"Go ahead and shoot," she told him glumly. "It can't make any more of a mess than I've already done."
Sam grinned and came farther into the room. "I don't think it's worthy of capital punishment." He set the gun on the counter and studied the mess at her feet.
He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans, and Nikki tried very hard not to notice when the denim slid dangerously low on his hips. The only light was the small one over the stove, but it was more than enough to show every inch of his bare chest. It was a dream about that chest—not to mention everything that went with it—that had caused her to flee her bedroom in the middle of the night in hopes that a cup of cocoa would bring less disturbing dreams.
"How about half an hour hard labor with a broom?" Sam said.
With an effort, Nikki forced her attention back to the disaster at her feet. "Half an hour?" She raised her brows. "Do you know how far five pounds of sugar scatters when dropped?"
"Well, I didn't see any in the dining room, so I think it's safe to assume that the spill is at least partially contained."
"That's a relief. I can quit worrying about filing an environmental impact report."
"That's a safe bet. Do you mind my asking what happened?"
"Should I demand to have my attorney present?" Nikki set the canister and the nearly empty box of cocoa on the counter.
Sam grinned again, and she felt her pulse take a jump. "I'm asking as an interested bystander, not as an officer of the law," he assured her solemnly.
"In that case, I'll admit that I'm occasionally overcome by an uncontrollable urge to come down to the kitchen in the middle of the night and drop canisters on the floor."
"Ah, a canister dropper." The laughter in his eyes belied the serious set of his mouth. "We studied that at the academy, but I've never had to deal with one before."
"Did your instructors offer any suggestions?"
Nikki couldn't remember having ever had such an utterly ridiculous conversation with anyone. If someone had told her that she'd be standing in a small sea of sugar, in the middle of the night, having such a conversation with the man she'd married, she'd have thought they were crazy.
"They advised us to use extreme caution," Sam said. He shook his head, looking worried. "Canister droppers are known to be unpredictable. You never know what they might do next."
"I don't suppose they said anything about helping them clean up the mess," she suggested hopefully.
"That's the worst possible approach. Sometimes they turn violent."
"But I'm unarmed," she protested, spreading her hands to emphasize her harmlessness.
Unfortunately, as far as Sam was concerned, Nikki didn't need a weapon to be dangerous. Someday, he'd figure out how it was that she managed to look so desirable wearing clothes that couldn't, even by the wildest interpretation of the word, be called sexy. The voluminous nightgown she'd worn Thanksgiving night certainly hadn't been designed with enticement in mind but he'd been enticed. Tonight she was wearing a pair of pink-and-white striped cotton pajamas that had an almost childlike sweetness about them. But there was nothing childlike about the body inside them. That was all woman.
And the response she inspired in him was all man.
Nikki saw Sam's eyes go over her in a. slow, sweeping glance that started with her tousled hair and ended with her sugar-dusted, slippered feet. He took his time, letting his gaze linger on the way.
The look had the impact of a physical touch. When his look skimmed her breasts, it was as if he'd put his hands on her. She felt her breasts swell, her nipples hardening into tight peaks that pressed against the fabric of her pajama top, visible evidence of the effect he was having on her.
His gaze moved on slowly, tracing the curving indentation of her waist before sliding slowly across her hips and down the length of her legs. As if he hadn't already wreaked enough havoc with her breathing, he then proceeded to retrace his path.
By the time his eyes collided with hers, Nikki's knees were trembling so badly that she was in danger of sinking to the floor, sugar and all. The blatant male hunger in his look sent a wave of heat through her like nothing she'd ever felt before.
"I—I should get a broom." She spoke more out of a need to break the tense silence than out of housewifely concern for the mess at her feet.
"If you walk through the sugar, you're going to track it even farther." Sam's words were reasonable, but his tone and the look in his eyes suggested that tidiness was not the main thing on his mind.
