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Lucy smiled—saccharine. ‘Sure.’
‘I’m Sarah. I work with him. And you are?’
‘Lucy.’ So Sarah wasn’t a girlfriend—yet. But if the proprietary air was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be long.
‘You’re a friend?’
This woman was definitely a lawyer—the way she shot out questions. Irritated, Lucy decided to toss in a spanner. ‘Actually we live together.’
She saw the other woman’s eyes widen. If it didn’t matter so much she’d have laughed at the look on her face. ‘Really? I didn’t know Daniel was seriously involved with anyone. Rumour is he’s a two-dates-and-it’s-over player.’
Lucy poured the drinks and tried to hide the shake in her hand. ‘He likes to keep his personal life personal. Sorry.’
Her adversary went to pay.
‘On the house.’ It wasn’t a needle of guilt Lucy felt, more like a chainsaw. What was she doing interfering in Daniel’s life? This woman might turn out to be the love of his life—she certainly fitted the ‘polished’ bill. But if that was the case, what was he doing having sex with Lucy in the middle of the night? Especially mind-blowing, best-in-all-your-life sex. Unless it hadn’t been for him. Maybe that was just normal. Oh, God. She had to stop this agonising. She felt the itch in the soles of her feet; she should cut and run. But then she looked about the bar, saw the happy crowds and wanted to stay. And she saw the tall, dark, unfairly handsome suit striding back to his lawyer mates and really, really didn’t want to leave.
Daniel was seriously annoyed. The woman was tired. She’d been working far too hard all week—not a day off, crazy long hours, and she was growing paler by the minute. And he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He had a complex case starting and here he was worrying about some woman he’d known less than a fortnight. She was contrary. She was ornery. She was everything he didn’t need.
And she was so beautiful.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She distracted him. He’d had to get out of the flat after this afternoon. He’d worked well enough in the morning but the knowledge she was sleeping in the next room had called to him. Until he’d been able to stand it no longer and he’d got her up. Wanting to spend time with her. Wanting to know if she wanted more. He suspected, but he wanted certainty.
He’d been playing it cool all week but he was dangerously close to flaring. He’d worked in the office tonight with the team because he’d needed to escape her presence in his apartment. Perversely he’d come to the club after to relax, because he felt oddly at home on his barstool. But he didn’t want her to be here. He just wanted to be in her space without having her there stretching his nerves to break point. He was fast losing the fight against the out-of-control desire to have her again.
Sarah appeared in front of him and handed him a whiskey. His thoughts were halted with her direct comment.
‘You’re a dark horse.’
She smiled but he could see sharpness in her eyes. Something had set his junior on edge.
‘Why’s that?’
‘I didn’t know you were living with someone.’
He looked to where she looked.
Lucy.
The gulp of whiskey burned. ‘She told you?’
As they watched her pulling a pint Lucy looked over to them. Her quickly hidden startle pleased him. She turned away as soon as she saw his gaze on her. Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching her and within an instant she was looking their way again. And away. And back. Much as she wanted to she couldn’t help herself. He knew the feeling.
He savoured the whiskey this time and the fire inside had nothing to do with the swallow. His smile was big and wide. ‘Yeah. She’s something, isn’t she?’
‘She’s…not what I’d have expected.’
‘No.’ He grinned again.
‘It’s serious between you?’
Daniel stared at the content of his glass and made an ambiguous ‘mmm’ response. Of course it wasn’t. But he had to quell the crazy urge to punch a fist in the air. His drifter bar manager was jealous. You could only be jealous when you cared.
So there was his certainty. Proof positive. Meaning her reluctance was surmountable. He wanted the next few hours to fast forward. He wanted to be back in his apartment—just him and her. It was definitely time to sort a few things out. Such as who was on top.
He took another sip of whiskey. She didn’t know it but Lucy had done him another favour. Now as far as Sarah was concerned he was well off the market. Excellent. Sarah had ‘interested’ and ‘power couple’ written all over her. Hell would freeze over first. While Sarah would know of his love-and-leave reputation, Daniel also knew she was as tenacious as a dog with a bone. He’d been careful not to give her even the slightest encouragement and now this should seal it completely.
Feeling happier than he had all week, he hid his smile from Lucy as she scowled at him. He was going to enjoy turning her into that sighing, sexy creature again. Meantime he could afford to turn the screws on her a little. She had a jealous wound? Time for a little salt. He sent Sarah and the boys out ahead of him. Then he approached her.
