort that promised an explosive release. He gave himself over to the feelings, and when Eden tightened around him, Marcus knew it was time.

Her spasms closed in on him and he drove into her once more, burying himself to the hilt. And then it was there, washing over him like a warm rain, soothing nerves that were on fire. It seemed to last forever, surge after surge of pleasure.

His knees went weak and he braced his hands on the table, leaning against it as he caught his breath. It had happened so quickly, yet the satisfaction was just as intense.

Eden stretched her arms above her head and groaned lazily, a contented smile on her face. When she opened her eyes, they were still glazed, as if she hadn’t quite returned to reality. Marcus didn’t move, anxious to stay connected as long as he could.

She smiled at him and pushed up on her elbows. “What was that about?” she murmured.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” In truth, he wasn’t sure how to explain himself-he had merely followed his instincts. “You’re so beautiful. Sometimes I just have to have you.”

Eden reached out, and he wove his fingers through hers, drawing her up into his embrace. “How am I ever going to do without this?” she asked, her lips pressed against his chest.

“Don’t leave.” The instant he said the words Marcus wanted to take them back. But they were easier to say than the other words rattling around in his head. I love you. That’s what he’d wanted to say because that’s what he felt. For the first time in his life he was sure, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell her.

“I thought you wanted me to go. You kept-”

“I know what I said, Eden.”

“And now you don’t want me to-”

“No,” he said. “You’re right. You need to go. This is starting to get a little too comfortable for me.”

“And that’s not a good thing?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s definitely not a good thing.”

She nuzzled his chest, her breath warm against his skin. “This was supposed to be fun. If we get all serious, it will just be ruined.”

Marcus ran his fingers through her hair, brushing it back from her face. Though he’d like to believe in love at first sight, he knew that the chances of making that kind of relationship last-hell, any kind of relationship-were fifty-fifty at best. And though it would be difficult to say goodbye to Eden, it would be far more difficult to let himself love her only to lose her later.

This was for the best, her leaving. He’d just have to keep telling himself that until he believed it.

EDEN DIPPED THE BRUSH into the bottle of pink nail polish and carefully painted her big toe. She glanced up at Marcus, who was comfortably stretched out on the other end of the sofa, a sketch pad resting in his lap.

He had one more design to complete for her father’s commission and had been worrying over it all day long. But she sensed his preoccupation was more about her leaving tomorrow than about his work.

They’d made an agreement when they’d first met that they would enjoy each other and then move on-and they certainly had enjoyed each other. Eden had never been one to stay too long at the party. Things were always so ugly when they turned the lights on.

She sighed softly and went back to her pedicure. Over the past few days, they’d settled into an odd type of domestic bliss. Eden imagined that newly married couples spent their evenings in much the same sort of mundane pursuits-watching a game show on television, cooking spaghetti, making love on the kitchen floor.

But the more she’d come to enjoy playing house with Marcus, the more restless she’d become. It was simple to ignore what was going on in the outside world when she was wrapped up in his life. Though they spent fabulous nights, and sometimes entire afternoons, in bed, outside of their sexual attraction, she felt…confused.

Marcus had a life-he did his work, he ran errands, he talked to his family. But Eden was trapped in a strange limbo between two worlds-a past that she was determined to leave behind and a future she couldn’t quite see.

She dipped the brush into the nail polish and started on her other foot. There were things to do, places to go to find work, but she’d hesitated to make a decision. Was Marcus the cause of her procrastination? Was she hoping that he’d suddenly profess his love for her and all her problems would be magically solved?

Life with Marcus was exciting and interesting. They talked about important matters and joked about silly things. He respected her opinion and listened to her advice when it came to his work. And Eden admired everything that he’d made of his life so far.

But Eden had no illusions that it would be that way in the real world. If they stayed together, then he’d take on her past, as well-the celebrity, the press, the constant speculation and innuendo that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Even if she moved to a mountaintop tomorrow, they’d chase after her for at least another year or two, trying to eke out one more salacious story.

She couldn’t ask him to be a part of all that. Even the most devoted lover would tire of the constant intrusions, as her past lovers had. Eden didn’t want to see what they’d shared turn nasty and awful. For the first time in her life she’d walk away while the memories were still worth remembering.

She studied Marcus as she fanned her toes to dry the first coat. Emotion surged up inside of her and she fought it back, gathering her resolve. Her thoughts wandered back to the encounter that they’d had earlier that week.

He’d been almost frantic to possess her, and she’d felt the same. They’d dropped the pretense that they were casual lovers and now made love without protection. Eden had always covered her own birth control, yet still insisted that her lovers use condoms. But it was different with Marcus. Deep down she knew she could trust Marcus. And he obviously knew that he could trust her. She’d wanted to share that one last thing before she left.

They could do this and they could do it right. Leaving didn’t have to be full of anger and recriminations. Goodbyes could be bittersweet. Maybe once life became simple for her again she could come back. And maybe if Marcus hadn’t found someone else, he might fall in love with her.

Marcus tossed the sketchbook aside and crawled across the sofa to sit next to her. Gently he took the bottle of polish from her fingers and started on her second coat.

