Thanks to her best friend, fellow writer, Ghost, she’d learned to put on what he called the ‘game face’. Yeah, she’d soon learned to put on that second face, and at times take on some of the personalities of her characters.
Survival mode through fantasy. One just could never have guessed that would come in handy, especially today. Man, putting that teasing jerk in his place had felt good. In fact, it had felt bloody awesome. Never in all the time that she’d known him in the distant past had she ever been able to get back at his teasing with a quick quip. Nope, this was the first time, and if he continued to be an arse it wasn’t going to be the last time.
Now she felt rather good about being in the same house as him, knowing she could hold her own.
But it still didn’t explain one thing. She looked up at the broad shoulders of her cousin as he strode down the passage with his easy, lazy gait. “Why didn’t you tell me your housemate was Alan Cooper?”
“Alan?” Sam scratched his thick thatch of sandy hair, causing several strands of sun-streaked locks to come loose from the tie holding it at the nape of his neck. “I didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“Huh.” He pushed the glasses up his nose and stopped in front of an open door. “Didn’t think it mattered.”
“It didn’t. Doesn’t.”
“There you go, then.” Smiling like the big, gentle bear he was, Sam gestured to the bedroom. “Here you go, Soph.”
She peered past him and smiled in delight. The bed was huge and covered in a flower-patterned quilt which matched the curtains. The carpet was thick, the furniture light-coloured wood and gleaming with polish. The clock on the wall had a flower pattern on the face and there was an actual cross-stitch on the wall of a garden. The whole room had an old, English country charm to it. “Your sister’s been decorating, hasn’t she?”
“I let Chelsea loose on the guest bedroom.” At Sophie’s sideways glance, Sam grinned a little sheepishly. “Apparently my style of furniture is too masculine to fill the whole house. She reckons at least one room needs a feminine touch.”
“Really? I actually like what I’ve seen so far. I’ll have to check the house out after I unpack.”
“Good plan.” Crossing to the other side of the room, Sam opened the window to let in the breeze. “Across the hall is the bathroom and Alan’s bedroom. Mine is next to you. Unfortunately, you have to share the bathroom with us blokes.”
“Great. Super. Am I going to be in for any unexpected surprises?”
“Nah.” Grinning, he crossed the room again to sling his arm around her shoulders. “We cleared out the condoms from the bathroom cabinet and the porn magazines from the toilet this morning.”
“Ew, and ew, and did I mention ew?”
“I think you may have.” He gave her a squeeze that almost took her breath away. “I’m glad you came, Soph. I missed you.”
“Yeah, me too.” Tilting her head back, she grinned up at him. “Do you still make a mean mince pie?”
“You bet.”
“Part of the reason I came.”
“Don’t I know it.”
He left her to unpack.
Crossing to the window, she peered outside. The garden was neat and tidy, a testament to the fact that Sam loved gardening. After nursing cranky patients and working with sometimes equally cranky doctors, he probably enjoyed tending to things that simply responded to TLC and grew without complaint. His glasses still gave him the air of an absentminded professor and yeah, he could be very absentminded, but when it came to his job or anything important he had a mind as sharp as a whip.
How such a big bear of a man became a nurse, she’d never know. Shaking her head, Sophie drew back into the bedroom. Sam Willow was big, muscular and sported a surfy-kind of look about him, what with his tan and shoulder length, sun streaked sandy hair, but he was gentle and caring, his eyes warm, his laugh clear, and he didn’t lack for dates. No lucky woman had caught him yet, though not for want of trying.
Any woman would be lucky to catch Sam Willow.
But pity the poor female who latched onto Alan Cooper, that’d be just asking for trouble.
Opening the suitcase, Sophie shook her head. From all appearances so far, Alan hadn’t changed much. He’d teased her when they were both young and he was still a tease. The man truly hadn’t grown up. But she’d handled him in the kitchen and she’d handle him again.
