“So, Miri,” said Marcus with a raised brow, sweeping a disapproving gaze over her dress. “I thought you would be too busy finishing the sculpture to leave your studio.” His manner was cordial enough, but Nick caught the brittle sarcasm. Curiosity and resentment were eating the guy alive.
“Yes, it’s just that tonight something came up…” she started to quaver, turning frantic eyes to Nick, looking for all the world like a startled deer caught in a pair of headlights.
Nick cleared his throat, looking first at Mariette and then at Marcus. “It’s great to meet you guys, but you’ll have to excuse us. Miri and I are in the middle of a business discussion.”
Marcus’ astonishment had Nick almost laughing. “Business discussion? Oh…well, I guess we’d better leave you to it,” he sputtered, although he didn’t sound like he wanted to go anywhere.
Mariette coughed. “It is very nice to meet you both. Marcus…?”
“Yes, well… see you guys.” Marcus reluctantly escorted Mariette away to find a waiter.
Nick sat back down. Miri had her napkin scrunched in a tight roll, and she was staring at him with almost palpable gratitude.
“More wine?” he asked with a grin, tilting the bottle in anticipation.
“Thank you for bailing me out. I didn’t know what to say.”
“Busted, eh? No problem. Happy to help a woman in distress. So…?”
She drew a slow, deep breath. “Actually, it’s no big deal. It’s just that Marcus asked me out last week to this restaurant. I turned him down, saying I was too busy working on his sculpture—the Egg Beater. The thing is, I’m always busy with a commission, so I hardly ever go out. It’s just that me being here…with you…seems a bit…you know, tactless.”
Nick couldn’t stop his grin of satisfaction, encouraged by her over-worked explanation. “Well, he did make it pretty obvious what he wants, or should I say, who he wants, so I guess it’s not surprising.”
She looked blank. “Sorry, what do you mean?”
Surely she knew. “He wants you. It’s written all over his face.”
“Oh, no, no. That’s not true at all. Marcus is a friend. He did his surgical training under my father, and we’ve kept in touch. Now he’s a client, that’s all. He asked me out to discuss the commission—nothing else.”
Yeah, she was in damage control all right. Trying to reassure him that Carter wasn’t important to her other than as a friend. He liked it. Hell, he really liked it. “Take it from me, Ms. Jamieson, he’s only got eyes for you.”
She frowned at that, making Nick wonder whether she really was as naïve as she seemed. “Right, well, here’s your dessert.”
While the waiter set the mousse and coffee on the table, Nick caught a glimpse of Marcus and Mariette seated at the far side of the restaurant. Marcus was doing his best to listen to his date’s conversation, but his gaze continually swept across to them. For just a friend and a client, Dr. Carter looked pretty pissed.
Nick turned back to watch Miri carefully remove the cherry from the top of the mousse and set it to one side. “What is it with women and chocolate?”
She thought for a moment, her eyebrows drawn together. “A guilty pleasure, perhaps. Like having too many pairs of shoes or not wearing pajamas to bed.” She dolloped a spoonful of mousse into her mouth, licking the tip of her spoon as she flicked a glance over him.
Nick felt his brow go up. Apparently, Dr. Carter was forgotten.
“No pajamas, eh?” Nick tried to quell an image of Miri in a pair of old-fashioned pajamas, but there she was, all flannel, elastic, and buttons. Jesus. “So what do you wear, then?” This was dangerous, but he had a sudden urge to know. At least, his libido did. Damn its curiosity.
She laughed, and Nick felt instant heat as she edged her tongue along her top lip. Was this just wishful thinking on his part, or was she flirting?
“Oops. Maybe that wasn’t a good example.” The tip of her tongue flashed again.
Okay, that was plain enough. The beauty was definitely flirting. In an old-fashioned 9-1/2 Weeks kind of way, but darn, if it wasn’t the cutest thing.
“Really?” Nick couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth. Full. Luscious. Ripe. Hell, he’d never wanted to taste a mouth so bad.
