But even more intriguing than her sweet attempts at friendship were her temper explosions. She had a hair-trigger temper that was a force to be reckoned with and that made his blood run hot. When she became frustrated with his behavior, her gray eyes darkened like a fierce storm rolling in from the sea. She usually spat a single put-down at him then stomped away, murmuring to herself a list of creative insults that could, at times, make a sailor blush.
She was maddeningly adorable to him, and he could feel his guard beginning to slip.
* * * *
“Who is that luscious hunk of man doing your renovations, and why did I not know about him? I would have worn something more attractive than running gear and sneakers.”
“Oh, he’s doing the work on my house instead of Jaime. He is sort of walking perfection, isn’t he?” Tessa grinned. “He’s a horrible grump, though. Downright rude, actually. But, Jaime says he’s the best.”
Alex turned to her. “The best at what, exactly?”
Tessa punched him in the arm. “Alex! You’re terrible!”
Alex laughed and said lasciviously, “Yes. Yes I am. But if it turns out by some miracle that he’s gay, I’ve got some wood he can work with.”
Following their run, Alex and Tessa walked around downtown, ducking in and out of the unique little shops, stopping for lunch at their favorite pub that featured a tiny little bar area with a fireplace you could literally stand in when there wasn’t a roaring fire. They’d been best friends since kindergarten, and she had missed him more than she realized while he was in Europe on business. He was the only person she’d trusted to read the outrageous storylines that began to pour out of her in high school. He was always completely honest.
“Ooooo! That last scene was sick, sweetie.” She’d ask if she should eliminate it and he’d reply, “Don’t you dare! It was hot as hell!”
Enjoying mugs of hot cider by the fire, Alex regaled her with details of his trip. By the time their french onion soup arrived, talk of Europe was over and she was filling him in on the progress of her book and the upcoming photo shoot. It was over dessert that he began needling her about her love life, or lack thereof.
“Don’t start with me, Alex,” Tessa warned. “You know that I just don’t have any interest in finding somebody. I faced the facts a long time ago. I’m asexual. End of story. I’ve never found a man who interests me, and the two idiots I wasted my time with in college confirmed the fact to me that sex and relationships are not worth the trouble. Really just not my thing. Remember, Alex, I may write a completely different kind of subject matter, but I consume romances when it comes to my own reading. If it exists, love should be more than just”—she paused to find the right word—“meh. Besides, how would I even go about looking for someone to be interested in? I mean, the bar scene? Ick. And the odds that the perfect man is just going to fall at my feet are slim to none.”
Alex grasped her hand. “Honey, I think it’s possible that you’ve beaten the odds. I don’t know much about the man who’s in your home right now, but he must be a good guy if he’s friends with your brother and he’s definitely the picture of physical perfection. Not a bad place to start.” He winked.
Tessa stuck her tongue out and gave Alex the most ladylike raspberry she could muster.
* * * *
Greatly in need of activity to keep him from conjuring up the image of Tessa and the Euro-slime, Gavan dove into his work. He worked his way through the house, checking and rechecking measurements in every room, taking notes for the materials he’d need to pick up. Downstairs, he finished double-checking the measurements in Tessa’s library. Unlike the rest of the house, the library was decorated in a more formal fashion with kind of a gothic feel. The first room of the library was Tessa’s workspace. There was a large gas fireplace, complete with a massive, carved mahogany mantle. Across from the fireplace, two computers rested on either end of the immense, walnut burl wood desk. There were intricate carvings on the sides and legs of the desk, and it had large lion’s claw-feet. A burgundy, high back, button-tufted leather chair sat behind the desk. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed down the thought of himself and Tessa in that big chair naked with her facing him, her legs spread wide and draped over either armrest of the big chair, her taut nipples brushing against his chest as she pumped up and down, holding her lush ass with one hand while he stroked her hard little clit with the thumb of his other hand.
He rubbed his hand over his face and moved on. The sitting area of the library was more spacious. Every inch of wall space was covered by floor-to-fourteen-foot-ceiling, built-in bookshelves, with the exception of the two sets of French doors and the space occupied by the larger version of the fireplace in the working area. There were two wingback chairs and a plush sofa, each with its own reading lamp, arranged so that the fireplace was the focal point.
He noticed a discreetly placed state-of-the-art stereo system on one of the shelves. Out of curiosity, he picked up what he assumed was the remote and turned it on. The room instantly filled with a moody melody that had a sensuous beat. It was ominous, but at the same time incredibly sexy. The CD case lying on top of the stereo caught his eye. Enigma. He stood in the room for a few moments, listening to the music, and thought of Tessa on her back, head thrown back with her dirty-blonde tresses fanned around her in front of the enormous fireplace, his faced buried between her legs as she moaned in time with this music playing in the background.
Ga! Get it tagether, man.
He turned off the music and quickly finished so he could leave the room that occupied so much of Tessa’s time that he could feel her presence even though she wasn’t there.
