All Worked Up

by Cathryn Fox

  “I don’t know. I guess it’s because you look like a drowned cat.”

  “Thanks,” she shot back and tried to smooth her hair from her face. “I’m glad I could amuse you with my appalling state.”

  “Not appalling. Adorable.”

  “Oh.” Inexplicably, something in the way he said “adorable” brought warmth to her face, not to mention one other part of her body.

  He thinks I’m adorable.

  With the back of his hand, he wiped perspiration from his brow. She took pleasure in the sexy shift of his muscles and the heat in his dark eyes as they raked over her. Fire whipped through her veins and she dropped deeper into the water, a futile attempt to tamp down the flames.

  “Here give me your hand. Let me help you.”

  As he reached for her and she saw those big, strong callused hands of his, she did a quick tally. One, it was his fault she’d faltered in the first place. Two, he did get to see her all wet and aroused. And three, he too looked like he could use a little cooling off.

  His palm closed over hers and he gave slight tug. She in turn braced her feet, gave a tug of her own and stepped aside as he came crashing into the water next to her.

  A moment later he found his footing and stood. His gaze locked on hers and he wiped the water from his eyes. “What the hell—?”

  His voice fell off and she guessed he’d read her desire, taking note of the way she was looking at him with longing in her eyes. Water dripped down his chest and she practically salivated, aching to trail those tiny droplets with the tip of her tongue. The cool water settled just above his waistband, prohibiting her from seeing the wet outline of his cock. She swallowed and resisted the urge to dive under the surface for a glimpse. Jesus, she couldn’t believe how lusty her thoughts had turned. A result of no sex for the last few months, she supposed.

  She did a brief perusal of the area. All was quiet. Not a runner to be found. When she turned back to him, he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, drinking in the refreshing splashes of Blueberry Lake from his mouth. Her gaze centered on his luscious lips and her libido roared for attention, demanding she do something about her sex life or lack thereof.

  Maybe one little kiss, one quick romp in the water would help clear her head. Heck, it wasn’t in her nature to just jump into bed with a man—a stranger, at that—and she could hardly believe the direction her brain had gone. After all, she didn’t even know his name. Then again, maybe that was a good thing. He was nearly finished with the job at the inn and come nightfall she’d never set eyes on him again. Tomorrow she’d be refreshed and ready to go back to celibate Candace, no one the wiser that she’d gotten a little sidetracked.

  He must have read her mind. His eyes darkened and turned serious. She watched his throat work as he swallowed, and he moved a measured step closer. As his body loomed over hers, he dipped his head and for a brief moment she thought he was going to kiss her. He reached out and pushed her hair off her face. She tipped her head to meet his gaze, and when a low moan rose up from her throat, something flashed in his eyes and he hesitated. A second later he gave his head a brisk shake, as if to clear it. Then he took a distancing step back and walked to the embankment.

  What the heck?

  “So we’re even then?” Even though he’d tried for light, she could hear the underlying lust in his voice.

  “Even? Why would we be even?”

  “You said it was my fault you fell into the lake. I can only assume that’s why you pulled me in here with you. To square things up? A little tit for tat?” When she didn’t respond, he turned to her. “Wasn’t that your reason, Candace?”

  “Yeah, that was my reason.” One of many, but he didn’t need to know that just yet. Then something else occurred to her and she tightened, memories of the threatening letters filling her thoughts. Suddenly feeling very foolish and very vulnerable, she questioned, “How do you know my name?”

  Without missing a beat he said, “I heard your friends call out to you. Earlier, at the inn.”

  “Oh, right.” She’d forgotten he was within earshot when Lindsay and Anna had greeted her as she stretched on the front lawn.

  “I’m Marc. Marc Collins.” He held his hand out, and as she shook it, she studied him a moment. Good guys were rare, but something in her gut told her Marc Collins just might be one of them, not that she’d always been such a great judge of character. But he had a strength of character about him, unlike the men she usually found herself attracted to. It also occurred to her that he gave off a protective vibe, making her feel absurdly safe with him. Truthfully, there was something about this man. Something trustworthy and fiercely protective that put her at ease.

  Intuition told her she had nothing to fear from him. That he was a gentleman, a man of integrity. She considered things a minute longer. Marc was a paint stripper hired by Pamina, not some aspiring actor using her to get close to her father—heck he didn’t even respond to her advances, which proved he was different from any other man she’d ever met. And the painstaking care he took with his work proved he was a skilled laborer.

  Candace was pretty damn certain he didn’t know who she was. Was there a chance there could be something more between them, that he could like her for who she really was, not for her daddy’s power and influence? Damned if she didn’t want to find out. But sadly, he hadn’t tried to hit on her. Even when presented with the opportunity.

  That was definitely something she’d have to rectify.

  * * *

  Marc mentally gave himself a good hard scolding and lectured himself on keeping his hands off her, despite the sexual sparks arcing between them. What the hell had he been thinking? He’d nearly kissed her. Thank God common sense had dictated, and sound reason found its way back into his brain before he did something he’d regret later. Yeah, later. Because he certainly wouldn’t regret it while he was doing it with her. Oh no. Not at all. If he had her in his arms, he’d enjoy every damn minute of it. Exploring that curvaceous body of hers, kissing that lush mouth, running his thumbs and his tongue over her gorgeous pink nipples. Yeah, he’d glimpsed those pert buds through her track jacket. All hard and swollen and begging for his mouth.

