Heat of the Moment

by Lori Herter

  Then, as mysteriously as they had started, the earth tremors stopped. The rattling in the room subsided and all was calm. In the next instant Josie slipped her hand out from under his, as if she’d never been aware he’d been holding it, and went to her purse, which she’d left on a lab table. She took out her cell phone and dialed a number she knew by memory.

  Al crawled out from under his table. As Josie spoke on the phone, Al said to Peter, “I see she pushed you toward the bedroom. Nice going!”

  “I doubt it ever entered her mind,” Peter said in hushed, upbraiding tones to his old buddy. “She was looking for a door frame, and this was the closest.”

  “Yeah, right! I saw her grip your shoulder. You can thank me for arranging all this work for you two to do here, alone.” Al leaned down toward Peter’s ear. “All parts still in working order since your accident? Better take ’em for a test run.”

  Peter exhaled and glanced at Josie, glad she was too involved in her phone conversation to overhear. “Weren’t you leaving?” he asked Al.

  “Just looking out for your total health, ol’ pal! Gotta keep up your morale for the good of the company.”

  Josie closed her cell phone and walked up to them, the excitement still in her eyes. “I just talked to my friend at Cal Tech. She said the preliminary estimate is 5.0. The epicenter is still being determined, but they think it’s near Hollister.”

  “Fast work!” Al said. “You’ve got friends at Cal Tech?”

  “A woman I met doing postgrad work. So I asked her the obvious question, and she said she’s worried it might be.”

  “Translation?” Al said.

  Josie looked surprised.

  “What’s the obvious question?” Peter asked Josie.

  “If this quake is a foreshock to the Big One,” she explained. “Hollister is near the San Andreas. This quake may be the latest indication that we’re due for a major quake soon.”

  “We’ve known for years we’re overdue,” Peter said. “But it could happen next week or fifty years from now.”

  “That’s what most seismologists say. But there’s a new theory that indicates it’ll be a lot sooner than fifty years. The seismologist who developed this theory hasn’t told the public this, but he believes it’ll be anytime in the next six months.” She looked suddenly chastened—as if she’d only just realized her obvious love of seismology was considerably less important than the calamity that California might be facing. “All the more reason to work hard on perfecting your—our—retrofit system and getting it on the market fast. There’s not much time, but getting the oldest bridges and overpasses retrofitted could save lives.”

  Peter gazed at her, bursting with admiration. Josie seemed to be more up on the latest earthquake theories than he or Al. And she’d reminded them all of the ultimate purpose of their work. They weren’t working hard only to beat Earthwaves to the market with their product, but to save lives. He glanced at Al, assuming his partner would be equally impressed.

  Al was staring at Josie, all right. But Peter couldn’t read his expression. Al could be pretty enigmatic, and Peter often couldn’t figure out what his partner was thinking. Considering the suspicion he’d expressed earlier about Josie’s loyalty, and knowing Al’s natural cynicism about the milk of human kindness, Peter could make a guess. Al probably thought Josie’s little speech about saving lives was deliberate camouflage—cover for the fact that she was a spy sent from Earthwaves. Peter mentally shrugged. Yeah, that was Al.

  There were reasons for Al’s hard-edged cynicism. His own parents had been indifferent toward their brilliant but nerdy son, always favoring their other son and their daughter, who were more attractive and socially poised. Peter had realized this when he’d met Al’s family over spring break in their freshman year of college. The Mooneys placed a high value on popularity and weren’t impressed with Al’s genius-level brain. Intuiting Al’s sense of rejection, Peter had gone out of his way to support him, to the point of becoming his best friend all through their college years. They shared a love of science and invention, and Peter greatly admired Al’s creative mind. But in social and business matters, Peter had always had to counterbalance his partner’s ineptness and lack of tact.

