Best of Temptation Bundle

by Tori Carrington

  “Do you think we should kowtow when he gets back? I bet he loved being in China where everyone bowed to him.”

  He didn’t question the impulse. Grinning evilly, Mitch bent down, picked up the large watering can and dumped the contents all over her head.

  When the dirty water hit her, Kelsey shrieked, then leaped up with laughter on her lips. “You rat,” she said as she shook off the moisture, spraying him with several drops.

  Mitch watched her glance over her shoulder and saw the smile fade from her face as she recognized him. When she turned around, he tried not to stare. He really tried. And failed miserably.

  Kelsey, the ten-year-old monster, was long gone. Kelsey, the scrawny freckle-faced teenager, had disappeared, too. Here was Kelsey the beauty. The sharp angles of her face had softened with maturity and the freckles had faded into the creamy skin. Her sun-streaked honey-colored hair brushed the curves of her breasts, which were barely covered by the red bikini top. Her eyes were the same brilliant green as her father’s, and her mouth, which he’d longed to slug at least two dozen times in his youth, was generous and eminently kissable.

  Damn.

  “Hello, Mitch,” Kelsey finally managed to whisper.

  What was he doing here? He was a day early, and Kelsey was not at all prepared to greet her new landlord in her bathing suit. Mitch had looked at her like a bratty little kid for so many years, she’d planned to be smartly dressed, cultured, urbane and adult when they finally met again. How typical of him to come back early and spoil everything.

  “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.” Her voice cracked and she cursed herself for being a coward.

  “I can see that,” Mitch said. “Been doing a little gardening, hmm?”

  He didn’t sound pleased. Then again she hadn’t really expected him to be. But Kelsey ignored the warning tone in his voice and gestured around the yard. “It just needed a little sprucing up. Isn’t it beautiful? Think of the garden parties you could throw here now.”

  Mitch didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, leaving her feeling terribly exposed. She grabbed her T-shirt and yanked it on over her head, plucking at the ends to try to cover her hips. He still stared, and she realized how foolish she must look trying to cover up what he’d obviously already seen.

  “How was China?” she asked inanely.

  “Crowded.”

  He didn’t say another word, just continued to stare piercingly at her, as if he almost didn’t recognize her. Well, two could play at that game, she figured. She lifted her chin and stared right back.

  She wished she hadn’t. Mitch had always been too good-looking for her own good. His thick dark hair, as brown as mahogany, hung a little long, nearly brushing his collar. The breeze blew a lock of it onto his forehead, and Kelsey had a moment’s impulse to brush it off. His eyes, which probably should have been dark brown to match his hair, were instead a deep midnight blue. The contrast was incredibly dramatic. His face was lean, with a slight five-o’clock shadow highlighting the sculpted jaw. She wondered how rough it would feel on her skin, then shook off the thought and glanced over the rest of him.

  Mitch’s six-foot form was lean and solid as ever and, even clad in a white dress shirt and tailored slacks, he looked athletic and muscular. Not bulky, she noted, but toned, with a runner’s legs and strong rower’s arms. He had played a lot of sports as a teen, she remembered, and he and her older brother Nathan had been the two best athletes in their high school. She recalled being in sixth grade, watching their basketball games, proud when her friends would giggle and whisper about Nate, but somehow annoyed when they did the same thing about Mitch. If Emmy Frasier could see Mitch now, she’d positively faint at his feet. He was one fine male specimen.

  “Finished?” He gave her a slight, knowing smile.

  “Are you?” she asked, knowing he’d done his fair share of staring. He narrowed his eyes. Kelsey decided to call round one even. But she knew from experience the war was a long way from over. After all, they’d been battling since they were kids.

  Years before, Kelsey’s mother had offered to take Mitch in while his archaeologist parents traveled. Mitch got in so much trouble the first summer for smoking, drinking and sneaking out, that Kelsey thought he’d be shipped off to military school, something his own parents had threatened. The residents in the sleepy little town of Billings, Virginia, just hadn’t known what to make of a rich, big-city kid with a huge chip on his shoulder. But Marge Logan had a soft heart, and Mitch kept coming back. His visits eventually grew longer until he was spending most of the year with them.

