Kiltless

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Kiltless Page 12

by Melissa Blue


  But now Tristan knew he'd get as far as she'd let him go. Headstrong but adventurous? He could have fun with that.

  Finally, he said, “Sounds like a deal.”

  She laughed, the husky sound spilling over him. “The next few hours are going to be fun, but just to be clear, if you do grab my ass, I'll break your hand.”

  “Auch,” he scoffed. “Woman, it was a joke.”

  “That's not what your eyes said.”

  He met and held her gaze “Probably not. You're an attractive woman, but that's beside the point. Due to bribery and blackmail, we're spending an afternoon together listening to someone blather on about preservation of a historical home, of all dull subjects. I'd rather someone wax my nads. If flirting with you would make this afternoon less shite, then I'm all for it.”

  “You flirt with your hands?”

  He liked her. Really, he did. “There's another way?” Since she hadn't moved, he pressed his free hand to her waist, bringing her flush against him.

  To his surprise, she looked flustered for a second. “Tristan, my cousin warned me about you. I thought she was full of it.”

  He smiled again, loosening his hold on her only slightly. “I'm sure my brother gave her the rundown, and then she met me at the wedding.”

  She put both hands on his chest and pushed him back, breaking all the physical contact they had. “Either way, strictly hand holding.”

  “I swear on my honor.” Tristan didn't add he didn't have any, but her brow lift negated the need to say it.

  She put out her hand. “Let's try this again and see how long before you try for more.”

  He wrapped his fingers around hers. Her palm was warm and slightly damp. Once again her reaction conflicted with her words and demeanor. Interesting. He'd conned a lot of people in his lifetime. A lot of women. He rolled his shoulders to shift the weight of wrongs.

  This woman puzzled him, though. His brother had been clear that this foray into his life would be quick and required very little. In short, Tristan couldn't fuck up. He'd pretend to be his brother for a few hours. Play nice with Jocelyn's cousin and not let the door hit him in the arse on his way back out of Ian's life.

  He owed his brother that much, but as he looked at the woman beside him, other ideas started to take hold. Not like his brother would be surprised that they had, but it was a few hours at the most. Not much could happen...so he'd try to have all the fun he could.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Keri Pearson's heart refused to settle as Tristan's leg brushed hers. He walked with ease beside her into the hotel's lounge. Way more than a handful of people wore the same kind of badge she and Tristan had pinned to their chests. The hotel looked like the run-of-the-mill location for a convention. Big, roomy, but with a sameness you'd find with any upscale yet affordable place.

  The hotel's registration desk was to their right. A bar to her left that couldn't possibly hold all the people going to and fro. They had a theme she couldn't exactly place, because trendy and fashion wasn't her forte. It looked...modern? No homages to any particular time she could recognize.

  “Do you know where we're going?” she asked.

  “Aye.”

  Should she say something else? She swallowed and the dryness in her throat grated. Well, when she had something of importance to impart she'd talk. She dared to glance at the man beside her who looked at home.

  He wore a simple dress shirt and slacks. He'd rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, but his fierce expression made her think he could wear the same exact clothes in a boardroom and no one would question his authority. He simply looked capable. His palms scratched against hers and that told her he worked enough with his hands to grow calluses. His eyes held more gray than blue. Nothing about his appearance told her he was a flirt and probably a borderline pervert. He looked like a man who'd tell you what you needed to do and you'd do it because he'd spoken the words.

  He let go of her hand and let his fingers grip her waist. Her shoulders inched up. The hold told any man walking by who she belonged to. She'd done enough studies to know that the gesture fit for a newlywed couple, especially a male with alpha tendencies.

  Humans may have stood upright eons ago, parading their superiority with their opposable thumbs, but they couldn't shed even the simplest primitive urges. People recognized it on the same subconscious level. They'd look married or at least in a close and sexually heated relationship, and that was their goal.