She just bet there’d be plenty of women willing to handle Alan. As much as her nerves felt a bit ruffled by his teasing, she had to admit that he cut a fine figure of a man. Boyishly handsome, tall, and though built more towards lean he had definite muscle. No doubt he did a bit of body building. Probably to have a chance to ogle the gym bunnies in their tank tops and tight gym shorts.
The gym was out of her league. Sophie preferred a long, leisurely stroll around the streets, literally stopping to smell the roses and enjoy the view. The street Sam lived in was pretty and she looked forward to going for a walk in the late afternoon and checking it out.
Unpacking her clothes, she stored them neatly in the wardrobe and drawers. The toilet bag she placed on the corner of the dressing table, the box of books in the corner of the room. A quick trip to the toilet, a hand wash in the bathroom and a check of her face to ensure she still looked tidy, and Sophie was done.
Exiting the bathroom, she almost tripped over a skinny ginger cat that looked balefully up at her and refused to shift.
“Hello. You must be Sam Junior.” Bending down, she offered her hand for the cat’s inspection.
“SJ for short,” Alan said from behind her.
Glancing around, she saw him leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. Arms folded across his chest, a half buttoned shirt hiding the muscles beneath, which was a damned shame. The man had a body to salivate over. He was a total arse at times, a tease most of the time, but give him credit, he had a great body.
Ignoring the little leap of her pulse, Sophie returned her attention to SJ, smiling as the cat gave her a little lick then bumped his head against her hand. Gently she scratched behind his ears and he burst into loud purrs. “I heard that Sam had adopted him.”
“More like SJ adopted Sam.” Straightening, Alan proceeded to slowly button his shirt. “Met him in the driveway one morning and followed him right into the house, whinging the whole time. Sam, being Sam, gave him the tuna fish from the ‘fridge and SJ has been here ever since.”
“Maybe he belongs to someone?”
“Nah. Sam advertised him but no one came forward.” Alan grinned. “Off to the vet, vaccinated, sterilised, and SJ’s manly wandering days are over. Now he’s a couch potato.”
“What a true man.”
“Oh Soph.” When his tone had her looking back up at him again, Alan shook his head sorrowfully. “You obviously haven’t been around real men.”
“You mean I’ll actually get to meet them sometime?”
“It’s also obvious that you wouldn’t recognise one when you saw him.” He held out his arms and stretched leisurely.
The action tightened his shirt across his chest and she was surprised that the buttons didn’t pop at the swell of his pectoral muscles. “You mean SJ? Oh, I totally recognise him as a real man.”
“Tsk. How can a real man be a sterilised couch potato?”
“You tell me. You’re the expert.” She started to push upright.
Almost immediately Alan was in front of her, his hand coming under her elbow in silent support. When she straightened completely he didn’t shift back and she found herself standing close to him. Too close. The heat from his body seemed to curl languidly into her, seeping through her pores.
“Soph.”
Titling her head back, she looked up into his face. Right into his damned twinkling eyes.
“I’m all man. I’m no couch potato - okay, well, a little - but I’m all man.” He winked. “If you know what I mean.”
Taking a deep breath, which was probably a mistake because hi
s aftershave got sucked right into her lungs and almost clouded her senses completely, Sophie took a couple of seconds to form a reply. By that time, Alan’s lips were twitching and his eyes were dancing devilishly. “You haven’t changed a bit, Alan.”
“You don’t think so?” He moved forward a little more, almost crowding her, but she refused to budge on inch. “I’m taller. More muscly. Have a position of authority.”
“You’re still an arse. Always were, always will be.”
“Position of authority.” Voice dropping, his gaze drifted down to her lips. “You like authoritative men, remember?”
“How would you know?”
“Punishing Laura”. Alan leered a little. “The punisher, lucky bastard, was a soldier.”
She fought hard to maintain coolness. “Is that what you like?”
“Soldiers? Only female ones, though I have a friend who’s a soldier.” Alan tapped his chin thoughtfully. “But he’s not my type. And he’s married. So off the market.”
