by Get Your Guy; Messing Around withMax Tempted - Little Miss Innocent; Annie
“I think you’d better let me go now.”
“Lace?”
“I’m warning you, Daniel.” She could barely get the words out through her stiff lips. “You’re in serious danger of me laying you low.”
He rubbed his hands tiredly over his face, nearly knocking his glasses off, then pressed a fist to his mouth and studied her. He dropped his hands and shrugged. “You’re snapping like a wounded pup, and there’s really no reason. I’m only trying to be honest with you, Lace.”
“Ha!” She wanted to smack him, but held herself in check. Barely. “You’re trying to fit me into the little niche you’ve assigned me. But I have to give you credit, Daniel. You’ve stepped away from the masculine pack, finding your own unique logic to look down your nose at me. You see, like my mother, I’ve known two types of men. Those outside the professional field who see me and immediately decide I’m easy, based on my profession and my damned flamboyant appearance.”
Daniel winced, probably a mixed reaction to her barely repressed outrage and her use of his description said with such contempt. “I didn’t mean…”
She ignored his scowling interruption. “And men within my professional circles totally disregard me as a flake. I’m beneath their exalted notice. My credentials, my experience and accomplishments can’t possibly matter because I’m a young attractive female and everyone just knows young females aren’t to be taken seriously.”
“Lace…”
“But not you, Daniel. Oh, no. You don’t want me sexually, because that would make you as real and alive as the rest of us mere mortals, no better than me.” She felt sick suddenly and groped for the couch, holding on to the padded arm and doing her best to keep her tone level. “At least you don’t deny my intelligence or my influence. No, you think I have so much sway, I’m capable of corrupting your poor little innocent sister!”
“Sit down, Lace.”
“Don’t you tell me what to do!”
“I am telling you, dammit. You’re overreacting and you’re ready to collapse.” Without her permission, he took her arm and lowered her to the cushion. Very quietly, he said, “I didn’t mean to upset you, to start another argument.”
“No? What did you mean then? To explain to me why I lack morals so I could look at you, my benevolent instructor, with heartfelt gratitude for straightening it all out for me in my inferior female brain?”
He growled, twisted his fingers in his hair and tugged. Lace watched, bemused and fascinated.
He stared off toward the tree, and Lace looked, too. The tree looked lovely, though sad. Half finished, without the illumination of the lights, it appeared to be an incomplete project.
The silence dragged out until finally he crouched on the floor beside her. “Look. All I meant was to show you understanding.” His gaze captured hers and refused to let her look away.
“Understanding of my sordid way of life? Save it, Doctor.”
He took her hand and held it tightly when she tried to yank it away. “I’m sorry. I know how badly I hate it when others try to dissect me—which is exactly what you started to do.”
“And you practically snapped my head off!”
“I know. I’m sorry. It stands to reason you wouldn’t like it any better than I do. The times when I was younger, when my father more or less abandoned me, though I hate to call it that…they were awful, lonely and scary and uncertain. I think it was probably the same for you. Only you were alone. At least I had Max—trial that he was, and Annie. And Guy was there, helping out.”
Lace thought it must have been harder on him because he had people who relied on him. She was free to throw herself into her studies, without outside responsibilities to distract her.
His thumb rubbed over her knuckles and her frown faded away. His mouth tilted in a rueful smile. “I wanted to…comfort you, I suppose. Though that seems ridiculous now because you really are an independent, intelligent woman. I don’t suppose you need my comfort.”
She needed it now. And she thought he might need a little, as well. With her free hand, she smoothed his hair away from his forehead. “I’ve enjoyed myself today, Daniel. Except for the arguing, of course. But it seems we can’t be near each other without haggling. Being professional doesn’t automatically endow us with a common ground. And it seems like I no sooner see you than my thoughts start toiling on a way to push your buttons.”
One side of his mouth kicked up in a crooked grin. “You do have a most agile tongue when it comes to putting me in my place.”