  The problem had everything to do with her brain getting those same caveman signals and taking them way too seriously. This was pretend. The ring that weighed her third digit looked and felt real. He'd told her no, but cosmetic jewelry didn't have the same density. She'd have to wait until he wasn't paying attention to bite into what she suspected was a diamond. Three very large ones that she couldn't afford to lose, because her children's children would still be paying off the debt.

  Why couldn't she stop thinking? This was her problem. Maybe if she could, she could find something of importance to say.

  His hand lowered, not quite cupping her ass, but close enough. Her nipples pressed against the satin summer dress she'd donned to look more like her cousin. Keri had never seen Jocelyn wear baggy pants, Crocs and a loose shirt. Unfortunately that was all Keri seemed to wear. Her cousin was effortlessly feminine. She wore heels and dresses. Even when she'd worn pants they hugged luscious curves men drooled over.

  Stop. Thinking.

  “You all right, lass?” Tristan didn't bother to bring his gaze down to hers, but his Scottish accent reached out and wrapped around her.

  That too was effortless. He was the epitome of sex, desire and temptation without trying. She was going to have a heart attack by the end of this exchange. Her field was filled with men and she'd learned to keep up with innuendos, to never falter under blatant offers of sex, but this effortless seduction and flirtation just might undo her. A smart mouth made a soft behind, and Tristan seemed to have every intention of testing out the theory.

  “Hand,” she muttered.

  A part of her wished he'd leave it right there. Her brain piped up, listing all the reasons she shouldn't want him to touch her. She'd just met him. Who the hell knew what kind of man he was? The primitive side didn't care.

  They continued to move through the hotel. At every corner signs let them know they were headed on the right path to the class they needed to attend. The noise level held at a decibel she'd never experienced. If Tristan's wandering hand hadn't been a serious concern, she'd have tried to observe the conversations swirling around them.

  “You're tense.” Tristan frowned down at her.

  Labs had beeps, whirs. People made their own distinctive noise. “It's loud in here.”

  He made a soft noise and nodded. “You spend all your time in a lab with relics.”

  “Dead men tell no tales, but their relics do.”

  He scoffed. “Sounds like scintillating conversation you have.” He hesitated before pushing her against the nearest wall. His brows furrowed while his body blocked out any passersby. “Are you shy?”

  Was it that obvious? But then she noticed how damp her hands felt. Yeah. It was. “I'm not a fan of crowds.”

  He took in the people around them. They went in and out of the convention rooms. People poured out of every square space, and the noise of it all jangled her nerves. He sure as hell didn't help. Tristan was too close. His musky scent of spice and man filled up the distance between them.

  His slacks rubbed against her bare legs as he edged closer. “Tell me about your work.”

  She blinked, surprised at the demand. He looked like he was going to hem her up against the wall and break their agreement about holding hands only.

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “I'm interested in carbon dating. Ian's told me about what he does over the years, but that's the one thing he has no real clue about.”

  Doubt crept in at his request. “You really want to talk about this?”

&nb
sp; He placed his other hand above her right shoulder. “I don't expect folks to really ask about what we do, and that's usually when they ask.”

  A thought hit her sideways. Jocelyn had stressed to be on alert at all times with him. The man was slippery. He captivated her, had distracted her from reason with just a smile. That should have made her not like him, much less trust him. “I bet you're a car salesman.”

  The gray in his eyes glinted. His smile was effortless and dipped in sin. Her heart kicked. She had no doubt the authenticity of his smile because of the way it lit his gaze, but goodness.

  Tristan nodded. “Used to be a con man. I do honest work now as a carpenter. The world never has a shortage for men who are good with their hands and have a strong back.”

  She didn't think he meant work, but she couldn't tell with him. Everything he said sounded like a double entendre. Maybe he meant it to, and if you took one of his statements down a road filled with sweat and naked bodies, he wouldn't put up much of a fight to correct you. Her cousin definitely hadn't prepared her for this.

