Temperature's Rising (v1.1)

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Temperature's Rising (v1.1) Page 8

by Karen Kelley


  The distance between them helped her regain control of her emotions. No man had ever gotten the best of her. She’d be damned if she’d let it happen now. “I’ll be staying for a few days. Get used to it.”

  Ignoring her body when it begged her to stay, she hur ried from the house and climbed into her car. Oh yeah, you’re real cool. Her hand shook so badly she could barely get the key in the ignition.

  As she backed out of the driveway, she glanced one last time at the structure she’d be calling home for no telling how long. She had a lot to do before she set up house with Conor. Gather some clothes. Buy some pajamas. Something with feet and buttons all the way to the neck. That might just keep her out of trouble. And lots of smelly night cream.

  But even if she could get Conor to wear all that, could she resist him. Jessica twisted her button. Lord, she didn’t want to move in with Conor. At least, not in a platonic sense. No, not sexually, either! Did she?

  Yom-da-da-da-da.

  Deep breaths.

  Think calming thoughts.

  She glanced across the street. Hadn’t worked. She still felt like she was strung too tight and might pop any second.

  It was all his fault. “I don’t see why we have to arrive in the same car,” Jessica muttered, keeping to the far side of the passenger seat.

  She’d been sitting a little closer, but with every breath she took, inhaling his musky cologne, naughty thoughts began to intrude into her mind. She didn’t want to have naughty thoughts involving Conor.

  “I thought you said your car was in the shop,” Conor commented.

  “It is.” They had a taxi service in White Plains she could’ve used, though.

  “A taxi would’ve looked a little strange, don’t you think?”

  Great, now he could read her mind. She squirmed in her seat. That was scary. Especially when she found her thoughts wandering more and more to the kisses they’d shared and the way his lips had felt against hers—firm, demanding. And the way his strong arms had pulled her close.

  A delicious shiver wove its way over her body. She wanted more. Why deny it? But then, she wanted a lot of things in life, but that didn’t mean she’d succumb to temptation.

  She really, really needed to stay focused. “Calling a cab didn’t even occur to me.” She’d probably go to hell for lying, too.

  “It looks better for newly weds to arrive together.”

  He was right, of course. Not that she’d admit any such thing.

  “By the way, what’d you tell your boyfriend?”

  She frowned. “Boyfriend?”

  “The guy who picked you up that day in your father’s office.”

  “Al?” She’d never really thought of Al as her boyfriend. “He’s a friend. We date occasionally, but nothing serious. I sold him a property not far from town. I didn’t tell him anything. We don’t keep tabs on each other.” Besides, Al had said he was going on a business trip for a few days.

  “Good, I’d hate to ruin your love life.”

  Yeah, she just bet he would.

  “Home sweet home.” Conor pulled into the driveway.

  The moving truck that had followed with their furniture pulled to the curb. Her father had arranged everything right down to crossing all the t’s and dotting the i’s.

  He’d seemed particularly happy about the whole situa tion. After explaining several times they weren’t really newly weds, and having him brush aside her words, she’d given up. Let him think what he would. Her father didn’t realize she and Conor were on opposite ends of the spectrum. Maybe old age was setting in. She’d have a talk with Gabe after the bad guys were caught. See if he’d noticed anything.

  Conor shut off the engine and climbed out, then leaned back inside. “Dear, are you planning on staying in the car all day?”

  Now he was trying his hand at humor. And there was a decidedly mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Living next door to the suspects didn’t bother her nearly as much as the fact she’d be calling Conor husband for at least the next few days.

  But she wouldn’t let him get the best of her. Smiling sweetly, she gazed adoringly into his face. “It’s much more preferable than spending time with you, darling?“

  Frowning, he darted a look over his shoulder. When he turned back around, she’d already scooted out her side and walked to the back of the car, waiting for him to unlock the trunk. Which he did, but before she could grab her suitcase, he brushed her hand aside. Grunting, he hauled her large bag out of the back. It was three times the size of his.