“You don’t do so badly yourself.”
He hesitated a moment, then forged onward. “There was something else I wanted to do.”
Her heart began to thump erratically, knocking against her ribs, making her tremble inside and out. She waited for him to lean toward her, to press his mouth against her own. To kiss her…
“I wanted to invite you to my house for Christmas.”
Once again, he’d dumbfounded her. An invitation to spend more time with him was the very last thing she’d anticipated.
“My only excuse for making such a muddle of things is that, well, you confuse my brain, Lace. I think you have since the very first time I saw you.”
Slowly, the smile came, and this time she felt it deep inside herself, making her warm and content. She confused his brain? That sounded like a good thing. “By any chance, is that another compliment?”
He opened his mouth, snapped it shut and frowned. “The invitation is genuine. Now will you say yes and put me out of my misery, or do I need to remain on my knees all night?”
She shooed him away with her hands. “Off your knees. Even us queens can only take so much abject devotion.” When he was standing once again, looking gorgeous and as confused as she felt, one contrary thought after another skittered through her brain. She held her head, then heard herself say, “I’ll come for Christmas. If you’re sure that’s what you want.”
In his most officious tone, he said, “Of course I’m certain. I asked, didn’t I?”
Lace thought he looked very uncertain, but she held her tongue.
Daniel nodded. “Very good. I’m pleased with your verbal restraint. Now sit back and watch while I put the finishing touches on this tree.”
When he plugged in the lights, Lace was so distracted by the beauty of it, the soft glow of a dozen different colors mellowed in the depths of the green tree, she didn’t even notice him tack a piece of mistletoe in the arched doorway leading to her kitchen. Not, that is, until he stood beneath it, dogged resolution darkening his features, a crooked finger beckoning her closer.
CHAPTER FIVE
EVERY MUSCLE in his body pulled tight, including the most vital ones, when Lace slowly, deliberately, came to her feet. He wanted to tease, to claim kissing under mistletoe as a family tradition, which it was, but he was afraid if he tried to speak, he’d only groan. Or maybe confess how much he craved her.
She came nearer and nearer in her injured, halting step, still so feminine, so sweetly sensual with her every movement. She made him want to hold her close, to swear to her nothing would ever hurt her again. He held still until she stood only an inch or two from touching him. Common sense warred with basic need. Need won.
His fingers lifted to her hair. It felt so soft, like Lace herself, and looked so pale he’d often wondered if the shade was real. Finding out would be more fun than his poor afflicted heart could endure. It was also an event greatly anticipated.
He no sooner thought it than he pulled back. His heart wasn’t involved, not in any way, only his groin, only his masculine genes and his libido—which raged with encouragement. He wanted her, a simple, straightforward physical reaction, a circumstance suffered by all men.
Only there was nothing straightforward or simple about Lace McGee, or his reaction to her.
As an adult—a responsible mature adult—there would be nothing wrong in the two of them deciding on a brief affair. Or rather, a long, hot, gritty affair. Getting Lace out of his sys
tem wasn’t going to happen overnight. And he wanted her out. Didn’t he?
Lace stared up at him, one slim eyebrow cocked. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”
So much impatience. He smiled. “I believe I am.” Her mouth looked rosy and ready and anxious. He tightened his thighs and braced himself to keep from throwing her on the couch and showing her just how badly he wanted to kiss her, to eat her alive.
She smirked. “I don’t mean to rush you through whatever masculine ruminations you’re presently pursuing, Daniel, but I do wish you’d hurry up with it. The suspense is about to kill me.”
He laughed, despite the gravity of the situation, despite his now painful arousal. “You have such a way with words.”
“You hate my way with words.”
He shrugged. “You’re starting to grow on me.”
“Moss could grow on you, you move so slowly.”
Chuckling, he asked, “Is that a hint?”
She heaved a huge sigh, and his gaze was drawn to her breasts, loose beneath her clothing. He forced his gaze more northerly, to avoid a loss of control.
