Kate Hoffmann - Marcus

They’d made an agreement when they’d first met that they would enjoy each other and then move on-and they certainly had enjoyed each other. Eden had never been one to stay too long at the party. Things were always so ugly when they turned the lights on.

She sighed softly and went back to her pedicure. Over the past few days, they’d settled into an odd type of domestic bliss. Eden imagined that newly married couples spent their evenings in much the same sort of mundane pursuits-watching a game show on television, cooking spaghetti, making love on the kitchen floor.

But the more she’d come to enjoy playing house with Marcus, the more restless she’d become. It was simple to ignore what was going on in the outside world when she was wrapped up in his life. Though they spent fabulous nights, and sometimes entire afternoons, in bed, outside of their sexual attraction, she felt…confused.

Marcus had a life-he did his work, he ran errands, he talked to his family. But Eden was trapped in a strange limbo between two worlds-a past that she was determined to leave behind and a future she couldn’t quite see.

She dipped the brush into the nail polish and started on her other foot. There were things to do, places to go to find work, but she’d hesitated to make a decision. Was Marcus the cause of her procrastination? Was she hoping that he’d suddenly profess his love for her and all her problems would be magically solved?

Life with Marcus was exciting and interesting. They talked about important matters and joked about silly things. He respected her opinion and listened to her advice when it came to his work. And Eden admired everything that he’d made of his life so far.

But Eden had no illusions that it would be that way in the real world. If they stayed together, then he’d take on her past, as well-the celebrity, the press, the constant speculation and innuendo that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Even if she moved to a mountaintop tomorrow, they’d chase after her for at least another year or two, trying to eke out one more salacious story.

She couldn’t ask him to be a part of all that. Even the most devoted lover would tire of the constant intrusions, as her past lovers had. Eden didn’t want to see what they’d shared turn nasty and awful. For the first time in her life she’d walk away while the memories were still worth remembering.

She studied Marcus as she fanned her toes to dry the first coat. Emotion surged up inside of her and she fought it back, gathering her resolve. Her thoughts wandered back to the encounter that they’d had earlier that week.

He’d been almost frantic to possess her, and she’d felt the same. They’d dropped the pretense that they were casual lovers and now made love without protection. Eden had always covered her own birth control, yet still insisted that her lovers use condoms. But it was different with Marcus. Deep down she knew she could trust Marcus. And he obviously knew that he could trust her. She’d wanted to share that one last thing before she left.

They could do this and they could do it right. Leaving didn’t have to be full of anger and recriminations. Goodbyes could be bittersweet. Maybe once life became simple for her again she could come back. And maybe if Marcus hadn’t found someone else, he might fall in love with her.

Marcus tossed the sketchbook aside and crawled across the sofa to sit next to her. Gently he took the bottle of polish from her fingers and started on her second coat.

“First you color my hair and now you do my toes,” Eden said. “You’re a handy guy to have around.”

He looked up and smiled. “I studied art in college. This can’t be any harder than Oil Painting 101.”

“Beauty college for you, clown college for me. I think we have a very promising future ahead of us, don’t you?” Her breath caught the moment she said the words, and Eden sent him a teasing smile, hoping that he’d take her comment as a joke.

“I think we’ll be very happy together,” he murmured. “I could dye your purple wigs and you could entertain my customers at the beauty shop.” Marcus twisted the cap back onto the bottle and handed it to her.

“I could do your toes,” she offered.

“No, thanks. Pink really isn’t my color.” He leaned back into the sofa and stretched his arm out, casually toying with her hair. “What time is your plane tomorrow?”

Eden closed her eyes. “Two,” she said. “I have a stop in Washington, D.C., but I’ll land in L.A. at about eight-thirty. My mother is sending a car to pick me up at the airport.”

“Did you get a reply from your father?”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t really expecting one.” Eden drew a deep breath. “Once I get back, I’m going to have to deal with the video, and it’s probably not going to be pleasant. My mother’s already called her lawyer, and I have just enough left in my trust fund to pay for him. If he can’t get the tape back, then I’m going to have to suffer the consequences.” She reached out and grabbed his hand, then squeezed it tight. “There’s going to be a lot written about me, but I want you to know that what’s on that tape was nothing close to what we had.”

“I know,” Marcus murmured.

Eden groaned. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not now.” She got up from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen, then walked back to Marcus. “Let’s go out. There must be a club around here somewhere. We’ll get dressed up and drink champagne and go dancing. It’ll be fun. A celebration of our last night together.”

Marcus shook his head. “You know what will happen, don’t you?”

“So what? Let’s risk it. I need some excitement. Don’t you ever get bored sitting around here?”

“Not with you around,” Marcus said.

Eden smiled. “Is that a yes?”

He sighed. “All right. But if things get crazy, we’re going to leave.”

“You do dance, don’t you?”

“Badly,” he said. “Although I can do the chicken dance. My niece taught me. And the Hokey Pokey. Does that count as a dance or is that technically a game?”

Giggling, Eden grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. “I’ll give you a quick lesson. We need music.” She ran over to the cabinet that held his stereo equipment and flipped on the radio, scanning through the stations until she found suitable music. Then, with a sexy smile, she wiggled her way back to him, swaying her hips provocatively and turning in circles to the music.

