Paws Up for Love

by Stephanie Rowe

  "I wasn't thinking about Buddy. I was thinking about you kissing me," she said.

  "Stop it." God, the idea was far too tempting.

  "Don't worry. I'm not interested in you." She sounded just a little too forceful, and he contemplated proving to her that she actually did want him. Just drop a kiss on her and...

  Think about Buddy. "Those poems about you are in Buddy's handwriting, which means you were involved with him."

  "And...what's your point?"

  "That's it." He closed the distance between them, stopping when he was only six inches away. Interesting, but the air actually felt warmer over here. And caught the faint scent of roses. He leaned forward. "Is that you?"

  "Is what me?" She leaned back.

  "Roses."

  "Um..." She frowned. "Yeah. It's my body lotion."

  "I bet Buddy liked it." Had his brother had the chance to bask in that glorious scent? Damn. How had his brother not done everything possible not to lose Josie? She was entrancing as hell.

  She lifted her chin. "Buddy didn't like it, and it doesn't matter what he thought of it!"

  He grinned at the fire in her eyes. Feisty even after her life had tumbled down around her? She was a fighter, and he liked that. It was a trait he'd like in his own woman...someday. Not now, and not Josie.

  Josie was Buddy's.

  End of story.

  "Well, if it's any consolation, I think Buddy was wrong. That scent is perfect for you. It'd be enough to make any man tremble." Crap. Had he really just said that? He had to pull himself together, and fast.

  Her bluster faded, and she peered up at him as if he were a little strange. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

  Seduce her? Damn. He liked that idea. A lot. Or he would, under other circumstances. "No. Of course not. No chance."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Good."

  Yeah, it was time to change the subject. "So? Shall we pack up your stuff and take it downstairs? I have an SUV that should fit a lot of the boxes," he said.

  She held up a hand. "Wait a sec. You didn't apologize for calling me a liar because I said he stole my money, my car, and my waffle iron."

  Ah, she would have noticed that. "That's because I don't think he did it."

  "So, I'm a liar."

  This was sort of like that age-old question of whether a pair of pants made your woman look fat. No safe answer.

  "Evan?"

  "I think there may be other interpretations of the situation which you haven't fully considered."

  She rolled her eyes and levered herself off the counter, no doubt intending to storm right past him and dismiss his offer.

  He couldn't let that happen.

  He had to keep her around until he located his missing brother. So, he didn't fight the instinct to stop her. His hand shot out, wrapped around her waist, and hauled her up against him.

  Her hips against his hips, her eyes wide, her breath hot on his chin. "You have a thing for trapping beautiful women against your body, don't you?" she asked.

  "You think you're beautiful?"

  A faint pink colored her cheeks. "Self-affirmation."

  "Well, you're right."

  "Shut up. You can't flatter me into forgiving you." She squirmed against him, her body rubbing against his in all sorts of interesting ways.

  "I suggest you remain still if you don't want that seduction talk to become a reality." It was all Evan could do to keep from growling the words, and Josie stilled immediately.

  But her cheeks were still flushed, and her eyes had morphed into a swirling palette of blues and greens. "I have no interest in moving into your house, especially with you there."

  "What other choice do you have?" He bent his head, tempting himself with her nearness. He needed a good knee to the groin right now. Not much else was going to be sufficient to stop his mind from going straight to the gutter, regardless of whether Buddy loved her or not.

  "None." Her voice was almost throaty. "I just dislike you intensely. Sleeping in the same house as you would give me far too many opportunities to try to kill you." She swallowed. "And I have an aversion to prison."

  "Lying awake at night in a warm bed, resisting the urge to murder me, is worse than sleeping on a park bench?" Yeah, he knew that she blamed Buddy for the fact she was about to become homeless, so it probably wasn't the best tactic, but it seemed like the one most likely to get her to agree.

  "It's summer, you know. The nights are warm." She shifted ever so slightly. "I could sleep naked and not get cold if I lived on the street."

  He had no business contemplating the image that popped into his head at her remark. "If you slept naked on the street corner, I think you'd discover a large segment of the male population is even more despicable than I am."

  She blinked, and he knew she was more worried about her living situation than she'd shown. Being evicted sucked. He knew it from his youth, and he honestly didn't want her living in an unsafe situation. So, he kept pressing. "Do you really want to sleep on the street?" He tightened his grip on her to add to the sensation of being trapped...of being out of options...certainly not because having her anchored to him felt so damn right.

  "No, I don't."

  He nodded. She was his. Not his as in his woman but his as in at his mercy. Just to make that clear.

  "But...would I be any safer from marauding men at your house?" There was a challenge in her gaze.

  He knew it was time for the truth. "I swear I'll never touch you."

  "In the twenty minutes we've been in each other's presence, you've already manhandled me twice for an extended period of time. It seems to be rather a habit with you."

  "It isn't usually. You seem to bring it out in me."

  She lifted an eyebrow. "Is that good or bad?"

  "You tell me."

  "Depends on whether I can close my eyes and pretend the rock hard, hunky body pressed up against mine belongs to someone I actually like. When I can do that, then it's good." She cocked her head. "But when I have to look at you, it dispels all chance for fantasy, and then it's bad."

