by Kris Pearson
CHAPTER SIX — GETTING FLIRTY
Next day it poured, and a blustery northerly sent leaves tumbling everywhere and sheets of water sluicing sideways in the cooler air.
Sammie fed Zorro in the murky early morning light and stood for a few moments on the small balcony, sheltered from the worst of the weather. She’d brought a couple of energy bars with her, but Kelly’s pantry had plenty of cereal, and there was half a loaf of bread so breakfast was easy.
She intended taking her car to get around the possible ‘wine-with-Nick-after-work’ thing, but when she went to the secure basement parking garage, she found several boxes of personal possessions still on the back seat. Boxes she’d intended carrying up the night before until she’d been waylaid by her unexpected visitor. With no time to do that now, and not wanting the car sitting outside with tempting looking boxes visible to attract thieves, she decided to walk. The apartment was only a few blocks from BodyWork, and the shop verandas would mostly protect her from the rain.
But that left the possibility of Nick insisting he drove her home to share the rest of the wine after work tonight. The prospect had teased her from the moment he’d left.
She wanted no romantic entanglements. Needed to be free to travel. It had been her parents’ dream, and they’d infected her with their wanderlust. Even though they’d left her behind every time they went away, she’d shared their anticipation as they planned, and marveled at the things they brought back. The colorful souvenirs. Unusual gifts. Photos of strange and exotic places.
Grandma and Grandpa hadn’t been travelers. The orchard and Grandma’s indifferent health had kept them close to home, and although Sammie had enjoyed several short holidays with friends, she’d been caught up again caring for Grandpa after his stroke.
But finally, finally, her turn had arrived to experience it all, and no hot and hunky flirt would be stealing her dream.
Especially as he’d burst back into her life at exactly the wrong time.
She hugged the smallest box against her and headed back up to the apartment. Because of the weather, and her own wariness towards Nick, she’d gone with jeans and boots today. And her favorite zipper-fronted red top with the bands of scattered beads and sequins around the demure neckline and wrists. She’d pulled the zipper right up so there was no skin to tempt him. Not a glimpse of a breast. Not a hint of ankle or midriff or arm. She had to stay strong somehow. She grabbed her leather jacket as protection from the rain, picked up her bag, and set off at a brisk pace. In future she’d be starting at 8.30 and working through until five.
Nick’s head jerked up as Sammie walked past his open doorway. He caught the faint drift of the fragrance she wore, and rose and followed her to the staffroom on silent feet, watching as she slid out of her sexy little black bomber jacket and hung it in her locker. “Back in your jeans today?”
She flinched, then turned and stared him down with her clear green eyes. “It’s turning colder.”
“No worse than yesterday.”
“So?”
“I liked yesterday’s skirt.”
“I’ll wear it again sometime then.”
She was different—not just her clothes, but her attitude. Definitely cooler after last night’s friendly concern.
“Coffee?” she asked before he had time to comment further.
“Thanks.”
She turned away and ignored him while she fussed with the machine. Which put her pert little butt in the snug jeans right where he could best admire it. What the hell was it about her that got to him? She had no designer clothes or classy hairdo, wasn’t huge in the breast department. Not his usual taste in women at all. Yet he was drawn to her as strongly now as he had been at the orchard all those years ago.
More. Much more. She was far too young then, and I had no business fooling around with her. Even though I was just a curious kid myself.
He stood there, itching to mold his fingers around her peachy curves, yearning to drop kisses on her tender exposed nape. Damn near exploding with sudden lust.
As he swung around to return to his office she asked, “When are your parents back?”
“My non-parents. Brian and Gaynor. Tomorrow I think. Unless Brian’s changed his mind—or got arrested again.”
“You need to talk to them, Nick.”
“Yeah, yeah...”
“I mean it. It’s no good trying to do anything else until you hear it straight from them. They might have an instant answer for you.”