“Yum, this mousse is absolutely delicious,” she sighed, scooping the last trace from the dish with a finger and then licking it, all the while watching him through half-lowered lashes. Nick flexed in his seat. Miri might be a half-innocent, but that hot stare could raise a man’s interest in a millisecond. Hell, like he even needed help with his interest. His interest was fucking rock hard.
He watched her as she carefully set her spoon down and leaned back with a small, contented sigh. “Mmm, I’m absolutely full. Would you like my cherry? I won’t charge you for it.”
Nick only just held his smirk as Miri’s eyes went wide in horror. Poor angel. She had that startled-deer look again, only this time the deer wanted to die.
“Omigod! I didn’t mean…”
For a few moments, Nick didn’t trust himself to speak, and frankly, he couldn’t think of anything to say with all that scarlet-faced, open-mouthed dismay staring at him across the table. It made her look so unbelievably hot, he had a sudden urge to pull to her feet and kiss her there and then. Public restaurant or not. Marcus Carter or not.
“No problem, you have it,” he growled, watching her lick a tiny spot of mousse from the corner of her mouth. Nick had no doubt that Miri knew of her effect on him. There was enough sexual voltage racketing between them to electrify the whole of Charmford, and she was playing it for all it was worth.
“Would you like coffee?”
She paused for a moment, then shook her head. “No, thank you.” Nick shook his own head in disbelief at how easily she’d aroused him. With her pink face and plump lips still moist from her licks, Miri had to be the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
“Right, well, time to go.” Nick carefully buttoned his jacket as he stood, thankful that it covered his crotch. He was still as hard as hell. Getting caught with his pants in a tent wouldn’t be cool. Or cute.
Not cute at all.
CHAPTER SIX
It was kind of like being given a treat to stare at. A big, sexy treat.
So of course she had to stare at the treat. And truthfully, as a sculptor, she did have a responsibility to appreciate a well-proportioned form, even when the form in question was clearing dew from the windows of a BMW in Jean-Paul’s parking lot.
Oh, my, she had it bad.
Miri snuggled back into the car’s soft leather seat, forcing her thoughts to the evening, although it wasn’t easy with the Big Sexy Treat now leaning over the hood to wipe off the windshield.
Everything had turned out so well, considering she’d only accepted the invitation so she could argue about the mill. Nick’s explanation had come as a relief. She was tired of the whole thing anyway, and would find somewhere else for her studio. She hadn’t reckoned on the mill’s new owner being so straight-out delicious.
It had been a perfect evening. Well, almost. Marcus turning up had been embarrassing. Of course, her being there would have seemed rude to Marcus, but she would explain when she saw him on Monday at the installation of the Egg Beater. Besides, she didn’t need to think about him now that Nick was sliding into the driver’s seat.
“Okay, we’re good to go.”
Go? Miri started at the realization. She didn’t want to go. In another fifteen minutes she would be home and back to life pre-Nick. Or should that be post-Nick? Strange to think that it only took one coffee and one dinner for her safe little existence to be categorized in terms of before and after Nick.
“Yes, it is pretty late,” she agreed, wishing she could have the evening all over again. Nick was so unexpectedly nice. And he would be especially nice to draw. She sighed as she pictured him in her sketchbook. Something to show her grandchildren, perhaps. Oops. Maybe that was overthinking just a little. But her sketchbook w
as full of drawings of friends and acquaintances, so Nick’s picture would fit right in. Fully clothed, of course. Only in art class had she ever drawn nudes. Nick as a nude? Omigod. Six feet, three inches of anatomical perfection.
Mercy.
Nick fired the ignition. “Buckle up.”
A simple enough direction, but Miri couldn’t stop herself from imagining Nick in the driver’s seat, nude. Oh, hell, she was about to giggle.
“What’s caught your imagination?” Nick asked, with the kind of smile that said he’d figured it out.
“Um, nothing at all,” she squeaked, cursing her overactive brain. “It’s just the wine, that’s all.” As if he would believe that. Miri wrapped her pashmina more tightly around her shoulders and stared hard at the scenery outside her window, hoping she wasn’t about to have some sort of hysterical fit all the way home. With her emotions all over the place and Nick two feet from her, anything could happen.