  “What the hell did you pack in here, anyway?”

  Protection, she thought to herself. A smile curved the corners of her mouth. She glanced up with feigned innocence. “Just a few toiletries.”

  “The toilet and the bathroom sink,” he grumbled under his breath as he lugged their suitcases toward the house, but she caught what he’d said and her grin widened.

  Conor would be a distraction, but she could get around that as long as she kept reminding herself why she was here. For her father’s sake, she had to ignore the strange little tremors that erupted inside her every time he came near. Or that he’d managed to make her body hunger for more than just one kiss.

  Her father had been chief too long to lose his job now. After her mother died, he’d poured everything into his job and two children. She’d been four and Gabe eight. Family and work had become his life. And if he’d never really forgotten her mother’s death, at least he’d made peace. No matter what Conor said or did, she would help her father.

  She pulled her thoughts back to the present, glancing at the men unloading the furniture. Undercover officers. Two of her cousins. She stared as if she hadn’t seen them before. Funny, she’d never noticed how handsome Jimmy and Lucas were. And both single. Lucas glanced her way and winked. A real heartthrob. Who did she know… Jeez! She was as bad as the rest of her matchmaking family. Neither Lucas nor Jimmy needed her help finding a wife.

  “We might as well do this right.” Conor emerged from the house, her suitcase having been placed inside.

  “Do what right?” She pulled her attention away from her cousins.

  “This.”

  He scooped her up before she could protest. Her arms automatically went around his neck, putting her in even closer contact with his hard body. She wondered if the sudden dizziness washing over her was from being lifted up or being in his arms.

  She was so close she could see flecks of gold in his green eyes—the way they dilated when he met her gaze, so close their noses almost touched, so close she inhaled the minty freshness of his breath. A few inches and she’d be able to taste his lips, feel the heat as his tongue ravaged her mouth. She drew in a shuddering breath.

  “Put me down,” she whispered frantically. It wasn’t natural for her to feel this surge of desire when he touched her. Not when she didn’t even like the man.

  “The curtain next door moved. We’re being watched,” Conor said, his breath tickling her ear with each word he spoke. She leaned closer. Then realized what he’d said. He cradled her in his arms because someone watched, not because he wanted her there.

  Her cousins’ snickers effectively grounded her the rest of the way. She knew exactly what the topic of conversation would be at the next family gathering. Didn’t Conor know his actions were only making her life miserable?

  Yes, he probably did. He’d made no secret about not wanting her there. And she hadn’t seen any movement at the window. Her eyes narrowed. Was this his game? Scare her off with blatant flirting?

  “We’re newly weds, remember,” he stated as if he sensed her disbelief. “Isn’t this customary?”

  She studied his look of innocence for a long minute. Okay, so maybe her imagination had gone into overdrive, and she was reading too much into his actions.

  He strolled inside as if she weighed no more than a box of cartridges. She noticed he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go.

  “You smell nice, by the way.” His voice turned husky
. “That scent suits you.”

  His words sent a shiver of longing over her, and when he released her, he did it in a way that pressed her body intimately against his. She longed for more… to caress with her hands, to test each sinewy muscle beneath her fingers.

  A noise from outside brought her back to her senses.

  She stepped out of his reach, legs trembling. Damn it, he was doing it again.

  “If you think you’re going to run me off, think again.” She’d meant her words to be harsh, but they sounded more breathy than anything.

  He probably thought she was pathetic. That she’d even enjoyed being carried inside. Okay, she might have liked the strong feel of his arms wrapped around her, and the way he’d cuddled her close to his hard muscles, but she wouldn’t give in to the temptation of Conor Richmond.

  Grunting and groaning from the doorway drew her attention.

  What was her cousins’ problem? Lucas grumbled to himself as he struggled with his end of the mattress. He scrunched and mashed while Jimmy shoved from outside, trying to make it fit through the doorway. Good grief, couldn’t they carry in a stupid mattress?

