by Lori Foster
Touched by his caring, Eve snuggled closer. “That’s so nice of you.”
He grouched under his breath, then said, “It’s not a big deal, so don’t act like it is.”
So touchy about being nice. Eve hid her smile in his shoulder. “Dean, I hate to say this, but right now, I’m not sure Cam can even afford the shingles.”
His fingers slid lower on her bottom, along the back of her thigh, then up and under her skirt. “She shouldn’t have to. Lorna had provisions for these things.”
“If you’re hoping for Lorna to pay you, you’re delusional. That woman never—”
“Shh.” His fingers encountered her panties and teased along the leg band. “I’m taking care of it.”
Breath catching, Eve closed her eyes and concentrated on getting control of herself. Dean had just taken a giant step into his sister’s life, and she wanted to talk to him about it.
But she couldn’t, not with his hand there, doing scandalous, wonderful things to her. “You need to…to stop that.”
“Okay.” Her feet touched the floor, Dean walked her backward, and suddenly her backside bumped into the wall. “You still have five minutes, right?”
“Only five.”
He smiled, and insinuated his hand right back in that tantalizing spot.
It was downright cruel to do this to her. “Five minutes might work for you, buster, but it wouldn’t—” He shifted his fingers, and she gasped. “Oh God, how do you do that?”
His mouth touched her temple as his fingers moved over her, in her. “Relax, okay? Let me have a little quick fun.”
Eve could barely keep still. The play of his fingers was both gentle and very determined. A building ache threatened to take hold. “But, Dean…I don’t have time to redress.”
“You won’t have to.” He interrupted his sexual torment long enough to tug her panties down over her hips. They dropped to her knees, then to her ankles.
“Step out of them.”
She couldn’t. “You’ll get me all messy and everyone who looks at me will know what I’ve done.”
His soft laugh affected her like a lick. “No one will know, I promise.” Bending to one knee, he urged her out of the panties, then kissed a path up her thigh to her hip bone. When he stood before her again, he looked into her eyes and Eve was a goner.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Believe it.” He cupped his right hand between her legs, and with his left, he opened his jeans, then handed her a condom. “Get a move on, woman. We’re running out of time.”
Staring down at his thick erection, Eve’s mouth went dry. He’d barely kissed her. Her breasts were still safely tucked behind fabric. He’d done so little to prepare her—but somehow, that only made it more exciting.
She glanced at the sliding doors to her right. Her backyard was private, but it still seemed risqué to do this here, in the light of day, mostly dressed.
She couldn’t resist.
After locking her gaze with Dean’s, Eve used her teeth to open the condom packet. New urgency sparked in his eyes. “Tease,” he accused.
“Look who’s talking.” Her hands shook when she cradled him in her palms. So warm and firm…She stroked once, twice, let her thumb slide over the silky head, spreading a warm drop of sleek fluid.
Dean’s breath caught. “Get on with it.”
“Hush.” Taking more time than necessary, Eve rolled the rubber onto his erection. His eyes closed and he gave one ragged groan, and then his mouth was on hers, kissing her long and deep as he maneuvered their positions, lifting her against the wall, helping her to wrap one leg around his waist.
“Hold on to my shoulders.”
Eve did—and he sank into her. “Dean.”
Covering her mouth again, he used his tongue to mimic the rhythmic thrusting inside her body. Lights sparked behind Eve’s closed eyelids. Tension coiled, surprising her at the fast approach.
Dean tilted her hips upward, adjusting her so that with each in and out stroke, his erection made contact with her clitoris. Her nails bit into his shoulders; he held her tighter to him, and a climax ripped through her.
She freed her mouth to cry out, aware of him watching her, taking pleasure from her loss of control. It didn’t matter. Nothing had ever felt like this. It was too much. Too incredible.
Way too easy and overwhelming.
As the pleasure faded, she had to suck deep breaths to keep from crying. She felt so…lax and drained.
So…addicted.
Last night had been phenomenal and she’d thought about it, about him, ever since. But today proved that Dean Conor had a unique effect on her, that he did things to her no other man could. Whether he had half the night or a mere five minutes, he could turn her to mush, make her forget all her convictions, probably even her pride.
He almost scared her. Almost. “You’re a wizard or something, right?”
Dean had his face resting in the crook of her shoulder, his hot breath pelting against her throat. “I have one minute left, honey. Let me use it to catch my breath, please.”
She smiled easily, charmed by his casual attitude toward things carnal and awed by his powerful machismo. He slumped against her and spoke in a raw whisper, and still he seemed more of a man than any man she’d ever known.
Eve drifted her fingers through his thick, light brown hair. “You should probably be in a bed.”
“With you? Hell of an idea.”
She laughed as she shook her head. “No. Recuperating.”
“Now what fun would that be?” He straightened, searched her face, and kissed her again before allowing her legs to slide down until she stood on her own. “You need a trip to the bathroom?”
“Um, yes.” Seeing her panties on the floor between them, Eve shooed him away. “But you go first.” She wasn’t sure her legs would work yet.
He cupped her face and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “All right.” He shucked up his jeans and went back through the house to the powder room.