  The thing was, Al could be right about Josie. No doubt he could see her more objectively than Peter. Hadn’t he warned Peter years ago about Cory? Peter simply was a poor judge of character, particularly when it came to women. He had to remind himself not to be bowled over by Josie’s obvious brainpower and expertise or her elusive but electric sexuality. If a woman could be designed to mesmerize him into letting down his guard, that woman would look, sound, and behave exactly like Josie. Until he met her, Peter had never realized what a mark he could be for a high-strung, brilliant, sexually suppressed, lipstickless beauty.

  Would he be breaking down her barriers? Or would she be invading his?

  3

  LATE THE NEXT EVENING, Josie yawned, bleary-eyed, as she swished an adhesive solution in a beaker. Meanwhile, Peter was at the computer, poring over data. He glanced at her when she yawned a second time.

  “It’s almost midnight, Josie. I think we’ve done enough for today.”

  “There’s so much to do.” She was happy to be helping Peter with his testing crisis, but the task seemed overwhelming.

  “We’ll just keep plugging away,” he said, “and little by little we’ll get it done.” As she got up from her chair, rubbing her eyes, he studied her. “You look awfully tired.”

  “Tension headache,” she said.

  Peter looked at his watch again. “I don’t like the idea of you going home alone so late. If Lansdowne has learned that you’re here, he may arrange for some ‘accident’ at your condo.”

  In fact, Josie had heard from Ronnie that Martin Lansdowne had thrown a tantrum over Josie’s resignation. Ronnie had said Martin had sworn he’d strangle Josie with his own two hands. She hadn’t told Peter about the threat, not wanting to worry him, for he had predicted Martin might come after her, too. She also worried he might think it odd that she was still in contact with an Earthwaves employee. He didn’t know Ronnie, wouldn’t realize Ronnie wasn’t like the others over there.

  “I’ll keep my eyes open,” Josie said, equally concerned.

  “This cottage was built for guests.” He motioned toward the bedroom. “Why don’t you stay here? The bathroom has a shower.”

  The idea took her by surprise. Stay here? Overnight? Alarms bells went off in her brain. “I don’t have anything to sleep in.” It was the first excuse that came to her. “No change of clothes for tomorrow.”

  Peter rolled closer to her. “I have an extra pair of pajamas. They may be a little big, but they’ll do for tonight. In the morning you can run home and bring over some clothes and whatever else you’ll need.”

  “You mean, I should stay here for a while?” Was he serious?

  “Or in the house. There’s an extra bedroom upstairs.”

  Josie almost laughed. “No, no.” Her tone was arch. “If I stay here at all, it would be in this cottage.” She might find him attractive and feel adventurous enough around him to let her sexual feelings be stirred up a bit. But she wasn’t ready to sleep down the hall from him.

  He nodded. “Thought so. I think you’ll be safer here on my property than at your condo.”

  It was late, and the report of Martin saying he’d strangle her played on her mind. She might not fear earthquakes, but her angry former boss, one of those supremely unpredictable males with a potentially violent temper, was another matter. Weighing her options, Josie glanced at the door of the cottage.

  “You can dead-bolt it from the inside. No one can get in, not even me once I give you the key,” Peter assured her, as if anticipating her concerns. “And after my injury, I had an alarm system installed on the grounds, wired into the fence around the whole property.”

  It seemed he’d thought of everything. “What about a toothbrush?” she quipped.

  “Got an ex
tra one of those, too. Dentist handed it to me on my last visit.”

  Josie barely heard his reply as she looked toward the bedroom, weighing his offer. She glanced at the door to the cottage and saw the dead bolt. Realizing that she really did feel uneasy about going back to her empty condo alone at this hour, she said reluctantly, “Okay. I’ll give staying here a try.”

  Ten minutes later, as she was pulling aside the bed’s comforter, he came back from the house with the pajamas and a toothbrush, the latter still in its wrapper. He also brought towels and a fresh bar of soap.

  “Thanks,” she said, coming out of the bedroom to take them.

  He began to wheel backward, to retrace his path through the door, but he paused. “You’ll be okay here? If you need anything, or you’re feeling a little scared in the middle of the night, the phone there connects to the house. Dial 505.”

  His eyes peered up into hers, gentle and concerned. His mouth was slightly open, giving his lips a fuller look. She wondered what that mouth would feel like on her skin….

