Chapter Three
Lucie curled into the corner of her couch, knees drawn up to her chest. She held a book in her hands, but even as her eyes scanned the lines of black type, her mind didn’t register a single word.
Her stomach was all in knots. She hadn’t eaten dinner she’d been so nervous. Which was flat-out ridiculous because it was only Reid. Her brother’s best friend. A guy who’d practically lived at her house when she was a kid. A guy who she’d mooned after for the better part of her second decade of life…A guy who was quite possibly the sexiest man she’d ever seen and whose half-naked image must have burned itself onto the underside of her eyelids because every time she closed them it was right there waiting for her and now he was staying in her home—
Whoa! Breathe, girl, breathe. She inhaled deeply, held it, then let it out slowly, feeling marginally better.
Earlier she’d insisted that instead of her moving into his hotel suite, Reid move into her apartment. It didn’t make sense for them to both be living out of suitcases, and this way there was less chance of him being bombarded by crazy fans. He’d shown up a half hour ago, she’d shown him to the guest room, and then left him to get settled.
Suddenly a tinny rendition of “The Piña Colada Song” burst through her quiet ruminations. She snatched her cell phone off the coffee table. “Hi, Nessie, what’s up?”
“Did you seriously give Dr. Jerkface my number? Because he claims he got it from you, but I figured that can’t possibly be right. I mean, I’d like to think that if the man my best friend has been crushing on for years asked her for my phone number, she would’ve told him to go fly a kite.”
“Ness—”
“Or at the very least, given him an excuse as to why he couldn’t ask me out.”
Lucie squeezed her eyes shut and placed her head on her knees. With all the craziness of Reid moving in she’d completely forgotten. “What happened?”
“I told him that I was dating someone but you didn’t know about it yet because it’s so new.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I’m sorry, but he caught me off guard and I didn’t know what to say.”
“When are you going to either tell him how you feel or move on?”
“Vanessa…”
“I know you don’t like it when I bring this up, but come on. You can’t wait your whole life for this guy to up and decide one day that he likes you.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s just—” Lucie heard Reid open his bedroom door down the hall. “Hey, I have to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Before her friend could argue, she closed the phone, silenced the ringer, and set it on the table.
“Whatcha reading?”
His deep voice resonating in her usually quiet, usually very male-free home sounded out of place. She watched as he crossed in front of her wearing nothing but athletic shorts hanging low—almost indecently low—on his hips. At some point he must’ve sat in the opposite corner of the couch, but she somehow lost those moments with the distraction of his bare torso.
“You keep your mouth open like that, Lu, and you’re bound to catch flies,” he said with a wry grin.
Snapping her jaw shut in total humiliation she cut her eyes back to the book in front of her that could’ve been written in Hebrew for all she knew. She tucked her shower-damp hair behind an ear and cleared her throat. “You should put a shirt on when we’re not doing therapy.”
“Why? The less I wear the more comfortable I am. I put the shorts on as a courtesy to your virtue.”
She gasped. When he laughed, she realized that’s exactly the reaction he’d been going for. Narrowing her sights, she chucked the book in his direction, which he easily deflected with a flick of his hand. How annoying.
“Relax, Luce. There’s nothing wrong with appreciating someone’s more appealing physical traits. In fact, that’s lesson number one.”
She snorted. “How to properly ogle someone?”
“No. How to properly get someone to ogle you.”
Suddenly Lucie needed a drink and practically bolted to the kitchen. She was almost positive she had a bottle of wine some— Aha! Grabbing the corkscrew out of a drawer, she worked quickly to open and pour a large glass of the Moscato wine, and then drained it almost just as fast. And then repoured.
“Do you have wine often?”
She jumped—again—and whirled to face him, glass in one hand, bottle in the other. “Will you stop sneaking up on me like that? And, no, I don’t usually drink wine. This was a Christmas gift from a patient.”
