Kissing Joe was insane. Much as she wanted him, she had to end it. She didn’t believe in going to bed with someone she didn’t know well, didn’t love. They’d only kissed but she knew where kisses like that would lead. Her body might be ready for bed with Joe but her heart wasn’t.
How would she explain that to Joe without sounding like a prissy schoolgirl?
He was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. “Mitchell okay?”
“Fine,” she said. “He was just—”
Joe didn’t give her time for explanations. He pulled her back into his arms to take up where he’d left off.
Her instinctive reaction was to sink back into his embrace, to enjoy his closeness, the feel of his mouth on hers. But she fought the urgent demands of her body and tried to pull away from his kiss. He tightened his hold on her, nuzzling her, caressing her, his hands roaming over her back.
“Stop!” She could scarcely get the word out. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“It feels like a good idea to me.” His hand slid further up her back and under the back of her bra.
He wasn’t...he couldn’t be...but how she wanted him to... This was almost more than she could bear.
“No!” she said again, and wrenched herself right away from him. Her breath was coming in soft panting gasps and it was difficult to force the words out. “You’re Mitchell’s nanny.”
Her lips were still moist and burning from his kiss, the strength and hardness of his body still imprinted on the soft, female curves of her body.
Joe laughed—a strained kind of laugh as his breathing was harsh and ragged. “No kissing in the kitchen. That’s the rule is it, boss lady?”
“Th…that’s right,” she managed to get out, refusing to give in to the thought that the bedroom would be better. She was still on fire for him, her pulse racing and her face flushed.
But he hadn’t finished. Joe pulled her to him again with one hand, then tilted her chin up with the other, so she was forced to face him.
“I don’t care I’m Mitchell’s nanny and you’re the boss lady,” he said in a voice that wasn’t quite steady. “I want to kiss you and you want to kiss me. But you’re right. It isn’t a good idea. This…this has broken my rules, too.”
“What rules?”
“Never to get involved with my employer. But you’re making it damn hard for me to remember why I made those rules.”
Her heart thudded at still being so close to him. One part of her—the untamed, impulsive part she’d never given in to—wanted him to kiss away her protests, to reassure her that kissing him was a fantastic idea.
His eyes were deep and shadowed and he kissed her again, a swift hard pressure on her mouth, before he drew away from her.
“But I’m not going to hang around to prove how noble I can be,” he said, tearing the dishtowel from his waist. “I’m out of here.”
With a swift turn, he headed for the living room. She noted how gracefully he moved for one so big, his powerful muscles flexing under the cotton-knit fabric of his T-shirt and the worn denim of his jeans.
This pair was torn just below his tight, rounded butt. Just a slight tear, he mightn’t even have noticed it. But it gave her a tantalizing glimpse of bare, tanned flesh.
Allison had to take a deep breath as her heart thudded out of control. She would only have to follow him, put her arms around him, press her body to his and they would make love.
More than she had thought possible, she wanted that. But she was too scared to take the risk of casual sex with Joe. She’d hate herself in the morning when she’d denied her principles for a sexual thrill with someone she couldn’t imagine ever being a permanent part of her life.
She followed him to where he was picking up his jacket. She felt awkward, unsure of what to say, wanting him to go and at the same time wanting him to stay.
Joe berated himself for having made a move on Allison. He grabbed his leather jacket. Hadn’t he told himself he didn’t want to hurt her by starting something that couldn’t lead anywhere? Then he’d leaped on her in the kitchen—in the kitchen of all places—and would have had her over the countertop if she’d let him.
When that intercom had sounded he’d thought he’d explode with frustration. Fond as he was of Mitchell, he cursed the little guy’s timing. Allison had wanted him as much as he’d wanted her and knowing that had made him burn for her. She was magic. The hottest, sexiest woman he’d ever known.
He couldn’t hang around here looking at her, not able to have her, and getting angrier with himself for having broken his self-imposed rules.
He shrugged on his leather jacket and then turned, to see Allison watching him. Her hair tumbled around her face, her mouth swollen from his kisses, her eyes vulnerable and confused. It took every ounce of will power he had not to pull her to him and kiss her into bed; get her so excited she’d forget her misgivings. But that wouldn’t make it any more right than it was. It was better this way; he could face her next day knowing he wasn’t guilty of hurting her.
He picked up his helmet. “I’m off,” he said.
Was that disappointment that flashed across her face? Did she think he was superhuman? He’d said he’d stay until seven o’clock, but he couldn’t endure hanging around chatting and unable to touch her.
“Thanks,” she said in a shaky voice, “thanks for everything, Joe.”
Hey! This sounded like the big kiss-off. Tonight was only Wednesday. He still had two days to go of his contract. And he was counting on seeing her again. His thoughts ran wildly on another tangent. After Friday she wouldn’t be his boss anymore. The rules wouldn’t apply.
But that didn’t stop her being a single mom looking for something steady, while relationships without strings were still very much on his agenda.
“What do you mean, ‘thanks for everything’? I’ll be back in the morning,” he said, more abruptly than he’d intended.