  "You insult well."

  She nodded. "Thanks."

  "Though I won't take offense to being told I have a 'hunky body.'" Damned if she didn't look so appealing when her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  "You would dwell on that comment." She rolled her eyes. "Typical male. You were supposed to be so offended that you didn't notice that part."

  He grinned. "I should warn you, I actually have enough intelligence to follow an entire discussion without missing any of it."

  "Apparently." She didn't look impressed. "But back to the issue…"

  His eyebrows went up. "The issue?"

  "The fact you can't keep your hands off me," she said.

  "Of course I can."

  "You're fondling my butt right now."

  He stopped moving his hand. Damn. He hadn't even noticed. As if she'd believe that. "Just testing you. My apologies."

  "Apology not accepted." Except she didn't look mad. She looked amused. Entertained.

  "About the touching."

  "Yes?"

  "You're right. I'll probably touch you." Might as well get it out on the table.

  Her eyes sparked, and he felt like she'd zapped him in the gut.

  "But I'll never touch you sexually." And he'd write it on his bathroom mirror in permanent marker to remind himself. Because he had no doubt he'd be tempted. With her sexy curves and flashes of temper, he might have more than a moment or two when he wanted to forget she was there for his brother.

  She brought her lips together in a thoughtful pout. "Okay. Let me get this straight. You still think I'm a liar about how Buddy stole from me and my work, and got me evicted and fired."

  "It's possible," he had to admit. Possible that she was telling the truth, and he didn't like that. He had to find out what really happened.

  She raised her brows. "And you have no interest in me sexually."

  "I said I wouldn't touch you sexual
ly." Subtle difference.

  She raised an eyebrow, but let his remark go. "So, I'm having a little trouble understanding why you're making this oh-so-generous offer for me to stay with you while I get my life untangled. I can't quite see it stemming from some deep-seated selflessness or a need to help society in general."

  "I'm offended. I'm very selfless."

  "Answer the question, Evan. What gives?"

  Fine. "I'm doing it for Buddy."

  She narrowed her eyes. "For Buddy?"

  Hmm...if he said it was because he believed in his brother's innocence and he wanted to keep her around until he could find his brother and get them back together again, it might not go over so well. He was sensing a bit of hostility from Josie toward Buddy. "Because my family owes you."

  She didn't believe him. He could see it on her face, and admiration surged in his soul. He could never admire a gullible woman. "I don't believe you," she said.

  "I can see that."

  She frowned. "Really? I've been working on hiding my emotions."

  "You need to keep working."

  "Apparently." She shifted, and he was reminded that her belly was still pressed up against the front of his pants. If she kept moving, she'd also become aware of his awareness. Thankfully, she stilled. "However, I do believe that your family owes me. And I also believe you won't actually hurt me. And I'm in desperate straits which require me to drop what minimal standards I already have for living arrangements."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "More than welcome."

  "So, you'll move in?"

  She took a deep breath. "Yes, I'll move in."

  Even as he nodded and released her, he felt like he'd just stepped out of a small plane without a parachute. No oxygen, a rush of adrenaline, and a certain crash and burn.

  Not that he'd ever give up the ride.

  For the first time since college, he had a roommate.

  One he couldn't touch.

  Interesting didn't even begin to describe the situation. Especially since the only other furnished bedroom was right across from his.

  Chapter 8

  Big mistake.

  Colossal error.

  Total lapse of judgment.

  Why in heaven's name had she agreed to move in with Evan? Just following him up the plushly carpeted stairs was making her knees tremble. She was getting this weird sort of humming in her ears, as if it was in the distance but also inside her head. Was this what sexual attraction felt like? If so, she sure as heck hadn't been attracted to the man she'd married.

  Perhaps that was one of the reasons he'd fallen in love with someone else. He hadn't felt it for her either.

  Not that she was thinking about marrying Evan.

  Not that being sexually riveted by him would ever be enough to make a relationship between them work.

  Not that she was even in the market for a man. Any man. Let alone Evan.

  She was single. Independent. A mover and a shaker. Who happened to be homeless, broke, and lacking adequate transportation. If she didn't have a good imagination, she might even feel depressed.

  But as it was, she was pretty much occupied with keeping the drool from dripping down her chin as she followed Evan down the hall, watching the graceful way he glided across the floor. All muscle and power, all sinew and passion.

  What if she had a meaningless affair with him? It was relationships she'd banned herself from, not raw, hot sex. And since she hated Evan, it probably wouldn't be too hard to keep herself from getting emotionally involved. She could become a sex goddess, honed into a state of primitive sexuality, able to bring any man to his knees with a mere glance of her bedroom eyes and the pout of her sultry lips....

  "This is your room."

  Josie blinked as her fantasy faded from her mind. Wasn't this the second time in two days Evan had deprived her of a sexual fantasy? The man was going to owe her an apology. Maybe she'd allow him to apologize through sexual favors. "Where's your room?"

  Evan jerked his head to the doorway directly across from hers.

  Heat surged to her belly. "Wait a sec. Our rooms are across from each other?"

