“That’s not the same, is it?”
“No. What’s your point?”
“She’s a good person, Enrique. Don’t mess with her head.”
“For cripe’s sake, Nikki, I am not messing with her head. I don’t know where this is going. How am I supposed to find out, if she starts pushing me away?”
“Is that what she’s doing?”
“It seems that way to me. She hasn’t moved, but she’s barely speaking to me. Did I do or say something to offend her?”
“You really are worried about this, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. That’s why I called.”
“Okay then, here’s the deal. I can’t say for sure, but I think it has to do with your job. We talked a little about how spooked I was by Tom’s career. Allie seemed to be pretty much in the same place about yours. Apparently she just woke up to the fact that you put your life on the line on a regular basis.”
“This is about my job?” Ricky echoed incredulously.
“I can’t be certain, but that’s my guess.”
He groaned. He could fix a lot of things. He could talk his way out of just about anything. But what the hell was he supposed to do about his career? He loved his profession. It was who he was. Nikki had to be wrong. Just because she freaked out on a regular basis about Tom’s job, she was probably projecting her own feelings onto Allie. He resolved to go straight to the source and he wouldn’t wait until tomorrow. He’d do it tonight.
Allie came home to find the house lit by candles and dinner simmering on the stove. Picadillo, black beans and rice. She had a feeling they could thank Mrs. Wilder or Maria for the food. She was less certain about the candles.
Ricky wandered out of the bathroom just then, a towel wrapped around his waist, his chest and hair still damp from a shower. It was not an image conducive to peace of mind. Her already-shaky resolve to fight the attraction she felt for this man took a solid hit, especially when his lips curved slowly into that irresistible smile of his.
“Hi.” He gestured toward his barely concealed body. “I thought I had the place to myself.”
Allie swallowed hard and tried to feign a nonchalance she was far from feeling. “It is your house.”
A storm began to brew in his eyes. “Don’t go there, Allie.”
“I just meant—”
“I know what you meant,” he retorted, his expression fierce. He seemed to be fighting a losing battle with himself. “Look, I’ll be out in a few minutes. Dinner’s almost ready. There’s a bottle of wine on the kitchen counter. Pour yourself a glass, if you’d like one.”
She was about to protest, to make an excuse and retreat to her room to avoid whatever unpredictable mood he was in, but she got the distinct impression he’d be infuriated if she tried.
“Thanks,” she said instead. “I’ll just put these papers away.”
She had to brush past him in the narrow corridor to reach her room. He stubbornly refused to budge. She could feel the heat emanating from his body as she inched past. He smelled of soap and shampoo and pure masculinity. If she’d been another kind of woman, she would have reached out and given that precariously knotted towel a sharp tug just to see what might follow. As it was, she fought the impulse and made a dash for her room.
Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and gasped for breath. “Oh, my,” she murmured. She was in trouble. Knee-deep and sinking fast. More trouble than she’d ever imagined.
Worse, she thought, Ricky knew it. He might have turned up in the hallway wearing nothing but a towel and a smile by accident, but he’d lingered on purpose, enjoying her discomfort.
Why? That was what she wanted to know. What perversity had made him stand there and deliberately taunt her? Hadn’t she been doing her best to steer clear of him ever since they’d gone on that double date with Tom and Nikki? Hadn’t she practically told him by her actions that she considered them to be nothing more than casual roommates?
Hadn’t she been lying through her teeth…to herself as well as him? She sighed heavily. She might as well admit it. She wanted Ricky Wilder, wanted him as she had never wanted another man, had never even been tempted by another man.
But he’d been right to warn her off. It would be a disaster. He was a flirt and a scoundrel, who took nothing very seriously except his work. She was serious and intense. When she finally got around to having a relationship, she intended for it to matter, for it to last. If that wasn’t a doomed combination, what was?
She sighed again. She knew perfectly well that she couldn’t hide out in her room. Ricky had already warned her against that. Surely she could spend an evening with him without acting on all of these raging impulses he stirred in her. She just had to get a grip and remember who he was, who she was.
When she finally emerged and headed for the kitchen, she was relieved that he wasn’t there. She poured herself a glass of red wine and took a sip. Warmth cascaded through her. She felt better at once. Braver. She took another sip, then warned herself that continuing down that particular path would be folly.
She moved to the stove, lifted the lid on the picadillo and stirred the mixture of meat and spices, savoring the rich scent. Suddenly she felt Ricky’s hand in the middle of her back. Her gaze shot up and met his as he leaned around her to check on the simmering pot of black beans. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“Hungry?” he inquired mildly, stepping back and pouring his own glass of wine.
Allie’s pulse scrambled. Every sense was on full alert, and all he cared about was food. That ought to tell her something.
“Starved,” she said, proud that she managed to get the word out without choking.
“Me, too. Have a seat. I’ll fix our plates.”
Allie sat, because her knees were threatening to buckle anyway. Ricky put a full plate in front of her, set one at his own place, then dimmed the lights, leaving the room bathed in the glow of half a dozen candles.
