Читать книгу His Destiny Bride - Christyne Butler, Christyne Butler - Страница 8

Chapter Two

“It’z not Sinatra, but it’z slow.” Katie enjoyed the solid feel of the sexy pirate. She hoped she still sounded like the Brooklyn villainess she was pretending to be. This guy was as much of a stranger to her as that jerk from a moment ago. Her instincts told her she could trust him, but still... “Hang on, sailor. Thingz might get bumpy.”

“Don’t you think—”

Lost in the warmth of his embrace as a slow country song played, she reached up and found his mouth with her fingertips on the first try. Light pressure cut him off. “Naw, no thinking. No talking, no names. Jusz dancing.”

He went still for a moment, but then his lips creased into a smile and his arms tightened around her. Happy with his submission, she withdrew her hand, moving it downward over the softness of his goatee, the beads woven into his whiskers tapping against her fingers.

Slowly, she traced over his Adam’s apple, past his collarbone until her palm rested on his chest. His heart pounded fast beneath her touch in a cadence that matched hers.

Flying into a strange man’s arms probably wasn’t the best idea, but that clown-costumed jerk wouldn’t take no for an answer. And she hadn’t been flirting. With Peggy gone for the last hour thanks to her ex bailing on their sick son, Katie had partied on with more margaritas. She’d been heading for the exit when that joker got in her way and wouldn’t leave her alone.

Who knew the one guy who’d caught her eye tonight would show up right when she needed him?

Boy, he was tall. Even in her heels, she only came up to his shoulder. She pressed her cheek to the leathery softness of his vest and held tight to a muscular bicep beneath the long strands of a pretty impressive dreadlock wig. A deep inhale brought in a fresh, clean, outdoorsy aroma with a hint of pine from his aftershave.

Hmm, she would’ve guessed his scent would be more like the ocean.

This fragrance was almost...familiar? No, that couldn’t be right.

Then he shifted his hands against her lower back, pulling her even closer, and all rational thought fled. Her skin got all tingly when he laid a hand flat on her tulle skirt just above her backside, causing his costumed jacket to brush against her legs.

They moved in a slow circle, the couples surrounding them doing the same. She was already a bit dizzy and tired, so it was easy to let her eyelids drift closed and get lost in the moment.

Lost in the strength of a pirate’s embrace.

The song ended too soon, but the band started another. Her pirate didn’t make any move to break his hold. Staying right there was fine with her. More songs came and went; she didn’t bother to count how many.

Dreamland was only inches away when another couple bumped into them. She held on as her feet tangled with the pirate’s. They stumbled but remained upright. Before she could come up with something witty, she caught sight of that clown loser again on the edge of the dance floor, peering into the crowd.

And he wasn’t alone.

The last thing she wanted was to cause another scene or, worse, an all-out brawl that would bring the cops. A given, considering the bar’s owner was married to the town sheriff.

She pushed against the wide chest of her pirate. He released her. A gentleman’s move she could appreciate, but she missed his strength as he stepped back.

“Oh, bugger, the clown’s returned.” She jerked her head in the guy’s direction, the bangs of her blond wig falling over her eyes. She shoved the fake hair back into place and grabbed her pirate’s hand. “With hiz rat pack in tow. Come on, let’z blow this pop stand.”

She headed for the other side of the dance floor, glad her new friend followed without hesitation. Weaving through the crowd, she peeked back past the other couples and caught the moment they’d been spotted.

Oh, this wasn’t good.

She glanced over her shoulder at her rescuer. “Lose the hat, Captain. It sticks out like a sore thumb.”

He grinned, as if he was enjoying this little adventure. “Why are we running, lass?”

“I don’t want blood on my outfit.” Returning his smile was easy. “Especially yours. Fight or flight? I pick flight.”

He let go of her long enough to do as she asked, then handed off his hat to her before glancing over his shoulder. Moving in close, he placed a hand on her lower back and guided her through the crowd.

“Move it, me buxom beauty.” He leaned in, his breath stirring the hair at her temple. “They be creepin’ up our starboard.”

Katie did as she was told, liking how his pirate swagger sounded even as the quick pace made her woozier. She looked for one of the bouncers when they reached the large double doors, but none were around.

What now? Did they go their separate ways? Did the pirate have a way home? Was he able to drive?

He had seemed to enjoy himself, even after this game of cat and mouse started, and she wasn’t going to leave him stranded in the parking lot. Not with that jerk and his friends around, spoiling for a fight.

“Be honest, girlfriend,” she muttered. “You don’t want this night to end yet. Or for him to go anywhere.”

“Did you say—”

“Nothin’. Never mind.” Katie cut him off and glanced back again.

Yep, they were still being followed.

