Page 25 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to his. She knew she must look ridiculous with the paint running down her face and the ugly tears welling out of her eyes, but she saw only tenderness reflected in his. When he joined his lips to hers, it was with a sweetness that made her heart ache inside her chest.

To JoBeth’s way of thinking, you signed the piece of paper and spoke the words because the other person brought out the best in you; because you were more with them than you could ever be on your own. It proved you meant to stick when it would be easier to give up.

But she didn’t know how to explain that to Dawg, any more than she could explain how important it was to make the commitment out of love and not the stifling sense of duty that had held her parents’ marriage together.

She wanted to lift her arms up around Dawg’s neck and whisper her love for him, but she couldn’t give in now. Nor could she follow him back home with her tail between her legs, grateful for whatever scraps of commitment he was willing to toss her way.

He released her lips but held her gaze with his. “You know where to find me when you come to your senses, JoBeth.”

“And you know where to find me,” she countered. “But I really can’t say for how long.”

???

Olivia prowled the apartment like a caged animal. From his seat at the kitchen table, Matt watched her pace off the confines of their prison, past the couch to peer out the French doors of the balcony, back to the tiny kitchen to stare out the postage-stamp window at the brick wall beyond.

For a while he just enjoyed the long-legged grace of her, the swirl of blonde hair teasing against slim shoulders, and the way the occasional ray of sunlight caught her hair and separated it into a hundred different shades of gold.

She ignored him as she paced, her gaze skimming over him, then moving away.

“It is a bit tight in here, isn’t it?”

She continued to pace. "A bit tight? I have clothes bigger than this apartment.”

She turned her back on him and strode over to the TV wall, not even sparing a glance for the cameras pointing at her from every angle. “I’d give anything to head out for a run right now. Just a little one. I’d come back.”

“Yeah, I’ll mention your idea to T.J. and Charles. Maybe they’ll let me out after my show for a couple of drinks. I’d come back, too.”

Her snort of laughter was not at all flattering, but she did stop pacing. “Do you think it’s possible to accrue time out for good behavior?”

Her desperation added a sparkle to her green eyes that Matt found oddly endearing.

“Or maybe we’re just going to be stuck in here until we’re so old it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” He wagged his finger at her. “I believe you’re allowing your glass to become half empty rather than half full. It’s just a week out of your life, Olivia.”

“At the end of which, one of us, preferably you, will be out of a show.”

Matt shrugged and stood. “You have to admit it does add a certain... piquancy to the whole situation.”

He walked around the table to stand beside her. He moved a little closer, intentionally invading her space, and watched her eyes glaze over. It was obvious Olivia wanted to step back and put more space between them, but she held her ground. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, but you seem a little tense.”

She averted her gaze. “Tense? Me?” She shook her head and offered what he supposed was meant to be a smile.

“Turn around.” He took hold of her shoulders and spun her around. Without asking permission, he began to massage her neck. When she started to shrug out of his grip, he pulled out his trump card. “You don’t want our viewers to think you’re uptight, do you, Liv?”

Olivia stopped struggling, but she didn’t relax.

He worked his way down the graceful column of her neck. “Jesus, Olivia, you feel stiff enough to break in half.”Who said they had nothing in common?“This much physical tension is not good for a person.”

A quick glance up at the live stream told him that, once again, he and Olivia looked decidedly cozy. But then the viewing audience couldn’t feel what he felt beneath his constantly moving hands. Olivia was as tightly strung as a bow, and he knew it was only pride that kept her from jerking away. Working his way down her throat one last time, Matt brought his hands to rest on the nape of her neck and thought about making her quiver.

With strong fingers, he kneaded her warm, taut flesh. And suddenly he was remembering details he’d put out of his mind long ago: the feel of her supple body shifting under his, the delicious length of her thighs wrapping around him, her hands on his buttocks urging him inside.

Olivia didn’t relax under his ministrations, but shedidrespond.

And, damn it, so did he. He willed himself into submission, offered himself some very direct words of discouragement, but crucial body parts didn’t seem to be listening. In fact, he seemed to have gone completely deaf below the waist.

If there was one thing he’d always been able to count on, it was his self-control. Not that he’d needed to call on it all that often, of course, but it had always been there at the ready. He was fairly certain of this.

---