Lucky cat.
“I gotta go.” Heading for the door, Holly picked up her shoulder bag and helmet from the kitchen counter. “I’ll see you, Belle.”
“Okay.” Belle followed her to the veranda, waiting as her friend approached the motorbike.
In the act of buckling the chin strap of the motorbike helmet, Holly grinned at her. “Did he rub your belly when he was boinking you?”
“On your bike, Holly. Go home.”
Holly winked. “Have a great weekend with Bad Boy. And I mean have a great weekend.” Straddling the bike, she kicked off the brake and brought the powerful engine to life. “Remember, I want all the details!” With a laugh and a cheerful wave, she throttled the bike and drove out of the driveway before giving it full throttle and roaring off down the street, shattering the quiet with the roar of the engine.
Standing there, Belle was intensely aware that inside was Marty, he had an agenda, and she had no back-up. It was time to face another sexy beast, this one a bad boy on two strong legs.
Just the thought made her heart beat pick up.
Great. Just great.
Taking a deep breath, Belle turned on her heel and went back inside to face the sexy, irritating, egotistical beast who lurked in her kitchen with devious plans in mind.
Chapter 7
Marty was at the kitchen sink getting water from the tap.
“Why didn’t you get some from the ‘fridge?” she queried
“Not my place,” he replied. “I don’t just help myself.”
“Yeah, you do.”
A slow grin curving his firm lips, he ran his gaze down her while turning to lean back against the sink. “Okay. Sometimes.”
He looked entirely too smug. Time to take him down a peg. She waited until he had a mouthful of water. “We had unprotected sex yesterday.”
That got a reaction, all right. Water spurted from his mouth and he coughed and gagged. Turning quickly, he dropped the glass into the drainer and covered his mouth as he continued to cough and choke.
Satisfied, Belle walked around the counter, plucked a clean tea towel from the rack and handed it to him. Eyes watering, he took it from her and wiped his face, still coughing. Settling back against the counter beside him, she plucked the card from her pocket and tapped it against her palm while watching him without an ounce of guilt.
When he was finally able to draw breath, he faced her with the tea towel clenched in one fist. “My mother will kill me.”
Belle’s mouth fell open in horrified disbelief. “You’d tell her?”
“No. But if we had a child out of wedlock, she’d kill me.”
“This isn’t the dark ages, Marty.”
“No, but my parents have set beliefs.” His gaze met hers squarely. “And so do I.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I don’t father children I have no intention of being around for.”
“Really.”
“Really. For me, children mean marriage.”
Okay, this was surprising. Not unheard of, but…well, what did she really know about it anyway?
“And if the mother didn’t want me, I’d still be around for my child.” Marty’s gaze dropped to her stomach. “So if you get pregnant-”
“Cripes, I’m not going to get pregnant!”
“We don’t know-”
“I know. I know.” Belle tossed the card onto the counter. “I had the injection.”
“Injection?”
“Instead of taking the pill daily. When I decided to - you know - with Trevor, I had the injection.” When Marty just looked at her, Belle lifted her chin. “It lasts awhile. In fact, it lasted a whole hell of a lot longer than my relationship did with that two-timing, cheating bastard, and it’s still lasting, okay? No kids.”
“Okay.” He nodded, visibly relaxing. “I’m clean.”
Crap. She hadn’t thought about that. “Great. I’ve got your word for it.”
“Want a letter from my doctor? I’ll ring him right now. You can even talk to him.” Marty reached for the phone.
Good God. The man was serious. “No. I believe you.” And she did. If he was serious enough to ring his doctor for her peace of mind, to prove it, then he had to be telling the truth.
He studied her with one raised eyebrow.
She flushed. “I’m healthy.”
“Trevor was a known male slut.”
“Male slut?”
“My sister’s term.” He eyed Belle again.
Belle folded her arms and straightened her spine. “We always used condoms.”
“Hmmmm.”
“Want me to ring my doctor?”
“Yep.”
She was speechless.
Marty started laughing.
“You - you - you arsehole!” She threw the card down onto the counter. “How dare you-” The rest of her words were muffled by his chest when his arms wrapped around her and he drew her to him, his laughter filling the kitchen.
Bracing her hands on his chest, she tried to push out of his arms, but he simply held on and rocked her side to side, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as he continued to laugh.
With a sigh she stopped shoving and leaned against him. To be truthful, she wasn’t strong enough to fight him, and when surrounded by his lethal zone she struggled to hold onto her anger and really only wanted to wallow in his combined scent of man and soap.
God help her, being around Marty Lawson was turning her into a mindless tramp.
Okay, the anger was gone, but the annoyance remained. At least until a big hand started to rub her back soothingly. Mmmmm, delicious.
“Oh honey, I believe you. That rat Trevor was always bragging about his control.”
“Unlike you.”
“Hey, I have control.”
“You didn’t yesterday.”
There was silence for several seconds. “Okay. One time.”
“Huh.”
“One time.” Wrapping long fingers around her upper arms, Marty pushed her back enough so that he could look down into her eyes. “I swear, Belle, you were the only time.”
“Sure.”
