He watched her lick a drop of tomatillo sauce off her lower lip and tried to ignore the tightening in his groin. “Are you always this hungry after a performance?”
She nodded. “Pretty much. Usually all the adrenaline keeps you powering through the show, but once it’s over, you crash. Plus, I can’t really eat anything before I sing.”
He managed a dry smile. “So you didn’t really eat hours ago?”
“I did eat hours ago. A piece of toast and some tea with honey.” She blew out a breath. “Look, I was mad at you. I still am, a little. But food helps.” She gave him a slow smile that made his body ache.
The lights in the restaurant suddenly seemed much brighter than they had before, even if it was almost midnight. “I’m sorry about the whole thing with Araceli. It just caught me sort of off-balance.”
She nodded. “She caught both of us. Or actually Lois did. I thought I’d covered up taking the key by switching some other keys on the board, but I underestimated her ability to detect sneakiness.”
“I’ll get Araceli off your case.” He pulled a tortilla out of the basket on the table. “I’ll tell her I ordered you to get the key. I did, sort of.”
“Right.” She tore off a piece of tortilla for herself and wiped up a smear of sauce. “Like you forced me to go to the house with you, while I tried desperately to stay at the office where I belong. Trust me on this, not even Araceli will buy that one. She knows me too well.”
His lips tightened. She doesn’t know you at all. “Did I blow your cover?” He speared the last bite of enchilada before she could beat him to it. “I know you were trying to stay under her radar.”
“I don’t know how much longer I could have kept that up anyway. It sort of goes against my nature. All this ‘Yes, sir, no ma’am’ stuff. It’s really not my style.”
“So you’ll tell Araceli about the Chalk Creek Changelings?”
She dropped her gaze to her plate again. “Not yet. Don’t push it, Danny. I’m not your problem.”
Suddenly, he wanted her to be his problem. “Look, Biddy, it’s not going to get any better there. I mean, Araceli’s not going to change the way she feels about you and your music, no matter how wrong she is. And you’re too good a musician to waste your time trying to keep her happy.”
She studied her refried beans, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Thanks, but I need to be the one who decides how to do this. For myself, and for her. We’ve got family things to work out. And she is my sister.”
He grimaced. “I can understand family feeling. God knows I’ve got enough family of my own, but Biddy . . .”
She reached out, placing her hand lightly on his. “If you understand, then let it be, Danny. I appreciate the support, but just let it go, okay?”
Heat radiated from her hand, spreading across his body and down. Her turquoise eyes held him. He wanted to slide into those pools, drift there, drown there.
Danny swallowed. He didn’t think he’d ever gotten that hard that quickly in his entire life.
“Okay,” he managed to croak. “If that’s what you want, Biddy.”
Turquoise sparkled now with fire, flecks of flaming gold. “What do you want, Danny?”
Oh, Lordy, talk about your leading questions! He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I want to pay the check and take you back to my place. Right now. Maybe sooner. Is that okay with you?”
Her lips spread into a slow grin, cheeks flushed, eyes alight. “Oh, yes. Definitely. Definitely okay.”
The drive to Monte Vista seemed to take about twice as long as usual. He considered running all the red lights. Surely there were more of them than there should have been. Beside him, Biddy sat silent.
He pulled into his driveway and stopped, then turned to look at her.
Don’t change your mind, oh, my Lord, don’t change your mind!
Her face was lost in the shadows from the live oaks in his front yard, and then she leaned forward into the reflected light from his porch. “That was the longest fifteen-minute drive in history.”
Danny closed his eyes, willing his body to slow down. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, as he pushed his door open. “It surely was.”
***
Biddy watched Danny unlock his front door. Nice house, what she could see of it. It looked like a forties stucco. Spanish-style with a tile roof. Maybe two stories. Good size for a single. Or a couple.
Without meaning to, she thought of the first time she’d seen him. Walking into the office, his suit coat slung over one shoulder, his collar open to show a V of golden skin, his sandy hair mussed, his eyes . . . Oh, those eyes! She’d thought he was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
This is your new assistant, my sister Biddy. And she’d looked down at her tacky suit, her useless glasses, her stupid shoes, and wished to her soul that she’d never taken this job in the first place.
Of course, she didn’t feel that way anymore!
Right now he seemed to be having a lot of trouble with his own front door lock, jiggling the key and cursing under his breath. She grinned. Somehow she’d managed to reduce Mr. Suave and Sexy to frenzied muttering. Way to go, Biddy!
He finally pushed the door open. Moonlight poured through a window on the staircase landing, turning the front hall silver and gray. She stepped inside as he closed the door behind her, and he pulled her tight against his body.
She had a moment to be profoundly grateful that she hadn’t had anything too garlicky for dinner. Then he lowered his mouth to hers, and she forgot how to breathe.
The kisses they’d had before had all been tryouts for this one, Biddy realized. She pulled herself tighter against the hard muscle of his chest, angling her mouth slightly so that his tongue could plunge deeper. Her body tightened and ached, tingling as if a current were radiating out from her center, and from his hands as they moved across her skin, touching, stroking, kneading.