The main part of the house was the great room, which was comprised of the kitchen, dining area, and family room. Just off the spacious and well-appointed kitchen was a greenhouse-type breakfast nook. Between the kitchen and family room area was an enormous dining table that made Gavan wonder if she had it just in case some king and his knights stopped by. The armchairs on either end looked more like thrones than chairs. In the corner was another gas fireplace that was a smaller version of the gigantic wood-burning one facing it in the family room. Apparently, our Tessa not only likes to surround herself with big things. She seems tae really like fireplaces, too, he mused to himself as he turned to see another gas fireplace in the kitchen nestled below the staircase. Now, thoroughly entranced with the glimpses into Tessa, he quickly finished the measuring on the first floor and moved upstairs to her bedroom to check out the modifications on her closet and master bath.
The stairs led to the second floor balcony, which wrapped in a U-shape around three walls of the house. Once at the top, Gavan turned to see that the balcony overlooked the great room below. He admitted to himself then that this was a special house. The location was perfect. It was remote enough that there was complete privacy, but only twenty minutes outside of town and Philadelphia was only an hour away. Jaime had told him about the house right after Tessa bought it, so proud of his sister and her eye for unique beauty.
From his vantage point he looked down on the room below, marveling that despite the size of the room, there was warmth and coziness that he found more than a little inviting. He mentally applauded her for not making the house a frilly, ruffled, feminine frenzy awash in pastels. Not that it looked like a man lived there, but a man could live there. There was a log-cabin feel, lots of rich, dark wood, and rustic, well-made but beautiful furniture. Feminine whimsy, however, was evident in Tessa’s collection of bear, moose, and elk trinkets that were placed thoughtfully around the room and resided, discreetly, in fixtures and pieces of furniture. Nothing was overdone, though. He found it easy to picture himself on a lazy Sunday afternoon, lounging with Tessa on the big, overstuffed, Navajo-print sofa with the immense hearth alight with a roaring fire.
He brought himself back to reality and felt a pang of longing in his chest and continued on with his preliminaries. Moving around to the left of the stairs, he approached the set of double
doors that led to the master bedroom.
The basic decor of the rest of the house continued into the master bedroom, although, here Tessa had managed to blend in just the right amount of femininity to make him tighten with desire. Immediately, the scent of lavender invaded his senses. Not the perfumey kind that so many women wore, but the scent of true, field-picked lavender. It reminded him of home, of Scotland. The furniture was carved mahogany, and the bed, her bed, was in the center of the room. Like everything else around her, the king-size bed was bigger than it needed to be for the slip of a woman. The big brass headboard had oversize, hand-painted, porcelain finials and matching embellishments. Gavan surmised from the weighty feel of it that it was a true antique. The bedding looked like a cloud covered in beige eyelet. The lass definitely had a flair for combining maximum beauty with maximum inviting comfort. And of course, in the corner was a large, ornately carved stone fireplace.
He measured in the closet and stepped into her bathroom, which was decorated with the same impeccable taste as the rest of the house. While it was completely modern, the tiles and fixtures helped to extend the general rustic feel of the rest of the house. The huge shower was tiled with grayish-green stone that also covered the floor. Across from the shower was an oversize, old-fashioned claw-foot tub. A closer look told him that it was a reproduction, but he guessed it wasn’t an easy item to find. Built at the level of the sides of the claw-foot, in the wall at the head of the tub was a small fireplace. Once again, he allowed his mind to wander momentarily and pictured himself in the tub, reclining, Tessa’s back against his chest. Her hands gripping the sides with white knuckles while his hands were below the water, one squeezing and kneading her nipple, the other between her legs, three fingers pumping in and out of her hot, wet folds, his thumb stroking her clit.
He would whisper close to her ear so that it became wet from the humidity of his breath.
“Do you like that, my love? I wanna feel you come on me, squeeze my fingers, and cover my hand with your sweet cream.”
She would tumble then, squeezing and bucking, his hand would leave her breast to hold her hips. He would come with her, partly from her back stroking against his hard cock, trapped between her and his stomach, and partly from watching her rise to ecstasy. And he would know that he had done that to her, he had propelled her into bliss’s sweet embrace. They would talk and laugh and kiss until the water grew cold. Shaking himself back into this world again, he reminded himself, Isna’ gonna happen man. Ya doona need the likes of any woman, and she obviously already has a man. Unwanted jealousy flared though his system as he remembered that she was out with that Jag-driving jack-off. He rechecked all of the measurements and went back downstairs.
Focusing on the details of the kitchen specs was the only way Gavan could manage to keep his mind off Tessa and her European lover for five-minute stretches.
Included in the kitchen were plans to build pullout counter extensions that locked in at a level lower than the actual counter, giving the diminutive chef a cutting and prep area that was more her height. When not in use, the extension simply slid into place under the counters. In order to reach the cabinets that extended to nine feet high, tilt-out step stools, easily pulled out with the foot, hidden under the lower cabinets, were to be installed. Her original plans were attached to Jaime’s professional workups and Gavan inspected them with surprised admiration. He noted that her illustrations were quite good, and even without Jaime’s accompanying details he would have been able to recognize her intentions. Her descriptions, however, bordered on ridiculously overdone. Holding his palm to his forehead in disbelief, he read her long explanation as to why the counter extensions were necessary, options for the surface should the surface on the actual countertops not be available, as well as reasons why those options were feasible. A narrative with several examples of how the extensions would be used, so that Jaime would have a complete understanding of her intentions, was neatly printed in the lower right-hand corner.