He couldn’t stop looking at her breasts, so firm and rounded under her tight top.
At his words, hurt flashed across Allison’s face. He wasn’t handling this so well.
“I meant for all your help today,” she said. “I didn’t tell you—we got the deal.”
Joe was genuinely pleased for her. “Hey, that’s great!” He would have given her a hug but he didn’t trust himself. Hug her here and the sofa was only a couple of steps away...
“It’s signed, sealed and delivered,” she said with pride.
“So why aren’t you out celebrating?” he asked.
“No babysitter,” she said simply.
Instead she was staying at home with his spaghetti sauce. Too bad. It wasn’t his place to take her out to dinner, then dancing—slow, sensuous dancing—then... Damn. Every thought about Allison Bradley led to the bedroom. This was torture standing here talking to her, looking but not touching. He had to leave.
“I couldn’t have stayed to look after Mitchell. I’ve got band practice,” he said bluntly. He started to move toward the door.
“What about babysitting Friday night? That’s when I’m celebrating.”
Jealousy surged through him. “Who with?” he blurted out.
“My boss, Clive.”
Her boss. Joe wound the strap of his helmet around his fingers so tightly it hurt. He untwisted it, but still felt twisted with jealousy inside. Feeling like this was crazy. He couldn’t offer her anything; she could go out with any man she wanted.
He had to look like he didn’t care. “My sister Wendy could probably babysit for you.”
“Your sister? So your family is kind of ‘Babysitters Inc’ is it?” she said with a smile.
“Wendy’s a student. But she’s used to looking after our baby sister—Lissa’s three now.”
“You’re twenty-seven and you’ve got a baby sister?”
Joe was anxious to go so he made his explanation brief. “My cousin got pregnant when she was fifteen. Mom and Dad took the baby in.”
Allison looked astounded at
his tale—he took his parents’ generosity for granted.
“Did they—?”
He wasn’t hanging around to discuss his family situation. The impulse to kiss her wasn’t getting any easier to fight.
“I’ll get Wendy to call you,” he said, as he picked up his guitar and headed for the door.
Allison found it difficult to get to sleep that night—she couldn’t stop thinking about Joe. Not just how sexually attractive she found him—but also about how different his experience of family was to hers. He’d obviously grown up in a happy, loving family—that’s where he must get his confidence and strength of character. His parents sounded like wonderful people. She couldn’t believe what they’d done for his cousin.
If only her own mother had met with such kindness and acceptance from her family when she’d found herself pregnant as a teenager. How different Allison’s life might have been.
No wonder Joe was such a decent guy himself. A family man. She pushed away the unbidden vision of Joe kicking a soccer ball around with Mitchell. Of Joe teaching her son to shoot hoops.
No. No. No. Joe Martin was totally wrong for her. And that was apart from the fact that he’d agreed with her that kissing wasn’t a good idea.
She had to stop these crazy fantasies. Maybe she needed to start dating again. Perhaps she was reacting so strongly to Joe because she’d been without a man for so long—since Peter had moved out because she’d insisted on keeping the baby.
Going out with Clive on Friday night was probably a good idea, though she’d accepted his invitation half-heartedly. He’d said it was to celebrate her coup. That she deserved to be treated to a night out for all her hard work. But the way he’d said it, made her sense the evening out wouldn’t be strictly business.
Perhaps a date with Clive wasn’t a bad way to get back into the dating scene. He was reasonably good looking, intelligent and from her world—he understood only too well the pressures their business could put on relationships. She’d been through one divorce; he’d been through two. They spoke the same language.
Not like Joe Martin. He was so out of her sphere of experience, she would never have met him if it hadn’t been for this extraordinary situation that had forced them into each other’s company.
So why didn’t she give Clive a thought as she fell into a restless sleep, but rather kept remembering how wonderful it had felt to be in Joe’s arms?
CHAPTER FIVE
Joe had to make himself sit on the sofa in Allison’s living room. Otherwise he knew he’d pace up and down the room, wearing out the floorboards and getting angrier by the minute.
It wasn’t Wendy’s fault she’d developed a migraine and couldn’t look after Mitchell for the evening. He wasn’t angry with her. He was angry with himself for volunteering to step into the breach and help Allison out. He’d felt responsible because it was he who had suggested Wendy as a babysitter.
But it had been a mistake. A big mistake. There was no way he should be here making it easy for Allison to go out on a date with another man.
He could hear her footsteps on the wooden floor above as she moved around her bedroom. He’d already endured the torture of listening to the shower running and imagining her stepping into it naked. Erotic thoughts of helping soap her full breasts and around her deliciously curvy hips had to be forced away from his mind as his jeans grew uncomfortably tight.
What was she wearing now? Black lace panties? A garter belt perhaps? Was she, at this very minute, sensuously sliding silky stockings up and over her long, elegant legs? He got up and started to pace again.
Who was this guy she was getting all dressed up for to go out with tonight? She’d said it was her boss. But he’d sounded like an utter jerk when he’d been hassling her on the phone at seven AM that first day, before that big meeting. He didn’t really care about Allison, Joe was sure of that. And Allison obviously didn’t have great taste in men. First that jerk of a husband and now this guy.
