by Caro LaFever
“She spouts another fact at me.” With a swift move, he encircled her with his body, his arms coming around her, his hands taking hers. “Okay, Ginger Snap. We’ll do this together.”
The feel of him caught her by surprise. The heat of his torso and the taut strength of his legs on hers, made her restless. The rangy length of his arms with their sprinkle of dark hair grazing his forearms, reminded her of his essential masculinity. Tough, agile hands took hers, placing them around the dangerous blade with confidence.
“Ready?” he murmured in her hair.
She took in a quick, sharp breath before saying, “Together we can do anything.”
“Even tackle the impenetrable test of dicing an onion and a garlic bulb.”
Their hands together chopped the onion in half. “See?” he said. “That wasn’t too bad.”
Chuckling, she elbowed him in the stomach. “As if that’s anything.”
“It’s a start.”
Their hands chopped again. Then again. By the time the onion lay in a heap of white pieces, she was beginning to pick up his confidence. “We did it.”
“Now, to the fabled garlic bulb.”
Laughing at the mock-serious note in his voice, she grabbed the herb and placed it before them. “We can do this.”
“We so can.” The mocking tone fell from his voice, leaving behind only thoughtful deliberation. “If I remember correctly, my mamá always said to mince the cloves into very tiny pieces for the best result.”
She shot a look at his profile. This close, it struck her again how luxurious and lavish his lashes were, as well as his eyebrows. Midnight black, they both held a hint of curl, yet managed to still cut a clean, clear line of boldness on his face.
“Problem?” His gaze latched onto hers.
“No.” Swinging her focus back to the task at hand, she smiled, imagining a young boy standing in the middle of a kitchen filled with chattering women. Listening and learning. “Mince.”
“Yeah.” He came closer, his body curving around hers. “First, you need to peel it.”
“Me?” Settling into the feeling of him surrounding her, she realized she liked it. A lot. “Why me?”
“Because you peel. I smash.”
A bubble of a chuckle escaped her. “Typical. I do the hard work, you get to do the fun work.”
“Smashing is fun, huh?”
Jess felt his smile on the side of her face. “Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll peel.” His quick, clever hands did just that, making the whole thing look easy. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Smash with what?”
“Your hand.” Grabbing hers, he covered it with his own. “Here. We’ll do it together.”
The bulb crumbled into pieces.
“My mamá did let me do this part,” he said with satisfaction. “These are called cloves.”
“I know that.” Tentatively, she swished her finger through the pieces. “I have grown up in hotels that employ dozens of chefs.”
“No getting touchy with your partner,” he tut-tutted, a light playfulness lying on his words. “We’ve come this far together, we can’t stop now.”
Soon, the garlic and onion simmered in the saucepan, and they had a dozen tomatoes in front of them. Even when he’d shifted to start the stove, he hadn’t let her slide away to a safer spot. And stupidly, she hadn’t insisted. This closeness made a well of happiness seep inside her, and she didn’t want to let it go.
Not yet. Not quite yet.
“Tomatoes next.” Stepping behind her once more, he took up the knife. “This time we can have some fun.”
“We haven’t been having fun so far?”
He flashed her a quick grin. “You’re right. We’ve been having fun the entire day, haven’t we?”
It hit her they had. In fact, she hadn’t had this much fun, this much freedom in so long, she couldn’t remember the last time it had happened. If it had ever happened. “Nick?”
“Yeah?” His voice came close to her ear, rumbling through her like a low, slow-coming earthquake.
She wanted to see his eyes when she confessed. She wanted to see if he understood how precious this gift he’d given was to her. Glancing back at him, she caught his gaze. “Thanks.”
His expression turned curious. “Thanks?”
“For today.” Pushing herself, she kept going. “For all of today.”
For a moment, she thought he didn’t get it. The blue of his eyes didn’t change, his mouth only quirked. But then a light sprung into the center of that blue and filled it with understanding. “What did I tell you?”
She frowned in puzzlement.
“I said you’ll like the feeling of being free.”
Swinging around to face the cutting board and the tomatoes, the rate of her heart escalated until it was battering her chest. “I remember.”
Silence came from behind her before his body encircled her once more, making her jump. “Jessie.”
“Um.” She grabbed a tomato and rolled it in her hands, trying to pretend nonchalance. Trying to pretend he hadn’t shot a bullet of realization straight into the depths of her.
She did like freedom.
She liked the feel of the wind hitting her face. She liked knowing this man held her safe while she took her first steps into this new experience. She liked the newness of what he introduced her to; the people, the food, the experiences.
“Hey, it’s okay to take a chance.” His mouth whispered along her neck.
“I know,” she muttered.
Except she didn’t know. Not really. For her whole life, she’d played it safe. Sure, she’d gone to college and graduate school. Yes, she’d climbed her way up the McDowell chain of command, not just using her name, but her talents, too. Yet, all along, she’d never risked anything important and vital. She’d never exposed herself to the possibility of failure or defeat.
His hips nudged hers, bring her back to reality with a breathless thump.
He was erect underneath his jeans.