Without giving her a chance to respond, he stepped closer, his bare feet crunching on the edge of the spill. Leaning forward, he closed his hands around her waist. Nikki gasped as he lifted her as easily as if she'd weighed nothing at all. To steady herself, she put bar hands on his arms, feeling the corded strength of his muscles as he stepped back from the grainy brown-and-white pool on the floor.
Nikki's breath caught when he drew her close before lowering her, so that her body brushed against his every inch of the way. Her eyes remained locked with his, mesmerized by the searing blue flame of his gaze. She felt that warmth as if it were a touch, spreading heat through her body, warming her in ways she'd never felt before, -ever imagined.
He was going to kiss her. She knew it as surely as if he'd stated the intention out loud. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation, mixed with something very close to fear, rushing down her spine. She couldn't analyze the fear—it wasn't physical. She knew, with every fiber of her being, that Sam would never hurt her. But there was a deep, emotional trepidation, a feeling that his kiss would change her life in ways she wasn't sure she was ready for.
"I don't think-"
"Don't think," he ordered, his voice a soft rasp. His hands, still at her waist, slid around her back, one pressing against her spine, the other sliding upward to tangle in the thick, pale gold of her hair. He tilted her head back. "Don't think at all."
The last word was a breath against her mouth. It was an unnecessary order. Every semblance of rational thought fled the moment his lips touched hers.
She'd been expecting him to take possession of her mouth, as much triumphant conqueror as lover. Instead, his lips were gentle, asking rather than demanding, coaxing her to let go of her uncertainties, to give him the response he wanted, to give herself to him in a way she'd never allowed herself to do.
Nikki was aware of a feeling oddly akin to despair. This was what she'd been afraid of—that once the door was opened, it might be impossible to close it again, to keep a safe distance. She felt as if carefully built walls were crumbling to dust. But it was impossible to resist. If she were honest with herself, she didn't want to resist. She wanted this, had wanted it from the first moment they'd met.
With a breath that was nearly a sob, she opened her mouth to him. Sam accepted her invitation immediately. His tongue tasted the fullness of her lower lip, brushed across the smooth surface of her teeth and found the honeyed sweetness of her mouth, taking possession.
Nikki's fingers dug into the heavy muscles of his upper arms, clinging to him as the world tilted and spun around them. It was everything she'd known it would be. It was the fulfillment of every guilty fantasy she'd had over the past few weeks. This was the dream that had driven her from her bed, that had sent her downstairs. She'd been seeking the gentle comfort of warm cocoa and found instead the hot passion of Sam's kiss.
She was everything he'd imagined she'd be, warm and soft, fitting in his arms as perfectly as if made to be there. Sam deepened the kiss, drawing Nikki closer until not even a shadow could have slipped between them. He could feel the fullness of her breasts crushed against his chest, the cotton of her pajama top proving a thin barrier at best.
He'd been waiting forever for this, waiting to taste her, to feel her against him. She'd created a hunger in him like nothing he'd ever known. One taste and he was rock hard and aching.
He slid his hand under the hem of her pajama top, flattening against the satiny skin of her back. Her skin warmed b
eneath his touch. His mouth slid restlessly from hers. Nikki gasped when his teeth closed on her earlobe. His tongue tasted the taut arch of her throat, settling on the pulse that beat raggedly at its base. He felt an echo of that pulse in his own heartbeat. God, he wanted her.
He wanted her here and now. He didn't care if she was sprawled beneath him on the table or sitting on the counter. Hell, he'd have her on the floor in the midst of the damned sugar, for that matter. As long as he could bury the aching heat of his arousal in the tender warmth of her. The thought of it made him shudder with need.
Nikki felt as if she'd been snatched up in a whirlwind. She could feel the hunger in him, feel herself being pulled into it, overwhelmed by it. Her skin felt sizzling hot beneath his hand. That heat radiated outward until her entire body was flushed with it. Her fingers curled into the thick dark blond hair at the base of his skull as her tongue came up to curl around his, teasing and tantalizing, fanning the heat higher still.