Nick chuckled as he pulled the car out onto the street. “Oh, right, of course, the wine.”
Miri stole a suspicious look at him. Was the man psychic or something?
Okay, she’d just have to think about something safe. Like counting mailboxes and watching the street lights whiz by. Praying that the laws of physics and whatever else governed the universe wouldn’t apply, and her home would stretch farther and farther out of reach.
But of course the drive home would end, and Bree and Abe would be up watching a late-night movie, and Bree would want to know everything about the date. Slipping into the house and up to her bedroom without them hearing her would be next to impossible, considering Bree had bat sonar when it came to things that bumped after dark. There was also the question of whether Nick would kiss her goodnight, although that didn’t seem likely. After all, officially, this wasn’t a date.
She was still pondering the goodnight thing when Nick turned the car onto her street and slowed. Perhaps she should offer him coffee? Would he think that was an invitation for sex? So embarrassing. Even worse than her “cherry” remark. No, best to stick to a simple “goodnight, Nick” and escape to her bed. Besides, she needed to be alone with her art-class fantasy. Not have it sitting there beside her.
“Miri.”
Miri started at the sound of her name and looked around. It took a few seconds for her to register that they had stopped. And not in front of her house, but a few doors down, on the shoulder next to the street’s small park. To pull over a hundred yards from her house seemed strange, but perhaps Nick disliked doorstep goodnights. She leaned down, feeling around for her purse on the floor, her neck prickling with awareness that he was watching her every move.
Finding her purse, she sat up and braved a look at him. “This has been a lovely evening Nick…” she started to say, but her words fell to nothing as Nick brought his arm up to rest it along the back of her seat, his fingers brushing lightly over the nape of her neck.
He smiled, and Miri’s skin shivered at its promise. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Miri swallowed hard and stared along the road to her house. Her face burned, and her head felt like it was about to float off her neck. Only a few short minutes ago she hadn’t wanted the ride to end. Now she wanted nothing more. This man really was too much for her.
“Well, thank you again. It’s been very nice. Goodnight.” On edge and forced past tight lips, her words sounded pathetic, but she wasn’t up to a fancy farewell.
She reached for the door handle just as Nick leaned across the center console, turned her face toward his, and kissed her.
Miri gasped. Right into his mouth. She swore she could feel a soft chuckle rumbling up from deep in his throat, but his mouth was so delicious, her eyes fell closed and she let herself sink into the taste of him.
Not a long or deep kiss by any means, but when he drew back, Miri felt the loss of him so acutely it was an effort to open her eyes and focus on her surroundings. The car. The street.
Nick looking at her.
“Um…you’re very good at kissing,” she whispered rather formally, her hand still gripping the door handle, her lightheadedness climbing to dangerous levels.
When Nick brushed a strand of hair away from her face, she started, making him laugh. He had to think her an unsophisticated idiot.
“Well, you’re very kissable.” Easing his weight further toward her, Nick kissed her again, this time claiming her mouth so completely, Miri couldn’t prevent a low moan of pleasure escaping from her own throat. The first kiss had sharpened her senses. This one made everything spin. Curling a hand around his neck, Miri held on to him for dear life.
By the time Nick had lifted his head, she was on fire. Nothing in her meager sex résumé had prepared her for this. But then, she might as well have had twenty lovers or none at all, as no amount of experience could have prepared her for the ferocious ache that had settled between her legs.
“You okay?” he asked, his tone softly teasing, the warmth of his breath grazing her cheek. “You look pretty flushed.”
Flushed? She hadn’t stopped flushing since she’d met him. The man was practically a health hazard. “I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. Must be the warm weather.” She blushed harder at her silly remark.
“Mmm, and how very sexy you look.” His mouth found hers again and his fingers speared into her hair, releasing it from the comb.