  “Uh,” she started and lost the train of thought.

  The warmth of his hand shifted from above her shoulder to her collarbone. His fingertips caressed her bared skin and trailed to her chin. His touch was soft yet firm, and shot straight down to her stomach. She bit her lip to keep in a moan.

  Heat and need filled her at the simple touch and it probably showed in her gaze. More than likely she poured out the kind of pheromones that let him know on some primitive level she wanted him to keep caressing her.

  He nodded. “There you go. You're looking wary again instead of frightened. We can't be having the latter.”

  “You're touching me.” She pointed out the obvious.

  “I am.” He didn't look sorry for it. “And I don't plan to stop until you look less scared.”

  Her spine straightened at the accusation. “I'm not scared.”

  “No?” His brows rose, and he took another step forward. One leg invaded the space between her thighs.

  She suddenly wanted to jerk her hips forward and hope the hard muscle of his leg would press against the ache his stare and touch ignited. Blood rushed from her heart and other limbs to assist the basic sexual need to have him lift his leg so she could straddle it and for once in her life let go.

  He seemed like the kind of man who wouldn't bat an eye that they were standing in a hallway, right next to the class they'd have to enter. He'd steady his leg against the wall, grip her hips to guide her straight to an orgasm, and still he wouldn't be satisfied until her come dampened his slacks.

  And because it seemed like he was that kind of man, she had to take control as always. Common sense had vacated the moment she stopped breathing air that wasn't scented with spice and man.

  She pushed back her shoulders and they met the cold hard wall behind her. “Crowds unnerve a lot of people. Factor in the noise, the number of people in one small enclosed space, and my reticence to dive headlong into it makes sense. I wasn't prepared for this. I'm thinking of all the ways we'll likely get caught. And once again you've broken our hands-only rule. Do you blame me?”

  No emotion graced his face for a moment and then he threw his head back and laughed. “You'd be amazed by what a man can do with just his hands.”

  She wanted to know, more than she wanted control. “I bet you could do a lot, but I think we've established that we're a hot and heavy newlywed couple.”

  He dipped his head and crushed his mouth to her neck. The move was so unexpected she did moan. He didn't lick her, just let his mouth trail up to her ear. “Anyone looking at your flushed face and my reaction to it will assume what we're going to do once this class is over.”

  Oh. My. God. “Mission accomplished, then.”

  “Not quite.” He stretched the words out and could have meant anything. “See, we were asked in a very subtle way to ensure our family got into their dream home.”

  Keri could think as soon as he moved. Now all she could do was feel his warmth. She lifted a hand to his chest. It was as solid as the wall behind her. “And that means?”

  “We need to get chummy with all the members of the association. Let them fall in love with us. Everyone loves a couple who is in love.”

  She breathed in. Spice. Man. Sex. “Not the sickeningly sweet ones.”

  “Then we won't be sweet.”

  His leg, his chest and the way his breath feathered against her ear was a constant distraction that needed her full attention. But then his plan clicked into place. “You want to con them. I thought you did honest work.”

  He chuckled. The soft air from it tickled her ear. “Why do you think my brother asked me to do this?” he asked. “I have a cousin who is the spitting image of him. So what do you say, Keri? Are you up for a little fun?”

  “A little con,” she corrected and tried to get her brain working. “My cousin only asked me to show up for the class.”

  “And why is that?” He sounded interested, but his lips were busy brushing against her neck.

  She sighed, hoping this would never come up. “I'm currently between jobs.”

  He pulled back. “So a few hours of fun won't kill you.”

  She thought about it, because she could again with his mouth gone. “We don't even know what these people look like.”

  “Oh, but I do. I told you, my brother wanted this. He sent me all the details after I agreed.”

  She gasped. “Jocelyn knows?”

  His gaze followed the line of her neck and he looked pensive. “Maybe you can call her and ask if she wants you to do everything and anything to get her the home.”