“I’m not sneaking. You’re jumpy. Maybe the wine isn’t such a bad idea.” He scanned her apartment for a minute, allowing her to down most of her second glass without an audience. “Do you have a full-length mirror around here?”
“In my bedroom, but—”
“Perfect. Let’s go.” He grabbed the bottle away from her and led her to her room.
“What are you doing?”
“I told you, lesson number one: dress to impress.”
Lucie was afraid to ask for clarification, and instead chose to gulp some more wine. After he plopped her down on her bed he strode over to her closet and began rifling through her clothes. She thought to object, to tell him to get away from her things, but the alcohol was already easing the tension in her shoulders and she decided to see what he was up to.
“So tell me, Luey, what’s so special about this guy? Why is he our objective and not anyone else?”
“Why is that important?” she asked, wringing her hands together as she watched his back. “Can’t I just say I like him and leave it at that?”
As he moved hangars from one side to the other, occasionally pulling a garment out, only to put it back with a muttered insult, she studied the play of muscles in his shoulders and back. She’d seen Stephen in tight T-shirts when he sometimes used the PT room for a quick workout, but he didn’t look anything like Reid. Where Stephen had a runner’s body, thin with lean muscle, Reid’s body was the exact opposite. He wasn’t large or bulky like those fake wrestlers on TV, but his medium build didn’t have an ounce of fat on it, and every square inch was home to a beautifully defined muscle. It definitely wasn’t a hardship watching him do anything, no matter how mundane, in his shirtless state.
“Nope. Not good enough. You’re willing to do something incredibly unconventional and drastic to get this guy. So I want to know why him. I need to know what I’m working with here if I’m going to help you.”
She bit her lip and wondered if she dared tell him. Not even Vanessa knew, but she supposed if she could share it with anyone, it would be Reid. After all, he was in her home for the explicit reason to help her in her quest to date, and eventually marry, Stephen. Plus, he’d be gone in a couple of months so it wasn’t like he’d be around to lord her incredibly pathetic secret over her until the end of days.
Opening up her nightstand drawer she pulled out a crinkled magazine page. It was a full-page ad for a real estate company, featuring a picturesque colonial home with an idyllic family standing in front of it. The husband stood proudly by his wife, one arm around her waist, the other hand on his son’s shoulder. Younger sister stood in front of the mom who held an infant in her arms. The quintessential American couple with two-point-five kids and their faithful shih tzu at their feet.
“Here,” she said, holding out the page. “I’ve kept this for three years. This is what I want.”
Reid turned around, took the page, and studied it with a frown in his brow. “I don’t get it. Does he live in this kind of a house or something? If that’s what you’re getting at, I have to tell you, that’s not—”
“No, not the house. The whole thing. The perfect life. Or almost perfect because everyone knows nothing is perfect, but I’d like to get as close to perfect as I can get and that ad screams Almost Perfect.”
Reid rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “Okay, I see what you’re getting at, but how does Mann fit into this?”
“Stephen is
compatible with me in every way. We enjoy the same music, the same taste in movies and food. We’re in the same field, so we understand how it goes when you need to work well into the night sometimes. And that also feeds into our mutual desire to help others recover from physical injuries.”
Reid cut off her diatribe and handed the page back. “All right I got it. So, you’re compatible with each other. But a relationship is more than just liking the same board games. What about chemistry? Passion? Love?”
What about them? They were all inconsequential, that was what. She’d been down that road already and it had led her straight off a cliff.
Her ex had left her a broken woman. She’d believed he loved her and truly wanted to be with her despite all their differences. He’d said their love conquered opposition. That the occasional disagreement would bring spice to their marriage.
Apparently he’d also thought sleeping with another woman a few months after their wedding would do the same thing.
She’d never felt so hurt—so stupid—as when she’d walked in on him having some sort of hippie tantric sex with a woman whose dreadlocks rivaled those of Bob Marley. He hadn’t even had the decency to look guilty. No, he’d actually stretched out a welcoming hand and encouraged her to join them. She’d almost retched on the spot before fleeing the room, and ultimately the marriage.
