Perfect Partners?

by C. J. Carmichael

  She went very still. Then she grabbed the key out of his hand. “If you ever did that, Nathan, then everything between us would be over. Our partnership. Our friendship. Everything.”

  A moment later, she had disappeared inside her building.

  SHE NEEDED A DRINK.

  Lindsay opened her fridge. Every ingredient to mix a paralyzer was in here: tequila, vodka, coffee liqueur, cola and cream. But tonight, she wasn’t in the mood for measuring and mixing. She grabbed the bottle of tequila. As she untwisted the cap, she considered drinking straight from the bottle, but that seemed a little too desperate, so she grabbed a juice glass from the cupboard and poured two fingers’ worth of the amber brew.

  Nathan. Damn the man, he had her so confused. As long as they were working, everything was fine. But then he’d cross a line—make her aware of him as a man, not just a partner—and all bets were off.

  She was inconveniently, incredibly, undeniably attracted to him.

  Clearly working together was going to be impossible. Somehow she had to get through the month, though. Once they’d done as much as possible to help Audrey Burchard, then she would tell him. Nathan would find work somewhere else, she would regain control of her life and everything in general would return to normal.

  God, how depressing.

  Lindsay took a long swallow of the tequila.

  Don’t think about him. Not now.

  She wished she could just keep drinking the tequila until she fell into a stupor, but long ago she’d made a promise to her sister and it was something she took seriously. She allowed herself to finish the glass, then poured another and put the bottle away.

  She called for a pizza and watched TV until the delivery guy arrived. When she finally had food in her system, she decided she might as well get some work done. She already knew this wasn’t going to be a good night for sleep.

  As she sat by the computer in her living room, she tried not to remember that just one night ago Nathan had been sitting in this very chair…

  Stop it, Lindsay. Focus on helping somebody else.

  Those messages Nadine had given her earlier. She had them in her bag somewhere. Lindsay fished through all her papers until she found them. She selected one at random.

  Nadine had filled out a preliminary case summary, along with a woman’s name and phone number. Apparently this woman had met a man while holidaying in Florida. They’d fallen in love and he’d asked her to marry him, but the woman wisely wanted to check out the guy first.

  On paper the guy sounded great. Albert Walker-Smythe had a degree from the University of Florida and worked as an accountant in a large, reputable firm. So far so good.

  But then Lindsay read the P.S. Nadine had added to the end of the message…the wedding is in one week.

  Lindsay groaned. Normally she would call the woman back, arrange a meeting, request a retainer and make sure the check cleared the bank before even starting a case like this.

  But there was no time and the consequences were too high. She’d do a few quick searches now. If the guy seemed legit, she’d call the woman tomorrow and follow standard procedure.

  It took Lindsay only fifteen minutes to realize that Walker-Smythe was a total scam artist. Not only had he lied about his university education, but he’d omitted mentioning his criminal record. Shaking her head, Lindsay jotted some notes for the phone call she would be making tomorrow morning. Topping the list was her first recommendation: Cancel the wedding!

  By the time she’d finished her notes, her eyes were burning and the back of her skull had started to throb. She checked the time. It was almost one in the morning.

  She tried stretching out on the sofa, but that only made her think of Nathan again. Damn, she wanted another drink.

  Instead, she ran a bath, lit some candles and put Shelby Lynne on the sound system. The idea was to relax, but after Lindsay had soaped herself clean, she was too uptight to sit and soak.

  Giving up on the bath routine, she drained the tub and wrapped her pink, warm body in a terry cloth robe.

  She’d try sleeping again. In the bed this time.

  But the old sadness was rolling in and she found herself doing something she never would have expected. She reached for her phone and dialed Nathan’s home number.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THIS IS crazy. Hang up, fast, before he—

  “Hello? Lindsay? Is that you?”

  Immediately she felt like an idiot. Why should he care that she couldn’t sleep? It wasn’t his problem.

  “Lindsay? Are you okay?”

  “Do you remember the night we were working late tailing the punk with the mermaid tattoos?”

  He picked up the story without hesitation. “We were in an unmarked Buick. It was raining.”

  She closed her eyes. “It was so bloody hot and muggy in that car. And you couldn’t find anything good on the radio.”

  “And then, suddenly, that James Blunt song came on.”

  “‘Beautiful.’” The song had been playing everywhere that year, but that night she’d felt as though she was hearing it for the very first time.

  Then Nathan had looked at her.

  And she’d been lost.

  Though she’d denied it, what had happened between them had been a big part of the reason she’d left the force three weeks later.

  “Lindsay.” His voice sounded thick with emotion. “Should I come over?”

  She ignored the part of her mind that handled logic and reason, listening instead to the aching need that she could no longer deny.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m leaving now.”

  She waited by the window, somehow not surprised to see that it had started raining since the pizza had been delivered. She opened the window a crack so she could smell the freshness and hear the soothing drumming as the city underwent a thorough cleansing.

  After only fifteen minutes or so, she saw a tall figure in a dark coat walking up the street. The man stopped at her building and looked up to her third-floor window. Nathan. She wrapped an arm around her waist and shivered, though she wasn’t cold.