He folded his arms across his chest and looked daggers at her. In his heart of hearts he knew she was right, and doing nothing, getting nowhere, killed him. He’d be damned if he’d simply phone and ask them though. His so-called father could lie his way out of anything—often had—and Nick wanted the element of surprise to maximize his chances of a straight answer.
Sammie putting on this cool, concerned façade—the caring-but-don’t-get-close act— killed him. They’d had a real connection the previous evening. He’d loved having her wrapped around him trying to hug his hurt away. He’d like some more hugging instead of her careful distance.
He snarled to himself as he turned for his office again. Women—how could you trust them? His own mother had given him away. Gaynor had palmed him off on someone else every school holiday but kept her biological sons close. Sammie had switched on the affection last night but had now switched it off again.
Stick to the one-nighters, the one-weekers. Show them a good time and keep sending them on their way.
A few minutes later Sammie breezed in with his coffee, made a great show of searching for a vacant place on his desk to set it down rather than looking at him, and turned to leave.
“Sammie?”
Her candid green eyes finally lifted to lock with his.
“Later this afternoon, if this weather clears, I want to take you up the coast a few miles and show you something.”
Her feathery brows rose, and she straightened so her breasts pressed against the soft red fabric of her top. Nick’s palms itched and his groin stirred.
Why her? Why the hell do I want her so much?
“A property,” he grated. “You need to see it because you’ll be in charge of queries and messages while I’m not here.”
“Your property? Okay.”
“I’m having some work done, and the builder needs a local contact.”
A small crease appeared between her brows, and she moved so her weight rested equally on both parted feet. His gaze zeroed to the gap between her thighs.
“Nothing to worry about,” he hastened to add, dragging his attention back up to her face. “It won’t be anything too tough, but you’ll know how to contact me if I’m really needed. I’d rather not be interrupted by the builder during the Auckland meetings.”
She looked past him to the window, and his eyes roamed over her again. Long legs in blue denim, red top draping gracefully from neck to hips, hinting at the soft warmth of her breasts, the curve of her waist. Long blonde hair tousled as though his fingers had already ruffled through it. The face of a naughty angel.
And damn if his cock wasn’t reacting to her yet again. He pulled his chair closer to the desk so she had no chance of seeing the effect she had on him.
“It’s still pouring,” she murmured as the rain spattered on the windows.
“Yeah, well, we’ll see how it looks later. Thanks for the coffee.”
Sammie hastened back to the reception area and the ever-ringing phone. That hadn’t gone too badly. She’d worried Nick might have taken last night’s embrace as an invitation to rekindle their old friendship, but he seemed fine and cool. Which was more than she could say for herself.
Every time she looked at him, she wanted to do more than just look. Wanted to touch and stroke and lick and taste and luxuriate in him. Wanted to press herself up against his tall beautiful body and do things she’d never contemplated with past boyfriends. Her old teenage temptations hadn’t been buried too deeply at all.
Damn, damn,
damn! He was taking over her mind—floating by at the most inappropriate moments. She needed to stay focused on her job and her future travel plans.
At least the property queries might make a distraction. She kept an eye on the weather, hoping the rain would stop.
Tyler arrived—late but determined—and by noon, Sammie knew she had a good handle on most of her BodyWork duties.
Yet another email dinged through.
‘Samantha.’
Did he get a kick out of summoning her like that? She saved her work and hurried through to his office.
“Yes?”
Nick scooped up his car keys and held them toward her. “Take Tyler home and tell her to stay there. She’s done enough. She shouldn’t still be working.”
“She’s three days overdue now and says she’s beginning to feel ‘interesting’.”
He pulled his beautiful mouth into a rueful grimace. “Get her out of the place, for God’s sake. She’ll have the kid on the floor if we’re not careful.” He jingled the keys at her.
“You drive her. Your car’s murder to control.”
“Sorry—waiting on a call from Sydney.”
Sammie sighed, reached out, and found he’d wedged them over the knuckle of his thumb. She held out her hand imperiously.
Nick grinned. “You’ll have to wrestle them off me again.”
