Читать книгу Simply Sensual - Carly Phillips - Страница 8

GRACE HANDED BEN the keys and let him unlock the door to her apartment. She was too tired to do it herself and, besides, her hands stung worse than when she’d fallen off her bike as a kid. She wasn’t ready to think through today’s ordeal—or the threat the punk had made to her before Ben ran him off.

Stay out of this neighborhood, or else.

She squared her shoulders. Just because he’d scared her to death didn’t mean she’d listen to threats. Grace came from a family of strong people who did what they wanted, the rest of the world be damned. And though she rarely cited her family as having virtues, this time, she was prepared to emulate that one trait. After she took care of her cuts and bruises and after she got rid of Ben. His strong presence made it too easy to want to lean on him. Too easy to succumb and lose the thread of independence she’d begun to weave.

He stepped inside and held the door open for her to do the same. She walked past him. He wasn’t dressed for the office, his hair was mussed and hadn’t seen a barber’s scissors in quite a while. Still, he was the most appealing sight she’d ever laid eyes on.

Independence be damned, the man was right. Leaning on him wouldn’t be so bad. In fact she’d probably enjoy it and heaven knew being around Ben made the threat of danger seem less real.

“You can put the keys and camera on the shelf.” She pointed to the etched glass shelf “floating” from the wall.

He stepped around her. The keys made an unnaturally loud sound as they clattered onto the glass. “You need to take care of those hands.”

She nodded.

“Where’s the antiseptic?” he asked.

Someone else taking care of her was a novel experience, which was probably what made it so appealing. Except for her grandmother, no one in her family ever made her feel loved for herself. Her mother tried, but thanks to her father’s bullying, she’d always fallen short. But for her brother, Logan, no male in her family had ever made her feel warm or cared for. In fact, her father, with his impossibly high standards and demands, diminished her self-worth and made her more insecure than any child ought to be.

But Ben had held her the entire walk to his car, making her feel safe and cherished. After seeing him with the kids at the park and viewing his unwavering concern for her now, she knew more than sexual attraction drew her to him.

She tipped her head upward and met his concerned gaze. He caused her to feel a whole host of emotions. None platonic. All solid and good.

“Grace? The antiseptic.”

She gave herself a shake. “In the kitchen. The cabinet to the left of the microwave.” She followed him the short distance and waited in her small walk-in kitchen while he sorted through the cabinet and came up with a light antiseptic to clean her cuts, an antibiotic cream and bandages.

He took the box off the shelf and held it up for inspection. “Barney?”

Grace felt a heated flush creep up her face. “I knew I ought to keep something in the house just in case, and well…that’s all they had.”

He laughed, his features softening, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. She raised her hand and touched a finger to the enticing crease. His skin was hot and rough with razor stubble.

He sucked in a startled breath and she dropped her hand. “Don’t play with fire, Gracie. Unless you want…”

“To get burned?” She met his heavy-lidded gaze. “I admit to liking the idea. I always had to be the good girl. I never crossed the street without an adult and I never played with matches. I’m tired of being good. I want to play with fire.” She wanted to play with him.

Though she’d never been so bold before, something about Ben made her feel free…to be herself, Grace realized. And it felt good.

His hands came to rest on her hips. Large palms and hot skin.

Before she realized his intent, he lifted her up and placed her on the kitchen counter. “First we see to your hands and neck.”

Grace smiled. Let him tend to her injuries first. She’d get a chance to question him more about who he was and where he’d come from. The pull between them wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Turn your hands palms up.” Ben desperately needed the distraction of caring for her injuries before he forgot them in favor of her enticing yet innocent proposition.

She did as he asked. He washed his hands at the sink, then returned to her side and saturated a cotton ball. With care he wiped down her dirt-streaked hands, cleaning the scrapes. Except for the first time when she sucked in a pain-filled breath, she didn’t utter a word of complaint and let him work.

“You’re good at this. Get much practice?”

He recognized her attempt to distract herself from what must sting like the devil, but he also recognized a feminine ploy to extract information.

Still she was so guileless in her attempt, he couldn’t help but indulge her. “No younger siblings to take care of if that’s what you’re asking.” He reached for a fresh piece of cotton to pat down her hand and then opened the antibiotic cream.

Using his thumbs, he gently rubbed the center of her palms, massaging the ointment into her pale but soft skin—skin marred only by the bruises inflicted when she’d hit the sidewalk. The urge to lift her hand to his lips and ease her pain was strong.

The urge to comfort warred with the more primal desire to wrap her in his arms and protect her from harm. And it had nothing to do with the case.

Damn, but Grace Montgomery was trouble.

“How about children?” she asked.

At the blunt, out-of-the-blue question, his finger pressed against her hand too hard and she let out a gasp. “Sorry. Jeez, Grace, if you want to know something, just come out and ask.” He glanced up at her sheepish expression.

An embarrassed but endearing smile worked its way onto her lips. “You caught me, I guess.”

He laughed. “Let’s just say your investigating skills need some brushing up.”

She shrugged. “Good thing you’re just the man to teach me.” She paused. “Unless there’s a wife, child or girlfriend I don’t know about?” Curiosity and hope mingled in her warm brown eyes.

