She grabbed his arm and yanked him out of his chair.
Ignoring all protests, including her mother’s—she’d pay for that one later—she dragged him back down the hall.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down.
He leaned against the wall, looking completely at his ease. The fact that she could recognize his scent—warm vanilla and leather—irritated her. It made her hungry.
“Your mother and I thought it would be a good time for me to get to know your family,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“And when did you two decide this?”
“When I called her this morning,” came the answer. She could see him trying to hold back the smile now. His mouth stayed solemn but his eyes were a dead giveaway. “Your hair sure does fly all over the place.” He reached out a hand and tucked a riotous curl behind her ear.
She slapped him away. “Stop touching me. Why were you calling my mother?”
“I know it’s old-fashioned, but I still believe in asking the girl’s parents for permission before you marry her.”
“Are you crazy?” All thoughts of keeping quiet went right out the window as she bellowed at him. “You told my mother we’re getting married?”
“Keep your cool, Addy.”
She could have punched him right in the face for leaning there, calm and poised, arms crossed loosely on his chest.
“Screw my cool!” She stamped her foot and knew she was acting like a five-year-old. It was beyond her control. Spencer stood up straight and took a step toward her. “Who do you think you are?” She felt crowded and pushed him back, hard. Liked it, and pushed him again. “My knight in goddamn shining armor?”
Her breath was heaving in her chest. She was appalled by her lack of control but couldn’t seem to rein in her fury.
“It’s a simple solution to a difficult problem.”
He was not helping.
And he was so damn cute in those glasses.
“Adeline Tyler.” Ignoring her mother twice was not an option. She turned to face the stern glance. “Spencer is our guest. We do not yell at our guests. And the rest of your family is ready to eat.”
Addy nodded. Plastering a smile on her face, she gestured for Spencer to proceed before her. Safely hidden behind his suit-coated back, she dropped the fake enthusiasm.
“We’ll finish this later, you conniving weasel.”
He turned and grabbed her by the elbows, yanking her up against his body before she could react. His eyes glittered and there wasn’t a hint of cuteness about him as he ground a hard, brief kiss against her stunned mouth.
“We certainly will, you stubborn witch.”
Dinner was hell.
Only her mother’s stern edict that any and all interrogations under hot lights be postponed until after the meal kept her siblings in check. Addy, stuck sitting across from the archfiend himself, kept her eyes away from him and her mouth shut.
After dinner, she made a move to corner Spencer, only to watch him get spirited away by her two sisters on a tour of the house, her brother following two steps behind them with a dark look. Addy was stuck clearing the table with her mother.
In the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, she had only one sentence for the woman she loved more than life itself.
“I’m not marrying him and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
“Whatever you say, sweetie.” Her mother scraped plates before handing them along. “Just take it outside before you start yelling at him again.”
Minutes later, she kissed her mom on the cheek, got a hug in return and went to hunt down her man.
She found them all in the living room.
“Everyone out.” She speared one set of eyes with a cold look.
“Except me?”
“Except you.”
Her siblings left obediently, but not before she caught a wordless exchange between the two men in the room that boded more conversation between them later.
Remain calm. She chanted the words in her head like a silent mantra.
“I understand what you’re trying to do here, Reed,” she began calmly, “but, frankly, I’d rather marry Spike.”
“Spike? Maybe your great-aunt was right to worry about you.” His brow wrinkled and he ran a hand through his hair, loosening blond waves. “Is that your boyfriend?”
“Hardly.” As she stood there, a dozen questions and confusions battled for first place in her mind. “It’s a long story.”
He sank gracefully onto the faded couch, looking more comfortable than a man in what was undoubtedly a two-thousand-dollar suit had a right to look. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re better off if I can vouch for your mental stability. Tell me a story.”
She marched to the hall closet and grabbed his overcoat.
“No stories,” she said and tossed the coat onto the couch next to him. “Get out.”
He crossed a leg over one knee and draped his arm across the back of the sofa. And waited.
Two could play at that game, she thought. She turned her back on him and walked over to the window onto the street. Leaning against the cold glass, she stared out at the quiet houses across the road and cleared her mind of all thoughts of Spencer Reed and his ridiculous proposal.
Not that he’d even proposed to her.
Stop it, she berated herself. Look at the houses. The Jansens look as though they’re putting on an addition, isn’t that nice?
Thirty seconds later, she admitted that she wasn’t going to win this battle. Her only triumph was that she managed to keep her back to him when she spoke.
“Can’t you get disbarred for this? It must be some kind of conflict of interest.”
“Probably.” His voice was rich with amusement. She felt it curling around her like the touch of his fingers in her hair. “I’m willing to try and figure a way around it.”
“Why?”
“Maybe I thought you looked right in your great-aunt’s house. Like you belonged there.”
She snorted in disbelief. “You look like you belong there way more than I do.” Her own words sparked a tiny candle flame of suspicion in her. She wanted a reason to suspect his motives. Needed it. The suspicion grew.