Allie automatically tasted the food, but it might as well have been sawdust. She had to fight the urge to cast surreptitious glances at the man seated opposite her. Something was going on here that she didn’t understand. His solicitous behavior, the candles, that little scene in the hallway, all of it pointed toward a man intent on seduction. Not that she had a lot of experience in that area, but she was pretty sure this wasn’t the way casual roommates behaved.
She could let the evening take its own course or she could ask a few questions and take charge of it herself. She’d vowed a long time ago not to let circumstances control her life. The next few minutes might be awkward, especially if she’d gotten it all wrong, but at least she would know.
“Ricky?”
He regarded her with a questioning expression.
“What’s going on here?” she asked.
“We’re having dinner.”
“Besides that?”
His lips twitched ever so slightly, but his eyes were serious as they clashed with hers. “What makes you think something’s going on?”
“You.” She gestured toward the candles. “This.”
“You have a problem with the ambiance?”
“I don’t have a problem with it,” she said, not even trying to hide her exasperation. “Not exactly.”
“What then?”
She wanted to smack the innocent expression off his face. She thought maybe a little bluntness would do the job.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” she asked.
This time his lips curved into a full-blown grin. “Yes,” he said, taking the wind out of her sails.
Allie stared at him, openmouthed. She hadn’t expected him to admit it. Now that he had, what was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Tell him to forget it? Get all huffy and indignant and stalk away from the table? Out of the house, she corrected. She would have to get very far away, if she was to change the course he’d set.
The trouble was, her breath seemed to have lodged in her throat. Her body was shouti
ng, “Hip hip hurray!” and all but daring her to say yes.
“Do you have a problem with that?” Ricky inquired lazily.
Allie swallowed hard and tried to muster up the protest that her brain assured her was appropriate.
“No,” she whispered finally. “No, I don’t have a problem with that.”
His grin spread. “Good.”
He reached over, picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. A shudder rolled through her.
“Eat,” he advised. “You’re going to need the energy.”
Allie wanted to make some clever, snippy little comment about his ego, but she didn’t. She picked up her fork and ate. It was hard to concentrate on beans and rice, though, when all she could think about was dessert.
Chapter Thirteen
Ricky had taken a huge risk when he’d admitted to Allie that he intended to seduce her. He almost expected her to bolt from the room. For a minute, in fact, she’d looked as if she wanted to.
Then, to his amazement and relief, she met his gaze evenly and said, “Yes.” He hadn’t tasted another bite of food after that.
Still, he’d been determined not to rush her. He wanted to give her a little time to get used to the idea. He even wanted her to have time to change her mind, though he was pretty sure he would die if she did.
They even managed to carry on a conversation during the rest of the meal. He couldn’t recall now what it had been about, but it had seemed brilliant enough at the time.
Finally, when the table had been carefully cleared and the dishes dutifully done, she looked up at him, her heart in her eyes, and asked, “This seduction of yours, is it going to be tonight?”
Ricky swallowed hard, fighting the need that made him want to reach out and claim her. “Are you still okay with that?”
He lasted until she gave him the slightest nod and then his lips settled against hers. He’d lectured himself for the past hour to go slowly. He’d assured himself that he could.
But one taste of her had him reevaluating. Need slammed through him, hot and urgent. Still he kept the kiss light, persuasive and coaxing, rather than demanding. She whimpered against his mouth, clearly wanting more. His blood roared in his ears, insisting that he go along with her.
He fought that urge and all the others that tugged at him, settling instead for the sweet torment of a slow burn. Oh, he was on fire for her, all right. He’d never known anyone like her, a woman who offered everything. The complete surrender was as unexpected as it was exciting. It washed away all of the doubts that had made him hold back for weeks now. He promised himself he would make sure she didn’t regret her decision, not tonight, not ever.
His mouth was still locked with hers when he scooped her up and cradled her against his chest. Even as small as his house was, it seemed to take forever, but he reached his bedroom eventually after stopping along the way to blow out each and every candle. The firefighter in him was unwilling to trade safety for ambience. Then he closed the door, leaving a disappointed Shadow on the other side. He heard a whimper as he carried Allie to the bed, then the thump of the dog’s body settling against the door.
He lowered Allie gently to the bed. “Allie, are you sure?” he asked one more time as he stood staring down at her.
Dazed, dreamy eyes met his. “About what?”
“About this?” he said. “Making love?”
She stretched languidly, then scooted onto her knees and put her hands on either side of his face. Her gaze was clear, her expression determined. “Very sure,” she assured him, then slanted her mouth across his and plunged her tongue inside in a way that removed all trace of doubt.
Ricky felt something inside him shatter. Later he would have to figure out what the sensation was, but for now he knew only that touching Allie was more thrilling than anything he’d ever experienced, in bed or out. He couldn’t seem to get enough of the feel of her soft skin as he slowly removed first her blouse, then her bra, noting as he did that it was one of the sexy ones he’d picked out for her. Then he feasted on the sight of her bared breasts, the dusky peaks, the pebble-hard nipples. For now it was enough just to drink in the sight. Touching, tasting would come later.