“No wife and child, no girlfriend and no exes with kids, either. But I meant brushing up on more discreet ways of getting information.” He peeled open the ridiculous-looking bandages with the purple dinosaur and patched her hands as best he could. “I’ll make a drugstore run later and pick up something better to cover those hands, at least until they’re feeling better.”

She glanced down at his handiwork. “You don’t need to make a special trip. I can live with Barney until tomorrow.”

He ignored her protest. If a drugstore trip was the only way he could escape he’d take it in a heartbeat. He ignored the devilish voice in his head reminding him of what other items could be found at a drugstore should the need arise, and he refocused on her injuries. “Okay, now for your neck.”

She winced at the thought of him repeating the procedure on the burn left by the heavy camera strap rubbing against her skin.

“I think we can forget the antiseptic and just go with the cream.”

She exhaled a sigh of relief. “Sounds good.”

“Let’s see.”

As she brushed long strands of hair off the side of her neck, she made room for him to take a look—by spreading her legs and letting him step inside. Surrounded by her feminine heat and intoxicating scent, Ben realized he was in trouble.

Fingertips covered with ointment, he touched her neck as gently as possible. A tremor shook her body, and her thighs clamped shut, enclosing him in her warmth. An echoing shudder overtook him.

He had to clear his throat in order to speak and, even then, his voice came out a hoarse whisper. “Can we skip the bandages, too?”

She turned her head and her face was a tempting millimeter from his, her lips within kissing distance. His mind demanded he walk away. His body refused to listen to reason. He opened his mouth to speak, to prevent the inevitable, when she took advantage of his indecision and touched her lips to his.

Hot. Sweet. Demanding. Giving. The swirl of emotions flowed inside him as urgently as her tongue swept inside his mouth. Her hands gripped his forearms, heedless of the scrapes on her palms, and her nails dug into his skin.

Good judgment be damned, Ben thought and answered her silent plea, sealing his lips over hers. She moaned and he swallowed the sound, threading his fingers into her hair. The strands felt like fine silk beneath his fingertips, a stark contrast to the hardness building inside him.

A shred of sanity remained—the part of him that knew he ought to stop now, before things went any further. He grabbed her wrist, calling for her attention.

She tilted her head back. Eyes glazed with desire, she met and held his gaze—until the ringing of the telephone shocked him back into reality.

He tried to push back, but Grace’s legs held him tight. “Let the machine get it.” Her soft stare never left his and her labored breathing matched the beat of his heart.

Three short rings later he heard Grace’s husky voice directing callers to leave a message, followed by a beep and a too-familiar voice.

One guaranteed to instill guilt. “Hello, Grace. It’s been too long since I’ve heard your voice. I want to know how you’re getting along in the big, lonely city. Met anyone interesting lately? You know I wouldn’t mind a great-grandchild from you before I pass on. And if that’s too much to ask, how about a little information about your life instead? After all, the woman who raised you ought to…” A beep cut Emma’s voice off, indicating the older woman had run out of time.

But not wind. Ben had a hunch she’d still be rambling if the machine hadn’t taken care of the problem. Somehow he managed to stifle a combination laugh at Emma and self-directed groan. He wasn’t supposed to know Grace’s grandmother—any more than he was supposed to be kissing Grace.

The grip on his waist loosened and he took advantage. He stepped back into the safety zone, out from between her legs and out of her reach.

She gestured toward the telephone. “I’m sorry.” Her voice didn’t sound much steadier than he felt at the moment. “Emma, my grandmother, has impeccable timing, even long distance.”

“She sounds like quite a character.”

“Oh, she is. But a lovable one, and she worries about me.”

“What was it she started to say? She raised you?”

Grace nodded. “She was the only adult in the house who cared about me and my brother—about how we felt, not how we appeared to the outside world. I adore her.” Warmth and kindness softened her voice.

Her relationship with Emma seemed to parallel Ben and his mother’s and he could understand her strong feelings for the woman who’d raised and cared for her. “Then I’d say you were lucky to have her around.”

Grace laughed wryly. “You can’t possibly feel that way now.”

Considering Emma had placed him firmly back in reality, reminding him of his job and what his relationship with Grace was supposed to be, Ben most definitely appreciated her call.

“But she has good reason to worry, wouldn’t you say?” He turned the conversation back to Emma’s message.

Grace’s gaze darted from his. “Until today, not really,” she said, lightly.

Her soft laugh didn’t fool him. This afternoon’s attack had shaken her up more than she was willing to admit. Why else had she sought to release her adrenaline with that heart-stopping kiss?

“Why don’t you just stop by every once in a while and reassure her?” Ben asked, to keep conversation flowing. But he hated lying to her, even by implication.

“She lives in Boston.”

“Ah. You’re a New Englander. That explains the accent.”

“Hampshire, Massachusetts, born and raised. But I really don’t want to talk about me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Then what would you like to talk about? And don’t say that kiss because it never should have happened.” No matter how great it was, he silently added. Women tended to dislike being told they were a mistake. But for Ben, being honest with Grace was the only way to avoid finding himself in this predicament again.