She huffed out a sharp breath and grabbed, secretly pleased to have the excuse to touch. He jerked the keys out of reach, rolled his chair backward, and swiveled to face her. He jingled them again and she pounced—and found herself neatly tipped onto his lap and cradled against his chest. She reacted like an enraged cat facing up to a much bigger dog. Pure instinct made her raise a hand to slap at him, but he caught it and held it against his neck.
“Let me go, damn you.” She struggled, knowing she had little chance of escaping from his confining embrace. Her fingers tensed against hot skin, and she attempted to scrape her nails down, but his grip on her hand remained firm. His pulse beat under her palm, and his amused smile dipped dangerously close.
“Let you go?” he teased. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m working.” She gave another fierce wriggle.
“Nah—you’re on your lunch-break now. The boss says you can fool around all you like.”
“Well I don’t like.” She attempted again to get free, but stopped in alarm when she felt what she was sitting on.
His strong arms wrapped tighter around her, and he laughed at her no doubt horrified expression.
“Stop that!” she insisted, as a sudden rush of heat and moisture arrived right where she pressed against his rampant cock.
“You really think I can reverse things with your pretty little butt keeping him such good company?”
“Try.” She sent him her sternest glare.
“Not a hope. One kiss?”
Her willful body gave another electric surge. “No.”
“One little kiss. I should have kissed you last night.”
“No you shouldn’t.” His scent washed across to her, so fresh and clean and sexy. The keys pressed against her thigh, jingling and clinking together where his big hand held her prisoner. “You shouldn’t. We mustn’t.”
“We’re all grown up now, Sammie. We can do anything we want.”
She squirmed on his lap, still trying to break free, and then stopped again as his grin broadened.
“No, Nick.”
“No, you’re not grown up? Or no, you don’t want?”
She looked up into his laughing eyes. “I don’t want.” She pressed her lips into what she hoped was a convincing line of disapproval.
“Liar,” he whispered. “Pretty little liar. Your big eyes, and these—”
Sammie gasped as he touched a tight nipple.
“—are telling me an altogether different story.”
The dampness surged in her groin yet again.
Please God he can’t tell what’s happening down there...
“Well, okay,” she allowed. “I might be a bit turned on because I can feel you are, but I don’t want to start anything.”
“Not thinking of starting anything.” He rotated his thumb on her nipple. “Just playing. You were always fun to play with.”
Sammie’s breath caught again as he bent his head and brushed his lips across hers. Once. Softly. He tasted deliciously of coffee. Her heart thudded.
“I never kissed you in the implement shed,” he whispered, pulling back a tiny distance. “I can’t imagine how I held off. I was hard as hell all that last summer. You were so cute and solemn and innocent.”
He dropped another light kiss onto the tip of her nose and drew back again. “Now you’re just cute, and I’d really like to play some more.”
So would she! She let out a long slow sigh of frustration. “No,” she insisted, angling her head enough to look into his eyes, and hoping she sounded convincing.
“Why not? One good reason?”
“Because that’s all it is—playing. It might be enough for you, but it’s not enough for me, and the timing’s way wrong.” She saw his gorgeous lips parting to voice some objection, and rushed on before he interrupted. “Right now, Nick, I don’t want anyone, serious or otherwise. I want to finish this assignment and get away. I’ve been held up for years, and I’m not delaying my traveling any longer. Not for you or for anyone else.”
He nodded slowly as though he accepted her reasoning, and her thudding heartbeat eased off a little.
Then a further challenge flared deep in his dark eyes. “I still say you’re a liar though. I know when a woman’s turned on.”
“I admitted I was! A bit. What I’m sitting on feels like one hundred percent temptation if that makes you feel any better, but...”
“But you’re not going to do anything about it?”
“Right. Good. You finally understand.” She made to wriggle off his lap and still he didn’t relax his grip on her.
“One hundred percent temptation, huh? Room for any negotiation there, Sammie?”