Marcus watched her, desire flickering in his eyes. She held up her arms as she approached, then pressed her hips against his and moved with the music. He tried to mimic her movements but he was off beat.

Eden grabbed his hips. “Just listen to the music. It’s like sex.”

“I can see that,” Marcus murmured, staring down at his groin. “And what if I have the same reaction on the dance floor as I’m having now?”

“Oh, that happens all the time,” Eden said.

He stopped. “Really?”

She nodded and pulled him back into the dance. “That’s why you’re only allowed to dance with me.” She turned around and moved her backside against his crotch, knowing full well the effect it was having on him. She placed his hands on her hips and bent over, rocking back against him with the beat of the music. Slowly he began to get the hang of it and Eden smiled. “You’re doing well,” she said. “See, it’s not so hard. I mean, the dancing. The other is impressively hard.”

“I’ve always been good at sex. And you can’t convince me that this is anything more than foreplay to music.” He grabbed her waist and spun her around, then pulled her into his arms and began to slow dance with her.

But Eden wasn’t about to be deterred. She hitched her right leg up along his hip and tucked his hand beneath her thigh, then began to move against him again.

“If you don’t stop that, we’re never going to get out of here.” Marcus bent her back at the waist and pressed his mouth to her neck.

Eden turned around and rubbed her backside against his crotch again. “I knew you’d like it,” she said.

But Marcus liked it a bit too much. With a playful growl, he grabbed her around the waist, picked her up off her feet and carried her toward the bed. They both tumbled onto the mattress, and he stretched out on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. His mouth came down on hers, and Eden lost herself in his kiss, the familiar taste of him like an addictive drug.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” he murmured, nipping at her lower lip.

“What?”

“I teach you how to do your laundry and you teach me how to dance and each time we manage to make it about sex.” He nuzzled her neck. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Eden swallowed hard. This would have to be enough. She was leaving tomorrow. They had one night left together. If they stayed in this apartment, she knew she’d begin to question her decision. “Good. I want to leave you wanting more. I’m going to haunt your dreams at night and inhabit your fantasies during the day. I plan to make your life miserable once I’m gone.”

Marcus stared down at her, the smile fading from his face. “You will. I know you will.”

Eden wriggled out from beneath him, uneasy with his shift in mood. “Good. Now get dressed. We’re going out and we are going to dance.”

Marcus rolled over on the bed and covered his face with his hands. “All right,” he said. “But I’m going to have to take a cold shower before we go. And if you do that to me again at the club, I’m going to be forced to drag you into a dark corner and deal with the situation in the proper way.”

“I’m counting on that,” Eden teased.

THE DANCE FLOOR WAS crowded, lights flashing in time with the music and the noise deafening. Marcus held Eden around her waist as they moved. He felt people’s eyes on them, but he took his cue from Eden and pretended he didn’t care.

It was an odd feeling, being the center of attention. Thankfully no one had come up to bother them or ask for Eden’s autograph. The club catered to the wealthy summer crowd in Newport, and the manager had been more than happy to usher Marcus and Eden inside ahead of the rest of the line and provide them with a table in a quiet corner.

A waitress had appeared just moments after they’d sat down with a bottle of Cristal and two champagne flutes. Marcus had reached for his wallet, but the waitress had assured him that the bottle was on the house.

Once he got used to the fact that he was drinking two-hundred-dollar champagne as if it was water, Marcus began to enjoy himself. There was an infectious energy in the club that wasn’t present in the establishments he usually visited. Pool and darts were the main activities at his local pub, and that usually involved drunk men and not scores of beautiful gyrating females.

The music began to wind down, and Marcus bent his head and gave Eden a slow kiss. She smiled up at him, slightly tipsy from the champagne they’d drunk. “Isn’t this fun?”

“It is,” Marcus admitted. “Are you getting tired?”

She nodded. “Take me home. I want to tear off your clothes and make crazy love to you for the rest of the night.”

He glanced around. “Let’s go then.” Marcus laced his fingers through hers and led the way to the door, Eden walking behind him as he pushed through the crowd. When they reached the bar, he flagged down their waitress and gave her a generous tip, then continued toward the exit.

Outside, the air was cool, a breeze coming off the ocean. Marcus wove through the small group still waiting to get inside, and Eden held on to his arm, leaning into him. Everyone stared, but Marcus pasted a smile on his face and nodded at people as he passed.

“Hey, Eden Ross! It’s Eden Ross!”

The guy came out of nowhere, his video camera clutched in his hand. At first, Marcus didn’t understand what he was saying. But then Eden’s fingers tightened on his arm, digging into his biceps. She stepped behind him again, hiding from the curious looks of the crowd.

Marcus held out his hand to warn the guy off, but he continued to approach, staggering as though he’d had too much to drink.

The video camera focused on Marcus now, and Marcus quickly moved his hand in front of the lens. “Hey, buddy, just turn that thing off. We don’t want our picture taken, all right?”

“Jus’ lemme get a picture of her. Who gives a rat’s ass about you?”

Marcus cursed as the man tried to muscle his way past him. He grabbed his arm and gave it a yank, but the guy turned on him, swinging with his free hand. Eden screamed and scampered back, but Marcus had no intention of running from this fight.

“Hey, Eden, is this your new man?” the drunk asked. “Why don’t you both just do it right here on the sidewalk and I’ll tape it? We can all make a million.”