  It burst through and popped back into shape. Her eyes widened. This was taking things too far. Had Conor been instrumental in this? His tactics hadn’t worked a minute ago and they wouldn’t work now. When she glared at him, he only raised his eyebrows. Her cousins’ laughter didn’t help matters.

  “There isn’t a darn thing funny about this. Of all the juvenile stunts! A heart-shaped mattress? I would’ve thought you had a little more imagination.”

  Conor shook his head. “Hey, this wasn’t my idea. Blame someone else for the sense of humor.”

  “I’m not laughing,” she ground out, her gaze swinging to her cousins.

  They held up their hands at the same time, then grabbed for the falling mattress. “Not us. We swear, cuz.” Lucas grinned from ear to ear, then nodded toward her. “Don’t twist your button off, squirt.”

  She frowned and clasped her hands together in front of her. Damn nervous habit.

  If not them, and not Conor, then who? Her father could’ve sent the mattress. No, surely not. She glared at the monstrosity dominating the hall. Angie? No… well… maybe. She glanced at Conor again.

  He shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I don’t have any idea.”

  She shook her head. This was ridiculous. The whole situation was ridiculous. This was a stakeout, not a love nest.

  As her cousins dragged the mammoth mattress upstairs, she turned on Conor. “It doesn’t matter who sent it. The only thing that’ll happen in that bed is sleep,” she whispered furiously.

  “Positive?” He casually leaned against the wall, cross ing his arms.

  She scowled. “Positive.”

  So that was the game he played. A game of seduction so he could run her off. Humph. Like she would fall for that trick. It did make her wonder just how far he would take it.

  Tantalizing images played across her mind. Conor tug ging a black T-shirt over his head, skin oiled down and glistening in the muted light, but not so muted she couldn’t see every bulging muscle.

  Her mouth went dry as the image grew stronger.

  He’d fling the shirt away and slowly undo his tight jeans. First the top button, then he’d slide the zipper down, hook his fingers in the waistband and begin pushing his jeans over his hips.

  “You okay?” Conor asked.

  The vision vanished. She blinked several times. He was fully dressed. She’d hoped for a moment… It didn’t matter. They would just see who could turn up the heat until the other cried uncle.

  She, after all, was a Nelson, and Nelsons didn’t play fair.

  “I’m perfectly fine… thank you very much.” She squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. He wasn’t about to run her off.

  Chapter 7

  Someone had a warped sense of humor. Jessica helped with unpacking boxes and putting away stuff, and with each box she died just a little more. There was a small box of cinnamon-scented candles and glass holders to place the votives in. That wasn’t so bad. It was the way they were decorated. Little golden Cupids with little bows and arrows, all in the shape of little hearts. They were disgustingly cute.

  Then her cousins had lugged in a plush love seat that could only be meant for snuggling. They didn’t even dare look her way when they added heart pillows.

  And really! A white, faux bearskin rug? She could see herself and Conor wrapped in each other’s arms in front of a roaring fire with the temperature outside pushing ninety degrees. It wouldn’t be the sweat of passion rolling down their faces.

  She leaned against the banister as her gaze moved toward the rug. The bear’s mouth was locked open, teeth bared. Her vision blurred and for just a moment she could imagine Conor lying naked on the white fur, leaning back on his elbow with one knee bent. His skin sleek and tanned. Her gaze moved slowly over him, her mouth going dry. He wouldn’t even try to hide all his… glorious… uh… attributes.

  A bead of sweat slid down her face and into the vee of her blouse, tickling her breasts as it slipped between them.

  She drew in a shaky breath, realizing her hands were caressing the knob of the newel post.

  “Oh, now that’s sick,” she told herself.

  When she looked back up, the vision had vanished. Disappointment flooded her. She even took a step toward the stupid rug, as if that would make her wanton image materialize once again.

  Damn, it didn’t. Even so, it took a few more minutes to cool down.