One hand moved to her breast, his fingers rubbing across her nipple. She gasped, then moved her own hands down, feeling the contours of muscle beneath his shirt.
He lifted his head, muttering again. “We’ve both got way too many clothes on.” His eyes burned with green fire in the half darkness.
She ran her lips along the underside of his chin, grinning inside. “What happened to those scruples, Mr. Ramos?”
“What scruples?” he rasped, nibbling at the edge of her ear. “You must be thinking of somebody else. When it comes to you, all my scruples dissolve.”
She felt like laughing, but she was suddenly too breathless to manage it. For a moment she wondered if she might faint again, and then she knew she wouldn’t.
He had found the zipper at the back of her dress. He fumbled with the hook and eye at the top, and then she felt cool air against her skin.
She slid her hands to his chest and jerked at the buttons on his knit shirt. After a moment, he stepped back, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor behind him.
He put his hands on her shoulders, staring down into her eyes. “I’m about two seconds away from doing you here against the door, and I don’t want our first time to be like that. Come upstairs with me.” His voice rasped against her like something she could touch.
Whatever breath she’d been able to get back into her lungs promptly disappeared. She managed to nod, barely.
He reached down, wordlessly, and scooped her into his arms. Then he took the stairs two at a time.
She rested her hands on his chest, feeling the slight crinkle of hair under her fingertips. Would it be brown or golden? She promised herself to find out, maybe in the moonlight.
He turned at the top of the stairs, hitting a door with his shoulder. She had a quick impression of a dresser and closet as he stepped across the carpet, and then she was on her feet and he was pulling the sheer fabric of her
dress over her head.
She reached to unfasten the front of her bra, and he covered her hand with his. “Wait a second. Let me look at you.”
Moonlight poured through the window, turning the darkness gray. She kicked off her shoes and stood in a pool of silver, letting the beams play across her body.
He slid his fingers along the line of light from her breast to her stomach, the slight roughness of his fingertips feathering across the surface of her skin. He unfastened the clasp of her bra, then pushed it off her shoulders, letting her breasts hang free.
“Perfect,” he whispered.
Normally, she might have doubted him, but right then she felt perfect herself. Right man, right night. Perfect timing, too.
She moved backward, feeling the side of the bed press against her legs.
He stepped after her, digging into his pocket, his forehead creasing. “Maybe you could give me a little help here.”
“Help?”
“I need to get my wallet out,” he muttered. “Condoms.”
Biddy slid her hand inside his jeans pocket, her fingers grazing the swell of male muscle.
Danny groaned.
She felt like giggling, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to stop. “Courage, Mr. Ramos. I’ve almost got it.”
“Good.” His voice sounded a little choked.
Her fingers closed around the wallet and she pulled it out, rubbing the back of her hand against him again, not entirely by accident.
His breath hissed out and he jerked open his belt buckle. “You’ll pay for that.”
“I’m counting on it.” She grinned. She would have reached for his zipper, but he seemed to be taking care of that himself. Very quickly.
Her grin faded as she stared. God, he was gorgeous! But she already knew that. His shoulders, his chest with the fine spray of golden hair, the tight muscles of his stomach. She knew he’d look like this. She’d always known.
“Gosh,” she whispered.
Oh, wonderful, Biddy! Gosh and golly, gee willikers, some pecs you got there, handsome!
His teeth flashed in the moonlight. “Just what I was thinking.”
She wet her lips, staring up at him. He was absolutely ready, judging by his arousal. Was she? What if she wasn’t right? What if he didn’t like having sex with her? What if . . .?
He leaned over her, pushing her down on the bed, the heat from his body radiating against her skin. “Biddy, if you change your mind now, I’m a dead man.”
She placed her hands on his chest, running her fingers through his hair to pinch the flat nipples. “Whyever would I want to change my mind, Mr. Ramos?”
He groaned again.
***
Danny figured he’d be lucky to live through the evening, and not just because he was breaking all those ethical rules he’d posted for himself. He was going to have sex with his assistant. His assistant who had the most perfect breasts he’d ever seen. His assistant, who made him feel like his lower body had been turned to granite again. Aching granite.
Her fingers left streaks of cool fire on his chest. He closed his eyes, concentrating on her touch, trying to slow down his pulse rate. Take your time. Feel it all.
He dipped his head again, running his tongue along her collarbone, tasting a hint of salt, smelling almonds. Below him her breathing sped up.
He moved lower, running his lips along the side of her breast, then taking the nipple into his mouth, pressing it hard between teeth and tongue as he sucked.
Her breath became a gasp. She moaned, moving her hands down his body, along his thighs. He sucked harder, pulling more of her breast into his mouth.
“Oh, sweet,” she murmured, moving her hips against him.
Holy crap. His breath caught in his chest. Take your time. Feel it all. Yeah, right.
He licked his way down her body, feeling the satin softness of her skin beneath his palms, then spread her inner lips, feeling the warm heat of her arousal.