  She snorted. “Of course she would want me to.”

  He smirked. “Are we agreed, then?”

  Her cousin had warned her about Tristan, but this didn't seem like a bad idea. It was a few hours at best and it had been a long while since she'd done anything, something that made her pulse kick. If looking at him did that, what would it feel like to play along with his scheme? And this felt like helping her cousin's cause. And that was probably how a con man conned.

  Yeah. She was right. She'd have a heart attack by the end of this. “I'm in.”

  He straightened, taking his warmth and scent with him. “We have thirty minutes before class. More than enough. We'll start you off easy. Just look like you want to bite me and we'll work our way up from there.”

  Maybe she hadn't noticed before because Tristan was a lot to take in, but he'd left the top buttons on his shirt undone. His throat was thick like a football player’s. Yeah. She could imagine and even want to sink her teeth into his skin. He probably tasted like the best bad decision she ever made.

  “Just like that,” he murmured.

  She blinked. “What?”

  He laughed again. “I think you're ready. And look who just walked by. The head honcho, Montgomery.”

  Her palms were on the verge of weeping sweat. “And all I have to do is look like I want to bite you?”

  “Aye.” His burr thickened on the single word.

  Well, she had the easy part. “I'm ready.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Tristan tossed a worried glance toward his partner in crime. She'd fidgeted the first twenty minutes of class until he slipped his hand under the table and grasped her bouncing leg. He kept his hand there for the next two hours and forty minutes. Touching her seemed to be the only thing to keep her from flipping her wig. All he wanted to do was slide his hand up, and that made those two hours and forty minutes torture while he tried to readjust his prick with no one the wiser.

  At the end of the class Keri looked like she was on the verge of rambling and probably confessing they weren't a real couple. Well-wishers on their marriage littered the walkway since most of the sessions had let out at the same time. If he hadn't forced reform down his throat, he may have continued to make a life out of crime. But Keri should stay far, far away from it. She shouldn't even flirt with the idea of breaking a single law if this was h
ow she devolved afterward.

  He grabbed hold of her elbow, excused them and pulled her into the nearest stairway. The door clicked soundly behind them and the noise level from the convention echoed off the empty staircase. The muffled voices were loud enough to keep the starkness in her gaze.

  “Take a deep breath,” he ordered.

  Her cheeks puffed up and she blew a few strands of hair out of her face. He added adorable to words he'd never used, but it applied to her.

  “I'm blowing it, aren't I?” she asked. “We did good. Everyone likes us. Well, they like you and I'm sort of added to the package.”

  “They liked you too,” he reassured her in a calm voice. His heartbeat grew steadier, seeing she'd be okay. “Really they did, especially when you stopped looking like you'd get sick on their shoes.”

  She narrowed her gaze, looking better already at the veiled insult. “You pinched my ass. I thought we had an understanding.”

  She'd be fine. The worry he had disappeared. He snorted. “You were blowing it. I had to do something.”

  “And pinching my ass was the answer?”

  He shrugged. “You giggled and blushed. It worked.”

  She gasped, looking appalled. “I did not giggle.”

  He did his best not to laugh, but a smile leaked out. Tristan had spent a good deal of his adulthood around folks who'd seen more than their fair share of life. Being around her was refreshing. He knew people, he knew women. He suspected Keri wouldn't take life so seriously. He hoped that was something about her that would never change.

  “You giggled like a nervous schoolgirl,” he said. “That gave me the opportunity to look at you with longing. That sealed the deal. If Jocelyn and Ian don't get an acceptance for their application, then there's just no hope for them.”

  His words teased out the beginnings of a smile though not quite. “You think so?” she asked.

  “I'm good at what I do. You weren't too bad either.”

  She snorted. “Lies.”

  It was, but she'd finally calmed completely. He let her go but chose to stay in her space. He liked being there. She had a warmth and purity about her. And a smart mouth.

 

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