Fancy clothes. Fancy car. Run-down office. Living at a client’s house. Was she missing the obvious here?
“Is this a con?” She whirled around and stared at him. He hadn’t moved from his seat. “What, you dress rich to cover up the fact that you’re broke and then try to scam your way into marrying me to get your hands on my great-aunt’s house?”
Complete silence.
She watched him as he stood up and shrugged into his coat. He pulled leather gloves from his pockets and tugged them onto his hands. Then he walked past her to the front door.
“Oh, so now you’re leaving?”
“No. We’re leaving. Get your coat.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she sputtered at the back of his head.
“Susannah, I’ll bring Addy back in half an hour,” he called out before turning to stare at her. His lips pressed together in a tight line as he looked at her as if she were something he’d accidentally stepped in and then scraped off the bottom of his shoe.
“Okay, Spencer. Lovely meeting you this evening,” came her mother’s voice in return. The casual acceptance stung.
“Get your coat.”
She obeyed. The sinking suspicion that she’d let her fear of the situation talk her mouth into writing a check of accusation she didn’t want to cash was crystallizing in her stomach.
The air outside was bitterly cold, and ice sheeted the sidewalk where salt hadn’t been spread. He didn’t take her arm to steady her, or even look at her as she followed him to his car. Ten steps away, the BMW beeped, clicked, blinked on lights and purred to life with a low rumble.
“Nice car,” she muttered as he opened the passenger-side door for her.
“Shut up.” He s
lammed the door shut as soon as she swung her legs in.
How do I get myself into these situations? she wondered. What happened to “remain calm”?
The vents were already blowing warm air across her cheeks, but she felt ice radiating off Spencer as he slid into the driver’s seat. She ventured to speak.
“Listen, maybe I jumped the gun—”
“Not a word, Addy.”
They pulled away from the curb in one smooth acceleration. He drove quickly but carefully through the quiet streets. She clasped her hands in her lap, feeling like a schoolgirl waiting outside the principal’s office door, and stared out the windshield.
Ten minutes later, they were in Lincoln Park, the north side’s high-rent district, on one of the main streets where commercial and retail spaces mixed with the occasional residential building. He pulled over in a loading zone and parked, leaving the engine running.
When he got out of the car and walked around to her side, she didn’t wait for him. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and shut the door behind her, just in time to be pushed by Spencer up to the edge of a temporary construction fence surrounding the building they’d parked in front of. Scaffolding and blue tarp hid most of the three-story gray-stone building from sight.
A building like that would go for two million in this neighborhood, she knew, easy.
His body was a brick wall behind her. He clamped one hand on her shoulder, fingers tight through her winter coat, and with the other forced her chin up until she stared at the building in front on her. His voice vibrated with tension like a tightly twisted rope, two seconds from snapping.
“I own this building. My office will be on the ground floor, my home on the top two. I’ll have a copy of the deed sent to your office by messenger tomorrow morning.”
If you’re going to screw up, do it in a big way, she’d always said. Or at least, she’d be saying it from now on.
When he didn’t continue, only dropped his hand from her chin to rest it on her other shoulder, more gently now, she opened her mouth.
“My turn to speak?” She tried but couldn’t keep a touch of asperity from her words.
Unbelievably, she thought he laughed behind her. “I’ve not noticed you waiting for turns so far.”
She twisted in his grasp until she faced him. Tilting her head back to look him in the eye, she was excruciatingly aware of how close their mouths were. Time to act like a grown-up.
“I’m sorry. What I said was rude and uncalled for and I knew it wasn’t true when I said it.” Being a grown-up sucked.
Their faces were close enough that his breath warmed her cheek when he spoke. He’d kept his hands on her as she’d turned, and she found that her own hands rested on his forearms as she looked steadily at him.
“Then why did you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Somehow you just bring out the West Side Story in me.”
This time he did laugh. His smile revealed a dimple in one sharply planed cheek.
“Ready to rumble at a moment’s notice?”
“Something like that.” She looked away. This was crazy. The occasional car hissed past through the slush-covered street, and she was about two seconds from kissing this man she’d only just apologized to for calling a con artist. She looked back. “I really am sorry, Reed.”
“One of these times, you’re going to call me by my first name,” he said, and then his mouth was on hers and she was glad he hadn’t made her kiss him first. Without a thought, her hands slid up his arms until her gloved fingers pressed fiercely on the back of his neck as her mouth opened to him. She breathed his breath and nipped at his lip and her need poured from her into his kiss.
The fence swayed a little behind her as they stumbled up against it and a passing car honked at them, but every sensation outside of the kiss came to her as if from miles away. The taste of his mouth, still sweet from dessert. The pressure of his hand locked onto her hip. The storm of this kiss, raging between them, was all she could feel.
His other hand fisted in her hair, tugging her head deliciously back until her bare throat was exposed to the cold night air and the heat of his lips and tongue skating down the column of her neck. Even with her eyes closed, she could see the stars in the black night above her.
The shock of ice in her pants had her jerking away from the embrace with a sudden start.