“It’s a statement, telling you I’m about to get bored and walk away.”
“We can’t let that happen.” He leaned down, watching her go still and breathless, and he brushed his mouth over hers, teasing himself, barely tasting her when he wanted to taste her so badly. He wanted his tongue in her mouth, their teeth clashing, her body pressed flush against his so he could grind his hardening flesh into her soft belly. He shuddered with the thought and subsequent reaction of his body.
Such a dangerous game, one that could trip him up and leave him flat on his face. For months now he’d been vehemently trying to prove, both to himself and to her, that he didn’t want her. He’d played at being immune when in truth she affected every pore in his body. Even his teeth and toenails ached in need whenever Lace entered the same room as him. Lately, whenever he even thought of her.
But all mankind knew the power of male pride. How could he claim to just change his mind, to give in, without making it look as though he’d been wrong all along? How could he claim to want her sexually without losing his male consequence? He stared down at Lace, pondering the problem.
“Is that it? Is that the best you could do?”
Daniel laughed, but quickly sobered. She was serious. She hadn’t even realized the deliberation of his kiss, the temptation of moving slowly, the finesse involved in teasing so delicately. His awesome style was totally wasted on her. Well, hell. Her brow puckered and her eyes were alert, if a bit disappointed.
Just that quickly, a plan took root, an ingenious way for him to salvage his ego and still have her. He tried to wipe the elation off his face and strove for a look of consternation. “You didn’t like it?”
She gave a rude snort. “I got kissed better than that when I was in first grade.”
“Started young, did you?”
She opened her mouth and he said, “Forget I asked.” Once again, he brushed his mouth against hers, this time making all efforts at a lackluster effect, doing his best to restrain the fierce urge to devour her with his mouth and tongue. “Better?”
“Uh, no. Not really.”
He had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling. “You’re not one much for false flattery, are you?” Before she could answer, he plastered his mouth to hers, keeping his lips closed, barely moving, but damn, she felt good, tasted good, smelled good. He wanted to devour her, to thrust his tongue deep and feel her breasts against his chest, to hear her choppy breathing. To kiss her mouth, her throat, her breasts and her belly.
His heartbeat thundered, reverberating through his body to collect in a single pounding pulse in his groin. He forced himself to pull away before he lost his meager control. Ridiculously, his hands shook.
“Daniel,” she moaned, and her arms went around his neck. For the briefest instant he forgot his new game and held her close, his mouth opening on hers, his tongue touching her bottom lip, the edge of her teeth. She groaned again and he wanted, in that instant, to have her naked, warm and willing, beneath him. He wanted her eager and involved. He wanted to experience firsthand everything she knew and condoned about sexual freedom, and he wanted her to beg him to show her what he knew.
But she was injured and any involved intimacy would have to be put off anyway, so there was really no reason for ruining his plan.
“Do you like your tree?” He spoke in a hushed, husky whisper. Getting the words formed in his muddled brain took nearly all his concentration.
“I love my tree.” She tried to find his mouth again, but he turned his face toward her neck, nuzzling the soft skin there, breathing gently in her ear.
He felt her trembling increase. “Daniel.”
“Time for lunch.” He made the announcement at the same time he eased away from her. Damn she was good. But then, he’d already known that.
He didn’t want to hurt her, her wounded body or her delicate emotions, so he had to move with care.
“Lunch?”
He couldn’t look at her or all would be lost. He held his control by only a snippet of a thread. “You need to eat while taking the pain medication and the antibiotics, and with all you’ve been through, you need to keep up your strength.”
She searched his face and her breath still came too fast. “Of course. Food. I was just about to suggest the very same thing.”
He kept a straight face with much effort. “I’m going to run down and check on the laundry, then I’ll warm everything up. Why don’t you finish your correspondence?”
“I only have a few more letters to see to.” So saying, she slipped on down the hall, her entire countenance dejected.
