The Bachelor's Bed by Jill Shalvis Page A

with Mr. Rogers and his friendly neighborhood.”
    Anger shot off her in waves as she lost the temper he didn’t even know she had. Hair wild, eyes sparking, she came close enough to stab him in the chest with her finger. “Just because you’re a private man doesn’t mean you’re a selfish, cold, hardhead.”
    â€œI don’t remember Claudia calling me a selfish, cold, hardhead.”
    Some of her temper faded. “Maybe I added that.”
    He had to laugh.
    She sighed. Shoved at her hair. Stared at him. “Tell me about you, Colin. I feel so in the dark.”
    â€œThere’s nothing to tell.”
    â€œWhy are you such a private man? Who hurt you?”
    â€œNo one.”
    â€œI know someone did,” she said softly. “I can see flashes of anguish behind that aloofness you show to everyone else. Won’t you tell me about it?”
    This was why he wanted everyone to think he was engaged, so he wouldn’t have to ever talk about, or even think about, what had happened to him.
    â€œI understand pain,” she whispered, stepping close again, but instead of stabbing him with her finger, she slid a hand over his chest, down his arm to his hand, which she held in hers. “You could tell me anything.”
    â€œNo. I can’t.” Not only was it stupid, it would be as embarrassing as hell to admit the mistakes he’d made. He’d like to think he would never do it again. And though that meant not ever trusting another woman in his life, when this woman had such pretty, trusting eyes, it was a decision he’d made out of self-preservation. He wouldn’t change. “Your knowing isn’t necessary for this charade of ours.”
    â€œSharing parts of each other has nothing to do with the charade. It’s part of being friends.”
    God, no. Being friends meant caring, genuine affection. A closeness he couldn’t handle. “I’m not sure being friends is a good idea.”
    She stared at him for a moment, then with all traces of warmth gone from her eyes, she nodded. “I see.”
    It was over. He’d gone too far. But she didn’t say anything. “Still want to go through with this?” he forced himself to ask.
    â€œYes, I do.” She managed a smile at his start of surprise, though it held little mirth. “I told you, Colin, I won’t go back on my word. Maybe one of these days you’ll believe me. Can we go home now? It’s late and I have a long day tomorrow.”
    Home. Their pretend home. Suddenly Colin wished, just for a second, that she was coming home with him for real. Coming to his bed. To his open arms.
    â€œColin?” She was waiting. “Okay?”
    â€œYeah.” He sighed and shook off the strange yearnings. They had no place in his life. “Let’s go.”
    Â 
    T HE NEXT DAY , Lani’s mind wasn’t much on work. Because of that, she was thankful to have a complete staff. She never left her office.
    Things were good, or they would have been, if her mind hadn’t kept wandering, gravitating, toward the tall, dark, enigmatic man she had agreed to help.
    It wasn’t Colin’s fault that she wanted more. She had no one to blame for that but herself.
    To combat her restlessness, she worked like a fiend, catching up on bookkeeping, phone calls and scheduling.
    But she never stopped thinking about what had happened the night before.
    Or rather, what hadn’t happened.
    Colin had slept in his room and she in hers. She had lain there in her big, empty chilly bed, staring at the ceiling all night, hoping the stubborn man down the hall was getting no more rest than she was.
    She wondered what made him so damn unyielding. So incapable of giving in to the yearning in his heated eyes? He could deny it all he wanted, but she’d seen it for herself when she’d come out of the bathroom dressed for bed in nothing more than a plain T-shirt that hung to her