  His cock swelled almost painfully, and he shifted to hide his arousal. Marc clenched his jaw to stifle a moan and moved to the embankment. He turned to her. “Need a hand?”

  Her eyes snapped up, as if she too had been lost in thought. “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  She climbed from the water and he followed behind her. She grabbed her iPod, murmured something under her breath about it being ruined, and walked to the running track. When she reached the trail, she turned to him, soaking wet. A cool fall breeze blew over them and she gave a slight shiver. As he took in the bedraggled sight of her, his protective instincts kicked into high gear. Sure he was a security specialist, a bodyguard for a living, but whatever had suddenly come over him went deeper than that. Candace was strong and capable, but there was a guarded vulnerability in her eyes that really got to him. Had she been hurt in the past?

  She jerked her thumb toward the inn. “I need to head back.”

  “I’m with you on that.”

  Candace scanned the length of him, then her eyes widened, almost apologetically. “I never thought. You probably don’t have a change of clothes with you.”

  “I do. In my van. I come equipped.” He neglected to tell her that his van also came equipped with a security camera, recording their actions even now, as they stood there staring at each other.

  She exhaled a relieved breath and began to make her way back. “Good. I’d hate to cost you a day’s work by having you go home to change.”

  Jesus, how refreshing. Marc was used to hanging around pampered movie stars who didn’t give a rat’s ass if their actions resulted in him losing a day’s work. Candace really was different from those divas. She seemed so natural, so down to earth.

  Marc hurried his steps to catch up and decided to probe for information. If he was going to
protect her without her knowledge, he needed to know more about her.

  “How long have you been a designer?”

  “Officially for about five years now. Although, in reality more like twenty-five.”

  “Twenty-five?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, Lindsay, Anna and I have been tearing our rooms apart and putting them back together since we were kids.”

  Testing her, he said, “Your mom and dad must have loved that.”

  She hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Oh, they sure did. I can’t tell you how many times they grounded me until I put everything in order again.”

  The fact that she included her father in the picture didn’t elude him. “Tell me, Candace, what do you do for fun in Mason Creek?”

  “You mean you’re not from around here?”

  Damn. So much for blending in as a local and keeping his cover. It was a small town, yet still big enough that not everyone knew everyone else. “I’m new in town. Been sleeping in my van until my new shop is ready.” He resisted the urge to cringe at his bold-faced lie.

  “New shop?”

  “Yeah, new workshop,” he said, not bothering to elaborate.

  “Your parents aren’t from around here?”

  “No. We’re from the city.” He neglected to tell her which city.

  “Relatives?”

  “No.”

  “Then what brings a city boy to Mason Creek?”

  He gestured toward his van. “Work. So you never did tell me what you do around here for fun.”

  Ignoring his comment, she said, “Maybe once we get the inn finished, you’ll be able to get a room until your place is ready.” She crinkled her nose and her green eyes glistened in the sunlight. “On the other hand, maybe it’s not such a great idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I never thought to consider—”

  “Consider what?”

  “That any of the rooms would appeal to you.”

  He furrowed his brow, confused. “Why wouldn’t they appeal to me?”

  “It’s just that, well, we’re designing fantasy-inspired theme rooms.”

  That took him by surprise. “Really?”

  Candace grinned. “Yeah, really.”

  “You mean to tell me Pamina hired you to create sex rooms?”

  She nodded and chuckled lightly, obviously enjoying the easy flow of conversation as much as he was. “I know. Who would have thought? She doesn’t seem the type, does she?”

  Suddenly intrigued, he said, “Speaking of types, tell me more about these rooms and exactly what you’re planning on doing with yours.”

  3

  Oh God, she was smitten.

  As they walked back to the inn, she described with both enthusiasm and detail how she wanted to create a room designed for stamina to accommodate the actively inclined. With genuine interest, Marc listened to her ramble on, and she really liked that about him. Most men couldn’t care less about what she had to say and would tune her out whenever she talked about her work. But not Marc. He really paid attention to every detail, even asking intelligent questions, making her wonder if he had a background in design.

  She enjoyed talking to him, and it occurred to her that they had a lot in common, a lot of similar interests. Candace appreciated the way his dark passionate eyes widened with intrigue and fascination as she described her concepts, and the way that nice mouth of his turned up at the corners when he smiled or probed for more information. He was strong and protective and so damn adorable, it had her feeling all weird inside. Just being in his presence, standing close to that hewn body of his, had her all worked up.

  They reached the house and Marc glanced at her clothes. “I guess you’d better get changed.”

  She perused his now-dry chest, and as her fingers tingled with longing to touch him, she resisted the urge to run her hands along his body.

  “You too.” Except neither made a move to go. They both stood there, enjoying the conversation and the easy intimacy blossoming between them.

  Just then Pamina stepped outside and made her way toward them, her long, lithe body practically floating over the walkway. She called out to Candace as she approached.