Sam shuddered against her. His hands shifted abruptly, and Nikki gasped in shock as she felt them slide beneath the fabric of her pajamas and flatten against her bottom. She started to protest, but all that came out was a soft moan against Sam's mouth as he lifted her half off her feet, pressing her lower body against his, letting her feel the swollen length of his arousal.
Nikki's bones seemed to melt. There was a throbbing pressure in the pit of her stomach, an aching emptiness that only he could fill.
"I want you." The words were a low growl against her throat, as much felt as heard.
"Yes." Nikki arched her head back, trusting Sam to keep them both upright. His tongue swirled across the pulse that beat wildly at the base of her throat.
"Come upstairs with me."
Yes. It was the natural conclusion to what they'd begun., and she wanted it as much as he did. She wanted to lie in his bed, to feel him over her, within her. There was nothing to stop them, no reason to hesitate. They were married and, in a few short minutes, they would be husband and wife in fact as well as name.
The thought penetrated Nikki's fevered absorption in the taste and feel of the man holding her.
Husband and wife? Married? For real? That wasn't the way it was supposed to work. This was a marriage of convenience, not passion. If they made love, all the rules would change. She'd be Sam's wife in every sense of the word. There'd be no more pretending that they were strangers linked by nothing more than their names on a marriage license. No more pretending that, at the end of the year, she was going to walk away untouched by regret. No more pretending that she wasn't falling in love with the man she'd married to get her inheritance. The thought was terrifying.
"No." The word was barely audible, and she had to repeat it, as much for herself as for Sam. "No."
"No?" He echoed the word against her mouth, and Nikki was helpless to prevent a response. "No?" He rocked his hips gently against hers, sending a shiver of need racing down her spine. "No?"
It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to turn her head away. Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, pressing against him. "No."
Sam held her a moment longer. She wanted him. He could feel it in her, in the way she trembled in his arms, in the ragged edge to her breathing. He could change her mind. It wouldn't take much to have her begging for him there and then, to hell with going upstairs.
He shuddered as he eased his hands away from her, steadying her until her feet were solidly on the ground. He drew an unsteady breath and stepped back. She was still too close for his peace of mind, but at least he didn't inhale the scent of her with every breath he drew.
They stared at each other across the rubble of their tidy marriage of convenience.
"It's going to happen," Sam said quietly. "Not tonight. Not until you're ready. But it is going to happen."
Nikki opened her mouth to deny what he was saying and then closed it without speaking. She knew he was right. She couldn't pretend otherwise. Now that the hunger, the need, was out in the open, it was inevitable that they'd come together.
She looked away from him, staring down at the fine white grains of sugar and the powdery brown cocoa that dusted the dark tile floor.
"I should get this cleaned up," she said. It seemed like the accident had happened a thousand years ago.
"Why don't you leave it till morning?"
"Lena will have a fit if she walks in on this in the morning. Besides, I'm... not really sleepy."
Sleep was the last thing on Sam's mind, but he wasn't such a glutton for punishment that he was going to offer to stay and help her. His self-control was stretched to the limit. As it was, it was going to take an hour or two in a cold shower before he'd cooled down enough to think about going back to bed.
"I'll leave you to it, then," he said.
Nikki nodded without looking up. Sam hesitated a moment longer before turning away. He picked up his gun on the way out of the kitchen. All in all, he might have been better off finding the burglar he'd been expecting. It certainly would have done less damage to his peace of mind.
Chapter 12
"So, are you two sleeping together yet?" Liz asked, eyeing Nikki with cheerful curiosity.
Nikki choked on a mouthful of ice tea. When she managed to regain her breath, she glared at her friend out of red-rimmed eyes. "What did you say?"
"You heard me." Liz twisted her fork in the fettuccine Alfredo on her plate, looking as if she didn't know she'd just asked an utterly outrageous question.
"I heard you, but I thought I must be hallucinating."