“Aye, she’s a writer,” he said to himself.
For a few hours, he managed to keep his mind mostly on the kitchen although it sometimes took more effort than others. So, when he looked at the clock and realized that Tessa had been out with that greasy, sports-car-driving bleach blond for more than seven hours, his agitation increased exponentially. He’d been anxiously looking forward to her return home. How is it that in only a week’s time he had literally begun to ache for her? He didn’t understand how it could be possible, but there it was. There was something about her that just got to him from the word go. From her beautiful face, curvy body, and vivid gray eyes to her intelligence and creativity, her bad temper, and her habit of talking to herself when that temper flared. His investigation of her home and what it told him about her didn’t do anything but make the ache sharper and more defined.
By six o’clock, he had worked himself into a rage, envisioning Tessa and Alex in an endless string of intimate scenarios.
* * * *
After several hours and a few more hot ciders by the fire, Alex drove Tessa home. “I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you so much,” Tessa told him as he opened her door for her to climb out of the car.
“Me, too. Double.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Now don’t forget what I said about that hunk of man in there.” He flashed her a dazzling smile. She shoved him on the shoulder, kissed his cheek, and ran to the house to escape the cold.
* * * *
“Well, it’s about time you’re back.”
He stood in her kitchen, feet planted shoulder width apart, scowling, arms crossed over his chest.
“Wait. What?” she said, her confusion evident.
Uncrossing his arms, he put one hand on his hip and pushed the other through his hair as he began to pace.
“Uh, I’ve had questions for you. I’ve tried tae work around them but I…”
It was a complete lie and ridiculous at that, but it was the only cover he could come up with to hide the true reason behind his unexplainable rage.
She threw up her hands and shouted, “What are you talking about? You had questions, you could have called Jaime. He knows about all of this in detail. You don’t need me.”
Moving to her, he ground out, “I couldna’ reach Jaime.” Lie. “And you were off all day with another man, doing who knows what so I couldna’ continue working.”
She fired back, “First of all, I wasn’t aware that I need to be here to oversee you at all times. If that’s the case, we have a problem here because I am not a construction foreman. And second, I was not with another man, I was with a man, who happens to be my best friend since we were five. Not that it’s any of your business, you big, giant, arrogant pain in my ass.”
* * * *
Hoo! It felt good to get that out, but he was overwhelming her with his nearness, his energy stirring her insides so that she couldn’t think straight. She turned on her heels to get away from him.
Gavan chased after her, grabbed her upper arm, and spun her around to face him holding both her arms tightly in his firm grip so she couldn’t move. But stronger than his hands on her arms was his gaze, its intensity arresting. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried in vain to form words to take control of the situation when he dipped his head and captured her mouth with his.
Initially, she protested, the sounds of her struggle swallowed by his mouth. He released her to wrap his arms around her and pull her body against his. She softened then, rose to her tiptoes, and curved into him. She slid her hands up to press her palms against his strong, warm chest. He moved one hand from her waist, grasped her jaw, and tilted her head back to better receive his kiss. She returned it fervently, parting her lips to allow him entrance when his tongue stroked them. A moan rose in her throat as he explored her mouth, swiping across her teeth and teasing her tongue, encouraging it to join his. She responded, and his tongue slid against hers, velvet stroking velvet. His hand moved from her jaw and his fingers threaded into her hair at the nape
of her neck.
An awareness of every inch of her body was accompanied by a fuzziness that blocked out everything but the two of them. Her skin was alight wherever he touched her and she was completely intoxicated by his strong, soft lips. She drifted into the pleasant haze surrounding them and threaded her fingers into his hair to pull him closer.
He broke the kiss and drew back from her. Her lids lifted and she looked into his eyes to find them ablaze with desire. His gaze searched her face, seemingly imploring her to urge him on. She licked her tingling lips and a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest. Her breathing was ragged, her womb tightened in pulses, a wave of need for him emanated from her very core. The force of her reaction to him was unfamiliar and it frightened her. What she felt now was different, more than the fantasies about him she’d been entertaining since they first met. This was not merely lust, this was a desire to be completely taken and possessed by this man.
As suddenly as he’d initiated the kiss, he released her and stepped back as though she’d stung him. Confusion filled her.
He looked down at the floor, pushed the heel of his right hand to his eye, and stammered, “I-I’m sorry, lass. I doona’ know what came over me. I shouln’a done that. G’night.” And he strode quickly to the door to leave.
Infuriated and confused beyond comprehension, Tessa ran to catch the door before it could shut and stepped out, the cold air slapping her out of the warm, sultry mist he had wrapped around her with his kiss.
“Mr. Murdoch?” she said more firmly than she’d intended. He stopped in his tracks and turned his face, not back to her, but only to the side, signaling that he was listening. “I think this isn’t working out. Please send me a bill for the work you’ve done so far and I’ll see that you’re paid immediately. Good night.”
Lovell, Cooper - Tessa's Highlander (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 3