  She was nervous. She didn’t entertain men in her apartment very often. Emotional attachments were too problematic, and the idea of inviting a man she didn’t know very well into her home just seemed plain unsafe to her. So it had been a long time since she’d….been with somebody.

  Not that she’d invited Nathan here to have sex.

  No?

  Well, maybe it had sort of been implied. But she could still change her mind. Nathan would respect that.

  She pressed the security code to let him in, then opened the apartment door. As soon as she saw him, she started to apologize. “I’m sorry I called so late.”

  “I couldn’t sleep, either.”

  His hair and face were soaked and water droplets shimmered on his black jacket. He removed the coat in the hall, shook off most of the water, then stepped inside.

  “Let me take that.”

  “It’s wet. Let me. Then we can talk.”

  She’d felt a physical rush of pleasure when he’d removed his jacket. A gray T-shirt stretched over his muscular chest and faded blue jeans hung low on his hips. His face might be of the wholesome variety, but his body was pure masculine power…strong, tight and hard, in perfect shape.

  She put a hand to the collar of her robe, suddenly wondering why she hadn’t thought to get dressed. Being in her robe like this was a little obvious, wasn’t it?

  Embarrassed, she tried to distract herself. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No.”

  His eyes sought out hers, and she shivered again under his tender scrutiny. For a tough guy, Nathan had a real gentle side—something she’d always admired about him.

  She waited for him to touch her, trembling again as she imagined his arms slipping under her robe, around her back.

  But he didn’t make a move toward her. He didn’t say anything, either, just stood patiently, watching her. U
nder his warm, intent gaze, she suddenly felt shy.

  Shy—her? What a laugh. She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Maybe you don’t want one, but I could definitely use a drink.”

  “Allow me.” He went to the kitchen and pulled out the various bottles and cartons that were lined up on the top shelf of her fridge.

  “Sorry I don’t have any mineral water,” she ribbed him, but he didn’t smile.

  “It isn’t a mineral water sort of night.”

  Her chest muscles tightened at his words, his serious tone. She was tempted to ask him what sort of night it was, then. But she didn’t dare. Every skin cell on her body was vibrating with the sensual need to be stroked. And while normally she had no problem making the first move in a sexual encounter, tonight her instincts were warning her to hold back.

  She watched Nathan pour measured amounts of liquids into two glasses, creating the perfect, creamy balance. Other than the wine they’d shared at dinner last night, Nathan had never drank alcohol in her presence. At least he hadn’t in the past.

  Tonight was apparently to be an exception.

  They settled with their drinks in the living room. Nathan waited for her to sit first, then chose a spot close, but not touching her.

  The empty space between them, though small, surprised her.

  Maybe he wasn’t here for sex. She looked at him, puzzled, trying to see the answer in his eyes. But he wasn’t giving away anything by his expression. He set his drink on the table, then rested his hands on his thighs.

  Lindsay put down her drink, too.

  “I need you to talk to me, Lindsay.”

  “About what?” she asked, her nervousness mounting.

  “Anything, as long as it isn’t related to work.”

  “What else is there?”

  “Your hobbies? Your interests?”

  “I run a couple times a week and go to the occasional yoga class. When I was younger I was really into judo. And you?”

  “I run, too. And I belong to a gym at the end of my block. I share hockey tickets with some buddies I went to school with. And I like to have dinner on Sundays with my sister and nephew.”

  She thought of something else she could contribute. “Every Saturday I have lunch with my sister. So. Is that enough sharing?”

  “I want to know you, Lindsay. The real you. The complete you.”

  His words shattered something hard and tight inside of her. To her surprise, a tear leaked out from one eye. She brushed away the moisture.

  No one had ever said anything like that to her before.

  And the look in his eyes. Pure compassion and caring. No hint of the morbid curiosity that she despised so much.

  But why should he be curious? He didn’t know what had happened. Thank God, he didn’t know. She closed her eyes, searching for strength, for balance and perspective.

  Her sister thought she’d erected a wall between herself and the rest of the world. Meg kept telling Lindsay that eventually the wall would have to come down.

  Lindsay didn’t agree. She was stronger than her sister and so she was able to face the brutal truth. What had happened to her and Meg had left a scar that could never go away. What Nathan seemed to be offering…complete understanding and empathy…was impossible.

  But there was something else he could give her, something she’d never wanted from a man before. Not just sex, but intimacy and caring.

  “You do know me. We worked together for over a year.”

  He sighed. “You’re not understanding on purpose. But I’m willing to take baby steps. Start with one piece of information about your past. Can you trust me that much?”

  She fought the urge to argue that the past wasn’t relevant. She knew that was a lie, and she didn’t want to insult him. “One fact? I grew up in rural California and went to university at Berkley. Satisfied?”

  “Like I said, it’s a start. Now it’s my turn. I grew up in Manhattan with my parents and my sister. My dad was a firefighter. I’ve already told you he died saving someone from a burning building. I was twelve when that happened. I’m guessing you were even younger when your parents died.”

  She shrugged.

  “But you don’t want to talk about that, right?”

  “Right,” she agreed.

  “So what is it you want, Lindsay? Just sex?”