“Oh, really?” She folded her arms across her chest. “Care to tell me why not?” Unfortunately she didn’t seem the least bit upset about his comment.

“I took advantage of your injuries.”

A smile curved her lips. “I’d say I took advantage of you. But instead of quibbling, why don’t I just tell you what I want to talk about?”

Without waiting for a response, she jumped right in. “I want to talk about you.” Using her hands to brace herself, she hopped off the counter, then winced.

“You okay?”

She nodded. “I just have to remember to watch myself for the next few days.”

“At least you have the weekend. Unless you have someplace you have to be, like work?”

“I work at a portrait studio uptown, but I’m off Saturday and they’re closed Sunday…which reminds me. I need to call and let them know why I never showed up after lunch.”

“Go ahead.” He gestured to the phone. While she made her call, a wave of relief washed over him. He wouldn’t have to follow her around and watch her back for the next two days because she’d take care of herself at home. He’d have a reprieve.

“The owner was very understanding.” She hung up the receiver. “I’ll rest up today but I’m working on a freelance project in my spare time, so I can’t afford to sit around and pamper myself because of a few scratches.”

He was curious about the project she’d mentioned but more concerned about her safety. He narrowed his gaze. “You’re not planning on heading back to the park, are you?”

Her shoulders stiffened and she lifted her chin a determined notch. Not a good indication that he’d get his wish on this. And definitely not a sign she was pleased with his interference, either.

She let out a slow exhale. “Any reason why I shouldn’t go back there?”

“Other than the obvious?” Much as he’d love to back off and respect her independence, he couldn’t.

“No punk kid is going to run me off. I come from stronger stock than that and I don’t respond to threats.”

“Threats? Threats? What haven’t you told me, Grace?”

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, clamping her jaw tight. Apparently she’d decided not to let him in on whatever he’d missed back at the park. If she thought keeping secrets would deter him, she was wrong.

“Grace?”

She bit down on her lower lip. The same lip he’d kissed, and sucked into his mouth minutes earlier. He stifled a groan and concentrated on what was important: her safety.

She shook her head. “You’re doing it again, you know. Changing the subject.”

“If you ask me, you’re doing the same thing.”

She grinned. “But we’re talking about you.” She stepped closer. “And you’re avoiding the fact that I had a question of my own. I want to know about you.”

He shook his head in exasperation. Emma was right. Grace needed a keeper. Like it or not, he’d have to stick close at least until he knew more about the threats she’d mentioned, and until he discovered what was behind today’s attack. Suddenly it didn’t seem as random as he’d originally thought.

He spread his palms wide and played along, treating her to an easy grin. “Ask away. I’m an open book.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind telling me how long you’re staying across the hall?”

He lifted her chin and looked into those brown eyes. “I wouldn’t mind at all, if I didn’t think you had an ulterior motive. What’s up, Gracie?”

She stepped closer, until he could inhale her scent and practically taste her glistening lips. “I just want to know how long I have to seduce you.”

SEDUCE HIM. Grace had uttered those words with such complete certainty that even twenty-four hours later Ben was still aroused. The hell of it was, he didn’t think he could deny her if faced with an all-out assault. One he felt certain would come. Grace now knew she had three weeks to act—or not act, if he had his way.

After her proclamation, he’d answered her question and made a quick exit. She should have taken the hint. But her soft laughter had followed behind him, telling him she didn’t consider his hasty retreat a defeat. Considering the feelings rioting inside him, she had every reason to feel victorious.

If it were just her sexuality he had to deal with, Ben felt certain he could easily maintain his professional distance. Instead he found himself faced with a beautiful woman he also respected and admired. Walking away from her trust fund when it would have been easier to give in and live easy, spending her days at the park to give back to society—he’d yet to discover what that meant, but he sensed great import behind her words. She was generous, caring and gutsy. And though he’d withdrawn last night, he didn’t know if he’d have the strength to do it again.

What Grace didn’t know or understand were the reasons for that withdrawal. So far she hadn’t asked. But she would. And he couldn’t give the simplest explanation without revealing he was being paid to investigate her and he wouldn’t betray a client’s trust without permission. Emma’s trust had to come before his personal feelings, never mind the money he’d see from this case.

But he never wanted to face Grace’s wrath should she ever discover he’d deceived her. He felt guilty enough as it was and guilt was an emotion alien to him when dealing with the subject of an investigation—another clear sign Ben was in too deep.

He hooked a hose up to the building’s outside spigot and dragged it over to his car. The high-rise boasted not only a doorman, but a circular driveway with plenty of room to spare. The super, being a car fanatic himself, hadn’t minded Ben’s request to hand-wash his old Mustang outside the building. He needed the distraction even more than his car needed cleaning.

He squeezed the sprayer on the hose and began watering down his car. As he bent for the bucket of soapy water, an uncomfortable sensation of being watched pricked at him. He shook off the feeling, knowing he was surrounded by high-rise apartment buildings and windows galore.

Impossible, Ben thought. But the longer he stayed there, the stronger the feeling grew.