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The Double Deal
The Double Deal
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The Double Deal

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Bacon, sausage links, fluffy eggs, toast. All things she didn’t even realize she was craving until now. Might as well feed one hunger pulsing through her and hopefully rein her thoughts in.

Tilting her head, she continued, “Since strip poker didn’t get a rip-roaring endorsement, let’s go with something more practical.” She sat back on the edge of the bed and hugged her knees. “I would enjoy hearing more about your work.”

“I told you. I’m a science professor.” His smile was taut, tense.

And his response? Vague as ever.

But his eyes sparked with something else when she held his gaze. Her pulse quickened...at the game of wits or at something else entirely?

Food. She needed to eat.

“Well I figured you weren’t a communications professor. Science is a broad field though. Care to narrow it down a bit? I assume you’re passionate about your career given how intensely you concentrate.”

With a sigh, he piled food on his plate. She watched him close his eyes, seeming to weigh his next words carefully. What felt like an eternity passed before he spoke again. His low voice a welcome rumble.

“I’m an engineer, actually. I work on oil pipeline construction and upgrades.”

“A mathematical as well as scientific field. Interesting. What do you enjoy most about the pipeline angle? I’m having fun envisioning you out there in the wilds, the bear master flexing his intellectual chops.”

“Still nosy.” A smile—well, a half smile—pulled at his lips. He arranged the spread on the table, down to the precise position of both of their plates. He gestured for her to join him.

“Why does it matter if I know what you do?” She walked over to the table, settling into the seat closest to the glass. The snow still poured down, muting the minimal rays of sunrise, giving the breakfast a hazy, romantic glow.

Brushing knees with him under the table only added to the intimacy.

“I’ve shared with you,” he dodged. She reached for the toast and then scrambled eggs as he continued, an edge of sarcasm tinging his tone. “Tell me more about being a delivery gal. How long have you had the job? Why did you apply to drive around in awful weather? Why did they hire you?”

“I told you, I’m a friend.” Stick with rule number one: keep the story as simple and unadorned as possible. Too many details would complicate things. She tucked her knees closer to her side of the table. “I volunteered to help him out.”

“Ah, right.” He shoveled a large bite of eggs into his mouth.

Either he wasn’t listening to her or he was trying to trip her up, which meant he was suspicious. With good reason.

Guilt pinched. Hard. He seemed to be a genuinely good guy and she wasn’t being totally up-front with him. It had all seemed so simple back home, the stakes for her family so high. And none of that had changed. She wanted security for her baby and she believed in her cause. She wasn’t as active as her sister on the issue of the environment, but her family’s company truly was the one most open to what Royce had to offer.

Bottom line, she deeply believed research like Royce’s helped reduce environmentally caused cancers, and the thought of saving others the grief she’d been through? She had to forge ahead.

“Tell me more about you? Family? Friends? Girlfriend who won’t be happy to find out I’ve been here alone with you offering to play strip poker?”

“I’m an only child,” he said, taking the bait as she shifted the topic. “My parents had me later in life and are retired. Girlfriends aren’t your concern.”

“Efficient answers. Sparse. But efficient.”

Like he was with serving up portions on his plate from the platter in the middle.

“I grew up in Texas around the oil fields. My father and mother worked hard. We had a comfortable life. I studied hard and it paid off with a full ride to college. I made good with some patents, which enables me to afford to hide out working in a luxurious glass igloo and pay for delivery of supplies,” he said simply, adding butter to his bread while it was still warm, the dab melting over the sides.

Kind of like her senses. He was eccentric, sure, but sexy as hell. The intensity in his eyes had disarmed her for a moment. She needed to press on while he was warming up into an unusually chatty mood.

“Texas to Alaska. That’s quite a leap geographically, not to mention the weather.”

“Oil. Pipelines. Common thread.” He lifted his mug of coffee.

“Ah, yes. Oil.”

“Hmm.” He offered up the nonanswer while adding jam to his buttered toast.

She was losing him here. Or maybe she was losing focus, because all she could think about was him in the shower. His buff chest, his strong arms. “Tell me about your childhood growing up in Texas?”

He glanced at her, that strong jawline causing her heart to quicken. Something like a crackle of awareness passed between them, something that seemed to hang in the air. “Growing up in Texas was a lot like growing up in Alaska, I imagine, but without the snow.”

“Since the snow is everywhere, how about spell it out for me more.” She bit into her own toast, indulging in the freshness of the blueberry jam.

“Both places have fishing, hunting, rugged living...and oil.”

“I applaud your concise way with words.” And yes, she was starting to struggle to keep her thoughts reined in with the sensory overload of savory food and muscle-bound man.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Concise.”