She pushed out the doors, shivering in the night air as they stepped onto the wood plank sidewalk that ran the length of the building.

Yeah, insisting she wouldn’t need a jacket for the short walk back to the boardinghouse had been dumb. The chill made her shiver, but then the wind and icy temperature disappeared, cut off by the warmth of scratchy wool enveloping her shoulders, not to mention the rest of her.

He’d given her his jacket. How sweet! No one had ever done that for her before.

She shot him a quick smile. “Thanks, pal.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Quinn.”

He recognized whom she was dressed as! A crazy thrill raced through Katie over that fact, but then angry shouts from behind had her slapping his hat against his chest.

He took it and she grabbed his hand again, the solution to their problem coming at her as bright as a lightbulb. “Follow me.”

She hurried across the parking lot, weaving through the now leafless cottonwoods that separated the bar from the boardinghouse. It was snowing lightly, enough that their footprints would be visible, but that couldn’t be helped.

Her breaths came out in wispy puffs as she raced up the porch steps to the outside entrance, thankful they didn’t have to go through the main lobby to get to the room.

She stopped at the door, her pirate right behind her blocking the wind. She couldn’t see their assailants, but their voices carried as they found the two sets of footprints leading this way.

“I’m guessing you’ve got a bloody key...”

His husky voice faded when she dug into the left side of her push-up bra, having tucked the keys Peggy had given her earlier there. Her heart slammed inside her chest as her first attempt at unlocking the door failed. An unladylike but very Harley Quinn–like curse fell from her lips.

“Here, let me.” He grabbed the keys, working one into the lock. Nothing. The shouts of their pursuers were louder now. “Which one is it?”

“Darn if I know.” Katie stomped her feet, her toes now frozen. “Those guys are crazy! And getting closer! Hurry!”

They should’ve stayed at the bar. Should’ve found security and had those jerks kicked out. Here, they were alone, short of waking up the other tenants. She hated the idea of anyone ending up in a fight because of her—

Just then her pirate’s strong arm slid beneath the jacket and grabbed her around her waist as the door opened and they stumbled inside. The warmth of the room slapped against her cheeks and the cold disappeared.

Seconds later she heard their pursuers on the porch, right outside. Had they see them come in here? Would they—

Fists pounded on the door as angry voices called out.

Katie jumped, grabbing at his shirt.

The click of the dead bolt sliding into place echoed in the air. “Be still, lass. The blasted fools will give up soon.” Her pirate’s voice was calm as he whispered at her ear. He tightened his hold. “It’ll be all right.”

Moments later, the voices faded and the footsteps continued on until there was nothing but silence. Well, except for her punching out breaths in an attempt to slow the adrenaline racing through her. He was right there, too, his chest rising and falling in a tempo that betrayed his soothing words.

She looked up, wanting desperately to see him, but they were in almost total darkness. The only light came from a night-light on the far side of the room, but his wide shoulders cut out most of it. With his wig and mask she could barely make out his features.

She lifted her hand and traced the edge of his beard, from his ear down to his chin, the sharp intake of breath his only reaction to the contact.

“Thanks, Cap’n,” she whispered, “for saving my butt...”

Her words faded as a light thud sounded—his pirate hat hitting the floor.

His fingers brushed aside the bangs of the wig that hung to her eyes. His touch was hot, radiating through her mask as he traced the material down her temple until he reached her cheek and then her mouth.

Her breathing grew short and choppy again as he slowly rubbed at her bottom lip with his thumb, the friction igniting a burst of need inside her. Of its own volition, her tongue darted out, licking the tip of his finger.

A low groan filled the air. His groan. He pulled her up hard against his chest.

Grabbing at wide shoulders, she stretched onto her tiptoes, bringing their mouths to within inches of each other as his hand moved to the nape of her neck.

Anticipation crackled between them and then his mouth crashed down on hers.

Her lips parted, giving permission to the hunger in his kiss, and he took it, deepening the connection in a searing and demanding way. She welcomed his desire and returned it, having never felt like this before.

This alive, this connected.

His jacket fell from her shoulders, the loss of the warmth causing another shiver to race through her, but he tightened his hold as the kisses went on and on. Finally, needing to breathe, they broke apart, his mouth moving to her neck. He made his way to her ear as his hands dropped to cup her backside, tucking her tightly to him.

“Should I go?” he whispered. “Tell me now.”

A flicker of awareness at his soft words stole through her.

Did she—was he someone she—

He pressed her even closer, the heat of his mouth on her skin incinerating her thoughts, replacing them with halfhearted mental protests. This was crazy. All of it. The whole night. She didn’t do this kind of thing anymore. The careless girl she’d been all those years ago was gone.

To be this way, with him...now...tonight wasn’t what she’d been looking for.

But was it what she needed? What she wanted?