  In the past, yes. With Nathan it was already too late to keep their relationship so contained. “Work partners with benefits,” she decided was the best way to put it.

  “No strings, no promises.”

  She nodded.

  Their gazes met and without looking away Nathan slid closer. His hand slipped along her cheek, to cup the back of her head. She loved the feeling of his fingers combing through her hair, the combination of strength and gentleness in his hand.

  He studied her face with loving intensity. She waited, breathless, feeling a shocking vulnerability and an aching need.

  He finished his perusal of her face with her eyes, gazing deeply into them, and then, slowly, he angled his mouth toward hers.

  She gasped with the initial pleasure of lips meeting lips. And then she angled her face, too, allowing for a closer connection.

  The chemistry was instantaneous, just as it had been the first time. Sensation blocked out rational thought and she allowed herself to react on the physical level, kissing him, reaching her arms around his back as he did the same with her.

  Eventually passionate kisses tapered to something softer and exploratory. He pressed his mouth to her eyes, to her cheekbones, to the bridge of her nose.

  Time ticked away unnoticed as she explored the masculine beauty of his face, too, with her lips, the tips of her fingers. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Kissing Nathan. Her partner. Ex-partner. Now partner, again.

  And then she felt him tugging at her robe. The soft cotton parted and his hands slid along her rib cage to explore the length of her back.

  “Stand up.”

  She did as he asked, and he moved with her. His hands slipped lower down her body, cupping her butt, then pressing her to him.

  She loved feeling how aroused he was. She dipped her fingers inside his waistband until she found the fastening for his jeans, the fullness at his zipper.

  “Here? Or the bedroom?” he asked.

  The idea of moving apart, even for just a few seconds, was agony. “Here.”

  He slipped the robe over her shoulders and it fell to the floor. Moments later his jeans, his T-shirt, joined it.

  Nathan stood back, his gorgeous body glowing in the faint city light that spilled in between the slats of her wooden blinds. She couldn’t wait to touch him, to taste him, to see what logical, rational Nathan would do when his body was pulsing with pleasure.

  “You are so beautiful, woman.”

  “Thanks for noticing.”

  He laughed at her confidence and she raised her eyebrows. She’d always been happy with her body. Why pretend otherwise?

  Last night Nathan had used a blanket from her bed to cover her while she slept on the sofa. Now he spread that same blanket on the floor and they tumbled onto it, his skin warm and smooth next to hers. He settled her onto her back, then propped himself above her. With tender hands, he cupped one breast, then the other, kissing her hardened nipples, testing them with his teeth.

  She moaned to show him what she liked. It seemed as if she liked everything. She relaxed and enjoyed for a while, then put a hand to his chest.

  “My turn,” she said.

  He took her hand and placed it over her head, pinning it there with one long, muscled arm. “No rush, sweetheart,” he said softly. “We’ve got all night.”

  Finally. An advantage to having insomnia.

  LINDSAY’S INCREDIBLE ENERGY and enthusiasm made her a wonderful partner in bed. The sex was incendiary between them, but Nathan hoped she had also sensed his caring and his tenderness. She’d only trusted him with a nugget from her past, which made him all the more certain that something ver
y painful still waited to be revealed.

  He would be patient. He had no choice, since he now had no doubt that he dangled precariously on the verge of falling in love.

  As the sky lightened with dawn, the rain stopped and they finally fell asleep. Lindsay rested with her head on his chest and one leg over his thighs. He was pinned like a butterfly, but he didn’t mind. He drifted in and out of sleep for a few hours, grateful that Lindsay, at least, seemed to be getting uninterrupted rest for a change.

  It was close to noon when she finally opened her eyes. Her dark lashes swept upward, then he heard a quick intake of breath.

  “What time is it?”

  He’d removed his watch, but there was a clock display on her DVD player. “Eleven-forty.”

  “Are you serious?”

  She jolted upright, apparently not at all self-conscious that she was nude. He enjoyed the daytime view of her small, shapely breasts and the tight abdominal muscles of a woman who worked out regularly.

  She untangled her legs from his, then brushed aside the blanket. “Why aren’t you moving? We’re late for work.”

  “It’s Saturday.”

  “Oh. Right. That explains why the alarm didn’t go off.” She raked a hand over the top of her head, spiking up her thick blond hair.

  “Come back to bed. Or should I say, the floor?” He reached for her, touching the side of her calf.

  “I can’t. My sister will be here in twenty minutes. I’m going to be late as it is.” She dug around the clothes piled on the floor until she found her robe, which she slipped over her shoulders. She shook her head as if she still felt a little foggy brained. “I didn’t finish my drink.”

  She was looking at the paralyzer he’d mixed for her, still sitting on the coffee table. “You didn’t touch your drink,” he clarified.

  “That’s a first.” She grabbed her glass and his, and carried them to the kitchen. He heard her dump the contents down the drain, then turn on the tap to rinse the glasses. She was back in the living room a moment later. “You need to leave.”

  He had to laugh at her bluntness. “No morning sex?”

  “It’s almost afternoon,” she reminded him. “And my sister will be here in twenty minutes.”