Protege(23)

“I . . . need a minute.”

“All right. Tell me what’s going through your mind.”

Her breathing went from natural to labored in a split second. “I just can’t believe I’m doing this.” Her head shook and she exhaled harshly. “I don’t even know you.”

Keeping his expression as nonthreatening as possible, he softly said, “You’ll get to know me.”

Her hand pressed to her chest. “Sweet baby Jesus, my heart’s racing so fast it feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest.”

He frowned and squatted low in front of her. When he took her other hand, he found it clammy and ice cold. “Do you have anxiety attacks?”

“No, just anxiety.” She laughed, but he wasn’t amused.

Unfolding her fist, he flattened her palm to his chest. “Breathe with me, Collette. In. Out. In. Good.”

As her fretfulness seemed to settle, he sat beside her and explained, “I want to make something perfectly clear here, Collette. I’m not, nor have I ever been, the type of man to take something not offered. I don’t want you to be afraid to use your safe word. You use that word whenever you need a moment; it doesn’t automatically end things. It’s like pulling the brake. We stop, assess, regroup, and decide what, if anything, needs to change. Sometimes we just need a moment to catch our breath.”

“I know that. This didn’t really feel like a penguin moment, though.”

He tried not to laugh at her adorable choice of safe word. “Then explain to me why you hesitated.”

“We’re going to have sex. We are, right?”

He nodded.

“That’s a really big deal to me usually. I mean, I’ve only been with a handful of men and each one put his time in.”

He grinned. “I bet they did.” Tucking her hair behind her shoulders, he lifted her chin. “Tell me something, Collette, when this is all over and we’ve sized you up with a match, what would you do if he’s one of the men that want an arranged marriage?”

Her brow pinched. “How frequently does that happen?”

“More often than you’d imagine. It’s the primary reason our clientele initiates contact.”

“They don’t meet at all?”

“Some do. Some communicate in other ways before meeting face to face, but only see each other the day of the wedding. It depends on the couple.”

“And you’ve only had two divorces?”

He chuckled. “That’s right.” He took her hands, making a point to acclimate her to his touch. “I intend for us to know each other intimately over the next few weeks. We have a lot of ground to cover. My point is, sometimes it’s better to jump in rather than tiptoe.”

She sighed. “I suppose getting it over with is one way to go about it. It just seems so clinical.”

That word caught his attention. “You have no idea how clinical it can get. Sometimes making intimacy as cut-and-dried as possible can be quite erotic. I could spend hours watching you fill a set of stirrups, memorizing your body before ever laying a hand on it.”

“What?”

He tsked. “Don’t judge something you’ve never tried, peach.”

She frowned. “The lawyer called me that yesterday.”

“Did he?” Ezra had said he wasn’t ruling out the chance that Collette might like women, but Jude sensed she wasn’t a fit for his friends. Different strokes for different folks.

“Yes.”

“Well, he did mention finding you very sweet.” His territorial instincts quelled as he reminded himself this was temporary and Collette was nothing more than a protégé. Knowing their association had a shelf life suited him well. There was no expectation. One couldn’t lose something if they never truly had it to begin with.

His hands slowly traveled over her thighs and arms, and soon she didn’t seem to flinch at his touch. The more familiar he became to her, the more she seemed to tolerate. Good.

“I’m going to show you to your room. I’ll give you some time to shower and make yourself at home. Everything you need will be in the drawers and you can help yourself. When you’re finished, I want you to wait there for me. Do you understand?”

She frowned. “Yeah.”

He arched a brow.

“Yes,” she corrected, and he waited. “I mean, yes, Jude.” Good enough for a start.

He walked her up the steps to the mistress’s bedroom. Bracing himself for the deluge of memories, he shut his eyes as he turned the knob.

Pleased with the changes Lea had made, he let out a breath of relief. Not only were the linens changed, the furniture was switched out with that of another room. It looked nothing like it had when his wife slept there.

He showed her the bathroom and waited to see if she had any other questions. Sensing she was anxious to be alone, he left her to her own devices. He’d give her at least an hour to collect herself.

When he returned to the first floor he called Ezra. “We’re here.”

“Yes, I’ve been informed by several of your nosy neighbors who saw the Benz go by. Lea’s dying to meet her.”

“Is that Jude?” His friend’s wife interrupted in the background.

Ezra laughed. “She’s out of hand. I swear she can smell fresh * from a mile away.”