  Little Kelsey, who thought all boys were totally gross, already had her hands full with her two brothers. So she did everything she could to get rid of Mitch. Her pranks had been relentless, but for the most part he’d ignored them. The angriest he ever got was when she purposely changed the time on his watch and car clock one night before he went out. His date’s father had been livid when his sixteen-year-old got in at two in the morning instead of midnight. It didn’t hurt that the girl was the daughter of the mayor. That had been the end of that budding romance.

  Kelsey’s campaign of terror came to a screeching halt when she was twelve and realized just how handsome Mitch was. Suddenly it didn’t seem so bad to have him around. She tried everything to make him notice her. But he’d never seen her as anything but a pesky kid.

  Kelsey smiled slowly. He saw her as an adult now, though. She had seen the expression on his face in that first unguarded moment, and knew he would never see her as a child again. She raised her chin a notch and squared her shoulders. Oh, yes, he saw her as a woman. And he certainly was a man.

  “Exactly what have you done to my home?” he asked.

  Not “Thank you.” Not “Hello, Kelsey, it’s nice to see you after all these years, how are your folks.” Mitch was spoiling for a fight. She couldn’t really say she was surprised.

  “I made some improvements.” Trying to ignore the tone in his voice, she bent to clean up some of the tools she’d left lying around. Her loose T-shirt slid up, baring her middle. “This house didn’t even look lived in. How long have you had it, anyway?”

  “Uh, I’m sorry, what?”

  Kelsey glanced up to see Mitch staring in fascination at her bare midriff. He looked decidedly uncomfortable. She dropped her lashes and suppressed the grin threatening to spread across her face. Well, wasn’t this interesting? God, how many years had she waited to see that look on his face?

  “I said,” she answered slowly, leaning even farther to retrieve the rake, “how long have you had this place?”

  She watched his eyes shift again toward the thigh and hip she displayed. “Three years,” he choked out.

  “I was sure you wouldn’t mind me sprucing up things a little,” she replied sweetly. “I know how much you travel and assumed you didn’t have time to make this house a real home.”

  Kelsey looked for something else to pick up, liking the purely dumbfounded expression he still wore. She started folding the lawn chair, taking her sweet time about it, and allowed it to brush against her legs. A spot of grease or dirt smudged her thigh. Rubbing at it with the palm of her hand, Kelsey slowly wiped away the stain, knowing he was watching her every move. His eyes were twin drills on her flesh. She savored it.

  “Your letter did say that I could make myself at home, and should feel free to use the yard and kitchen, didn’t it? I mean, the little efficiency in my apartment isn’t good for much more than warming soup.”

  “Yes, yes, of course I said that,” he replied absently. “But I meant you could use the kitchen, not redecorate it. And what about this jungle?”

  “Lovely, isn’t it?” Kelsey pulled her T-shirt up to her waist and efficiently tied it in a knot. Mitch looked more and more uneasy, shifting back and forth on his feet and cracking his knuckles. She watched as he dropped his gaze to her bare middle and it was all Kelsey could do to remain nonchalant. She’d waited half her life for Mitch to stop treat
ing her like a little sister. And now that he’d noticed she was a woman, she was not about to back down.

  Mitch wanted to yank his shirt off and cover her from neck to knee. Obviously she wasn’t conscious of her provocative appearance. No. Kelsey saw him as another older brother, or she wouldn’t be so casual about her state of dress…or undress. Right now, though, distinctly unbrotherly thoughts buzzed around Mitch’s mind like a swarm of bees.

  He shook his head again. Stop it, he told himself, this is just Kelsey, still Kelsey. Closing his eyes, he began to work up the indignation that had somehow evaporated in the minute or two that he’d been mindlessly staring at her.