As soon as he’d left, Eve retrieved her underwear and dashed into the connecting laundry room to refresh herself. It shook her, how easily he turned her on. Like he had a magic switch he flipped. A button that he knew exactly when to push.
If she were smart, she’d put some distance between them.
Dean reappeared. He managed to look both cocky and vulnerable. “So, nine tonight is good for you?”
Secret places in her body quaked at just the thought. “You still want to? I mean, after we’ve just done…this.” Surely he was satisfied now.
“Yeah. I still want to. Maybe more now than before.”
Because that was exactly how she felt, Eve let out a sigh of relief, and smiled. “Okay then.”
His mouth twitched into a grin. “You realize that means I win the bet.”
Her confusion turned quickly to comprehension. “Now wait a minute—”
“Can’t. You’re going to be late.” With two big steps, he reached her. “But don’t worry. You’ll enjoy paying up.”
“Dean—”
He kissed the denial from her lips and left her standing there, mute, annoyed, and filled with scalding anticipation.
DEAN drove to the car dealership by rote. He’d only been there once, but luckily his subconscious knew the way, because his brain sure as shit wasn’t on directions.
When he’d gone to see Eve, it hadn’t been for a quickie. Just the opposite. He’d planned to cancel on her, and leave it at that. Whatever happened, happened.
But he’d taken one look at her, heard her, breathed in her fresh-from-the-shower scent, and his plans went haywire.
He didn’t know if he should be annoyed, bemused, or embarrassed. Jesus. If he kept up like this, she’d think he was a sexual control freak. Not that he minded controlling her. Hell no. He loved it.
And that was the problem.
After leaving her the night before, he’d thought of her at least a hundred times. Jacki said something ridic
ulous, and he thought about telling Eve. Cam climbed up on a roof in a rainstorm, and he wanted to rail to Eve about it.
Lorna treated him like a damn parasite, and he wanted to go to Eve to…
No.
He didn’t. He wouldn’t.
So why the hell had he told Eve that he intended to fix the roof? Come to that, why was he fixing the goddamned roof? It wasn’t his problem. It had jack shit to do with him.
Stopped at a red light, Dean squeezed his eyes shut and purposefully cleared his mind. He’d fix the roof and be done with it. Period. As he’d told Eve, it wasn’t a big deal. He could afford it, and then when he left again, he wouldn’t have to think about a woman—didn’t matter if the woman was his sister—any woman standing on a roof that was in dangerous need of repair.
He pulled away with the flow of traffic and, minutes later, arrived at the car lot. On his way in, he noticed a used Ford Focus. Clean. Good tires. And the price was reasonable….
Damn it.
Keeping his stony gaze straight ahead, Dean stormed into the office and completed his business with no questions asked about the other car. He had his Sebring; he didn’t need another car.
And fixing a roof was more than enough charity on his part.
After the storm the night before, the fresh morning air felt good. Dean put the convertible top down and drove to the address Eve’s mother had given him. He wanted to stop in to let Crystal know he couldn’t look at any property today after all. Soon, though.
Crystal’s workplace had an upscale feel to it. The building was new and professionally landscaped. As Dean opened the etched glass entry doors, he pushed his mirrored sunglasses to the top of his head. A friendly receptionist directed him down the hall to Crystal’s office.
Halfway there, he heard a man’s raised angry voice.
“This is absurd. It’s a waste of her money and you know it.”
Crystal said, “Look, Roger, it’s none of my business. You’ll have to take it up with Cam.”
Roger. Great. Someone else Dean didn’t want to see.
“Sell me the damn property now, and Cam won’t have to bother with repairs.”
“Sorry,” Crystal said. “It’s not mine to sell.”
An angry silence crackled in the air before Roger bit off, “Do—the damn—paperwork.”
Dean reached the end of the hall just in time to see Crystal come out of her chair and around her desk. Her pose showed obvious annoyance. “I will when Cam tells me to, and not a second before that.”
“I’ve tried to call her, but she’s not answering her home phone or her cell.” When Crystal shrugged, Roger took a step closer to her. “You know damn good and well I’m her only buyer, and I don’t want the roof fixed.”
Lounging in the door frame, Dean asked, “Why not?”
Roger spun around, first startled and then, when he recognized Dean, furious. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m here for the same reason you are.”
Anger colored Roger’s face, until Dean clarified. “I’m thinking of buying some property.”
He took an aggressive step forward. “The Conor home?”
Dean sent him a hell no look, then said to Crystal, “Good morning.”
Crystal greeted him with relief and a hearty hug. “You’re early.”
“Sorry about that. My plans had a few changes.” And to Roger, he said, “Cam is probably still sleeping. She was up late fighting roof leaks.”
Eyes narrowing, Roger asked, “And how would you know that?”
“I helped her fix them.”
Again Roger started forward, and Crystal said, “I take it you’ve met Cam’s brother, Dean?”
That brought him to a standstill. “Her brother?”
“That’s right.” And with a puzzled frown, he added, “You didn’t know?”
Roger was so transparent that Dean could see his every thought and intent.
“No,” Roger said. “We met, but I didn’t realize…” Undecided on which tack to take, Roger waffled between bullying anger and a slicker façade that might aid him in prying.