  Her eyes narrowed. Whoever set them up had put a lot of thought into their planning, but it wouldn’t work. She’d resist. It was the only choice she had. She stiffened her spine and returned to unpacking boxes.

  It didn’t take long to empty the truck, since the bigger appliances came with the house. Other than what they’d already unloaded, there were a couple of armchairs, a dresser for the bedroom, table and chairs for the kitchen, and some boxes of dishes, along with other odds and ends. Before she knew it, Lucas and Jimmy were gone.

  They were alone.

  Just the two of them.

  She and Conor.

  Jessica covertly glanced in Conor’s direction. Instead of making a smart remark about some of the stuff they’d unloaded, he turned and strode toward the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “I’m starved. Do you think they might have stocked the refrigerator?”

  Food? At a time like this? How could he think about his stomach? She braced her hands on her hips, staring at his retreating back. They’d be practically living as man and wife for who knows how long, and all he could think about was eating? She certainly had other things on her mind.

  She squeezed her eyes shut as the rug and a nude Conor invaded her thoughts. No, not that. She wasn’t thinking about sex. The burglars—that’s what had skipped across her mind.

  Right, and if a frog had wings he wouldn’t bump his butt when he hopped.

  Laughter came from the kitchen, drawing her attention. She hadn’t thought Conor the type of man who laughed. He’d been too serious the day he’d arrested her. So what did he find so damn funny all of a sudden? It certainly wasn’t a heart-shaped refrigerator. She’d seen the kitchen.

  Proceeding cautiously, she eased down the hall and through the open doorway. Her gaze swept the room. The kitchen was large with a long row of white cabinets. A wooden table and four matching chairs were by a window looking out into the backyard. Most of the house next door was also visible.

  In the center of the room was an island with a chopping block and small chrome sink. Above that, one of the guys had hung copper pans.

  Shivers ran up and down her arms. It felt too warm and cozy, too .. homey, but it looked just as it had earlier. At least, nothing seemed out of place.

  The stove was to her left, then a span of counter. At the end of the counter was the refrigerator. Conor leaned against the open door with a smirky grin on his face. The kind of smile that said she wouldn’t li
ke what he was looking at any more than she had liked the love seat built for two or the bearskin rug. Okay, maybe she hadn’t minded looking at the bearskin rug—drooling, salivating, slobbering…

  So what had he found that could be so funny? She met his gaze. Laughter twinkled in his eyes. She had to admit, she rather liked this lighter side of him. As long as she didn’t have to shove his grin down his throat. She edged closer and leaned around him, peering inside.

  “I see they sent the staples,” she commented dryly. “Champagne, oysters, chocolate, and strawberries.” If she ever found out who did this…

  A frown wrinkled her brow as her suspicion grew. She reached past Conor and picked up one of the foil-wrapped chocolates, unwrapped it, and bit into the candy, taking half into her mouth.

  Wonderful. She closed her eyes for a moment of heav enly delight as she took pleasure in the burst of raspberry flavor that shot out. When Conor’s hand circled her wrist, her eyes flew open. Slowly he brought the rest of the candy toward him. Their gazes locked.

  Some of the creamy, soft center had dribbled down the side of her finger. His tongue licked, scooping the gooey, rich candy into his mouth. He closed his eyes as if savoring the taste.

  A slow, aching need started in her belly, trembled down her legs, and curled her toes.

  He opened his eyes, then brought her hand to his mouth again—and stole the rest of the candy.

  “That”—she cleared her throat—”was mine.”

  “But since we’re going to be living together, we’ll have to learn to compromise… and to share.”

  “I don’t like sharing.”

  He leaned closer. So close she could smell the raspberry on his breath. She had an incredible urge to taste him. She already enjoyed kissing him, but mix the flavor of chocolate and raspberries and man… you couldn’t ask for more than that, except maybe if you threw in a heart-shaped bed draped in silk sheets.

  Without thinking, she leaned a little closer, so close she could almost feel the heat of his lips against hers. His fingers lightly stroked hers, causing the embers inside her to glow.

 

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