That wasn’t what she meant and he knew it. Teeth flashing in a wide smile, he suddenly chucked her under the chin. “Oh, you mean am I into punishment?”
“I really don’t care, actually.” Ignoring the way her heart was tripping just a little, she stepped back.
Good grief, maybe she should go to a cardiologist and get that checked out.
“We could write a book together and see.”
“Pardon?”
A gleam in his eyes that didn’t bode well, Alan bent forward. Sophie refused to retreat again, so when he kept bending closer she was more than aware of the heat of his body, his clean, male scent beneath the faint aftershave, his very nearness as his face came closer and closer.
She couldn’t help but gaze at his lips, full yet undeniably male, and wildly she half wondered if he was going to kiss her, he was so damned close. But then he shifted ever so slightly and his cheek brushed against hers, the freshly shaven skin smooth. Her knees went all wobbly as he breathed into her ear, all moist, hot breath.
“We could call it ‘Punishing Sophie’ and the punisher could be a cop. And we could base it on real life.”
Jesus. Her knees almost gave way completely at the mental image that little sentence gave her. The picture that unbidden shot through her mind with heated clarity was of a cop all right, Alan in his uniform, and the heroine who was facing punishment at his hands - his very capable, hot hands - was her.
“Yeah,” Alan breathed into her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin and making her shiver. “I’d really like to research that with you, Soph.”
“I didn’t know you were into kink,” she said a little shakily.
“You have no idea what I’m into.”
This unsettling and rather titillating comment had Sophie floundering for a response, especially as the silence between them lengthened and seemed to grow heavier. She was more than aware of his body bent over her, his nearness, the fact that her breasts were just grazing his shirt, and his mouth - oh God, had he just brushed his lips across the skin just below her ear?
Slowly Alan straightened, his gaze locking onto her wide eyes as he took a step back. She was still staring at him when he grinned and ruffled her hair. “Speechless, Soph? Don’t worry, that’s what happens to all the women I seduce.” Turning on his heel he returned to his room, swinging back around to catch the door and wink. “Because I’m all man.” The door swung shut, cutting him from view.
Leaving Sophie with her mouth hanging open, her nerves jangling, her skin all hot and yes, her lady bits aquiver. Managing to get herself pulled together as she heard Sam’s voice nearing, she scuttled back into her room and sat on the bed, gathering her scattered wits and calming herself. Or trying to.
Good grief. Alan Cooper had always been a tease in school, but good lord, he’d never been so - so - sensuously wicked.
Wickedly sensuous. She rolled her eyes as her heart rate dropped to a more comfortable level. Teasing. The man could tease and he was just giving her as good as she’d given him. It was a good reminder of just how much he could tease and she shouldn’t take him seriously. The Alan Cooper she remembered had always chased the slim girls.
Slim chicks. Oh yeah, that’s right, all women were chicks. That sure made him a strutting rooster. She wondered how much that had changed.
The thought had her smiling a little as Sam entered the room.
“Hey, Soph.”
“Hey, Sam.”
SJ coiled his way lovingly around Sam’s leg, all the while casting Sophie baleful glances.
“I have to go to work tonight.” Leaning against the doorframe in a move reminiscent of Alan earlier, Sam crossed his ankles and dug his hands into the pockets of his baggy shorts. “You going to be all right here alone?”
“Alan going to work too?”
“Nah. He’s got a hot date with some woman he met at the pub.”
“Classy.”
“That’s Alan, all class.” Sam flashed a smile. “So, you going to be all right?”
“Sure. I’ll just hang around and relax, try to win SJ’s heart.”
“You’ll need a tin of tuna, let me give you the tip.” He looked down at the cat sitting at his feet. “Eats like a horse, built like a greyhound.”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t get fat if he’s such a couch potato.”
“You’d think so, but SJ here seems to have a fast metabolism.” He toed the cat’s leg gently. “Two meals a day plus snacks.”
“Spoiled.”
“Nah. You can’t spoil him.”
Sophie raised her eyebrows.