  “No, it isn’t lovely. It’s a pain in the neck. I had the yard exactly the way it was because I travel so much and I’m not here to maintain it.” He gestured with wide arms to the profusion of plants. “Who’s going to take care of it? I’m already paying a fortune to the guy who mows while I’m away.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Kelsey replied, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

  “You? You’re going to be gone soon, aren’t you? Your mother said this move was temporary, and you’d be here only a few months. Just an internship to give you a little big-city broadcasting experience, right?”

  Kelsey smiled a little. So he wanted her gone, did he?

  “I’ve been offered a permanent job at the radio station here and I’ve accepted. I’m staying in Baltimore. Looks like we’re going to be long-term neighbors, Mr. Landlord.”

  Oh, no. No, no, no. That wasn’t part of the deal. Mitch had been able to handle Kelsey renting the middle-floor apartment when it was only for a few months and he would be away. But now…how was he supposed to stand having her right upstairs all the time…every day…every night? If seeing her T-shirt ride up over that smooth skin was enough to send heat rushing through his body, what would happen if he had to lie in bed night after night and imagine her slumbering, drowsy and sensual, just above him?

  And, of course, there were the days to worry about. Kelsey was a whirling tornado, sweeping everything around her into her energetic world. Mitch had struggled long and hard to achieve some tranquility in his life, especially after his turbulent teenage years. His now quiet existence lent itself very well to his writing, which was technical, engrossing and required his full attention. He hated distractions. No way could they be roommates.

  “Forget it.”

  “What do you mean, forget it?”

  “I mean,” he replied slowly, as if to a child, “forget it. Your mother said a few months and it’s already been six.”

  Kelsey flinched, and Mitch saw a flash of hurt in her bright green eyes. She obviously hadn’t expected him to react this way. Mitch mentally cursed his own lack of tact, wondering when Kelsey had gotten so thin-skinned.

  “You’re throwing me out? Why? I mean, I know we were never best friends or anything, but we certainly weren’t enemies.”

  How could he make her understand without appearing to be a complete fool? He could not come right out and tell her he didn’t want to live under the same roof with her because she looked as delicious as solid sin, and she was his best friend’s baby sister and, therefore, off-limits. Nor could he tell her she was a major pain in the butt and he simply didn’t want her causing trouble!

  Then Mitch thought about her parents. If they’d tossed him out the way he was trying to do to their daughter, his life could have ended up very brief or very ugly.

  At thirteen, when he’d first started spending a great deal of time with the Logan family, Mitch had been full of resentment and anger toward his parents for their neglect. Their need to constantly travel, to nurture their fascination for antiquities, had left him with a childhood full of nannies and paid caregivers. Mitch had convinced himself that no one would give a damn if he spent his teen years in self-destruct mode. If it hadn’t been for Marge Logan, an old college friend of his mother’s, Mitch would probably have continued right into juvenile hall, drug rehab or much worse. She and Ralph had given him what he really needed: a loving, stable home life. And their son, Kelsey’s older brother Nathan, had become his lifelong best friend.

  He owed them all. Big time.

  Besides, he didn’t want Kelsey living in some bad part of town. She was almost like his own little sister, and he needed to look after her just as her family would expect. And that twinge of—what should he call it—desire? Hell, put the right name on it. It was pure lust. That had just been a fluke. He hadn’t recognized her. He’d been out of the country for six long, celibate months, and she’d been the first attractive woman he’d seen when he got back. It didn’t go any deeper than that.

  “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  Mitch was trying to figure out how to put the situation right when Kelsey breathed a deep sigh, tossed her head and squared her back so straight that one thin strap of red slithered over her shoulder and disappeared down the front of her oversize T-shirt.

  Desire coursed through him again. “Stay. Please stay.”

  Kelsey couldn’t understand his quick changes in temper. His mood ran so hot and cold, it seemed she didn’t know him at all, even though she’d known him most of her life. One moment he was staring at her as if she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and the next he told her to get out. A big part of her was tempted to tell him to go to the devil, that she’d be out tomorrow.

