"Maybe I do need a drink," I murmured and stood. I went to the whiskey and poured a shot, gazing absently at my reflection in the mirror of the dresser behind the table on which the tray sat.
How did I tell him not to get attached? He was somehow part of all this yet oblivious at the same time. Unable to make heads or tails of him, I likewise didn't know why I was drawn to trust him.
Taylor rose. "If you're not ready, I understand," he said and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure I am."
And then he said something completely endearing, and I wasn't able to see the danger Carter swore was there. I met his gaze in the mirror and replaced the tumbler. Despite what little I knew about Taylor, no part of me felt like walking away from him tonight.
"We could talk," he offered.
"Oh, hell no. I'm ready, and I'm going to make you blush," I replied with forced cheerfulness. I fumbled with the ties on my housecoat and pulled them free. I let the garb drop to my feet to reveal the near-sheer, sleeveless nightgown I took for being risqué in this era.
His cheeks were pink. Taylor's eyes went down my yoga-toned form. He hesitated and then stepped forward, his heat warming my back. As if afraid to hurt me, he rested his hands lightly enough on my arms to make me shiver.
"It's okay, Taylor. I won't break," I said with a small laugh.
"I know. I want to remember this forever. You only get married once." By the earnestness in his words and face, he was serious.
I'm a piece of shit. Pretending to be one man's daughter and another's wife … I wanted to scream. Instead I drew a breath and closed my eyes, focused on Taylor's caress. I could wear out my attraction to him or better yet, see if sex would motivate him to help me. I hated using people as much as I did lying to them, but if I wanted to succeed and go home, I needed his help.
He ran his palms down my arms and back up to my shoulders. Fingers tickled the sensitive skin of my neck, and I shivered. Fire bloomed in my lower belly. I relaxed and leaned against him.
He traced the tattoo at the base of my neck. "What is it?"
"Pink lotus," I murmured. "I thought it was pretty."
"It's beautiful," he agreed. "You have more?"
"Nope. Just that one."
Taylor's fingers moved to my hair, and I bowed my head so he could undo the simple bun Nell had made. Long, blonde curls toppled down my shoulders. He pushed them over one shoulder and I bared my neck to him, my head resting on his chest. His hand went across my collarbone and around my neck loosely before it strayed to my left shoulder.