Guilty Pleasures by Cathy Yardley Page A

Mari stayed behind, all but collapsing against the desktop as she read through the review again.
    They liked it. They really liked it.
    â€œYou okay?”
    It was Nick. She sensed him even before he spoke. She looked at him. “I owe you an apology.”
    He didn’t disagree with her, just studied her with his dark golden wizard’s eyes.
    â€œI should have given our menu more of a chance,” she said, shrugging. “I guess I just got scared.”
    He quirked one eyebrow at her. “And that’s all you’re apologizing for?”
    She felt a small burst of irritation. “What else should I…” She thought about it, then whispered, “What? I should be sorry I didn’t sleep with you while I was worried?”
    Now he glanced out the door, then walked up to her. “I don’t care about the sex,” he said, surprising her. “What I mean is, you shut me out. You didn’t have to be scared by yourself. I was a little nervous, too.”
    Now she gaped. “Nervous? You?”
    He grinned. “I’ve got a good game face. But yeah, Mari, I get nervous.” He paused. “And the fact that you thought I was just in it for the possible career advancement and the plentiful nooky was a trifle insulting, too, don’t you think?”
    She blushed. “Okay, that was uncalled for. I am really sorry about that.”
    He leaned close to her ear, his breath tickling the delicate skin just behind her right lobe. “Enough to make it up to me?”
    She smiled, her body reacting even before she could mouth the words. “What did you have in mind?”
    â€œI told you I wanted to celebrate, before all this happened,” he murmured. “And work on some specials.”
    She felt heat pulse through her, and an aching between her legs. After a month of sensual exploration with this man, even a week without seemed too long.
    Maybe this isn’t a good idea, her subconscious stated, waving a red flag.
    But in the face of her body’s urging, she ignored the warning. “What time?” she asked instead.
    Â 
    N ICK WAITED UNTIL every last crew member left for the night before accompanying Mari back to her apartment. It had taken some time—they had been jubilant over their first promising review, and they wanted to take Mari out for drinks to their favorite hangout, a bar called Tiger, just blocks away. Mari’s gentle evasion finally worked, and now he was alone with her, headed for her loft.
    It had only been a week since he’d slept with her, but his body craved hers, and the withdrawal had bordered on painful. He’d never really felt this way about sex before—he enjoyed it, naturally, but when women made demands he found it easy enough to forgo the act in order to get rid of the hassle. Besides, sex with one woman versus the other was pretty much the same.
    That wasn’t the case any more. He wasn’t sure what made it different, but he did know that it was.
    He climbed the flights of stairs to her apartment, watching as her long legs shifted and her derrieretaunted him. Tonight wasn’t going to just be about sex, though.
    Tonight, he was going to get her to trust him.
    She let him into the darkened loft, then shut and locked the door behind him. Then she reached for him, kissing him hungrily. At first, his body responded like a man dying of thirst, drinking in her lips as his hands roamed over her body. Her hands moved quickly, reaching for his pants, tugging at his shirt.
    When she got his zipper down, he forced himself to back off, take some calming breaths. “Not like this, Mari.”
    In the dim light, he saw that her eyes were wide with surprise. “Why not?”
    â€œLet’s go to your bed,” he said instead. “I want to try something.”
    She smiled, a small, coy smile. “Okay.”
    He followed her up the ladder to her bedroom. Most of the time they’d slept together