Absolute Zero

by Anlyn Hansell

  “You better. Or just call me in the morning after he leaves…”

  “Stop!” she barked out a bit louder than she had anticipated.

  “Sorry, wishful thinking. Hot rich guy, panty melting accent, flowers…”

  Anne blew out a breath as she kept her back turned toward McClellan, trying desperately to collect her wits. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you later,” she whispered before pulling the phone from her ear and pressing the off button.

  “So, what’s for dinner?” McClellan’s voice seemed closer now, in fact, if she cared to turn around, he was maybe a few steps from her, if that. She just wouldn’t turn around.

  “Mahi Mahi tacos, daikon radish slaw…” she mumbled as she watched the frying pan.

  “Hmm. Sounds interesting. Have enough for two?” he asked before her body whipped around before she could stop it.

  “No!” Her eyes were wide and she gave her head a small shake. Of course the giant piece of fish left on the cutting board would negate that fact. The original intent was to cut it into portions and freeze it, not feed the man who so rudely wandered into the house he apparently owned.

  “Are you sure?” One of his brows rose as well as one side of his mouth. The action revealed a crease between his lips and cheek and if she cared to ponder it further, she would have to admit it was very attractive. She just wouldn’t ponder that.

  “Ok, obviously there is, but…you shouldn’t be here. Why are you here?”

  Why was he here?

  “Trust me, I asked myself that the entire time I walked over here,” he stated as he backed up and placed both hands on the edge of the island behind him before leaning his weight back on it. “Maybe I’m lonely; maybe I thought you might not like to spend your birthday alone? Who knows? I’m here, you have something cooking, I haven’t eaten dinner yet, I brought you flowers. You should probably return the kindness and feed me. It does smell incredible, by the way.” His eyes shifted from her face down her neck stopping abruptly at her chest before a lump formed in his throat. Immediately his eyes rose back to her face lest she catch him gawking at the small pinpoints protruding from her tight tank.

  Holy shit. Immediately he felt a tightening that had nothing to do with friendly intentions and more to do with sexual desire. It was, as with anything regarding Anne – a most unwelcome and slightly disturbing feeling. Keep looking at her face. Do not look down. His hands squeezed the counter edge like a vise.

  She must have caught on because her arms immediately crossed over her chest. “Did you say you walked over here?” she asked with a strange expression.

  “I did. Come on, I’ll show you something,” he turned and wandered toward the back patio doors. She finally unstuck her feet from the floor and followed him after he turned toward her. As soon as she neared the door he turned his attention out to the back yard and the copse of trees bordering the property.

  “See that ridge? There’s a house up there, you can see the floodlights through the trees at night. I own that house. Actually I own the whole ridge. It’s the only house up there.”

  Her eyes strained to make out anything beyond the thick trees covering the hill but came up with more trees.

  “So, I guess you could say we’re neighbors.”

  She could see he turned his attention to her once again out of the corner of her eye. She continued to stare straight ahead as he continued speaking. “Personally? I prefer this house. It’s much more appropriate for one person. That one? Insanely huge. I’ve tried selling it but no one snags it up. So I keep it. But I’m hardly ever here. Seems ridiculous…” he trailed off.

  “Anne?” he asked after a few moments.

  “Hmm?” she responded absently as her eyes continued to search the trees.

  “I think you better check the fish,” he stated calmly causing her to jolt and quickly turn toward the source of increased sizzling. For a second, she must have assumed the sound was her nerves crackling from his close proximity, not the fish.

  “Shoot,” she hissed out as her feet carried her quickly toward the stove. She immediately turned the knob and removed the pan from the burner and set it on another. This whole situation had her completely off balance. She took a deep breath with her back turned toward him, her eyes bolting downward catching a glimpse of her chest in the process. She almost groaned in despair. Almost. He had to have seen them…

  “Would you excuse me for a moment?” she asked before turning quickly and walking toward the living room.

  “Certainly. You’re not going to bolt out the front door, are you Anne?” she could hear as she rounded the railing and bounded up the steps to the second floor.

  Actually, that thought had crossed her mind, but how utterly ridiculous would that look? This was so completely surreal. She didn’t bother to respond to his quip. As soon as she entered the bedroom, her body immediately stalked over to the dresser drawers, pulling the sweat pants and oversized T shirt she kept for comfort, however they completely suited this situation. She opened another drawer and grabbed a bra even though she probably didn’t need it considering the size of the shirt. It gave her a bit of added confidence though. She had a feeling she would need it.

  *****

  He almost barked out a laugh. As it was, he could barely contain his amused smile at her San Diego Chargers T-shirt and sweat pants that could probably fit two of her inside. Charming…

  “Where? Ah…where did you get that?” she indicated the bottle of white wine and the half full glass he just took a sip from.

  “There’s a wine cellar in the basement. A small one, but it’s still stocked. You didn’t really look around here, did you?” he asked before grabbing another half full glass and holding it out to her.

  She stood firmly rooted to the entrance of the kitchen.

  “Come on Anne, my arm’s getting tired,” he smiled as her eyes shifted from the outstretched glass back to his face.