“You can never spoil an ex-stray enough.” Reaching down, Sam tugged on one of SJ’s battered ears.
Purring, the cat angled his chin for a rub and Sam obliged.
“Geez, next thing you know you’ll be taking him to work in a little sling on your back.” Sophie laughed.
“I draw the line,” Sam said.
“Only on the sling.” Alan walked past the door on the way down the passage. “That cat sleeps anywhere he pleases, sits on the kitchen bench and is thoroughly unhygienic.”
“Sort of like you,” Sam replied, “And you don’t hear me complaining.”
“Hey, I don’t lick my balls on the sofa.”
“Says you. I have no idea what you do when I’m not here.”
“I’m not sure if I should sit on the sofa now,” Sophie said.
Alan’s head popped around the corner of the doorway, one eyelid dropping in a slow wink. “Partake of the spoils, Soph. Don’t be shy.”
“Ew.” Geez, did the man have no shame?
Alan’s head disappeared again. “Okay, gotta go. Jess’s waiting for me to pick her up.”
“Have fun.” Sam turned back to Sophie. “Same old Alan.”
“Womanising, insulting and dirty-minded?”
“I was thinking more of womaniser and smart-alec.”
“Hey, you have your description, I have mine.”
“Okay.” Sam straightened. “By the way, some of the ladies around here read your books.”
“Really?” She couldn’t stop the flush of pleasure that never failed to fill her. “Hope they enjoy them.”
“Oh, they do. In fact, they want to meet you.”
“Ah.” Sophie chewed her bottom lip.
“Problem?”
“No.” Yes. Mostly because she wasn’t what fans seemed to think she was, which was…well, nothing like her characters.
“Great. We’re having a BBQ here Saturday night, you’ll meet some of them then.”
“BBQ?” A little alarmed, Sophie chewed her bottom lip a bit faster. Saturday was only two days away. “I brought some signed books for Elsie at the bookshop, I could just meet them there.”
“Nah. Where’s the fun in that? Besides, these are friends. Old friends from school. You can’t treat friends like that.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t - Sam, I’d never embarrass you in front of your friends!”
“Of course yo
u wouldn’t, Soph, I know that.” Grinning, he added, “Their husbands and boyfriends are kind of curious to meet you, too.”
“Ah.” She cleared her throat. Okay, that just had to happen. No doubt they’d read parts of the book. “All wanting to meet the dirty author?”
“All wanting to meet my very talented cousin.”
“They’ll be disappointed.”
“No, they won’t. Just be yourself tomorrow night and you‘ll enjoy it.” Striding across the room, Sam grabbed her arm and hauled her upright, shoving her in front of him. “Now come through into the lounge and I’ll show you how to work the TV and DVD player. And stop fretting.”
“I don’t fret.” Only inside myself, where no one can see me.
“Now feel free to help yourself to the ‘fridge and cupboards for anything to eat, thaw anything out from the freezer, or get takeaway. The menus are with the phone books on the kitchen bench under the phone.” Sam pointed into the kitchen as they passed it.
Sophie was just in time to see Alan check his wallet before he grinned, sent her a cheerful wave and walked through the connecting door into the garage.
She had to admit to a little relief at the fact that she’d have the house to herself for the night. Spending too much time in Alan’s presence was sure to give her the heebie- jeebies, mostly because she’d spend the time wondering when he’d say something wildly inappropriate again and she’d reveal something she shouldn’t before she knew it.
Sam had a huge TV sitting on a cabinet and he went through the controls with her before indicating where the TV guide and remotes sat beside the sofa on a small coffee table. Under a stack of car magazines.
“Geez.” Sophie held up the two remotes. “I’m surprised they work now.”
“They’ve had SJ knocking them to the floor and Alan’s arse sitting on them, and they still work. Tough stuff.” Sam clapped her on the back. “Sure you’ll be all right alone tonight?”
“I’m a big girl, Sam,” Sophie replied wryly. “In more ways than one.”
The Virgin Sex Queen Page 3