It took every ounce of self-control not to reach out and haul her to him. He badly wanted to kiss her into submission. He wanted to see her body arch up to him, see her eyelids flutter, hear her moan of delight.
Soon.
‘Keep up the good work.’ He said it as patronisingly as he could—loving the fact that he’d be on the floor like a dead ant if her look had its way. ‘I’m taking Sarah home.’ He turned and winked. ‘Don’t wait up.’
CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_70ed189d-22d0-54e6-bc03-745274ef11fd)
You have good control over your desires and temptations
LUCY stomped about in the kitchen, banging cupboard doors and returning plates home from the dishwasher with more force than necessary. The night had dragged after Daniel had left. Bitter, she muttered nasty things under her breath. It was ridiculous given that she was the one who’d said no. And she’d been right to say no. She’d asked for everything he had to offer and promised him the same. The trouble was she had a lot more to give than him—a heart, for starters.
No sign he was home yet, so the nasty murmurings increased in audibility. He’d be cosied up to Sarah about now. Lucy would move out tomorrow. Even the dreaded hostel would be better than staying here. She’d go pack her bag now. That would make her feel better.
She turned to do just that and got the fright of her life to find Daniel standing right behind her.
‘Everything OK?’
Of course not. He was in boxers and nothing but. Not what she needed. Why didn’t he wear full-length pyjamas and a hideous dressing gown? She lashed out. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘It’s my home. I was trying to sleep but that’s impossible with the racket you’re making.’ He took a step nearer. ‘Something the matter?’
‘No,’ she snapped, grabbing a glass from the shelf.
‘Why did you tell Sarah we’re living together?’
He shocked her with his directness. Uncomfortable heat rose in her cheeks. She tried to shrug it off. ‘We are living together.’
‘Under the same roof, sure, but that wasn’t the innocent impression Sarah got and I’m sure you didn’t mean it that innocently.’
She filled the glass with water. ‘I’m sorry if I made things difficult for you.’
‘No, you’re not.’ Pause. ‘For the record, I’m not and never have been interested in Sarah.’
‘Oh.’ She turned, her back right against the bench. He’d stepped even nearer. ‘She’s not your type?’
‘No.’
She feigned extreme interest in the glass of water. ‘You must be awfully hard to please.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. You did OK the other night.’
Smash. The glass hit the floor. She bent to it instantly. Heart thudding, she grabbed at the shards. ‘I’m as bad as Corey.’ Glass pierced as she tried to gather the bits—futile, seeing there was no way it could be glued back together. Her anger dissolved. Melancholy remained.
‘Stop. It’s only a glass. It doesn’t matter.’ He seized her wrist. ‘Don’t move. I don’t want you to cut your foot as well.’
Obediently she stayed still while he got a brush and dustpan and swept away the fragments, and she couldn’t help admiring his muscular legs and strong forearms. He wrapped the glass in paper and discarded it.
She stayed on the ground, hoping he’d leave before she threw herself at him.
He didn’t. ‘Let me see your hand.’ He crouched beside her so he could see her properly. ‘Lucy.’
She held out her hand. He took it and gently uncurled her fingers. A fine line of red crossed her palm.
‘I’ll get a plaster.’ He soft-footed out to the bathroom and was back in a few minutes. She hadn’t moved.
‘So stupid. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.’ She sniffed—most unladylike. ‘I’m not sleeping too well.’ It was the story of her life. ‘I can’t sleep.’
He finished smoothing the plaster, then looked at her. ‘Neither can I.’
She met his eyes with hers. Her hand shook in his and he closed his fingers around it. Keeping it steady with a warm, firm grip.
He stood and made her stand with him. ‘Maybe we could help each other out?’
His lips were so close and he tilted her chin with a finger to bring hers nearer. Her lids fluttered lower so she wouldn’t have to look into his eyes and openly admit defeat.
The finger under her chin pulled her another inch closer and with a small sigh she melted. There was no hesitation—she was unable to resist a second longer. She opened for him, reached for him, curling her fingers into the hair at the back of his head. Sweet relief flooded through her as his arms went around her and hauled her close—he wanted her. He held back from the kiss. She could feel him studying her. She refused to open her eyes but leaned against him, wordlessly wanting him to understand she was so very willing.
She heard him half laugh under his breath, then felt him slip his arm under her knees to scoop her up. He made her feel weightless, wanted. He strode quickly, surely. She kept her eyes shut and let her body simply feel. The strength of his arms as they held her—as close as they’d been in the water, but this was better because she knew she was about to get it all from him. She could hardly wait.