Royce’s attention wandered for a moment, eyes roving her, stopping at her mouth. His sudden movement caught her off guard as he reached across the table and thumbed the corner of her mouth. “Jam.”

He slowly licked his thumb clean. But his eyes didn’t leave hers.

Her heart did a flip. Her thoughts scattered like snow from the roof in a squall. So much for staying on her toes around him. About the only way she could envision being on her tiptoes involved arching up to kiss him.

* * *

Royce wasn’t sure why he’d opted to play with fire by touching Naomi. But damned if he regretted it.

Angling across the table, he skimmed his mouth over the corner of her lips, right where he’d grazed her with his thumb a second before. The taste of jam lingered.

As did the spark of attraction as he settled back into his seat.

She hadn’t objected. She wasn’t running. Granted, she appeared a hint shell-shocked with wise eyes. But her pupils widened with attraction. She was stunning, potent.

And he was drawn to her like a magnet.

He studied her through narrowed eyes. “You’re—distracting.”

“I’m sorry about that.” She sat back in the chair, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her spine arched and her breasts pressed against her shirt.

Distracting was an understatement. His normally targeted linguistic skills seemed to fail him. She was...intoxicating. That might be more accurate.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” He held her gaze, watching the way her lips moved, parting ever so slightly. The touch a moment ago, the taste of her, had left him wanting more. Much more.

“Oh, thank you.” She exhaled hard. “Well, I guess there really isn’t any use in denying the sparks, is there?”

Her bright eyes searched his, an eagerness dancing there. One he wanted to act on. Damn the logic.

“Attraction is what it is. Even my scientific mind knows it’s not logical—but it is tangible.” He leaned forward on the table, his knee brushing hers. She stared at the point of contact, the place where electricity seemed to build, coursing through him.

“I’m not a judgy kind of person.” She lifted her head, fixating now on his mouth. But her knee didn’t move from his. The warmth of her body teased him as she continued, her voice lower as if confessing a secret, “but I’ve also never indulged in a one-night stand.”

“From the looks of the storm and the piles of snow out there, we’ll be here for far more than one night. If you’re so inclined to...indulge.” He eased from his chair and leaned a hip against the table, taking her hand, surprised for a moment by the softness of her skin, the strength in the way she squeezed him back.

“Logical point.” Her breath hitched audibly, her pulse speeding in her neck just below her diamond stud earring.

Were they really discussing this without ever even having kissed other than sharing a smudge of jam?

Although holding her hand, watching her reaction to that simple touch, turned him inside out with need.

“And I am a responsible man. I always have protection.”

Her husky laugh washed over him. “You carry condoms to an igloo in remote Alaska?”

“Did you hear me? I am a practical man. And a careful man.” He paused, looking down at his feet before continuing, the words heavy on his tongue. “My former fiancée got pregnant. We lost the baby, then broke up. If I’d been careful, I could have saved us both a lot of pain...”

Her hand rested on the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry for the hurt that caused you.”

“Thank you.” Pushing back against the memories, he glanced up at her again. “It was a long time ago. And damn, I don’t know why I brought it up at all. What a total mood buster. I just wanted to say that I have condoms.”

“Safe is always good.” Her fingers moved lightly along the back of his neck, both soothing and arousing.

His direct nature had sent him off course with people before, and he wondered if that was the case now. “So, have I totally wrecked the mood?”

“Wrecked the mood?” She angled back, toying with the tip of her ponytail in a way that totally set his senses on fire. Did she know what she was doing to him? “Dampened it perhaps. But I think the moment could be easily salvaged.”

Yes. Victory surged through him. “How so?”

She gave him an unmistakably sultry look. All thick lashes and parted lips. She raised an eyebrow, voice taking on a sweeter intonation. “You’re a smart man. Guess.”

Angling toward her, he slid his hand up her leg, watching her move into him with anticipation. He drew his head closer, lips a breath apart from hers.

The logical stuff? He would deal with that later. Because right now, nothing seemed more important than fully, thoroughly kissing Naomi.

Four (#uc2a845e6-38b8-5e2e-8e66-a088f32b2a8a)

The moment Royce’s lips fully brushed hers, Naomi leaned into the kiss, unable to stop herself from soaking up the muscular feel and earthy scent of this man she barely knew. Throwing herself at a virtual stranger. Which was atypical for her.

Sure, she’d cultivated a wild child reputation for the past few years. Totally unearned other than dressing flamboyantly and being outspoken. But she’d felt compelled somehow to prove to her family she was vibrantly alive. Independent. She’d even stopped waiting around for Mr. Right and embraced the possibility of motherhood.


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