The arguments rattled her brain. Yes, she should tell him to go. Ignore everything in her that screamed how much she wanted the exact opposite.

The last hour or so with this man had been the most fun, most wild, most perfect in a long time. This was reckless and wrong and she’d be anguished over her actions come morning, but would she regret more not taking this moment?

She didn’t know, didn’t care.

She wanted this. Wanted him.

“Stay,” she breathed as he sought out her lips again. “Stay with me tonight.”

As soon as she spoke, he leaned back. She could almost feel his gaze on her. Fear that he’d changed his mind lanced through her like a sharp stick.

She tightened her grip on his shirt and then his mouth was on hers again. Frantic touches, pushing aside pieces of clothing, shuffling to the large bed against the far wall. His sword, vest and shirt disappeared. He bumbled through removing his boots but took pleasure in the slow rasp of the zippers on hers.

Still on his knees, he tugged at the elastic waist of her skirt, skimming it over her hips and down her legs before getting to his feet again. Loosening the stays of her corset had him whispering a piratey “bloody hell” hotly against her skin when the cords tangled. They finally gave way and he left kisses in their wake.

She reached for her wig, but then he was kissing her again, capturing her hands in his. They collapsed back into the softness of the blankets, and she thought of nothing more than finding solace and pleasure with his every touch, rapture with every kiss and escape in his arms.

* * *

Something was...not wrong, exactly, but Nolan still felt as if he were suffocating beneath whatever was strangling him. He turned his head so breathing came easier and brushed at his face and neck, pushing the silky smoothness away, thinking it felt a lot like a cat.

If he owned one, which he didn’t.

What the hell was that?

It took a moment, but it all came back.

The pirate costume, the wig, the party, the drinking.

The girl.

Transfixed by her boldness in the bar, he’d been content to hold onto those sweet curves as they danced, enjoying the way she burrowed into his chest. Then their escape, him following her lead into the cold and to a dark room, her in his arms once more and then...

Yeah, and then.

He squeezed his eyes shut and raked his hand higher. His fingers tangled with the wig and he fisted the strands, faintly remembering taking it, and the mask, off sometime in the middle of the night.

He tossed it in the direction of the floor, the jerky movement causing the jackhammer ramming inside his head to go into overdrive. Then he went still; only his eyelids moved as he blinked and tried to focus on his surroundings in the dark room.

He remembered the room. Sort of. Stretching one leg, he felt the cool sheet against his bare skin. And he wasn’t lying in bed alone.

Forcing himself to sit up, he heard a soft feminine moan come from his companion as she rolled away, taking the majority of the sheets with her. He swung away as well, planting his feet on the floor, and waited for his head to stop spinning.

And to see if she woke up.

Nope, not another sound except for the gentle breathing of Miss Harley Quinn, alias...who knew?

This was not good.

He never got her real name. Never shared his.

Damn, what made him do such a thing?

Was it the booze? The rush of playing out a fantasy of being someone else for the night? The fact he hadn’t been with a woman in over a year?

Hell if he knew, but at least he remembered being sober enough to make sure she’d wanted him to stay.

Oh, yeah, she’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her.

After a quick search of the floor for most of his clothing, he found the bathroom. He took care of business, ignoring the glass-walled shower that beckoned, settling instead for washing the remains of the makeup from his face with a flowery-scented soap.

Dressing quickly, he checked for his wallet, keys and cell phone, all still in his pockets. It was almost 5:00 a.m. He had to get home. If the kids woke up and found he wasn’t there, they would call out the troops.

Namely, his brothers. A Murphy search party? No, thanks.

But first things first.

He reached for the door, realizing he hadn’t had to deal with morning-after awkwardness since his freshman year in college. At least back then he’d been gentleman enough to get the girl’s name first.

Oh, how times had changed.

He opened the door, allowing a shaft of light to fall across the bed, highlighting the lady’s curves and stopping him in his tracks.

The bedsheet only came up to her hips, leaving the rest of her bare for his viewing pleasure, including a tiny waist and the smooth expanse of her back. He noticed for the first time a script tattoo running vertically the length of her spine. It ended—or began—with a grouping of yellow flowers at the dip just above her luscious backside, but he was too far away to make out the words.

A part of him felt like a voyeur for even looking at her, despite the intimacy they’d shared last night, but he couldn’t help it.

Or his body’s reaction as the memories of the two of them flooded his head.

His gaze continued upward to a mass of red wavy hair, most of it pulled forward and disappearing over one shoulder except for a lone piece that curled—

Wait, red hair? Last night she’d been a blonde.

It had been a wig, part of her comic book character costume. She’d removed it during the night as well.

His gut clenched as he remembered the feel of her real hair trailing over his chest and stomach, but to see it now, the rich, vibrant chestnut color lying against her skin...

