by Vivian Arend
The sun shone through the stained glass window above the front door and hit the wall she leaned against, the heat and color lulling her eyes closed. She was in the midst of a lovely fantasy involving Ryan and her checking out the springs on her bed when a gentle cough startled her. She jolted upright, stumbled on the tangle beneath her and fell.
Ryan caught her, lifted her away from the rubble and carefully placed her feet on the floor. Every inch of her body burned where they touched. Solid chest muscles teased her palms, the beat of his heart under her hands. He felt even better in real life than in her fantasies, and she clung to him for a moment while the blood settled in her brain.
Searing heat covered her face. Daydreams were one thing, molesting the man was another. She jerked her hands back and would have stumbled again if he hadn’t continued to support her.
“You’ve been burning the candle at both ends, haven’t you?” His voice soothed her taut nerves and Maxine fought the urge to nestle closer into his embrace. “I shouldn’t have startled you like that.” Slowly, as if making sure she would remain standing, he released her, one hand accidentally stroking the side of her body. A tingle shot straight to her core. Oh my goodness, he was a dangerous man.
She straightened and shook her head like she was waking. His eyes shone at her and his smile rocked her. Think, Max, you do know how to speak. “It’s been tough between getting repairs done here and the job and there’s the new baby at my brother’s so…” She smiled ruefully. “Sorry for sleeping on the job. What do you need to look at next?”
Ryan’s gaze trickled over her and her body reacted like she’d been hit with an electric shock. She sent up a prayer of thanks for her lined bra that hid how much a simple glance from him affected her. Fortunately, he turned away to stand at the bottom of the stairs.
“Upper floor and attic. I’ll have a crew come do the detailed measurements we need, I just want to see what kind of access we’re looking at for the higher levels. Then I’d like to walk the perimeter of the building.”
She led the way up the wide, curved stairwell, pausing at the upper landing to open the doors to the side rooms. “There’s way more space in this house than one person needs. In its heyday there were twelve family members and a passel of servants under this roof.”
“There are servant quarters in the residence?”
She nodded. “The attic level has a few. There used to be a caretaker’s home on the land as well. It was rented out until someone got careless with the gas stove and burned it down a few years ago.”
He entered the first room and left her alone on the landing. Max sagged against the nearest wall and let out the breath she’d held. Holy crap, her libido was in overdrive or something because being near the man made her wet. She needed to cool off. She scooted down the hall to the bathroom to take a long drink of water and splash her face.
Lifting her gaze to the mirror, she realized it was no use. The attraction she felt and the effect on her body would be damn hard to hide from his perceptive gaze. Her pale skin was flushed red with desire.
She blew an exasperated puff of air that lifted her bangs from her forehead. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a bad thing at all. He was a grown-up. She was a grown-up. Maybe he would be interested in getting to know her a little better. That is, if he felt anything like she did.
Oh hell, she hoped so.
Ryan took the corner into the room faster than he should have and clutched his papers to stop them from flying from his fingers. Climbing the stairs behind the delectable Ms. Turner and her shapely ass gave him a massive hard-on he’d hidden behind his notepad like some teenager in high school.
The scent of her perfume lingered in the air, and he fought to stop the growl of need that rose in the pit of his stomach, and lower. Watching her in the sunlight, he’d been captivated by the warmth of her skin, the expression on her face as she momentarily shed the strain of worry haunting her since the first time they’d met. He longed to pull her back into his arms and drag his fingers through her sunlit hair, cup her to his body to consume her lips at his leisure.
Fuck, forget the lips, he wanted to consume her. Every scrumptious, voluptuous inch of her.
He dropped the notepad on the wide window ledge and braced his hands on either side. Pushing aside his body’s urging to go find Ms. Turner and demand a far more personal inspection than she had requested, he stared out the window and concentrated on the job at hand.
The house was massive, and the yard on either side opened to vast wooded forest. The back faced a small lake according to the paperwork he’d checked at the surveyor’s office. Forty plus acres of land surrounded the house that was one step shy of a heritage home, luckily for Ms. Turner. Having to do the restorations to heritage-home standards could be a pocket breaker, even kicking in insurance money.
Finally distracted enough to ignore his still-throbbing cock, Ryan worked his way through the first rooms of the upper floor. It was difficult to see any signs of water damage. Max’s repair crew were fantastic, although he was surprised they weren’t hard at it this afternoon.
By the time he reconnected with Maxine, things were under control. Things that needed to stay under control, at least until he decided what to do about his attraction to the woman.
“How come there are no finishers working today?” he asked when Maxine met him in the hall outside an ornate door.
“The owner of the crew is a family friend. He got a call for an urgent fix from a regular client. Since he’s doing me a favor working me into his schedule I’m not going to complain about him pausing this job. It’s tough to get good workers. I’ll live with the mess until they find the time to come back.”
Ryan frowned. “I thought you were living at your brother’s?”
She shrugged. “Until this weekend. The house was supposed to be completed this week and I made arrangements to leave. It’s a little…awkward staying with Junior, what with the new baby and friends always visiting.”
That explained the tiredness. In spades. “You’re moving back in already?”