Daniel could finally grin. He had her now. She cared about the people she helped, that much was plain. He’d watched her frown her way through tough decisions, ponder for long moments her every reply. She took her work as seriously as he took his own.
He rubbed his hands together, anxious to become one of her cases. She already thought him repressed, and heaven knew how chaotic and busy his life had always been, between med school and tending his brother and sister. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he might be sexually inept. Highly unlikely, but not impossible. So he was thirty-five? Age meant nothing. It certainly wasn’t proof that he’d have a wealth of experience at his disposal. And his ego wasn’t so tender that he couldn’t pretend to need help in order to gain Lace’s trust.
He’d always been very discreet, not wanting to set a bad example for Annie. Plus, he’d needed to counteract Max’s lack of discretion. His younger brother seemed to sow more than his fair quota of wild oats. And with his travels, he’d probably sowed oats in more fields all over the country than any three men put together.
No, Lace would find no evidence of his expertise. He’d let her lead him, gently, into intimacy. He’d give her complete control over his body. The mere thought was enough to make him howl with lust.
He was still considering all the finer points of his plan when he hurried back to the door of Lace’s apartment. The laundry basket in his arms all but blocked his vision, and suddenly he bumped into a body coming out of the stairwell.
“Excuse me.” He lowered the basket, took in the stunned, familiar face peering up at him, then immediately tried to raise the basket again.
Annie didn’t let him get away with it. She snatched the basket out of his hands and dropped it on the floor between them. A pair of turquoise panties tumbled out onto the floor, landing on top of Daniel’s shoe. They both stared at them a moment, until Daniel snatched them up and put them back on top of the basket. His sister gaped.
“Dan!” Annie looked from him to the basket and back again. “What in heaven’s name are you doing here?”
With a wry grimace and an inward curse at fate, he waved at the basket. “Laundry.”
LACE WONDERED what was keeping Daniel.
Then she wondered at that kiss. Not that she was any expert on the actuality of
the subject, but something hadn’t seemed quite right. With the way she’d always felt around him, she’d been expecting to be swept off her feet. And in one regard she had. She’d loved the feel of his mouth, the drift of his breath on her cheek, the warmth of his large, strong body so close to her own. Warm, tingly feelings had stirred in her lower belly and her nipples had felt tight, too sensitive. Strangely enough, she’d wanted him to touch them, to touch her.
But he’d seemed…tentative. Unsure. She’d always known Daniel had a hang-up where she was concerned, but she’d never considered his attitude might stem from inexperience. Now she had to reevaluate.
He was simply too gorgeous, too worldly, too…sought after. Somehow she couldn’t imagine a woman looking at him and not wanting him. And somehow she hadn’t thought he’d always refuse.
Well, no one had said he was entirely without experience, but surely, even a little experience would have taught the man how to kiss. And rigid? He’d held himself like a pike, not moving, barely breathing. He sure wasn’t the romancer she’d expected him to be. She felt terrible for teasing him for so long, potentially compounding his problem with sex.
In one regard, she was glad he lacked hands-on confidence. At least it meant he wasn’t a hypocrite.
In another way, the thought of him being inexperienced made her giddy with excitement. She wondered how he would react if she set out to educate him. She thought she could probably manage it with a little luck and a lot of fore-thought. And assisting him could be just the excuse she needed to appease her overwhelming desire.
Having Daniel in her home had changed everything, had shown a different side of him, a more human, considerate, understanding side. She could no longer fight her own natural desires. But she didn’t want to look as if all the antagonism between them hadn’t mattered, and she simply couldn’t concede the contest of wills, not when he’d made such erroneous assumptions about her character.
When she heard a noise at the door, she decided to test him just a bit with a taste of verbal innuendo. She lowered her voice to what she hoped was a sultry, sexy tone, then called out, “Daniel? Is that you, finally? It’s really unfair of you to stir up my appetite and then leave me waiting.” She giggled at her own ridiculous verbiage before adding, “I’m starved!”