“Hey, cowboy.” She’d been clear through these last days—no sex. Not that she didn’t want him. But it was the cautious piece of her heart that told her she’d already fallen so far and fast for this man that if she took this step, she might give him all of herself.
He hummed on her skin in a seductive reply and kept brushing his mouth on her neck.
She suddenly wished she hadn’t insisted on putting her hair up again. The strands would have protected her from his appeal. Or maybe not. Knowing him as well as she did, he would have found some way to touch her and make her tremble.
“Nick.”
A soft sigh came from him. “You distract me.”
“I don’t mean to.”
His body tensed for a moment as if she’d hit him. Then, he eased away a bit, keeping her lightly in his grasp but not luring her with his touch any longer. “I know. That’s the problem.”
“The problem?” She swiveled her head to meet his troubled gaze. “I don’t understand.”
His celestial eyes were cloudy, shadowing the blue with dark edges of gray. “You’re so innocent.”
Sure, she’d bet this man had far more experience than she. How could he not? He was astonishingly attractive, smooth and charming, and he also happened to have a fortune. Just because he had more experience, though, didn’t mean she was a naïve girl who couldn’t handle him. Turning around completely in his arms, she planted her hands on his chest. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” His eyes dipped to her mouth, but she still saw the trouble in their depths.
“I’m not an innocent little virgin.”
Hs gaze flashed up to meet hers. “I didn’t mean it that—”
“Just because I said no sex right now, doesn’t mean I can’t handle you in bed.” Irritation bubbled as the words tumbled from her mouth.
“No sex right now?” The shadows cleared from his eyes. “Well, that gives me hope, since there’s always the next minute to look forward to.”
“Don’t make fun of me.” She slapped an impatient hand on his chest, and even though she was distracted by her exasperation, she still noted the hard planes of his pectorals underneath the simple cotton T-shirt he wore. “Don’t underestimate me.”
“As if that were a possibility.” The curl of his smile turned up one side of his mouth. “I haven’t underestimated you since the moment I met you.”
She eyed him, something about his expression catching her attention. “But you did before you met me, didn’t you?”
The curl on his lips disappeared.
“Didn’t you?” She kept coming at him.
“Now who’s being demanding?” Abruptly, he stepped back from their embrace and dropped his hands to his sides.
Jess sensed this was a moment she couldn’t lose. Not if she wanted more with this man. And she did. She’d admit that to herself at this point. She wanted more. One long step brought her right back into his personal space. Latching onto the collar of his T-shirt, she tugged him near. “Didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did. So what?” With a hard yank, he pulled away, almost ripping himself from her. He strode through the archway into the dining room.
She followed, a mixture of irritation, curiosity, and lust making her sway on her feet for a second. But she was close here, she knew it. “Tell me.”
His back was to her and he appeared like he was his usual self—poised and polished. However, the angle of his head told her he wasn’t. It also told her she’d come to know Nick Townsend well.
“Tell you what?” He flicked a finger on his leg as if he wanted to swat her away like a pestering bug. “I knew about you before I met you? Sí, I did.”
“No, not that. About my father and the hotels.”
The line of his shoulders went taut and something deep inside her shook with dread.
“Okay.” Swiveling, he met her gaze, the blue of his own blank. “I’ll tell you.”
Jess braced for hurt. Because she was certain that was what was coming her way.
He took in a choppy breath. “Here’s what—”
A shrieking alarm wailed from behind her. Both of them stilled.
“¿Qué demonios?” With an abrupt jerk, he strode past her into the kitchen. “Fuck.”
A tell-tale smell told her what had happened before she even followed him. Twists of smoke billowed from the stove, explaining why the alarm kept blasting its warning.
“Fuck,” he said again as he yanked the simmering pan off the heat. “Jodio todo. Dios joder al infierno.”
The anger in his voice was real, but for some reason, it wasn’t the same kind of anger she’d shied away from in the desert or outside this house’s front door. Leaning on the arch, she tried to stifle her amusement.
“¿Qué carajo estaba pensando?” He dumped the smoking ruins of the garlic and onion into the sink. “Soy un idiota de mierda.”
After dispensing with their ruined dinner, he marched to the alarm box, switched off the buzzer and then headed for the windows. She assumed he meant to open them and let out some of the smoke. He was unbearably…cute. Adorable in his disgust at himself. Alluring in the lack of his usual charm.
A snicker escaped her.
He paused, the long length of him freezing. Jess took the second to drink him in. The short black hair with its slight curl along the line of his ears. The rangy body, tight with tension, yet holding an element of his essential dancer’s grace. The way the simple T-shirt and jeans and bare feet made him seem entirely approachable, but with that undertone of ruthlessness she’d detected so early in their relationship still simmering below the façade.
“¿Qué?” He jerked around, a harsh scowl on his face. “¿Estás riendo en esta situación?”
“Ah, cowboy.” Letting the smothered grin grow, she yanked his chain. “I don’t speak Spanish.”
Prowling toward her, his scowl grew fierce. “Then maybe you’ll understand this.”
Before she could escape, he had her.
