Silver Falls - Anne Stuart [38]
She’d go for a quiche or pasta but now he was toying with the idea of cutting out eggs and cheese. She’d have to make do with some kind of twigs and berries. He refused to eat anything with a face on it, and while she admired his ethics, there were times when her own cravings just got too strong. He was a far better person than she was.
There were Mint Milanos hidden behind the crock of whole-wheat flour, ostensibly bought for Sophie. Considering that she kept going through the packages and replacing them before she got to pass them along, she should have known better, but the latest package hadn’t been opened. She ripped it apart, shoved one in her mouth, letting the richness of the chocolate slide across her tongue, and she took the first deep breath she’d taken in hours. In a world with chocolate, nothing could ever be that bad.
So, nuts and fruits and berries and twiggy grains for dinner, washed down with a nice cabernet. Or should she go white for twigs? The one thing she could do was make herself as irresistible as possible, and then maybe David wouldn’t care so much about food.
She double locked the front door, then headed into her private bathroom, stripping off her clothes and climbing into the shower. Soap was a turn-on for David—in fact, he usually liked her to shower just before they had sex, and then immediately after. Which always managed to ruin the mood for her, just a bit, but he had a few hang-ups he still had to work out. She could be patient. After all, it wasn’t as if she was the epitome of sexuality herself. Pleasant was good enough.
Hot sex usually led to disaster, and she hadn’t had an orgasm since Jared had taken off so long ago. Then again, how could anything that brought her Sophie ever be considered a disaster?
She took a long, leisurely shower. This would be a perfect time to get past the unpleasantness of the night before. Maybe they could bring their relationship to a new level—he was oddly shy, never letting her see him without clothes. Maybe, without Sophie around, he could relax, maybe consider something new.
Tonight would improve things. Whether she was in the mood or not. She washed her hair and let it hang down her back—when it dried it would be a riot of curls but right then the weight of the dampness kept it relatively straight, another thing David liked.
Unbidden, the memory of Caleb Middleton’s outrageous question came back to her. “Does he go down on you?”
He probably already knew the answer. David was sedate and pleasant. They made love in the darkness, politely, infrequently, and his performance issues were recurrent. Which was fine with Rachel. David was gentle, loving, always thoughtful. It would be ridiculous to expect more—she doubted more even existed.
She pulled on a long, flowing skirt from Thailand and the sexiest top she still had—a clinging silk knit over the last Victoria’s Secret bra she owned. She looked damned good in that underwear, and to top it off she put on her favorite pair of silver earrings, the ones that brushed her shoulders.
She was just finishing up her makeup when she saw the headlights in the driveway, and she rushed out of her room, a little nervous, a little edgy. She’d already opened the wine. The fruit was washed and set out, along with the grain mixture that David swore by. The message light was flashing—someone must have called while she was in the shower—but she could hear David at the door. The message could wait.
She tugged her shirt lower, so that the swell of her breasts was appetizingly visible, then bit her lips to redden them in lieu of the lipstick David hated.
She didn’t even wait for him to put the key in the door. She flung it open, saying, “Hello, sexy.