She hesitated a moment. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Eli. I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” He flicked a hooded glance over to her before looking out the windshield again. “Have you had dinner?”
“No. But I’m sure there’s something at home in the fridge I can warm up.” She eyed him with curiosity. “How did you happen to get stuck rescuing me in the rain?”
“Justin and I were playing pool at his house when he talked to you. I volunteered to come get you.”
“I see.” Frankie wanted to ask him why he’d offered to come out in the downpour to help her, especially since the last time she’d seen him, she’d told him she didn’t want to talk to him.
They stopped at a red light. Eli picked up his cell phone from the seat divider, dialing from memory. While they waited for the light to turn green, he placed an order for take-out Thai food.
“You missed dinner with Justin and Lily in order to come get me, didn’t you?” she asked as the traffic light changed from amber to green and Eli accelerated down the street.
He shrugged. “I’ll see them next week—Justin’s barbecuing steaks for Granddad on Saturday.”
“Nevertheless, I’m sorry you had to miss dinner tonight because of me.”
“Trust me, it’s not a problem.” He glanced sideways, a brief smile curving his mouth. “I can have dinner at Justin’s anytime. Rescuing a pretty woman is more important—especially if she’ll agree to share Thai takeout with me.”
His smile eased the uncomfortable, faintly unsettled tension in Frankie, and she smiled back at him. “I have a bottle of wine that would be perfect with Thai food.”
“Sounds good.”
Eli braked, slotting the truck into an empty space in front of a Thai restaurant at the foot of Queen Anne.
“I’ll be right back.” He left the truck’s engine running, the heater continuing to blow warm air on Frankie’s damp feet. The windshield wipers swished rhythmically as he jogged through the rain and disappeared inside the restaurant. Moments later, he returned. The two brown bags he tucked behind the seat filled the cab’s interior with mouthwatering smells.
“What kept you at work so late?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking slot and headed for her condo building.
“A department staff meeting,” she told him. “Even though I’m subbing in English Lit, I’m still technically a part of the research department. In order to stay involved with decisions on future projects, I have to attend staff meetings.”
“Isn’t it unusual to have someone in research lecturing in the classroom?” Eli asked, curious.
“I suppose it is,” she replied. “But the circumstances were unique. The English department needed someone immediately, and not only was I temporarily unassigned, since I’d just completed a project, but I have a doctorate in English Lit and I’m qualified to teach.” She shrugged. “It was an easy fix.”
“Do you enjoy the change?” He glanced sideways at her. “Or are you counting the days until you’re back on your regular schedule?”
“I’m enjoying it,” she told him with a smile. “But then, I love my job in research, too.”
“When will you go back to it—next quarter?”
“I’m not sure. The return date for the professor on emergency leave is open-ended.”
A few moments of silence passed until they reached Frankie’s building. Eli parked and got out, jogging around the truck to open her door; together, they ran through the rain to the lobby.
Inside Frankie’s condo, she slipped out of her raincoat and tugged off her boots.
“You can leave your wet things here,” she told Eli as she picked up her purse and briefcase. She dropped them on the seat cushion of an armchair as she passed it on her way into the kitchen.
He shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his boots before following her. “Where’s the bottle of wine?”
“In the cabinet below the coffeemaker.” She lifted plates down from an upper cupboard while Eli set the bags of Thai takeout on the table and located the wine.
Frankie went up on tiptoe to reach stemmed wine glasses on a higher shelf, but they were just barely beyond her fingertips.
“Here, let me.” Eli stretched above her, his chest pressing against her back as he easily lifted two glasses and set them on the countertop.
His body radiated heat; she felt it from her shoulders to her knees, his chest lightly touching her back, his thighs barely brushing hers. Her eyes closed, and she drew in a deep breath.
Eli stilled. Then his palms settled on the countertop on each side of her, his big body bracketing hers. His head bent, and she felt him brush his face against her hair.
“Frankie,” his deep voice murmured in her ear. “I’m sorry I upset you the other day at the barn. I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence. I saw you with a horse as big as a mountain and instinct took over. I only wanted to protect you.”
Frankie turned, looking up into his face as she searched his eyes. She found only sincerity.
“I’d like to swear I’d never do that again, but I can’t lie to you.” His face hardened. “If I thought you were in danger, I’d probably act on instinct and try to protect you.”
Any remaining anger leached away, receding behind a warm swell of emotion and leaving Frankie amused at his expression. Eli was braced, clearly expecting her to be angry at him.
“As far as apologies go, that’s just about the worst one I’ve ever heard,” she told him, sliding her hands up the fine wool sleeves covering his forearms, over the swell of biceps under his black V-neck sweater, until her fingers curled over the slope of his shoulders. “You’re sorry but you’d do it again?” She laughed at the chagrined look on his face. “Couldn’t you have stopped at ‘I’m sorry’?”
“I should have,” he agreed, the taut line of his mouth easing into a slow, sexy grin. “But I didn’t think lying was a good plan.”
“Will you at least promise to ask me if I know what I’m doing the next time, and if I want or need help before you barge in and save me?” she asked, enjoying the sense of leashed power beneath her fingers and palms.