“Most of the house is livable again. It makes sense.” She led him into the next room and gestured. “The renovations in the master bathroom were completed before the damage occurred. In fact, the new drains they installed in there dealt with the excess water and all that had to be done was mop the floor.”
Ryan strode through the door and his limbs involuntarily froze. The largest bed he’d seen in his entire life occupied the center of the far wall. Pillows were piled high at the headboard and thick corner posts supported a heavy canopy. The curtains at the tall windows to the right hung wide open and sunbeams fell on the quilt-covered monstrosity.
All he could see was the image of Maxine Turner spread for his pleasure, light reflecting off her skin as she waited, naked, on the satin sheets. He shook his head to clear his lust-filled fantasies and followed Max’s hips into the bathroom. An antique claw-footed tub twice the size of a regular tub sat opposite a glass shower enclosure covering an entire wall. The buzzing in his ears grew loud enough to drown out whatever she continued to tell him and suddenly it was imperative he get the fuck out of the room.
Before she found herself on her bed with her legs over his shoulders.
“Where is the access to the attic rooms?” he asked abruptly, interrupting her.
Maxine jumped at his tone and drew in a quick breath. Her gaze darted past him and he knew she was looking at that bed. She immediately flushed red, swallowing hard before guiding him from the room. When she would have led him up the stairs he held up a hand.
“I’ll go look around myself. You don’t need to stick around.” God knows if he could stand watching her ass for one more second without pouncing on her.
Max nodded, stumbling backward. “I’ll go make some…ice tea. When you’re done, join me in the kitchen and we can have a drink before I show you outside.” She barely waited for his acknowledgement before fleeing.
He adjusted his raging
The third floor contained typical small servant rooms from the turn of the century with an additional microscopic bathroom. The only item of real interest was the attic crawlspace, filled with boxes and baskets and trunks. The usual assortment of generations of treasures and trash, all mixed together.
While he wandered, Ryan debated the wisdom of getting involved in a physical relationship with Maxine. Oh hell, his body had no qualms, it was his head that doubted the merit of the idea. Since his brother’s care had been thrust upon him, it seemed his personal time was nonexistent. Maxine didn’t seem the type for casual sex, no matter how good her legs would feel wrapped around him. By the time he approached the kitchen, he had it all figured out. The logical thing was to keep his hands off her and make sure this stayed a purely business relationship. He opened the door to the back section of the house and Maxine’s seductive perfume with its trace of apple blossoms assaulted him. His entire body tightened with need and his blood roared through him.
Fucking logic. He would kill for a taste of her right now.
Chapter Three
Sunlight flooded the kitchen. Solid oak cabinetry lined the near walls while at the far end of the room a massive dining table filled the open space. Earth-tone tiles covered the floor and the whole space screamed comfort. A pitcher of tea and a couple of glasses of ice waited on the island but Maxine was nowhere to be seen. Ryan strode toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and stared through the French doors at the pond visible across the expanse of green lawn bordering the deck.
A muffled curse reached his ears and Ryan swung around, searching for the source. Where in the devil had Max disappeared to? A crash sounded from behind a door in the corner of the kitchen. Ryan yanked it open to find Maxine struggling under the weight of a dislodged shelf. The rest of the pantry goods on it were perilously close to joining a broken jam jar on the floor.
“Damn it, why didn’t you call for help?” Ryan asked as he reached around her to grasp the shelf. He took the weight and she sighed in relief, dropping her arms to her sides for a moment before grabbing at the loose goods and transferring them to another shelf. Ryan clenched his teeth as her ass rubbed his groin and reawakened his cock.
“I did call.” Her voice was gravelly and rough. “For a while. You must have been too far away to hear me.”
“Don’t talk until you get a drink.” The shelf grew lighter as she removed the cans and jars, and Ryan lowered it to waist height and placed it to the side. Maxine remained trapped within the circle of his arms and she eased back, her head on his shoulder.
“Sorry. Need to rest for a minute,” she croaked.
Ryan let her lean on him, massaging her arms to bring back the circulation. This wasn’t how he’d imagined getting to hold her, but who in the hell cared? She was soft and warm, and damn it all, she smelled wonderful. He fought the urge to take advantage of the opportunity and stroke her torso more intimately. Cup her breasts and see if they really would overflow his hands like he’d pictured. A little groaning noise slipped from her lips and he envisioned her under him making those sounds, and his cock hardened even more. Shit, he had to get his mind on other things.
She shifted position and her butt cheek brushed his zipper. His dick jerked in response. Fuck. If he didn’t get some control fast, he was going to explode.
He forced himself to concentrate. “How long were you standing there?”
“Too long.”
She melted against him. Holy shit, there was no way he could survive much more of this. Looking around for a distraction, he spotted the shelf hooks still hanging precariously from the wall. The support screws seemed to have ripped clean out of all six holes at the same time.
Maxine shifted her feet slightly and something crunched.
“Shit. Gramma’s jelly.”
Ryan looked down to see dark purple spreading at their feet, sharp shards of glass poking through the gooey mass. He glanced at the thin-soled slippers she wore.