She arched again, her hips rubbing hard against him. He took several deep breaths and tried to remember how to calculate compound interest in a vain effort to jolt his brain out of attack mode.
No chance there. He’d better make this good because he had a feeling he’d need some recovery time. He ran his tongue along the inside of her thigh, feeling her fingers twist in his hair.
“Oh, God, Danny!”
He looked up into the deep pools of her eyes. “Any problem, ma’am?”
“I’m going to die here very soon.”
“Right.” He managed a grin that was probably more like a grimace. “But we’ll both die happy.” He moved his mouth to her mons, sucking, hearing her moans become shorter, more emphatic. Hang on there, Biddy. Just give me a few more . . .
He closed his eyes. There weren’t a few more, not for him. He reached for the bedstand, fumbling at his wallet. Given the pain he’d gone through to get the damn things out, he wasn’t going to forget them now.
“Danny?” She reached for him. “Let me . . .”
“No,” he gasped. “Definitely not. No touching. Not if you want this to last beyond the next two minutes.” He sheathed himself, then pushed up on his elbows, staring down into those deep blue pools again.
And then he slid inside. Into damp heat that would very soon be driving him insane.
Her sigh was half groan. “Oh, my Lord, that feels so . . . good.”
“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes.” It seemed to be all he could say. He moved slowly, feeling her warmth clasp and unclasp around him, enfolding him tight. And still he stared down at her, watching her face, willing her to keep her eyes open. Watch me, Biddy, watch me. Only me. Only me.
The words hammered in his brain, picking up the rhythm of his body, quickening now as he felt her legs move around his sides, her heels tucked behind him.
He felt the tightening in her body at the same time he felt the warmth begin to move up his spine. No. No. No. Not yet. Not until he saw her come.
She threw her head back, her face set, eyes closing.
“No,” he gasped. “Look at me. Look at me.”
Her eyes popped open almost at the same time her body arched beneath him. He caught her cry, covering her mouth with his, swallowing the sound as his own body began to shudder.
Heat exploded in his groin, behind his eyes, along his spine. His body convulsed, driving deep, again and again.
His tongue stabbed into her mouth as his body plunged once more, beyond his control. But then the whole thing had been beyond his control. Maybe since the first time he’d seen her.
“Biddy,” he whispered. “Ah, Biddy.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, tucking her head into the curve of his shoulder. Danny managed to roll to the side, before his body slumped. He nestled her against him, pulling the sheet across them both.
Ghosts, goblins, and things that go bump in the night notwithstanding, he’d just had what was probably the best sex of his life. And he wasn’t about to let her go without at least one encore. Assuming he could scrape himself up from the puddle of pure satisfaction he currently occupied.
Chapter 15
Danny recognized the room. Unfortunately. Why now, when he was warm and happy and so satisfied his bones had turned to jelly? He should have been sleeping the sleep of the totally oblivious. Instead, he was back inside the goddamned carriage house, looking at a ghost.
Of course, the damned part might be the literal truth, given his luck.
The ghost stood across from him, half hidden in shadows. Danny had the feeling he was disappointed. Maybe Danny wasn’t supposed to be having a good time when the ghost had things for him to do.
“Go away,” he murmured.
The ghost stayed where he was. Clouds drifted across the moon, sendin
g stripes of silver across the floor.
“I don’t want to be here.” His voice felt stronger now. “I’m trying to help you. Bringing me here doesn’t make it any easier. Leave me alone.”
Moonlight moved across the ghost’s face. For a moment, he wondered how light could move across something transparent. It’s a dream, doofus. Anything goes. The ghost’s eyes remained in shadow, but the gash in his throat showed clearly.
Terrific. The ghost’s injuries were one part of the whole thing that didn’t need emphasizing. “You’ve made your point,” he snapped. “Somebody murdered you. You want payback. Or something. I get it.”
The ghost stared at him, unmoving, and Danny sighed. He really wanted out of this dream.
And then something moved in the far corner of the room.
He forced himself to stand still. Maybe it was the cat. Probably it was the cat. Although he’d never seen the cat in the carriage house before. Not that he’d been looking.
Another movement, something flashing in the moonlight. Not the cat. He narrowed his eyes, staring into the darkness. Something white, gleaming white.
A woman. He could see her now in the shadows, her outline against the far wall. She moved again and he saw her white dress, dimmed to silver gray in the shadows.
His gaze flicked back to the ghost. “Who’s your girlfriend?”
The ghost faded further into the darkness, his form blending with the wall behind him.
The woman took a step forward.
Her long white dress glittered in the moonlight, the sleeves diaphanous and flowing around her arms. Her waist looked impossibly small, nipped in, wrapped in a long silk sash in a color that looked black in the darkness. She reminded Danny of a John Singer Sargent painting, some wealthy woman of leisure, trapped now in the dust and shadows of the carriage house.
And then she stepped forward again and he saw her face. Or where her face should have been.
Darkness. Shadows within shadows. A face that wasn’t a face but a yawning black cavity.
Danny opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his throat was too tight—no sounds came out.
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