She felt the mattress beneath her and was sorry when his arms slipped from under her. But satisfaction soon followed as she felt the bed depress with his weight, heard the foil rip and knew he was ready. Then his hands were on her, stroking the skin her top exposed. He pulled up the hem so her stomach was bared. His fingers traced the path, his lips followed. She shook as they touched her, her muscles spasmed involuntarily. He responded immediately, his hands sliding to where her breasts were bursting from her bra. Hard, overly sensitive nipples that ached for his hot mouth. She moaned as he read her mind and closed over her, sucking her nipple in—material and all. Her legs parted immediately as he pressed his weight onto her lower body. He unbuttoned her top with quick fingers and simply pushed the cups of her bra down so her breasts spilled over. He took them in his hands and tasted. Teased. She arched back, baring her neck, straining her pelvis up.
There were too many clothes—despite his near nudity. Again he read her mind. He rolled, quickly removing her skirt. No slow unwrapping this time. Her panties flew through the air. Then her bra. Then his boxers. He leant over her again and they were almost together in one mad moment. He held back—just—and instead teased her, his hand in place between her legs as his mouth devoured hers. He lifted his head a little as his fingers played harder. With amusement in his eye he watched her reaction.
She sucked in a gasp of air and for a second the fog of lust cleared. This was not a good idea. She’d get emotional. He wouldn’t. But she closed her eyes, closing her brain down—refusing to let it ruin such a good time.
He wasn’t having it. ‘Open your eyes, Lucy,’ he muttered as he nibbled on her neck.
She screwed them tighter.
‘Open them or I stop.’
She opened them.
‘Got anything to say?’
‘Like what?’
‘Please.’
She clamped her mouth shut.
He grinned. ‘I’m really going to enjoy making you say it.’
Oh, she hoped so. Naughty Lucy.
‘Because that’s what you really want, isn’t it? Me to do my best to make you.’ He laughed.
Damn. He could read her like a book.
So she flipped it open. ‘Oh, Daniel. Make love to me.’ It was her best Marilyn Monroe impersonation ever—laced with a slurp of irony.
‘You’re going to have to do better than that, Trouble. I want genuine. Desperate. Need.’
He bent to attend to her breasts again and she gave his ceiling a rueful smile. She was seconds away from admitting all that and more. He began to work his way down her body—kissing, caressing, turning up the heat. It was magic how he became so hot and made her feel as if he were worshipping her body. He made her feel so wanted—every cell in her was on fire. He’d gone straight to the furnace and was stoking it, fuelling her until she was hotter than she’d ever been. Driving her relentlessly close, so close, to climax.
He touched her again, deep into her core. ‘The other night you said you didn’t want this again.’
‘I…’ can’t speak—not when he was toying with her like that.
His thumb rubbed her. ‘You weren’t that attracted.’
She lifted her hips up, pushing against him. Wanting this but more than this. Wanting the whole lot of him.
He rubbed that little bit harder and faster. His fingers delved deeper. ‘Will you admit that was wrong?’
He kissed her belly. Heat—desire-fuelled and that of pure irritation—flooded her. ‘Is this how you cross-examine your witnesses?’ She moaned. ‘No wonder you always win.’
She felt his smile on her stomach. He continued his tortuous path downwards. ‘Part of my job involves assessing whether people are telling the truth or not.’ His mouth reached the point where his thumb still worked. ‘I’m pretty good at my job.’
His mouth replaced the thumb—his tongue flicking, while his fingers, still deep, moved faster.
She cried out, raking his shoulders with her hands.
‘What?’ he asked, his hot breath nearly destroying her.
‘Please, please, please.’
He moved quickly, his fingers gone, his humour vanished. In a split second he was on top of her, his body holding hers down. She could feel his erection right against her. So, so close—she nearly cried with the need of it.
He took her hands in his and lifted them so they were pinned by her ears. Right at the point of entry he stopped, fixing her with his gaze, cold gold sparks penetrating. She stared up at him. Stilled by the intensity and ferocity in his face.
His grip tightened on her almost to the point of pain. He spoke, passion audible. ‘Never lie to me again.’
She gasped. She wanted him so much, but was terrified of how far he saw—right through her. Every last inch. She blinked rapidly. ‘OK.’
He surged forward—knowing her inside and out. She gasped again, a silent scream as she got the one thing she’d been wanting all week. It was better than she remembered. Better than she’d dreamed.
His grip on her hands loosened and she adjusted hers—lacing her fingers through his. Locking them in that position—just as their bodies were now locked: eye to eye, palm to palm, thigh to thigh. One.