That had been the moment she decided to never again trust that love was all a relationship needed to work. She stripped the phrase “opposites attract” from her vocabulary and vowed to not get involved with anyone who wasn’t suitably compatible with her. If love eventually entered into the equation, it would simply be a bonus.
But she couldn’t tell him all of that. He’d think she was crazy.
Looking down at the picture Lucie traced a fingertip over the dark-haired man that to her represented Stephen. He even had similar features. “We haven’t had the chance to discover those things yet.” She placed it in her drawer and pushed it closed before pinning Reid with a confident stare. “But I know that if I could just get him to see me…get him to give us a chance…we’ll have more chemistry than we know what to do with.”
He crossed his arms over his broad chest and held her eyes for a minute or two, as if he was waiting for her to break down and admit she didn’t really believe anything she just said. But that would never happen because she did believe it. Totally and utterly. Finally, he broke the awkward silence.
“Luce, no offense,” he said gesturing to her closet, “but your clothes suck.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to defend her wardrobe, but at the last second she just sighed, her shoulders slumping forward slightly. “I know. They do, don’t they?”
He scrutinized her pajamas long enough that she angled her head down, thinking something was out of place. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you always wear flannel pants and baggy tank tops to bed?”
“Not that it’s any of your business…” Ooh, her lips were starting to get numb. Nice. She grinned. “…but yes. I do.” A smile spread over his face, displaying a brilliant set of straight, white teeth. “Such a pretty smile,” she mused aloud.
“Pretty? I think I’ve just been emasculated. Okay, let’s go,” he said as he confiscated her wine glass.
“Hey!”
“Just a minute, I want to show you something. After that you’re welcome to finish off the bottle. If I’m lucky, you’re one of those girls who like to dance on tabletops when under the influence.”
She was too distracted by that image to resist when he took her by the hand and led her across the room. Picturing herself gyrating on top of a table without a care in the world made her bust out laughing. “No,” she said between giggles. “I think I lean more toward sleepy than crazy when I drink wine. Sorry to disappoint you.”
When they reached the antique full-length mirror in the corner, he adjusted the angle slightly so it didn’t cut him off at the neck as he stood behind her. The giddy feeling she’d had a moment ago died in her throat when she met his intense gaze in their reflection. She felt frozen in place, unable to move a single muscle, as she watched his large hands slip into her peripheral vision and make their way to the front of her body.
At first contact Lucie drew in a sharp breath. He pressed the thin cotton of her loose tank top against her stomach, the heat from his palms soaked into her skin to settle deep in her belly. Slowly his hands moved toward her lower back, his thumbs barely missing the under swells of her breasts. When they finally met at the center of her back, the material was pulled taut over her body.
“There,” he said with a slight nod. “What do you see?”
She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head. She’d never been comfortable showing off her body. She didn’t have the curves or the full breasts and hips that men were attracted to. Between that and his touch short-circuiting her brain—or maybe it was the wine—she couldn’t deign to give him an answer more than the exhale of frustration.
“Bathing suit.”
It took her a minute to respond to the randomness of his statement. If that could even be considered a statement. Maybe two words was a phrase. Or a term. Wait, what did he say? “What?”
“Where’s your bathing suit? I want you to put it on so we can see your body and not the clothes you choose to hide it with.”
“I’m not putting on a bathing suit.”
“That’s okay,” he said crossing his arms. “Bra and panties’ll work too.”
Her jaw dropped. Was he serious? She studied the hard glint in his hazel eyes. Shit. “I’ll get my suit,” she mumbled on her way to the large dresser along the wall.
“Excellent idea. I’ll wait out in the hall while you change. But Luce…” She paused midrummage through her top drawer and looked over her shoulder at him. “If you’re longer than three minutes, I’m going to assume you’ve chickened out and I’m coming in.”