Those brilliant blue eyes never shifted. “I can’t prove it.”
“No, you can’t.”
“You’ll have to take my word for it.”
“I don’t have to take your word for anything.”
“I guess you don’t,” he said slowly, releasing her.
Not wanting to acknowledge how much she felt the loss of his body, Belle backed out of his lethal zone, only his lethal zone was far-reaching and she swore she could feel those tendrils lazily twining around her, trying to draw her back against him.
Or maybe that was her new tramp side responding.
Blowing out a breath, she stopped at the end of the counter and eyed him, wondering what was going to happen now.
Angling his head to one side, Marty studied the card on the counter before picking it up and looking at her.
Automatically, she glanced at the orchids. “Ummm…thanks for the flowers.”
“You like them?” He fingered the card.
“They’re beautiful.” When he said nothing more and the silence lengthened between them, she cleared her throat. “So…”
He continued to just look at her, the expression on his handsome face unreadable. How the hell he could stroke a bloody card and somehow make her feel like it was a poor substitute for her skin, she’d never know.
Uncomfortable, she tapped her fingers against her thigh. “Do you really want to sight-see?”
“Depends what I’m seeing.” His gaze trailed down her body and back up again, and this time there was a definite hot gleam in his eyes.
“Sexual harassment, Mr Lawson, is frowned upon.”
“I’m only looking.”
“Like I said.”
“You look.”
“No I don’t.”
“Well, you can look now.” He spread his arms wide. “I’ve no problems with it.”<
br />
The discomfort vanished and she had to fight the sudden urge to laugh. Instead, she frowned. “You really have no shame, do you?”
“Just telling it like it is, honey.” Grin turning devilish, he plucked at the hem of his t-shirt. “Tell me when to stop.”
“What?” When he started to lift his shirt, she yelled, “Stop!”
“Really? So soon?”
“Yes.” Shaking her head, she reached for the car keys on the hook. “You really need to get over yourself, Marty. Now do you want to go sight-seeing or not?”
“You’re going to remove your top? Sure.”
“No.” Mentally fanning herself, she jingled the keys. “To look around town. That kind of sight-seeing.”
“I think my kind is more fun.”
With a sigh, she grabbed her shoulder bag and walked to the back door, ensuring it was locked before returning to the front door where Marty was now waiting. Opening the front door for her, he waited until she’d walked past him before holding out his hand for the keys.
“Go to the car,” she said.
“My brother always gets the key of the house. He does this whole manly, old fashioned thing and-”
“The car, Marty.”
“It won over Harly.” Hands in his pockets, he wandered off the veranda and over to where her car was parked. Bending down, he peered through the window. “It’s kinda small.”
“Tough. You pushed your way into my mother’s good books and caused this whole sight-seeing fiasco, so now you can suffer.” In the act of unlocking the driver’s door, she glanced over the top of the car to find Marty watching her with an unrepentant grin. “You just remember that when you get cramp in your long legs.”
He just grinned wider, ducking to get into the car when she unlocked his door, folding his tall, muscular body into the seat and settling back with all the air of a contented man.
Shaking her head, Belle started the car, backed out of the driveway and pulled onto the street. She hadn’t even put the car into first gear before he was fiddling with the radio. Not having any objections because she liked music when she drove, Belle didn’t say anything until he switched to an opera channel. “Are you kidding me?”
He laughed and switched it back to the light pop station to which she always listened.
“You are seriously touched,” she muttered.
“Huh. That’s what Alex and Cindy always say.” Winding down the window, he breathed in the air, unbothered by the fact that the wind ruffled his hair. “Where are we going?”
“I’m afraid the strip joint is shut right now.”
“What a shame.”
“How about the museum?”
“Hmmm. How about we park and neck?”
“Museum it is.”
The museum only had a few people in it. Brody, who was manning the entrance, smiled at Belle before she caught sight of Marty, her eyes widening appreciatively. “Hi,” she said, all but climbing the counter in her bid to lean forward and hold out her hand. “I’m Brody, Belle’s friend.”
Smiling easily, Marty shook her hand and said, “I’m Marty, Belle’s boyfriend,” before wandering off to wait for her near the entry to the shipwreck room.
Brody’s mouth fell open.
That was nothing. Belle’s jaw nearly hit the floor.
“Boyfriend?” Brody stared at her. “He’s your boyfriend?”
She was going to kill him. Slowly. “No. he - uh, he’s kidding and-”
Marty chose that moment to look over and drop her a slow, sexy wink.
Flustered, Belle barely restrained herself from snatching the visitors guide from Brody’s hand. Swinging on her heel, she hurried over to Marty’s side, but before she could say anything he took her hand and wandered into the shipwreck room, towing her behind him.
“Stop it,” she hissed when he halted before a display.
“Mmm?” His thumb stroked lazily over her hand.
Oh God, her knees were going to go weak. This was a bad idea but she couldn’t jerk her hand away, not when there were several couples in the room who glanced at them and smiled, and certainly not with Brody peering around the door. All she could do was fix a smile on her face and squeeze Marty’s hand in warning.