  “This is very odd,” she blurted.

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You really shouldn’t be here.”

  “Let’s just say I’m checking up on my investment,” he continued to hold the glass out. His arm was corded; his large, strong hand looked strange holding the delicate glass. She was staring at it.

  “Are you talking about the house or me?” she muttered.

  Good question.

  “The house, of course. Anne? Darling, take the glass. I promise my intentions are not nefarious in the least.”

  Her eyes shifted toward the beautiful array of brightly colored tulips he had placed in a mason jar on her counter.

  His eyes followed hers. “All right, I did bring you flowers, there is that. Just forget about that. Isn’t the food getting cold? Shouldn’t you be feeding me right about now?”

  “No. I should be thanking you for the flowers and showing you out the front door right about now,” she stated as she walked toward him, grabbed the offered glass and took a large gulp before settling her eyes on him. “This is very good,” she indicated the glass before turning toward the counter and setting it down next to the undressed slaw.

  “There’s all kinds of stuff down there, I’m actually surprised it’s still there. I thought about bringing a bottle, but I thought you’d get the wrong idea.”

  “I already have the wrong idea,” she mumbled as she drizzled vinegar over the radish and herb mixture before stirring it. Her hair had fallen over her eyes hiding whatever expression she was relaying at the moment. He kept his hands clenched to the granite counter edge, the urge to sweep her hair to the side with his fingers was almost overpowering.

  What was it about this woman?

  “So, I’ve never had a fish taco before. Are they good?”

  “No. They suck. You probably wouldn’t like them,” she answered almost immediately. His bark of laughter rang out through the kitchen and she snorted a small laugh before she caught herself.

  “Oh, Anne…” he was shaking his head before he pushed away from the co
unter. “Irene’s got nothing on you, I swear.”

  She immediately turned toward him.

  “I’m not sure how to take that. She has to be the most rotten person I’ve ever met and you say I’m worse?”

  His answer was a smirk and a slight shrug.

  “And you want me to feed you? You’ve got some nerve,” she stated but in a somewhat joking fashion, he observed.

  “Go sit,” she finally breathed out with a resigned sigh, turning to grab two plates from the cabinet before setting them down on the counter.

  *****

  “That was quite possibly one of the best things I ever ate. You’re a verra good cook, Anne,” he stated as he leaned back in his chair.

  It was the first time he had actually spoken during the meal other than the occasional appreciative moan.

  “Thanks,” she replied softly, her fingers toying with the delicate stem of the wine glass as she stared at the small amount of liquid left in it.

  “So, what’s for dinner tomorrow?”

  Her eyes immediately flew to his.

  “Relax, love. I’m joking,” he stated with a slight twist to his lips, noting the troubled look on her lovely face. “Actually, maybe I’m not. I’m a horrible cook,” he confided. “I eat out every night.”

  “Why don’t you just hire a chef?” she asked.

  “Are you applying? Fine. You’re hired.”

  “Not me. Working for you in one capacity is enough, thank you,” she quipped lightly before draining the rest of her glass and setting it back down.

  “That mouth,” he stated absently as he clearly focused his attention on her lips. “Are you like this with everyone or am I just lucky?”

  “I’m an equal opportunity offender. It doesn’t matter who you are. I haven’t singled you out, if that’s what you’re asking,” she responded with an involuntary smile.

  “Good to know. Have you made any friends at work yet? I mean, someone did make you a cake, I noticed.”

  “Birthday list. Everyone gets a cake, apparently. It was actually good,” she answered honestly.

  “I’m not sure if they spend more time eating or working in this place. It’s crazy. No wonder we’re so stagnant in the States. The employees are too busy stuffing their faces to actually get any work done. I’ll have to talk to Rand about that when he gets back,” he stated before taking the last sip of his wine.

  “So what if they like to eat? If you want them to work, give them better direction. You do own the company, you know. Don’t blame the food,” she declared pointedly. Maybe a bit too pointedly. She was speaking of her own lack of direction. Apparently her frustration was coming to the surface.

  Her remarks only caused one of his brows to rise. “You speak rather decidedly, eh? Any other opinions you want to share? Any more advice for running the company, Mouth?”

  Did she push him too far? Apparently not. One side of his mouth turned up, revealing that sexy crease once again.

  “No Sir,” she responded automatically, before mentally punching herself in the head. It was precisely the same response she would give to Sam when her mouth got the best of her.

  Don’t think about that. Don’t think about him.

  “I like that response, Anne.” His eyes did that intense stare that she found completely unnerving.

  “Don’t get used to it. It slipped,” she amended, leveling her own glare.

  “Hmm. Stay there.” He pushed away from the table and wandered past her into the kitchen. She trained her eyes on the chair he just vacated.

  A moment later, he was pouring more wine into her glass.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he emptied the rest of the bottle into his own glass.

  “This is a vintage Pouilly Fumé, I’d hate to waste it,” he declared as he set the bottle down.