His opinion of her ex-husband, Peter, hadn’t risen when he’d looked for some music to play this evening. All Allison had was one Norah Jones, a Michael Buble and a few old Celine Dion CDs. He’d bet her ex had cleaned her out of everything else. The women rarely scored the music collection in the divorce settlement. A divorced mother he’d nannied had told him that was the way it usually worked.
But in spite of that, and everything else, Allison still had photos of the guy all around the room. It still gave him the creeps having him staring back at him with those icy, pale blue eyes wherever he looked. Maybe this time he really would turn the photos to the wall after she’d gone.
Joe flung himself on the sofa again. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the coffee table. Got up, then sat down again. Then got up again very suddenly as Allison came down the stairs.
She wore a short black dress that clung to her awesome curves, sheer black stockings—he knew it, he just knew she’d been sliding them on as he’d been fantasizing about it—and high-heeled black shoes.
She’d done something different with her hair, and it fell loose around her shoulders in soft, caressing waves. Her eyes were darkened with more makeup than usual and her mouth was lipsticked glossy, alluring red. Her perfume wafted across the room to him.
He wanted to march her back up the stairs and make her put on something shapeless, long and boring. An old sack, preferably.
He had to clear his throat before he spoke. “You look beautiful,” he said gruffly.
She smiled her pleasure and her green eyes glowed. “Thank you.”
Beautiful was too weak a word to describe how she looked. Sensational. Stupendous. Sexy. He couldn’t stop his body from reacting. He wished he had a magazine or something to hold in front of his jeans.
How could he bear to see her parade herself in this follow-me-home-and-bed-me outfit before she went out with another guy?
Old Clive would be gloating when he clapped eyes on his date for the evening. Joe’s hands clenched into fists at the thought of it. And yet he knew he couldn’t offer what she was looking for—commitment and permanence.
“I really appreciate you canceling your band practice so I can go out,” she said.
Joe looked somewhere above her head. At the watercolor on the wall. At the gilt-edged clock. Anything to stop him staring at the enticing swell of her breasts. “You’re welcome,” he managed to choke out through a throat dry with desire. “Where are you going?”
“Dinner.” She named one of the most fashionable and expensive restaurants in town. He hadn’t been there. Yet. But when the big bucks started rolling in from the band, he’d be able to be there and anywhere else on the A-list he cared to be. If that was how he chose to spend the money.
“I have my cell phone with me if you need to call.” She indicated a glittering purse that swung from her wrist.
What else was in there? Joe couldn’t help but wonder. A discreet little foil pack for the after-dinner entertainment?
He shook his head to clear the thought. It was completely out of order. For a divorced woman of thirty-two, she had a surprising air of innocence about her—in spite of that dress. And look how she’d pushed him away last night. Somehow he doubted—or wanted to doubt—that sex was on Allison’s agenda for the evening. Even if Clive was hoping it was.
The doorbell rang. “He’s here,” she said. Her hands went to her hair to smooth it into place.
The gesture hurt him. He didn’t want to see her grooming herself for another man. He had to stop himself from reaching out and circling her wrists with his hands, to stop her from making herself looking any better than she already did.
Joe had been expecting Clive to be short and round and bald. He wasn’t. He was about Allison’s height, attractive enough, and well built.
Her date’s eyes gleamed appreciatively when he saw Allison, and he kissed her on both cheeks as he complimented her on her appearance.
His handshake when he was introduced to Joe was firm, and he did a good job of hidin
g his surprise when told Joe was the nanny.
Joe drew himself up to his full height as he shook Clive Henderson’s hand. He was unreasonably pleased he towered above the older man.
Clive was probably about forty, and wore a superbly-tailored suit and an expensive watch—just the kind of guy you’d expect someone like Allison Bradley to date. And the new-model Porsche he’d parked outside the gate only served to accentuate his suitability.
Instead of hoping that Clive would succumb to some debilitating, but not fatal, attack that would force him to cancel the date, Joe knew he should be glad she was dating someone so suitable.
It wasn’t easy for single mothers to start dating again. He knew that. They weren’t just looking for a man for themselves, but also a father for their children.
It was a big ask of a man. Too big for him. Impossible for him. He couldn’t offer her that kind of commitment.
Instead he was Mr. Nice Guy, facilitating her opportunity to date someone like Clive.
And hating every second of it.
He could sense the air of Allison’s small hallway filling with testosterone and pheromones and all those invisible, primal sexual substances that had had men fighting over women since caveman days.
He saw Allison shift quizzical green eyes from him to Clive and back again, sensing something was going on, but not realizing the two men were sizing each other up.
Not a word was spoken by either man, but Joe knew that Clive wanted her, and that Clive knew Joe wanted her.
Very deliberately, Clive put his arm possessively around Allison as he ushered her down the path. And Allison, though she looked a little startled, did nothing to shrug off his arm.
Joe could hardly wait to slam the door on the sight of their departing backs. He could smell her perfume lingering in the hallway, heady and sensuous but still with an appealing freshness—just like Allison herself.
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