“Don’t move, I’ll take care of it.” Her cry of surprise rang in his ear as he lifted her, and she whipped her arms out and clung to his neck. The tantalizing sensation of her breasts pressed tight against him made his mouth water, but he ignored the temptation. He stepped to the edge of the pantry, pausing to kick off his shoes before walking to the island and depositing her carefully on the countertop.
“Ryan, I—”
“Sit and relax for a minute. The floor looks freshly tiled and grouted in here, and we don’t want to get Gramma’s jelly all over it. Right?”
She wrinkled her nose at him and nodded.
“Good. Drink this.” He poured her a glass full of tea. “And take it easy while I dump the evidence.” He poured himself a glass and raised it in a toast before chugging it down and retreating to the pantry with the garbage pail.
He needed the drink to cool himself off. The feel of her in his arms, the scent of her body, both drove his simmering desire for her up to a boil. Everything about Maxine attracted him, especially her bullheaded stubbornness in refusing to simply let the shelf fall to the floor.
He dropped the glass pieces into the pail carefully before scooping up the jelly and wiping everything with the wet dishcloth Maxine threw him. He watched her clandestinely through the open door. She pulled off her slippers and deposited them in the sink, her long limbs twisting. Her shirt rode up and glimpses of her bare belly teased him as she wiggled her way around. Ryan took a deep breath and beat down the violent need he felt to lick her skin, starting at her belly button. Damn, he hadn’t been this horny since he was a teenager.
She peered in at him. “Almost done?”
“It’s clean. I’ll check the rest of the shelves while I’m in here.” He held the pail out to her. God help him, maybe a little normal activity would break his train of thought. Anything to keep from heading into no man’s land.
“You don’t need to do that. I just bumped it too hard or something.”
“It’s part of the inspection.” When a confused expression crossed her face, he winked. “I’ve got to check you don’t have any items past their expiration date. They’re a high security risk.”
She laughed and accepted the pail, grabbing his shoes from the floor. “Then I’ll clean these for you.”
They each turned to their tasks. Ryan picked the screws off the floor and compared them to the ones still intact. It looked as if someone had exchanged every screw on the faulty shelf with a slightly smaller size. He took his time to make sure the rest of the room was secure, tucking the remainder of the jelly jars into a solid corner cupboard before rejoining Max in the kitchen. She handed him his shoes solemnly.
“Am I safe? No rancid flour or dangerous canned beets about to make a break for it?”
Ryan shook his head. “Did anyone work in the pantry when they did the floors?”
She frowned. “They weren’t supposed to. Is something wrong?”
He smiled to reassure her. “No, the rest of the shelves are good and sturdy. The one that fell can be fixed easily as well.” Maxine stared at him strangely. “What?”
She reached forward and brushed her fingers down his cheek, drawing them back to show him bright purple. The touch of her hand set the alarms ringing through his body again.
“You’re wearing war paint,” she murmured.
Ryan couldn’t stop himself. It was too much to resist. He circled her wrist with his fingers and tugged her hand toward him. Watching carefully for any sign she wanted him to stop, he brought her sticky fingers to his lips and licked them clean. Heat sparked between them and he leaned closer until their mouths were mere inches apart.
“It’s very good jelly. I’d hate to let it go to waste.”
She nodded seriously, breathlessly, then closed the distance between them and their mouths touched.
Ryan’s mouth brushed hers. The air around them filled with the heady scent of the man standing before her. He gently cradled her head as their lips caressed, a barely-there movement that sent a shiver up her spine and longing down to her toes. His tongue begged for entrance and she opened her mouth, letting the enticing strokes of his lips and teeth melt her limited defenses.
Low moans rose involuntarily to her lips as his body trapped her against the island. Rock-solid muscle pressed into her, his heat scalding nerves and firing synapses of pleasure deep within her core.
He supported her head with both hands as he took the kiss deeper, stroking with his tongue and exploring every inch of her mouth. When her hair tumbled around his fingers, he clasped a handful, tugging gently until he exposed her neck, his mouth descending on the pulse point she felt throbbing just under the skin.
Maxine groaned with need, her hands clutching at his shoulders, holding him, wanting him to continue but afraid of how quickly her desires grew. She wanted to drag him upstairs to her bed and spend the rest of the day exploring his body. Letting him explore hers. Ryan rasped his teeth along her neck and she shook with delight. Forget making it to the bed, she was willing to let him take her right there on the kitchen floor.
No one had ever made her feel this way before.
She felt wanton and sensual, a goddess being worshipped, as he kissed his way back up her neckline to nuzzle the sensitive spot under her ear. Heat from his mouth spread over her whole body until she was red hot, limbs shaking. Returning to her lips, Ryan kissed her savagely, then eased off, soothing the nips he’d just given, lapping at the corner of her mouth with butterfly soft strokes of his tongue.
One final gentle press and he pulled away to stare deep into her eyes.
His were dark and smoky with desire and she leaned forward, without thinking, to offer herself again, to return to his intoxicating embrace. He pulled back a little more, lifting his thumb to stroke her swollen lips.
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