She narrowed her eyes behind her glasses. “Do you always threaten people until they bend to your every whim?”
“Of course not. I’ve never had to resort to threats until you,” he said with a cover model smile. “Ticktock.”
She grabbed a handful of rolled-up socks from the drawer and threw them at his head. Unfortunately he did his bob-and-weave thing—holding his injured shoulder and laughing—and managed to avoid all three cotton missiles just before he closed the door behind him.
Chapter Four
Lucie tried to be annoyed with her new roommate but found herself grinning like an idiot instead. “Pompous ass.” Same old Reid. She shook her head and returned to her search for the elusive bathing suit. “Aha! Found you, you little stinker.” Holding up the suit Vanessa had made her buy for their vacation, Lucie winced. Wasn’t there more to it than this?
She did love the blue-gray color with the aqua swirly patterns, but she wished the sides weren’t so high cut. They hitched up past her hip bones. Vanessa claimed it emphasized her waist more, and the plunging neckline supposedly created the illusion of a bigger bust. She’d nodded dutifully to her best friend’s fashion advice, but had seriously doubted something could be made from nothing. Their vacation had been canceled at the last minute when one of Vanessa’s cases went to court suddenly, so thankfully she’d never had to wear the suit.
She sighed and changed. At least it was a one-piece, which is more than she could say for anything Vanessa wore in the vicinity of a pool or beach. A minute later she stood before her tall mirror, closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the blood rushing in her ears as she called out for Reid.
The door opened with a quiet snick, but he didn’t make a sound as he moved across the floor. The utter silence made her mouth dry and her fingers twitch by her side. Where was he? Was he trying not to laugh? Oh God, why on earth did she let him talk her into this?
Suddenly she felt his body heat radiating into her back. He was close. Very close. His breath feathered the drying strands tucked around her ear, and when he spoke, the vibrations
from his voice rippled along her neck. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
With deliberate slowness Lucie fluttered her lids open until she was once again staring at the mirror image of herself with Reid standing behind her. His frame made her look slight in comparison. She knew all of his measurements from watching his fights. Six foot three, two hundred and five pounds, a little more when he didn’t need to cut weight for a fight, with a seventy-six inch reach. The tops of her shoulders barely came up to his armpits, and if she let her head fall back, it would rest comfortably in the crook of his neck.
“Now,” he said, bringing her out of her dreamy observations. “Tell me what you see.”
“Strong shoulders. Solid chest. Forearms roped in muscle with just the right amount of veins to make them supersexy…”
He grinned at her in the mirror and his voice became a low rumble that shot straight to her nipples. “You think my forearms are sexy, Lu?”
“Mmm-hmmm.” Why did it look like she had a dopey grin on her face? Surely that wasn’t what she really looked like.
“Thank you. I can honestly say no one has ever said that to me before.”
Well that was a damn shame. She was about to tell him so when he rudely interrupted her train of thought. “I meant, tell me what you see of yourself.”
“Oh.” Studying her reflection all she saw was a woman in a girl’s body trying like hell to pull off a look far beyond the realm of possibilities. “Um. I see…” What did he expect her to say? “This is stupid, Reid. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
As she turned to walk away he gripped her hips and held her in place. “I’ll tell you what I see. I see a beautiful woman who hides behind insecurities that have no business living in her head.” She lowered her head to gaze at the floor, but strong fingers guided her chin back up. “I see a body with flawless olive skin and subtle curves that tempt a man to close his eyes as he traces each of them like a sculptor traces his subject.”
“You do?” she squeaked.
“Absolutely.” Reid closed his eyes and placed his hands on her outer thighs, then slid them up in a painfully slow motion. The callouses on his palms softly abraded her skin, infusing each tiny nerve with a jolt of energy she’d never known the likes of before. “Before a sculptor can duplicate the elegance of his subject, he has to memorize her with the power of touch, instead of depending on the laziness of sight.”
Seducing Cinderella Page 3