In his arms, in his grasp, his mouth on hers
Chapter 19
He’d kissed Jessie before. He’d tasted the inside of her mouth and felt the touch of her tongue. He’d sipped in the sweet girl and the sassy woman. Yet, even with the frustration and anger rushing through his blood, he immediately sensed the difference.
No longer tentative. No longer cautious. Instead, she took.
Him.
Him and his mouth. Took in the fury he’d held inside for as long as he could remember. She took it all and more.
“Jessie,” Nick groaned, lifting her long, lovely body and swinging it around. In two swift strides, he’d placed her on the granite counter. Dimly, he noticed the lingering smell of smoke wafting around them and the slow sizzle of the burning food in the sink.
None of it mattered.
Only her.
That wide mouth of hers sucked on his lips making him feel as if he were about to float above the Painted Lady and fly away into the stars. She’d made him agree not to talk about sex or initiate it, and he knew deep in his brain what he was doing was wrong.
But it didn’t matter.
Only Jessie.
“Te necesito,” he murmured, as he dragged his mouth along the edge of hers. Sí, he needed her. He had to have her. “Por favor.”
Please.
Please let me have you.
Please forgive me for what I’m doing to you. Lying to you. Cheating you.
He stuffed the knowledge down, deep inside, where he kept memories of his elemental ugliness hidden. The memories of stealing and lying. Of the disappointment of his mamá and pa. Memories of cheating to survive and running from any responsibilities.
It didn’t matter.
His hands swept over her jeans-clad legs, taking in the strength of her thighs and dreaming of them encircling him and pulling him in farther. His fingers crawled along the edge of her simple T-shirt, going under to touch the heated silk of her skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” she moaned.
Edgy delight swept through him, pushing him to act right away. But something deep inside told him to cherish this, take his time with her. Taking a precious moment and taking a chance that he was right about the timing, he looked into her eyes. “You are, too.”
The green had flooded her irises, turning the blue to azure and the brown to pure gold. At his words, her eyes widened. “I don’t think—”
“You are to me. Beautiful, bold Jessie.”
“Really?” One of her blushes swept across her skin, enchanting him. “You really think so?”
“Sí, eres tan hermosa.” Leaning closer, he stroked both hands down her supple back. He knew what he needed to do, although he didn’t want to. But for once in his sorry life, he was going to do what was right. “I know what you want me to do right now.”
“Do you?” Her fingers fiddled with the ends of his hair and his ear, making him shiver. “I doubt it.”
“You want me to back off.” He didn’t, though he resigned himself to the reality of her soon-to-be rejection. “I’m violating our agreement.”
An agreement she’d made a point of reinforcing over and over during the last three days. Friends and partners, she’d reiterated, until he wanted to throw those words out of the English vocabulary. Although he liked having her as a friend and a partner.
That reality still stunned him.
She was his friend. And she was a very good partner.
As well as his love.
But not his lover. Not yet. Taking that knowledge and wrapping it around his lust, he started to pull away.
With a swift move that caught the breath in his lungs, she slipped her hands under his shirt and planted them on his stomach. Then her long legs slinked around his hips effectively holding him captive. “I guess I’m violating it, too, huh?”
“Sí.” All muddled thoughts, fuzzy principles, and chaotic resolve fled when she spread her fingers on his abdomen, drifting them down past his navel to the wais
t of his jeans. “Jessie?”
A fiendish giggle made his head spin. Two of her fingers slid under to touch the edge of his underwear, so close to his other head, straining for her attention.
“Ah,” he gusted out a breath.
She gave him another giggle before she touched the aching tip of his cock held prisoner by the cotton of his boxers.
“That’s it.” Lifting her off the counter, his hands tightened on her ass. “You had your chance, but it’s gone at this point.”
“I doubt it.” Her gaze met his, and her arms went around his neck in a firm grip. “I think I just got my chance, actually.”
A final, lingering worry flitted through his mind. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” A soft confession that turned his heart into a whirling jumble of joy. “I’m sure.”
The worry pumped in him again, although he tried to ignore it. “Yeah?”
“Hmm.” Her fingers tangled in his hair, and her eyelids fell, so he only saw a slice of inside her.
“You need to understand this is only about you and me.” His grasp tightened, hopefully letting her know he meant this with every atom of his being. “Only us.”
“McDowell and Townsend.”
He laughed, releasing his misgivings and hefting her closer, before heading out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. “Townsend and McDowell.”
“Whatever.” Her touch smoothed across his shoulders and her calves moved over his ass, butting her center right into his aching cock. “Let’s focus on something else.”
“Okay.” He sighed at the sensation of her heat on him. “Let’s.”
“I want to do this in my bedroom, not yours.”
“Why?” Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he strode up the narrow stairway, barely missing the line of pastel landscapes as they passed. Not that he cared about the landscapes or where their bodies landed. All he cared about was seeing this woman naked and getting inside her. “Does it matter?”
Her wispy red brows arched. “Of course it matters where we make love for the first time.”
The word went through him…love. He thought she might retract it, yet her gaze didn’t waver, and her eyes didn’t grow wary. In fact, she stared at him, as if daring him to question her on that…one…word.