When he’d satisfied himself with that vision, he slid the zipper of her slacks down, then trailed his fingers along satiny flesh until he reached the silky barrier of her panties. He paused, then moved on. Her eyes widened with surprise, then pleasure as he touched the hot, slick core of her. She gasped when he stripped away panties and touched the same place with his tongue. Her hips rose off the bed as she strained toward his touch and toward an elusive release.
“Not yet, querida. Not yet,” he murmured, shifting his attention to her breasts, which were peaked with arousal. Her cries pleased him, but he wanted more. He wanted to give her an experience she would never forget, never equal.
She stirred restlessly when he pulled away. She reached for him, but he slipped out of reach, letting the sensations die to a simmer before stirring them back up again with a slow caress, a tender kiss, a deliberate slide of expert fingers deep inside her. She bucked against him, once again begging for a release he refused.
There was a sheen of perspiration on her body, an undeniable tension to her muscles. He felt that tension mirrored in his own body, which was hard and aching from the long denial.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with need.
Ricky guessed that she was at the end of her rope, knew that he was. He slipped out of the shirt that she had tried to remove, then shed his jeans. Her avid gaze fell on his arousal. She reached out tentatively, then drew one finger along the hard shaft. Ricky thought he might explode. He doubted she understood the danger, so he guided her hand to safer territory, but even her touch against his chest had him tensing with desire.
Once again he began to explore her body, partly to distract her from her own exploration, partly to begin the last slow climb to the peak he’d denied her time and again tonight. Satisfied at last that she was at the top, at the edge, he knelt between her legs and entered her in one fast, urgent thrust.
She shattered at once, her contractions hard and deep. He waited, perfectly still, until they slowed, and then he began the age-old rhythm that would take them both to the top yet again. She cried out as the sensations tore through her, and this time, with her cries echoing in his head and her slick heat surrounding him, he joined her in a shuddering release.
His breath came back eventually. His heartbeat quieted to a normal pace, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Something had happened to him tonight, something he’d never expected, never imagined. He’d made love, in every sense of the phrase. He couldn’t deny it. He’d had a lot of experience with sex and none with making love. He could tell the difference. This, this, had been something special, something he would never get enough of, something he was reluctant to end.
He rolled over, bringing Allie with him, still joined in the most intimate way possible, still bound by that inexplicable bond that he’d wondered about but had spent a lifetime doubting.
She sighed heavily and stirred. When she would have moved away from him, he held her tight. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to gaze into her eyes to see if she felt the same way. He put his life on the line all the time without a second thought, but he didn’t want to risk this moment, this magic. Damn, she had him thinking like a blasted poet, all soft and mushy and romantic. It wasn’t his style. Permanence sure as hell wasn’t his style.
But that’s exactly what he wanted. Forever. He finally dared a glance at Allie’s face. He saw satisfaction there, maybe even joy, but he thought he also detected a glint of determination in her eyes. He couldn’t figure out what that was about, but something told him it couldn’t possibly be good.
“Okay,” he said warily. “What’s on your mind?”
“The truth?”
“Always.” Even when it hurt, and he was pretty sure this was going to.
“You’re so good at this and I’
m…Well, I’m not exactly experienced.”
His mouth gaped. She needed reassurance? The woman who’d all but destroyed him? “Are you fishing for a compliment?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she protested. “I’m trying to be honest.”
“Allie, if you were any better at this, we’d collapse from exhaustion.”
Her lips tilted up, but the smile faded before it could blossom. “But all those other women…”
“There are no other women. Not like you.”
She continued to regard him doubtfully. Ricky couldn’t think of any other way to persuade her except to show her in lingering, tormenting detail.
He wasn’t entirely sure how convincing he was, but at least when he was through, she was way too breathless to argue. Good thing, too, because he really, really needed some time to figure out what he was going to do about the discovery he’d just made that he was falling in love with Allie Matthews.
Allie was pretty sure her brain must have been starved for oxygen while she was under her collapsed house. Not only had she moved in with a virtual stranger, but now, a scant few weeks later, she was sharing his bed. Maybe Ricky had been right after all, and she was incapable of clear thought. She was certainly behaving more impetuously than was her habit.
The proof? Tonight’s lovemaking had happened after she had very firmly told herself that Ricky Wilder was not the kind of man she wanted in her life. She wanted someone solid and dependable, someone who didn’t have a history of loving and leaving every woman he’d ever known.
Okay, she couldn’t exactly accuse Ricky of not being solid and dependable, could she? After all, he had saved her life.
But he was also an outrageous flirt, a fact confirmed by everyone who knew him and that he himself had never bothered to deny. Despite his reassurances that she more than measured up to all those other women in his life, he hadn’t exactly given her any reason to believe their relationship would be any more lasting than the others had been.
Moreover—and here was the real problem—he didn’t think twice about putting his life on the line. Every time she thought of what he did for a living, she shuddered. She wanted a man who would be home every night, whose greatest risk was negotiating I-95 on his way to work. Life could be unpredictable enough without deliberately taking chances. She knew that better than anyone.
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