When he simply squeezed her hand back in turn, a very gentle yet firm squeeze, she was lucky her knees didn’t give out on the spot. That combined with his thumb stroking her skin, his lethal zone pulling her in, and the pleasant - very pleasant - sensation of just having her hand held, was enough to make her decide to hell with it, she’d go along with his devious move and wait until they were outside before she blasted him verbally.
Meanwhile, she’d enjoy it.
Yes, she admitted to herself, I said that. Enjoy it. Throwing caution to the wind for the first time in her life, she shifted closer and gave herself up to the moment.
She didn’t even remember any of the exhibits. Marty seemed quite content to meander along clasping her hand in his, his free hand in his jeans pocket, stopping now and again to peer at exhibits and read the notices. Before she knew it, they were outside walking to the car, her hand still in his.
Still caught up in a pleasant haze, she automatically handed the car keys to him and watched as he unlocked the car. He held the door open for her and she slid into the driver’s seat. He slid the key into the ignition, dropped a quick kiss onto her lips, straightened, closed the door firmly and strode around the car to open the passenger door and fold himself into the seat, snapping the seat belt into place before winding down the window and leaning his arm on it, watching in quiet contentment as the world passed by on the other side of the windscreen.
Belle didn’t quite know what to say or do. He made no reference to their hand holding, no reference to the kiss, nothing. And she didn’t know what the hell to think. He wasn’t coming on strong, he -
“What the hell?” She looked at him. “My boyfriend? You told Brody you were my boyfriend?”
In seemingly innocence, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“What - forget it.” Twisting the key in the ignition, Belle tried to gather her frazzled nerves and thoughts into a semblance of order. “Just forget it.”
“Okay,” he replied agreeably. “Where now?”
“Where do you want to go?”
There was nothing innocent in the way his gaze slid down her body.
“No,” Belle said.
“Then you choose. You’re the guide, after all.” He practically melted back into the seat in lazy contentment.
Those were the words to describe him right then, lazy contentment. He practically oozed lazy contentment. Combined with his naturally sexy appeal, it was just as lethal a combination as when he was being dangerously sexy, because now Belle could imagine him all lazy and content after a hot lovemaking session and- “God.”
“We’re going to look at churches? Nice.”
“No. I mean - I need a drink.”
“Great idea.”
Pulling back out onto the road, Belle drove to the nearest café, pulling up out front and switching off the engine. “What do you want?”
“Seriously?” He eyed her lazily, his eyes glinting. “You don’t know?”
She wasn’t even flushing anymore, so that showed just how immune she was becoming to his dirty hints. Pleased with herself, she opened the car door. “I mean to drink.”
“Iced coffee.”
“Fine. I’ll be back in a minute.” She hopped out of the car.
Marty leaned towards the driver’s side and looked up at her. “You don’t want me to come inside with you?” Laughter echoed in his tone.
She pointed a finger at him. “Stay.”
“I love it when you get tough, honey.”
She had to bite off the sudden urge to laugh. He was playing with her, she had to remember that, and if she let him into the café with her, he’d only have a joke at her expense.
/> Or she’d jump his bones behind the booth.
Geez, his perverted humour was rubbing off on her.
Reaching the counter, Belle waited until the man ahead of her finished ordering before asking the teenage boy serving for the drinks. After paying, she turned to leave and was halfway across the café when she was hailed from one of the tables. With a silent groan she realised it was some of the garden club members, and it was Mrs Harris who was waving to her.
“Yoo hoo! Belle!”
“Hi, Mrs Harris,” she replied quickly, but her efforts to continue walking to the door without another word were foiled by Mrs Harris calling, “Come here!”
It all came crashing back, the photo in the newspaper, her declaration of virginity lost, and she felt like a complete fool.
That was until Mrs Harris grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto a chair that another lady whisked out.
“My dear,” Mrs Harris said, “You are such a brave woman!”
Confused, Belle blinked. “I am?”
“Yes.” Mrs Morrison nodded, her white curls bobbing around her face. “Facing up to that cad. That took a lot of nerve.”
“Wish I’d done that when I was young,” Mrs Baxter added. “Of course it wasn’t the done thing then, to admit to losing one’s…you know…” She peered around before whispering, “Virginity.”
Belle blushed.
“That cheating swine,” Mrs Morrison said indignantly. “Thought he’d get away with it, but you showed him, Belle.”
“You surely did.” Mrs Harris patted her arm. “We’re proud of you.”
“You are?” Belle blinked.
“We are.”
They all nodded.
“Well, thank you.” Completely bamboozled, Belle glanced around, her gaze falling on Marty where he waited in the car. “Oh, I have to go. I have someone waiting for me.”
That announcement had all three ladies turning to peer out the window.
Marty waved to them and blew Belle a kiss.
Belle went bright red. She was going to kill him!
“Ooohh.” Mrs Harris simpered. “Belle, you do know how to catch the good-lookers.”
“Just be gentle with him,” Mrs Morrison advised.
Be gentle with Marty Lawson? If they knew him as she did, they’d be cautioning her against him, not the other way around.
The Lawson Boys: Marty Page 18