He decided to try slick.
“I understood from Eve that you weren’t sticking around.” Hands in his pockets, Roger avoided offering a friendly handshake. “She was wrong?”
“No.” Dean turned back to Crystal. “If you have any addresses for me, I’ll take them now and check them out when I can.”
“Sure thing. I have them right here.” She handed Dean a multipaged printout, safely tucked inside a folder for the sake of privacy.
Frustration darkened Roger’s eyes, though he tried to keep it out of his voice. “If you’re not sticking around, why are you buying property?”
“Investment.” Dean glanced at the addresses, nodded, and said to Crystal, “Thanks. I owe you.”
“After the way the men chewed your ear the other night? I’d say I’m still behind.”
Roger again tried to gain Dean’s attention. “You’re into real estate? Me, too. It’s a smart man’s move.” He watched Dean with speculation. “I don’t know if your sister told you, but I own quite a few enterprises here in Harmony.”
“Actually Eve told me.”
“I see.” A muscle ticked in Roger’s cheek. “So you two are an item?”
Rather than answer, Dean closed the distance separating him from Roger. When he stood only a foot away, he smiled. “It’s my turn.”
Roger’s gaze shifted to Crystal and came back. “Your turn for what?”
“The interrogation. I’ll start with asking why you don’t want Cam to have the roof fixed.”
It was a struggle for Roger, but he didn’t back away. At six-two, he probably wasn’t used to anyone standing over him. But Dean not only topped him by a couple of inches, he had a more powerful physique and a lot of practice intimidating people.
He used both to his advantage now.
Why he wanted to break Roger down, he didn’t know. But he had an instinct on some things, and on a basic gut level, he loathed and distrusted Roger.
Keeping his annoyance under wraps, Roger shrugged. “Your sister and I are engaged.”
“Really? I heard that was still up in the air.”
Roger’s expression tightened. “Cam and I have yet to finalize our plans. In the meantime, I don’t want to see her stressing about unnecessary things. I’m buying the house, and I don’t give a damn how the roof is.”
Dean slowly nodded, but he didn’t trust a single thing Roger said. “You claimed you’re her only buyer. Why is that?”
“Who else would want it?” Roger laughed. “You’ve seen the roof, but maybe you don’t know that the plumbing is faulty, too, and the windows are so warped that they’re nearly useless. On any given day, half the damn circuits will overload or short out. The heat pump is shot and needs to be replaced. The—”
“Strange,” Dean interrupted. “It seems the pool is in perfect working order. Why would Cam let the house fall apart, but maintain the pool?”
Crystal snorted. “Lorna uses the pool, that’s why.”
Dean couldn’t credit such a thing. “Lorna wears a swimsuit?”
“No.” Crystal actually shuddered over the thought of that. “But she does a lot of entertaining out there. Little club parties and such.”
That explained why they had such nice outdoor furniture, too.
“When the pool pump broke at the beginning of the season, Roger fixed it for Lorna.” Crystal stared between the two men. “At his own expense.”
“Real generous of you.” Dean wondered why Roger would assist Cam with one thing, but not another. And why had Cam let him help? From what he’d seen of his sister, she was too independent and far too proud for her own good.
“The girls like to swim, too,” Roger defended. “And it didn’t cost that much.”
Of course they liked to swim. They grew up with a customized pool in their backyard. He could still rem
ember his own days of summer, before his parents’ deaths. Lounging in the pool all day, swimming and playing until he was too exhausted to do more than eat and nap. Nothing, not even hard work, tired a person more than sun and water. It was a good tired, though. The kind that took away tension and made problems seem less severe.
Just like that, Dean made another decision. He refused to ponder it too long, to dwell on his murky motivation. His dislike of Roger proved to be enough reason for anything he chose to do.
Turning to Crystal, Dean said, “Don’t sell the house until you hear from me.”
Roger snorted. “What are you talking about? You have no say in this.”
“Actually I have the final say.”
Crystal’s eyebrows shot up, so Dean explained to them both at the same time.
“Cam told me the house is part mine. The fact that I wasn’t around much doesn’t change anything.” He clapped Roger on the shoulder. “And I just decided I don’t want to sell it.”
“That’s ludicrous.” Incredulity left Roger’s face colorless. “Cam and I have a deal!”
“But you and I don’t.” Done with explaining himself, Dean saluted Crystal with the file of addresses. “Thanks again. I’ll be in touch.”
Dazed by the turn of events, Crystal nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be waiting with bated breath to hear from you.”
Dean strode out on Roger’s swelling tirade. He felt like he’d just tossed a heavy weight off his shoulders. The whole day looked brighter.
Time to get things under way. Taking his cell phone off the clip on the waistband of his jeans, he dialed Gregor’s number.
On the third ring, breathing hard and fast, Gregor answered. “Yeah?”
Had he caught Gregor at an indiscreet moment? “I gather you’re either screwing or working out.”
“Havoc? How are you, you son of a bitch?”
“Breathing easier than you.”
Gregor laughed. “It’ll disappoint you, ’cuz it sure disappoints me, but you’re not interruptin’ anything more excitin’ than a jog. What’s up?”