"No, you didn't. We've been friends too long for me to surprise you." Liz popped the fork in her mouth.
"That's what I thought. But I can't believe you just asked me if.. .what you just asked me." Nikki couldn't bring herself to repeat the question. The images it brought to mind were simply too powerful. "You know this isn't a real marriage."
"I know he's a man and you're a woman."
"You sound like a bad pop song," Nikki muttered.
"And I know chemistry when I see it," Liz finished, ignoring the interruption. "There was definitely chemistry between the two of you at the wedding."
"All bad," Nikki snapped. "I despised Sam then."
"Aha!" Liz pounced on the weak point. "Despised. Past tense. Obviously, your feelings have changed."
"For heaven's sake, Liz, you've got to get out more. You're starting to sound like a talk-show hostess." Nikki dropped her voice in imitation of a television announcer. " 'Today our show is about women who marry men they dislike in order to get inheritances that should have been theirs in the first place.' And I always thought they made all that stuff up."
"Truth is stranger than fiction," Liz said imperturb-ably.
"You're stranger than fiction." Nikki jabbed her fork into a broccoli floret.
She'd thought about canceling her monthly lunch with Liz but had decided she was better off occupying her time with something more productive than thinking about Sam. Now she wished she'd listened to her instincts. This conversation wasn't doing anything to help put him out of her mind.
It had been three days since The Kiss. Nikki had counted herself fortunate that her path and Sam's had crossed only briefly in that time. Sam was apparently putting in long hours at work, because he didn't seem to be home much. Either that or he was no more anxious to see her than she was to see him.
She had mixed feelings about that thought. He was the one who'd said that they were going to end up sleeping together, and she hadn't been able to deny it. Shouldn't he be putting some effort into convincing her? Not that she wanted him to convince her. At least, she didn't think she did.
And it really didn't matter, anyway, because she was very busy with the day-care center. With Christmas just around the corner, many of the parents were working extra hours, which meant Rainbow Place stayed open later, which meant everyone was putting in more time.
It was an unfortunate fact that, despite the additional work, it seemed there was still plenty of rime t
o brood about Sam. And now, when she thought she'd be able to escape her own thoughts for a little while, her best friend was dragging him into the conversation.
"You can insult me all you like," Liz said calmly. "But I know you well enough to know when you're hiding something from me. You can tell me it's none of my business—"
"It's none of your business."
"But something's bothering you, and I think it's Sam. I thought it might be that the two of you were starting to get involved."
"We're married. I think that's plenty involved."
"You know what I mean."
Nikki knew exactly what she meant. She'd had a graphic demonstration a few days ago of what Liz meant.
"I don't want to get any more involved with Sam than I already am,'' she told Liz firmly. But even as she said it, she knew it wasn't entirely true. Her head didn't want to get involved with him, but the rest of her didn't seem to feel the same.
"What you want and what you get aren't always the same thing." Liz waved a forkful of fettuccine for emphasis. "Look at me."
"What about you? You wanted to marry a nice guy and have one or two kids and a home of your own, and that's exactly what you got.''
There was a brief silence.
"Okay, so that wasn't a good example," Liz admitted. "But that doesn't change the essential truth of what I said. Life doesn't always go the way you plan."
"Tell me about it." Nikki looked down at the gold band on her finger. At the moment, almost nothing in her life was going as planned. Liz must have read something of that in her expression, because she dropped the faintly teasing tone she'd been using.
"Look, Nikki, all kidding aside, I worry about you."
"Why?" Nikki gave her a surprised look.
"You're so directed, so focused on what you want and how to get it. You always have been."
Nikki raised her eyebrows. "This is bad?"
"No, it's good," Liz said quickly. "You know how much I admire the work you do with Rainbow Place. I didn't even argue when you told me you were going to marry some guy you'd just met to get your inheritance so you'd have the money to expand the program."
A Family Circle 1 - A Very Convenient Marriage Page 15