“I promise I’ll try.” He bent his head, resting his forehead against hers. “You scared the hell out of me, Frankie. Compared to the size of that horse, you’re tiny.”
“I suppose I am,” she conceded. “And since you hadn’t seen Daisy before, you had no way of knowing she’s as harmless as a friendly puppy. But still …” She eyed him, wanting to make her point. “You need to ask me next time.”
A frown drew his dark brows down, and he leaned back to search her features. “Just for the record—are you doing anything else dangerous on a regular basis?”
“Oh, no.” Frankie smiled up at him, laughing aloud when relief erased the worry lines. She lifted on her toes, pressing an impulsive, affectionate kiss on his mouth.
Eli immediately caught her close, taking over as he ravaged her mouth with a possessive, claiming kiss. When he lowered her back on her heels, she was breathless.
“Maybe we should eat,” he suggested, deep voice rasping.
“Yes,” she said, her own voice husky with arousal. “That’s a great idea.”
“In here at the table—or in the living room?” he asked.
“Living room, I think. We can turn on the news or a movie.”
“Sounds good.” Eli poured wine into the glasses and carried them into the living room, returning to carry off the plates, utensils and napkins as Frankie set them on the counter.
Frankie joined him with the two take-out bags, which she immediately unloaded onto the low coffee table. Eli opened the first few white boxes, and the aroma of spicy food reminded them both that they were ravenous.
“That was delicious,” Frankie said after emptying her plate. She curled her feet under her and settled back on the sofa, a glass of wine cradled in her hands.
Eli set his glass on the coffee table and, in one easy mov
e, tugged her feet across the sofa cushion and propped them on his thigh. Startled, Frankie was about to protest when he ran his thumb down the arch of her right foot and pressed.
“Ohh,” she groaned, half closing her eyes. “That feels so wonderful.”
“Good.”
She lifted her lashes to find him watching her, a slow smile curving his mouth, his eyes that smoky, darker blue she loved.
He shrugged, his hands continuing to massage her foot. “Just part of my attempt to seduce you, ma’am,” he drawled.
She laughed. “Where did you get the cowboy accent?” she asked.
“It’s part of the seduction,” he told her. “Women love cowboys, don’t they?”
“Let me think. Except for Justin, the only cowboys I’ve seen are ones in the movies. Definitely a lot to love there, so, yes, I suppose women do love cowboys.”
“See? The cowboy vibe works. That’s where the ‘ma’am’ came from.” He winked at her. “Throw in foot massage, Thai food and flowers and a guy has a chance with a lady.”
Frankie rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Does this line actually work with the women you date?”
“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “Sometimes they just say thank you for the foot rub and tell me to go home.” He picked up her other foot and rubbed her arch.
She nearly groaned aloud again. “I won’t tell you to go home,” she murmured.
He shot her a look from beneath his lashes, his eyes flashing blue. “Does that mean I can stay the night?”
Frankie knew the seemingly casual question was anything but—Eli had made no secret that he wanted her. She loved his bluntness because it freed her from the usual games men played. Was she ready to sleep with him? She wanted him, but the wariness that demanded she protect her heart still told her to wait. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for, exactly. She’d long since moved past believing she was seeing Eli only as part of a scheme to distract Harry. And she knew her love of independence was fast taking second place to the sheer pleasure of sharing time with Eli. But Frankie believed in listening to her instincts and those instincts were whispering wait. Reluctantly, she heeded the warning.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Not yet.”
“At least you didn’t say never,” he told her with a wry grin. “I’ll just have to keep trying.” He lifted her bare feet from his thigh and set them on the cushion. “We need music,” he declared, pushing to his feet.
“Why?” Taken by surprise, she looked up at him.
“Because dancing is the next item on the seduction list,” he told her, his gaze flicking over the room, stopping on the radio and CD player on the shelf below the television set. He knelt on one knee to switch off the audio on the TV and turn on the radio. Instantly, the room was filled with a slow, bluesy tune from Seattle’s jazz station.
“Nice music.” He rose and walked to the sofa. “Dance with me, Frankie.”
Lifting the glass from her hand, he set it on the table and caught her fingers in his to draw her up from the soft cushions.
He tucked her close with his hands at her waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers testing the silky black hair at his nape as his arms hugged her closer. They moved slowly in time to the music, bodies swaying in the lamplit room.
Eli’s arms tightened, his hands smoothing over the soft strip of bare skin in the space between the hem of her sweater and the waistband of her skirt.
“Should I worry about losing my head and being seduced?” Frankie murmured against his throat.
She felt his lips curve against her temple. “Not unless you want to be. Of course,” he drawled, his powerful thighs moving against hers as they swayed to the music, “any time you want to lure me into your bed, feel free. I’m just a poor innocent country boy, so you could probably have your way with me before I knew what you were up to.”
Frankie tilted her head back, laughing as she met his gaze. “You’re an innocent country boy? Is this part of the cowboy-vibe thing?”
“Yup. Be gentle with me.”
Frankie was laughing when he kissed her. His warm lips curved in a smile as they settled over hers.