  Candace grabbed her ponytail to wring it out. As water slid down her chest, Marc cleared his throat and took a step back. “It looks like you’re needed, and you’d better get changed. You’re dripping.”

  Oh, he had no idea.

  Candace nodded and could barely pull her focus away as he made his way to his van. Pamina touched her on the arm. “I see you’ve met Marc.”

  Before Candace could respond, Pamina’s fat cat Abra jumped into Candace’s arms and licked a water droplet off her chest.

  “Whoa,” Candace said as his wet scratchy tongue pulled her thoughts back.

  “Abra,” Pamina admonished and tapped him on the nose, a gentle reproach. “You keep that up and you’ll never convince me you’ve changed your ways.”

  As Candace watched the exchange, she grinned. What a strange relationship this mystical woman had with her cat. Sometimes she treated him like he was human. Then again, maybe he was. Perhaps Pamina really was a magical being and had turned him into a feline as punishment for misconduct. He did seem to be quite the devilish little feline. When Abra gave a loud purr, Candace scoffed at her crazy imagination, pushed those ridiculous thoughts aside and focused on the task ahead.

  “Pamina,” she began as Abra jumped from her arms and leisurely made his way to Marc’s van. “I think I’m going to have to hire a carpenter to help out with the room. I need some sturdy furniture made. Sturdier than I can purchase.”

  Pamina’s long golden hair blew in the early-morning breeze and she narrowed her knowledgeable eyes in thought. “Do you have a carpenter in mind?”

  “I usually use a local guy—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  Candace didn’t have to turn around to know who’d spoken. There was only one man who had such a deep sexy voice. Lust shot through her body at his rich desirous tone. She took a brief moment to gather herself before she spun to face him and tried for normal.

  “You can build furniture?” He’d changed into a worn pair of jeans that hugged his body in all the right places, and a white T-shirt did wonders for his upper torso. Scrumptious.

  “Yes, I’m good with my hands.” His grin was slow and he fixed her with a look that told her just how capable he was. She sucked in a breath and a fine shiver moved through her as heat arched between them. God, she wanted him. Oh how she wanted him. Masking her enthusiasm, she clamped her thighs and pretended to ponder his offer for a moment.

  “What a great idea, Marc,” Pamina said. “For your services, we can offer you room and board as well.”

  Marc gave her an odd look. “How do you know—?”

  Without answering his question, Pamina continued. “It’s just me and Abra in this big old place and we quite enjoy the company. Like the girls, you’re welcome to the pantry and all the facilities, including the shower. I understand that such an undertaking can sometimes get a little messy.” Then she turned to Candace. “What do you think?”

  I think things are going to get a whole lot more interesting.

  She cast Marc a glance and examined his sensual mouth, wondering how it would feel on her body, and deciding then and there that she most definitely needed to find out. Now how to get him to make a move on her?

  “Sometimes I work late.”

  He pushed his hands into his jeans, pulling them low on his hips. “I don’t mind working late.”

  “If you’re rooming here, I might keep you up.”

  In more ways than one.

  “I don’t mind being kept up.”

  Visions of him being…up…while the two of them were working out the kinks in her fantasy room raced through her mind. She swallowed down a moan and held her hand out.

  “Welcome aboard.”

  * * *

  Just off the back deck, Marc leaned over the table saw and ra
n a piece of wood through the sharp blade. He’d forgotten how much he liked working with his hands and building things. He glanced around, taking note of the birds chirping and the simple life outside the city. This was definitely something he could get used to.

  He turned his attention back to constructing the sturdy king-sized bed Candace had designed, a bed created for marathon sex. As he worked, he tried to convince himself that he’d volunteered for the job so he could keep a better eye on Candace. Not because he wanted to be in that bedroom with her. Up close and personal.

  He’d been working with her for a couple of days now, helping her carry in sex equipment, which included a Tantra chair, a sex swing, some strange-looking glider, and a dance pole that, he had to admit, was a personal favorite. He also had to admit it was becoming harder and harder to keep his hands off her lush body, especially with the way she continually looked at him, lust smoldering in the depths of her passionate green eyes. And Christ, when he’d helped her secure the floor-to-ceiling pole and watched her swing around it to ensure it was safe and bolted correctly, it was all he could do not to imagine her shimmying down it—naked. Her teasing and taunting had him walking around with a constant boner. If she was waiting for him to make the first move, she could forget it. No way, no how was he going to seduce her.

  He had to keep his hands to himself, as much as that seemed to frustrate her. And him. He owed it to Krane. If this assignment proved successful, all his hard work over the last year was going to pay off and Krane was going to offer him the job as head of security, moving him up the ladder a few rungs.

  He pulled the board away, made his way to the side of the house for another piece of lumber, and spotted Candace and Anna walking down the driveway. A quick glance at his watch told him it was lunchtime and he wondered why Lindsay wasn’t joining them for a bite to eat. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Lindsay in a few days. In passing, he had come across the carpenter she’d hired to help her tear down a wall, and with the way he looked at Lindsay, Marc wondered if he too was having a hell of a time focusing on the job. Then again there was always the masonry guy, who’d been keeping an awfully close eye on Anna.