  But Kelsey really didn’t want to leave. She loved this stately old house, even if only one floor of it was actually hers. She’d made it her home. Mitch traveled a lot, they should not see each other too often. Still, she hesitated. What about that flare of attraction? There had been a definite spark, and even now, minutes later, Kelsey could still feel his intense gaze on her skin. But it hadn’t meant anything to him, obviously. He still saw her as a nuisance he didn’t want underfoot. So what if he’d given her a second look? Since she’d bloomed into a woman, long after she had given up on such an occurrence, men had been giving her a lot of second looks…and third ones. It didn’t mean anything!

  As for her instant reaction to him, well, that wouldn’t be a problem. She’d always thought Mitch was attractive, but had grown used to it over the years. His admiration gave her a little boost of pleasure because she’d wanted it so much at age sixteen. It was a powerful moment, that was all. Not to be regretted, certainly, but also not to be repeated.

  Besides, Mitch looked utterly exhausted. His movements were slow, and his eyelids drooped. She imagined his foul mood was caused by fatigue from a couple of days of traveling across the world. That would explain his strange behavior since he’d gotten home.

  He seemed to sense her hesitation. “You’ll save me a lot of trouble. I mean, it felt weird having Fred move into my home, and I would hate to rent the apartment to a stranger.”

  Kelsey nodded, her decision made. “All right, I’ll stay.”

  Mitch released the breath he had not even realized he’d been holding. “I’m glad.”

  “Me, too.” Kelsey smiled brightly. “I promise, I’ll keep out of your hair. And you will not regret this yard.”

  If the yard was the only thing he came to regret about Kelsey living in his house, Mitch figured he’d be getting off lightly.

  2

  “WHAT IS THE REAL DEFINITION of sexiness?”

  Lady Love paused for a moment, letting listeners think about tonight’s topic. She always opened her show with a hook, getting them interested enough to stay tuned even though it was ten o’clock on a work night. One of the greatest compliments she’d ever been paid was when a caller told her he always got in trouble for being late to work, because he just couldn’t turn off her show until it ended every night.

  “Sometimes people confuse good looks with sexiness. I’m sure all of us have seen photographs of the beautiful people of the world, or stopped on the street to watch some physically perfect person walk by. No question, physical beauty works to attract us. But be honest.
Ladies, who makes your knees shake, your lips quiver and your heart beat like it’s going to explode from your chest…a man so gorgeous he’s prettier than you are? Or is it a man exuding confidence? The one who has that look in his eyes, that look that tells you he’s undressed you mentally and already brought you to mind-blowing fulfillment?”

  She took a deep breath, purposely exhaling across the microphone, knowing that, in apartments or cars around Baltimore, her audience was doing the same thing. She let the tension build, let them fantasize a little, then continued.

  “Gentlemen, you know what I’m talking about. A perfect model type might catch your eye, but be truthful…she’s easily forgotten. So what kind of woman gets under your skin, like an itch you can’t quite reach? Is it the brunette sitting at a nearby table who eats a piece of fruit like she’s making love to it? Is it the woman in the tailored suit, the one with the glasses and businesslike hairstyle, who’s got a curve in her hips and a long, slow stride that makes your mouth water?

  “Sexiness…not just good looks. Is it the walk, the sigh, the mouth, or the steady stare? It’s all in the eye of the beholder. So, tell me what you see as sexy. Call me. This is Lady Love on WAJO and I want to hear from you.”

  Kelsey Logan leaned back in her seat and spun a George Michael CD that fit tonight’s topic perfectly. Leaning back in her chair, she listened to the music and allowed the lyrics to enhance her mood. She studied the fluorescent tube light above her head and thought about her own definition of sexy. One male image came to mind—strong, confident, intelligent, with lips that made her weak just thinking about them. Lady Love’s definition of sexy lived right downstairs from her. She smiled. By the time the song ended, Kelsey was well prepared for tonight’s Night Whispers.

  FOUR HOURS LATER, when the show was over, Kelsey wearily slipped out of the booth, nodding to the late-night deejay who would run the graveyard two-to-six shift. He barely looked at her. She sighed in resignation. The guy still hadn’t gotten over the fact that the station manager, Jack McKenzie, had given her the ten-to-two slot for Night Whispers, even though she was a rookie intern with only small-town radio experience.