“I missed you,” she sighed when his head lifted and she tucked her face against the strong, warm column of his throat. Each breath she took drew in the subtle tang of his aftershave and, beneath it, the elusive male scent she’d come to associate with Eli. “Let’s not fight anymore.”
His arms tightened reflexively, pressing her closer.
“No,” he rasped in agreement. “Let’s not fight.”
Their bodies moved together, the very air thickening with heat.
“I missed you, too.”
Frankie’s heart slammed in her throat. “Did you?” she whispered.
He nodded, his cheek, faintly rough with beard stubble, moving against her hair. “Too much.” His voice was deeper, rougher. He stopped dancing, his mouth claiming hers with unmistakable desire.
Chapter Twelve
Frankie felt surrounded by Eli as he swung her off her feet and carried her to the sofa. His much bigger frame crowded hers on the wide cushions, but Frankie didn’t care. She was swept up in the heat that exploded between them.
This was what she’d always wanted, needed, and had never found in any man she’d dated before. The passion that roared out of control between them was irresistible, and Frankie didn’t try to fight it. Confident in his willingness to stop if she said no, she let desire pull her under, reveling in the shudder that shook his big frame when she slid her hands under his sweater and stroked her palms up the length of his bare back.
Eli tugged at her sweater, his hand flattening over the bare skin of her ribcage above her waistband.
When his fingers brushed over the soft swell of her breast above her bra, Frankie murmured against his mouth, shifting beneath the heavy thigh covering her own.
Long heated moments passed before Eli gradually eased them back from the edge, his kisses soothing rather than stoking the fire between them. At last, he lifted his head and looked down at her.
“Honey, if you’re not going to ask me to stay for breakfast, we’d better go back to watching TV.”
Dazed, Frankie stared up at him, struggling to process the switch from passion to practicality.
“I …”
The phone rang, startling both of them.
“Do you need to answer that?” Eli asked.
“I suppose I should.”
He lifted away from her, stretched across the sofa and grabbed the phone from the end table and handed it to her. Frankie sat upright and slid her feet to the floor.
“Hello?” She frowned slightly. “Yes, this is Frankie Fairchild.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, hello, Nicholas. How nice to hear from you.”
Beside her, Eli’s big body tensed. She glanced at him to find him watching her, eyes narrowed, his face inscrutable.
She paused, listening. “Much as I’d love to, I’m afraid I’m busy on Saturday. I’m so sorry.”
Frankie exchanged a few more polite comments with Nicholas, then rushed to end the call, clearly impatient—and mad. “I’m so sorry, Nicholas, but my date just arrived. I’m afraid I have to ring off—lovely to hear from you. Yes, I’ll tell Mom hello for you. Bye.”
She switched the phone off and looked at Eli.
“That was Nicholas Dean,” she said unnecessarily. “He told me he ran into Harry and Mom this afternoon and they mentioned how much I’ve been wanting to see the new musical at the Pantages. And since he has tickets, he thought we could go together.”
“I bet he did,” Eli said, his voice a growl.
“Harry’s still matchmaking—and with Nicholas.” Frankie could hardly believe it. “He knows you and I have been dating. And so does Mom. Why on earth would she have gone along with Harry nudging Nicholas to ask me out?”
“I don’t know. I thought she liked me,” Eli commented, a muscle flexing along his jawline. He stood, raking his hair back. “Maybe she lik
es the idea of you paired with Nicholas better.”
“Oh, no, Eli. I’m sure that’s not true.” Frankie rose to slide her arms around his waist, and Eli instantly slipped his arms around her, tugging her forward until she rested against his hard length. “It’s far more likely that Harry was not so subtly encouraging Nicholas to call me and Mom wasn’t able to stop him. You know how Harry is when he gets an idea fixed in his head—he’s like a bulldozer with no brakes.”
“That’s true.” Eli nodded, his hands smoothing over her waist. “And apparently he’s still fixated on getting you and Nicholas together.” He looked down at her. “You’re sure you’re not interested in him?”
She shook her head.
“Thank God.” He narrowed his eyes over her. “I’ve always liked Nicholas, but I’m not sure we’d stay friends if you went out with him.”
“Are you saying you might be unfriendly if you ran into him?” Frankie asked.
“I’m saying I’m not normally a violent man, but I’m making no promises if you start dating other men.”
“Just so we’re clear,” she said slowly, suppressing a smile. “Are you saying you want us to be exclusive and not date other people?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, and you know it,” he told her, eyes gleaming with amusement.
“I just wanted to be clear. And to be even more clear, you’re asking me, not telling me, correct?”
He nodded. “Absolutely. I would never order an intelligent, independent woman such as yourself not to date other men. I’m sure you’d call me a neanderthal if I did.”
“Yes,” she told him primly. “I certainly would.”
“Then I can count myself lucky we’re in agreement.” He picked her up, her feet dangling in the air, and kissed her.
The kiss was hot, carnal and a fierce declaration of possession, branding Frankie as surely as if he’d marked her. When he lowered her feet to the floor, she had to clutch his arms to keep from staggering.
Beauty and the Wolf / Their Miracle Twins Page 13