  “What are you thinking?” His eyes were alight with curiosity.

  “Nothing,” she quickly replied. “I’m all set. I’ll call if I need to, but I don’t think it’ll be necessary. Good night.”

  “‘Night,” he responded.

  But he didn’t make any move to go. He continued to look up at her, as if like her, he’d gotten caught in some reverie of his own. Had he read her mind? His green eyes appeared deep and rich now, darkly mysterious, full of longing. Her heartbeat quickened. Was he thinking and feeling about her the same sorts of things she thought and felt around him? Oh, my God…

  It was all well and good for her to fantasize about him. But the idea of him brewing up a male fantasy about her…well, that was difficult for her to deal with. Being the focus of male desire was just too scary. She’d experienced the effects of male arousal once, and that was enough.

  Nevertheless, even if Peter was capable of feeling sexual desire, he still couldn’t follow through. There was no need to run away from him, Josie reassured herself. And yet, as his gaze held hers, her instincts seemed to be telling her she was playing with fire.

  “Thank you,” she said, hoping the words would prompt him to go.

  He smiled slightly. His eyes flickered and he broke eye contact, taking the hint. As he rolled through the door, he said, “You’re welcome. Come up to the house for breakfast.”

  When he left, Josie dead-bolted the door.

  She went to the bedroom and got ready for bed, aware of her fatigue now that she was alone and no longer had to draw on adrenaline to deal with Peter. She picked up the blue-striped men’s pajama top and felt a bit awed by its large size. She’d noted that Peter was broad-shouldered, but the width of the garment made her inhale suddenly. Growing short of breath, she tried to calmly inhale and exhale. Why was she excited just handling his pajama top, for heaven’s sake? What was the matter with her? If he was wearing it at the moment, that would be different. But she was here alone, her door locked, her windows shuttered, holding a very average-looking men’s cotton pajama top.

  She was beginning to realize just how sexually repressed she’d been. The force of her reawakened sensuality was so strong, it scared her. For years her primary objective had been to stay in firm control of any situation in which she found herself alone with a man, if she couldn’t avoid such a situation altogether. Now she realized she had a new fear—losing control of herself.

  Maybe if she looked upon it as a scientific experiment, she would feel more in charge of herself as she explored these new reactions a little. What would be the harm of trying a few new things? She was alone. No one could see her. No man was around to physically overtake her body—the one thing she’d vowed she’d never allow to happen to her again. She was completely in control, so why not go on a little personal exploratory expedition?

  When she was thirteen, she was great at imagining the perfect guy. Well, she didn’t even have to invent a man anymore. Peter would do just fine. And she had his pajamas to sleep in! This was better than fantasy, she thought, laughing as her anxiety faded.

  Sitting down on the small bed, Josie ignored her rapid pulse and went about the business of unbuttoning the garment. That done, she laid it aside and pulled off the long brown sweater she’d worn all day. She tossed it over the chair nearby. She did the same with her bra.

  Picking up the pajama top, she slid one arm into a long sleeve, and then the other into the second sleeve. She giggled like a young girl when she found that the sleeves covered her hands, so she rolled them up to her wrists. Then she pulled the sides of the garment over her chest and began to button it. As she worked on the button between her breasts, she grew aware of the soft material gliding over her nipples. Her shoulders lifted at the erotic feeling. She began breathing in soft gasps, her anxiety threatening to return. Her hands were shaking, even as she realized her nipples were hardening. She could feel them constricting against the cotton, see their tips pushing against the material in the light from the lamp at the head of the bed. No daydream or fantasy had ever caused her to respond this quickly, or this profoundly.

  Startled by her own body’s reactions, she folded her arms around her waist, but realized she was pulling Peter’s garment even closer. A strange, warm shudder ran through her, a sort of momentary sweet delirium. She closed her eyes as long-buried feelings overtook her.