  “Oh, right. Not like I can’t re-cork it and put it in the fridge or anything…”

  “Anne?” He drew out her name slowly, causing her eyes to meet his. “Cut that out.” His gaze was positively magnetizing. He wasn’t a classically handsome guy by any means but the intensity of his eyes made him one of the most attractive men she had ever encountered. He was filling the room, surrounding her with his presence, his attention focused solely on her face. She could feel the flush starting at her neck and creeping up to her cheeks. Another few seconds and she would be in full-on blushing mode.

  She couldn’t let him see that. She pushed away from the table, mumbled something about cleaning up and grabbed both of their empty plates before turning.

  She busied herself rinsing the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher before he finally spoke.

  “So, who was on the phone, Anne?” he asked as casually as possible as he watched her work in the kitchen. Her clothes were so incredibly baggy; it was impossible to discern her shape beneath them. She had been flushed a moment before she pushed away from the table. He’d like to think he was the cause of that. Throwing Miss Bennett off balance was becoming a most favorite pastime. Highly intriguing and quite arousing, if he was being honest with himself.

  Of course, he shouldn’t have come here. She was right. If she worked in the Scotland Lab he would never even consider the possibility of associating with her outside of work. As it was, he felt so far removed from the American operation, this seemed…acceptable? Was that the word?

  “Anne?” he was so lost in his own thoughts, he finally realized she never answered the question.

  “A friend,” she responded quietly as he watched her bend over to load another dish into the rack. Damn baggy drawers…

  “Boyfriend? Girlfriend? What?” he asked. She was so damn reticent…

  She didn’t answer, or maybe she did and he just didn’t hear her.

  “What was that?” He pushed away from the table, grabbing both wine glasses before wandering over to the sink and placing hers on the counter.

  “I didn’t answer,” she stated simply.

  “Was that a difficult question for some reason?” He leaned on the counter and watched her profile.

  “No, the response was going to be rude, so I kept it to myself for once.”

  “Oh. Can I guess what it was?” He watched her shoulders shrug through her giant t-shirt as she rinsed the silverware.

  “Go for it.”

  “Hmm. I would guess that the response was ‘none of my business’. Am I right?”

  She stopped her hands and turned her head toward him. “You know me so well,” she stated seriously. His joking grin was replaced by a seriously intent expression.

  “No. Not yet. But I want to,” he replied in a low voice. If the air around them wasn’t charged enough, his last comment caused a spike of awareness to course through her. He was too close. They were too alone. Anything could happen.

  She was having difficulty pulling her gaze away. Her mouth was suddenly dry, she noticed. She fought the urge to wet her lip with her tongue. He would take that as a sign or some kind of invitation. Instead she forced a swallow and fought frantically to come up with something to turn this conversation back to an appropriate one.

  “So…you built this house?”

  “What?” he was still staring at her.

  “The house? You said you built it when you first came here?” She watched him blink a couple of times before he finally relaxed back against the counter.

  “I did. Do you like it?”

  “Yes. It’s very cozy. It’s just surprising, that’s all.” She turned to view the water that continued to spew into the sink.

  “What’s surprising?”

  “Well, it seems kind of small for a man of your…means, I guess.”

  “I’m very, how do you say…down to earth? Is that the right term? I’m not a flashy man by any means. I have simple tastes. I told you I prefer this house to that one,” he indicated toward the backyard with his head.

  “Then why did you buy it?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Why did you buy that house?” she asked.


  “Wasn’t my idea,” he responded immediately.

  “Whose was it?”

  A small trickle of apprehension slithered up his spine at her questioning. He really didn’t want to have this conversation. “Anne? That was lovely meal. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome, eh?” He placed his wine glass back on the counter and took a few steps away from her, noticing the bowl still left on the table. He retrieved it, turning and catching her strange gaze before she turned her attention to sink once again. He walked over and placed the bowl in the sink.

  “You missed one,” he practically whispered. She could actually feel his breath on her ear. The front of his body was maybe an inch from hers. She watched as the bubbles multiplied in the sink as she swallowed back a reply. As it was, her lips couldn’t move. In fact, her whole body was held immobile, waiting…

  “Good evening, Anne,” his voice was so close to her ear, so soft. One of his hands was gripping the edge of the sink, she noticed. The veins practically popped from the top of his hand and his forearm, she noticed. As if he were holding himself back…

  “Good night,” she finally answered back on a shaky breath, watching his hand, feeling the warmth from his close proximity, wondering why she wasn’t feeling claustrophobic. Her body was reacting, and not in the usual way. This was far more disturbing.

  Suddenly his hand was gone, the warmth from a split second ago diminished. Her eyes were still trained on the spot his hand just vacated. She could hear the front door close before she finally took a gulp of air.

  *****

  She read over the presentation with a keen eye, looking for typos or anything else they may have missed the night before. It was eerily silent in the office the next morning. She wouldn’t see another human being for at least an hour. It would be the perfect time to hit the Lab and she intended to do just that.

  She purposely stayed away from the gym this morning, opting to run outside instead. After last night, she was rather positive that McClellan’s intentions were in no way of the friendly persuasion. He all but admitted that with some of his comments.

  The ringing phone on her desk caused her nerves to jump. It was so unexpected. Especially since it was her phone. Was it him?