  "Yeah." He gave her a bored look, and kept walking, carting four duffel bags and a cardboard box into the bedroom he'd allocated to her.

  Across the hall. Their beds were mere steps away from each other. She'd probably be able to hear him breathing at night. "How many square feet is your house?"

  "Not sure."

  "Would over five thousand square feet be a bad guess?"

  "Don't know."

  "Liar. A man like you knows exactly how big his house is. Don't play Mr. Evasive with me. I'm way too cynical and bitter to put up with it."

  He dropped the bags next to the huge bed with a very male navy comforter, and a black steel headboard. No charm or warmth here, with the white walls and two lamps with the personality of a cement tile building. "Where do you want this stuff?"

  Hey! He wasn't allowed to ignore her question just because he felt like it. Maybe she had small boobs and a big butt, but she was a woman to be reckoned with. She was getting an answer whether he wanted to give one or not. "In this gigantic mansion, the only spare bedroom is right across from yours?"

  "The others aren't furnished." He yanked open the boring white shade, letting in sunlight that accentuated the dullness of the room even more.

  "You're kidding. Why?"

  He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. "No one sees 'em. Why bother to spend the money?"

  "I thought you were rich."

  "I hate that word."

  A little testy? Interesting. "Fine. I'll rephrase. I thought I was the only one in this relationship who couldn't afford furniture."

  He shot her a look that indicated he would have been happier with her dropping the topic instead of rephrasing. "I don't like to waste money."

  "Most people wouldn't consider furnishing a house a waste of money." She cocked her head. "But they might, however, consider it a waste of money to buy a house that was too big for you to afford, or so big that you didn't use ninety-five percent of it."

  "It'll be filled someday."

  "With what? Dust?"

  "People."

  "Who?"

  He scowled. "Has anyone ever told you you're annoying?"

  "Yes. So?"

  The corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "Fine. I bought the big house so everyone would know I'm filthy rich. But I'm never home, so I can't be bothered to furnish it. Just owning it serves my purposes of enhancing my reputation."

  Josie tilted her head. "I think you're lying."

  "Then I guess we're a perfect pair. I call you a liar, you return the favor. Match made in heaven, don't you think?"

  "No, not really. I suspect living here will be pretty far from heaven." No doubt, she'd be spending her nights wondering what he slept in. Silk boxers? Leopard skin bikinis? Cotton briefs? Nothing? She shivered.

  "I tend to agree with you," he said. "But since we're stuck with each other, let's just get on with it."

  "Amen. I'm all yours."

  "What?"

  Oh, wait a sec. "By 'get on with it,' you weren't talking about seducing me?"

  He turned red. Wow. Red. She'd never made a man turn red before. Was that because he had been thinking about it and she'd called his bluff? She could only hope.

  "I told you. There'll be none of that," he said.

  "I know," she sighed. "And that's best. But you know, sometimes my romantic female mind gets the best of me. Temporary insanity. Just dump me in a trough of stale water when it happens, and I'll be fine."

  He stared at her. "You are one unusual woman."

  Heat crept up the back of her neck at his sizzling expression. "What does that mean?"

  "I'm not sure. I'm still trying to figure it out."

  "Oh." What does a girl say to that? It could be a raving compliment, or a harsh slam.

  So she might as well employ her skills at distorting reality and take it as
an assertion that she was the most fascinating woman Evan had ever met and he was going to spend the rest of his life haunted by the woman he couldn't have.

  Ah, that was brilliant. Wonderful for her tattered ego.

  "So, um, the movers will be here soon." Evan moved toward the door, giving her a wide berth. What? Did he think she had hidden tentacles that would zap out and strike him down?

  "Great. Where should I put this stuff?" she asked.

  "What stuff?"

  She flipped her hand toward the sterile bed. "Your furniture. I have to put it somewhere to fit my furniture in here. Do you have a basement?"

  He stopped. Hmm... She took a subtle sniff and was rewarded with the scent of maleness, spice, and musk. Delicious.

  "You aren't putting your furniture in here."

  "Why not?"

  "Because it's old. Faded. Dirty."

  "But it has personality."

  "No." He turned his back and walked out of the room.

  No? Just like that? He thought he could order her around? "Evan..."

  He stopped and faced her. "If you move your stuff in here, I'll move it right out."

  "Why do you care?"

  "Because I sometimes have business dinners here, and people ask for tours of the house. We come to the top of the stairs and I show them the first two rooms. Yours and mine. That's why that room is furnished, and it's going to stay that way."

  So that's how it was. "So you really did buy this house to impress people." She never would have guessed Evan had the need to impress anyone, let alone through material goods. Maybe he wasn't as tough as he seemed.

  His face darkened. "It's not like that."

  "What's it like then?"

  "Forget it. Just leave the room as it is." He paused. "It's important to me."

  Holy mother of pearl. Knock her down with a baseball bat and trample her with a giraffe. Evan had just given her an honest-to-God emotional appeal. Never thought he even had it in him. Must encourage such behavior. "Fine. I won't touch my bedroom."

  He nodded, grunted something unintelligible and walked into his room.

  He was just shutting the door when Josie stuck her foot inside and blocked it.