Miri sighed softly against his mouth, loving the way his tongue sought hers and the way his beard bristles prickled her cheeks. But she really ought to say goodnight after this kiss and stumble along the street to her house. Then all of this would be just a pleasant memory, and her pre-Nick or post-Nick or whatever it was life would be back to normal.
But Miri knew she was a lost cause. She knew it even before Nick’s mouth found the hollow in her throat and the unrelenting throb between her legs built to just short of unbearable. The intoxicating effect of his incredibly skilled mouth, fueled by her sexual starvation, gave her a sudden, overwhelming, what-the-hell moment of recklessness. Barely able to believe her own boldness, she spread her fingers wide and worked slowly across his chest, checking his build. Thoroughly, like any accomplished sculptor would appraise a form. He was so sexy and warm and inviting. And there was a button undone.
Miri paused, unsure. She ached to explore him. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, she reasoned through her lust. Working her fingers inside his shirt, she pressed her fingertips against the hard muscle she knew would be there.
“An artist’s nude,” she murmured softly, her fingers tracing around each sharply defined abdominal. She’d built a fairly accurate mental picture of what Nick’s body would look like, but her fingers told her so much more.
Definitely a work of art.
He lifted his head in surprise. “What?” he growled, looking down at her hand buried inside his shirt. “What are you talking about?”
Miri pulled her hand out in embarrassment. “Oh, an artist’s nude.” Oh, hell. “What I mean is, you’d be perfect.” Why on earth had she just said that?
Nick stared at her as if confused. “Are you saying you want me to get naked? Only too happy to oblige, but we’ll need to find somewhere more private.”
“Actually, I mean in an art class.” Oh, Lord, this was worse.
He caught her hand in his big grip, making her heart skip beats as he kissed along each of her fingertips. “I’ll be there. Just let me know the time and place.”
He grinned.
“All right, you’re on. I’ll ring the tutor and arrange it. How did you get to be so hard and strong?” she asked on an impulse, then bit her lip. It was like she’d grown a “stupid” button that had no off switch.
Nick leaned back, his obvious amusement at her question making her go even redder. “I prefer working with the men on jobs rather than pushing a pen. And I do some boxing and martial arts. Keeps the reflexes sharp.”
“Oh, macho kick-ass stuff.” Miri knew she was being super-obvious in her admiration, but she couldn�
�t seem to stop. She couldn’t even slow down.
“I guess you could call it that. You know what you’re doing to me, right?”
Miri’s mind went dizzy with the possibilities. “What?”
Nick leaned close, his mouth a hair’s breadth from hers. “Making me want to do this.” He tilted her head back and kissed her throat, all the way to down to the top of her breasts, where his mouth lingered and breathed hot and damp on her skin. She arched into him, her fingers fisting his shirt. This was so reckless. But right now, nothing mattered except the moment. And she needed this moment. Desperately. As Nick raised his head, she found the opening in his shirt again and pushed her hand deep inside, sliding her fingers down until they hit the barrier of his belt.
“So lovely and hard… ” she started to say, but her words were cut off when Nick kissed her again.
“God, Miri,” he moaned into her mouth, his hand circling her waist to pull her toward him until she could feel herself wedged hard against the console separating them. With a deep growl, Nick lifted her across the console to set her down half on his lap, his hand supporting her butt.
Miri was way past lost cause. With a deep sigh, she let her head fall back as Nick used his free hand to ease the straps of her dress down. She heard his soft growl and felt his mouth along the top of her bra, lingering to dip his tongue between her breasts. When he stopped, she opened her eyes, praying this wasn’t the end. Nick was staring at her strapless, black lace demi bra as if transfixed. His white-hot stare made everything inside her tighten with need. Oh, dear Lord, she wanted him. All of him.
When Nick worked his hand down inside the lace to graze his thumb over a nipple, Miri trembled at what was to come, barely able to draw a breath.
“Oh, God,” Miri moaned as Nick’s fingers hooked under her bra and pulled it down in one swift movement.
“You’re incredible. So beautiful,” he murmured, bending to flick his tongue over a nipple.
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