“First you color my hair and now you do my toes,” Eden said. “You’re a handy guy to have around.”

He looked up and smiled. “I studied art in college. This can’t be any harder than Oil Painting 101.”

“Beauty college for you, clown college for me. I think we have a very promising future ahead of us, don’t you?” Her breath caught the moment she said the words, and Eden sent him a teasing smile, hoping that he’d take her comment as a joke.

“I think we’ll be very happy together,” he murmured. “I could dye your purple wigs and you could entertain my customers at the beauty shop.” Marcus twisted the cap back onto the bottle and handed it to her.

“I could do your toes,” she offered.

“No, thanks. Pink really isn’t my color.” He leaned back into the sofa and stretched his arm out, casually toying with her hair. “What time is your plane tomorrow?”

Eden closed her eyes. “Two,” she said. “I have a stop in Washington, D.C., but I’ll land in L.A. at about eight-thirty. My mother is sending a car to pick me up at the airport.”

“Did you get a reply from your father?”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t really expecting one.” Eden drew a deep breath. “Once I get back, I’m going to have to deal with the video, and it’s probably not going to be pleasant. My mother’s already called her lawyer, and I have just enough left in my trust fund to pay for him. If he can’t get the tape back, then I’m going to have to suffer the consequences.” She reached out and grabbed his hand, then squeezed it tight. “There’s going to be a lot written about me, but I want you to know that what’s on that tape was nothing close to what we had.”

“I know,” Marcus murmured.

Eden groaned. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not now.” She got up from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen, then walked back to Marcus. “Let’s go out. There must be a club around here somewhere. We’ll get dressed up and drink champagne and go dancing. It’ll be fun. A celebration of our last night together.”

Marcus shook his head. “You know what will happen, don’t you?”

“So what? Let’s risk it. I need some excitement. Don’t you ever get bored sitting around here?”

“Not with you around,” Marcus said.

Eden smiled. “Is that a yes?”

He sighed. “All right. But if things get crazy, we’re going to leave.”

“You do dance, don’t you?”

“Badly,” he said. “Although I can do the chicken dance. My niece taught me. And the Hokey Pokey. Does that count as a dance or is that technically a game?”

Giggling, Eden grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. “I’ll give you a quick lesson. We need music.” She ran over to the cabinet that held his stereo equipment and flipped on the radio, scanning through the stations until she found suitable music. Then, with a sexy smile, she wiggled her way back to him, swaying her hips provocatively and turning in circles to the music.

Marcus watched her, desire flickering in his eyes. She held up her arms as she approached, then pressed her hips against his and moved with the music. He tried to mimic her movements but he was off beat.

Eden grabbed his hips. “Just listen to the music. It’s like sex.”

“I can see that,” Marcus murmured, staring down at his groin. “And what if I have the same reaction on the dance floor as I’m having now?”

“Oh, that happens all the time,” Eden said.

He stopped. “Really?”

She nodded and pulled him back into the dance. “That’s why you’re only allowed to dance with me.” She turned around and moved her backside against his crotch, knowing full well the effect it was having on him. She placed his hands on her hips and bent over, rocking back against him with the beat of the music. Slowly he began to get the hang of it and Eden smiled. “You’re doing well,” she said. “See, it’s not so hard. I mean, the dancing. The other is impressively hard.”

“I’ve always been good at sex. And you can’t convince me that this is anything more than foreplay to music.” He grabbed her waist and spun her around, then pulled her into his arms and began to slow dance with her.

But Eden wasn’t about to be deterred. She hitched her right leg up along his hip and tucked his hand beneath her thigh, then began to move against him again.

“If you don’t stop that, we’re never going to get out of here.” Marcus bent her back at the waist and pressed his mouth to her neck.

Eden turned around and rubbed her backside against his crotch again. “I knew you’d like it,” she said.

But Marcus liked it a bit too much. With a playful growl, he grabbed her around the waist, picked her up off her feet and carried her toward the bed. They both tumbled onto the mattress, and he stretched out on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. His mouth came down on hers, and Eden lost herself in his kiss, the familiar taste of him like an addictive drug.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” he murmured, nipping at her lower lip.

“What?”

“I teach you how to do your laundry and you teach me how to dance and each time we manage to make it about sex.” He nuzzled her neck. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Eden swallowed hard. This would have to be enough. She was leaving tomorrow. They had one night left together. If they stayed in this apartment, she knew she’d begin to question her decision. “Good. I want to leave you wanting more. I’m going to haunt your dreams at night and inhabit your fantasies during the day. I plan to make your life miserable once I’m gone.”

Marcus stared down at her, the smile fading from his face. “You will. I know you will.”

Eden wriggled out from beneath him, uneasy with his shift in mood. “Good. Now get dressed. We’re going out and we are going to dance.”

Marcus rolled over on the bed and covered his face with his hands. “All right,” he said. “But I’m going to have to take a cold shower before we go. And if you do that to me again at the club, I’m going to be forced to drag you into a dark corner and deal with the situation in the proper way.”

“I’m counting on that,” Eden teased.