“Hey, now!”
Spencer had managed to unbutton her coat and snake his hands inside and up under her shirt, something she hadn’t minded at all at the time. But now, with snow from his gloves and the fence and the world in general sliding south of her waistline, she was considerably less enthusiastic.
“Ice. Ice in pants,” she said, hopping in a circle and trying to scoop out the snow wedged in her pants with two curled fingers. She only managed to push it in farther. “Ai yi yi, so cold.” She gave up. Turning her back on Spencer, she unzipped her pants, gasped at the smack of cold air on her skin and finally managed to rid herself of the chilly clumps. Struggling with gloved fingers to pull her zipper back up, she heard what sounded suspiciously like choking coming from behind her.
“I swear to God, if you’re laughing, Reed, you’re gonna know exactly what this feels like in about two seconds.”
Before she could turn around, his arms were around her, bundling her up in an enormous hug. His lips were cold against her ear as he whispered, laughter in his voice.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
In a second, he had her spun around and pressed up against the side of his car.
“Where were we?”
She pressed her palms firmly against his chest and reared her head back out of reach.
“We were making a big mistake, that’s where we were.”
Tugging on her scarf, he tried to pull her closer. “No, no, no. I’m the sensible one.” He leaned his hips against hers and the focus of her entire body shot south. “You’re the one who can’t control her impulses.”
“You’re the attorney,” she said, keeping away from his mouth and wondering where this sudden sense of responsibility had sprung from. “I’m the client.”
“Your great-aunt was my client.”
“Same difference.”
“Not hardly.” But he gave in, dropping his hands and pausing only to press his forehead against hers. She felt him take a couple of deep breaths. “But I see your point.”
Stepping out of his embrace, she put her hand on the car door and opened it. “Come on, let’s go.” After she slid into her seat, he pushed the door softly shut. He stood next to the car, motionless for a little while, before walking around it and getting in. He was shaking his head, but didn’t say anything.
She waited until they’d arrived back at her mother’s house, double-parking next to her truck. After a moment of silence, she scooched around in her seat until she was facing him, one arm braced on her seat, the other on the dash.
“Look, Reed,” she began, and then stopped. She didn’t want to be abrupt now. The words mattered because she knew she was right. “I appreciate the fact that you want to help. Really, I do. But this isn’t going to work.”
His face was shadowed. “Which part of it?”
She understood immediately. His offer to marry her and what happened between them every time they got within two feet of each other were separate things. Unfortunately.
“Any of it.”
His exhale echoed her own. “I don’t want you to give up on your great-aunt’s house, Addy.”
“I’m not.” She laughed at herself and caught his answering smile. “I didn’t want to scam my way into her inheritance at first, but I’ll admit it now—I’ve changed my mind. If Great-Aunt Adeline wanted to put some crazy rules in her will, I’m willing to be a little crazy in turn.”
He reached a hand over and squeezed her knee. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”
Good, they were back to teasing insults. She was comfortable with that. “My insanity only goes so far. I’ll find someone to marry,
but it’ll be someone I’m not so…” She drifted off into silence.
His hand slid higher up her thigh. She felt every molecule in her body vibrate with renewed tension and caught her breath on a sharp inhale.
“So instantly attracted to?” He bared white teeth in a sudden grin.
“It may surprise you to hear this, Reed, but I don’t hop into bed with every guy I’m attracted to, much less marry them.” She popped the door open and jumped out of the car. She’d learned her lesson about staying near him when she felt like this. He leaned over the console between the seats to keep her in his sight.
“It wouldn’t surprise me at all.” He laughed shortly. “Half of them are probably running scared after you give them a tongue-lashing that reminds them of their mothers.”
“Flatterer.”
“Just promise me that you won’t do anything sudden, Addy.” His voice was abruptly serious and his gaze locked on hers, extracting a promise she didn’t want to give. “Let me know if you decide to do something and then give yourself twenty-four hours to think about it, okay? You’ve got some time here.”
She’d just turned his offer down flat and he was still trying to look out for her. A sweet warmth stole over her. She ducked her head back in the car and pressed a quick, cold kiss to his cheek.
“You’re a good man, Spencer Reed,” she whispered in his ear and felt his hand brush over her hair like an angel’s kiss.
She shut the car door and sprinted up the walk to her mother’s door. Time to say goodbye before heading home. On the porch, she turned and looked back at his dark form sitting still in the car. He raised one hand in a brief farewell and drove away while she watched him.
A good man.
Two weeks later, Addy would have paid a thousand dollars for a rewind button on life that let her go back to that moment outside the car, just so she could lunge back in the door and smack him silly.
A good man. Bah. A dirty-dealing, underhanded sneak was more like it. She should have known better than to think Spencer Reed was looking out for her. Too trusting, that’s what she was.
The man was driving her batty. Another two weeks of this nonsense and she’d be asking for the straitjacket and the keys to the padded room.
Sleeping Arrangements (Silhouette Desire) Page 7