  When the moment subsided, she stood and pulled off her long skirt. She folded the flowered garment and set it on top of the sweater. Picking up the blue-striped bottoms, she held them against her waist. They were entirely too long and she tossed them onto the floor. She felt more daring just wearing the top, though she left on her panties.

  Moving aside the covers, she got in bed, pulled the sheet and comforter to her chin and shut off the lamp. She closed her eyes, feeling a secret pleasure in doing something new and erotic. This would be nothing for Ronnie, who was into experimenting with things like whipped cream and honey—with a man present in the bed with her. But for Josie, this was a beginning, and no one had to know about it but her.

  As she lay there in the dark, relishing that she was wearing something Peter had slept in, she felt as if every inch of her skin was tingling and alive. She couldn’t escape the feeling even if she shifted, rolled onto her side, or onto her back—which is what made the experience so delicious. Every slide of the material against her nipples caused her to dissolve into a sweet ecstasy of sensations she wasn’t used to, didn’t even know she could have.

  Fantasies of Peter began to plague her, beautiful yet uncontrollable. Snatches of their earthquake conversation came back to her, the sound of his low voice saying words like thrusting. Her trauma from years ago flitted through her mind, but the memories were chased away by the gentleness of Peter’s voice, the knowledge of how her hands had felt enclosed in his, the feel of his warm skin as his arm had slid over her at the computer. Deep, aching longings poured from her soul.

  How would she ever get any sleep tonight? What if she took the pajama top off?

  Then she’d be sleeping in the nude, almost. That seemed a little too daring, something Ronnie would do without thinking twice, but not Josie. This experiment was getting way out of hand. She might be safely alone in a bed, but inside her pulsing body, her brain and her soul were on overload with too much sensory feedback to process and make sense of.

  Oh, why had she agreed to stay here? Why wasn’t she home in her own bed, in her own cotton pajamas?

  IT WAS 9:00 a.m. Peter wondered when Josie was going to come up to the house. He’d already eaten breakfast an hour ago. Growing concerned, he left the house and wheeled himself to the cottage.

  He knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked harder and called her name.

  Finally, the door opened. She stood in front of him, rubbing her eyes, looking as though she’d been rudely awakened from a sound sleep and wasn’t fully awake yet. He also noticed she was wearing his pajamas, minus the bottom
s. Her beautiful legs stunned him. They were long, and slim, with shapely calves, and thighs to die for. Peter had suspected those long skirts of hers were covering a treasure trove. But she was beyond even his imagination, which had been working overtime lately.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, pushing back her delightfully mussed long hair. “What time is it?”

  “Ten after nine.”

  “Oh, my gosh! I couldn’t fall asleep. When I finally did, I guess I sank into a really deep sleep. I’m so sorry. We need to get to work, don’t we?” She pushed the door farther open. “Come on in.”

  Really? Peter didn’t wait to be asked twice and wheeled himself over the threshold. And then, adorably stricken with embarrassment, she glanced down and realized how she was dressed.

  “Oh! I need to—”

  “It’s okay,” he assured her, seeing the panic in her eyes. “You’re all covered up except for your legs. And they’re not hard to look at.”

  Josie’s eyes widened. She turned to run back toward the bedroom—for her clothes, he assumed. But in her rush, her foot caught on the wheel of his chair and she lost her balance. He leaned toward her, caught her in his arms and pulled her into his lap, onto the blanket covering his legs. Peter hoped it wouldn’t occur to her that he needed to use some leg muscles as well as his arms to accomplish this feat.

  “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “Sorry, I’m such a klutz.”

  Immediately, she scrambled to find a way out of his lap. Afraid she was going to jump up and bump into something else in her panicked state, he held her in place, one arm around her shoulders. Quickly, his other hand crossed over her chest to take hold of her arm. Her breast was in the way as he reached for her elbow, and in his rush his hand grazed her body, causing the first button of the pajama top to come undone. All at once he could see smooth, soft cleavage unexpectedly revealed. The inner swells of her breasts bounced as she moved. It was all he could do to keep himself from shoving aside the loose cotton material to see all of her, kiss and caress that creamy skin and get lost in her softness.