It was a very familiar color.

Nolan’s gaze ran the length of her once more before recognition slammed into him. Closing his eyes, he slumped against the doorjamb.

No, it couldn’t be. There was no way he had—they had...

It couldn’t be her.

It couldn’t be Katie.

He forced himself into the room and around the end of the bed. Tripping over his boots, he swore softly beneath his breath, grabbed the footwear and kept moving until he could see her.

Even in the dimly lit room, her long red hair stood out against the smoothness of her skin and the white sheet she held against her body. Her wig was long gone and so too her mask.

Yes, the woman he’d spent some pretty memorable hours with was indeed Katie.

His Katie.

Their Katie.

Nolan dropped to a chair across from the bed and stared at her for a long moment before he shut his eyes. Memories of holding her, touching and kissing her and her doing the same to him came rushing back.

His chin to his chest, he opened his eyes again, his gaze on the boots held tightly in his hand.

Put them on. Get the hell out of here.

His gut clenched. Running away wasn’t going to fix this. Nothing was. How could he have not known—

She mumbled something, and his head jerked up.

He ignored the intense pain the action created and waited. She remained silent, eyes closed. The air rushed past his lips in a low whoosh as he sat there, taking in the beauty that was Katie.

He’d never seen her like this.

At the office she was always poised and polished, from the top of her perfectly styled hair to her feet, usually encased in high heels, even in the middle of a Wyoming winter. And then there were the times they saw each other on the weekends, somewhere in town or at a family gathering. She was always so pulled together, even casually dressed in jeans.

Now, her curls were a mess and even with traces of the white makeup that had covered the lower half of her face still on her cheeks, she looked...

Hell, younger than her age, which was a full ten years junior to his. Another reason, besides the fact she was his employee, that kept him from acting on—

Dammit, from crawling right back in that bed.

He had to get out of here.

For both their sakes.

He didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her working for his family. Okay, anything more. He had to forget this night ever happened, and if Katie woke up thinking the guy she’d hooked up with was a louse who’d walked out on her, all the better.

Especially because it’d be true.

Yanking on his boots, he hunted around for the belt, sword, hat, wig and jacket. He turned for the door, his hand almost on the knob when her soft words stopped him.

“Hmm, I hope you’re heading out to grab some morning java.”

Nolan closed his eyes.

“I’d like a large,” she went on. “Decaf. Minimum four sugars to make it tolerable.”

All information he was well aware of.

He took a deep breath and turned back. “Yeah, I know how you like your coffee, but no, I—”

“Wait...what?” She shot up in bed, those red waves bouncing around her shoulders as she clutched the sheet to her chest. “How do you—why are you—oh my god, Nolan! What are you doing here?”

He stayed silent, watching as she processed the night’s events. Her gaze went to the rumpled sheets and empty spot beside her, to him, and back to the bed again. “Oh, no, that was you? That was us? But how—did we—”

We did. Three times. Something else he hadn’t done since his college days.

He offered a silent prayer of thanks for the trio of condoms he’d had in his wallet. “Yeah, evidence seems to indicate that was us.”

“But you...you were on a business trip.”

“I got back early.”

“And decided to go to the party? Alone?” She covered her face with her hand. “Please, tell me you weren’t there with—”

“No.” He cut her off, clearing up that assumption right away. His time with the high school vice principal had ended after a few weeks and, yeah, he could blame Katie for that, too, but there was no way he was telling her that.

Not now. Not ever.

“I was at the Blue Creek alone...until I ran into you.”

Her hand fell away. “You mean until I ran into you. Literally.”

He nodded again, the stupid beads in his whiskers knocking against his chin. What he’d give for a razor. “Yeah. I had no idea who you were.”

“I had no idea who you were,” she cried. “How could we not know? We’ve worked together nearly every day for the last five years. I’ve been to your house. Your family’s home. Family events. Geesh, we’re practically—”

“I can’t explain.” Nolan cut her off before she said the F word one more time. “Great costumes on both our parts—impressive accent, by the way—and what I can assure you on my end was a lot of booze.”

“Mine, too, but that’s no excuse. Oh, this is all my fault.” Katie shook her head in disbelief. Her fingers churned, gathering the sheets and exposing those long legs of hers. “I thought I was ready. I thought I needed—I should’ve... I can’t believe—”

“This is not your fault.” Nolan started toward her but halted when her wide eyes latched onto him again. “I was there—here—too. I could’ve walked away at any time last night.”

“When? When I pushed you onto the dance floor?” She grabbed a pillow and crushed it to her chest. “Or dragged you out of the bar? Across the parking lot until I had you alone in this room?”

“We were trying to get away from those goons.”

“That was my fault, too.”

“Hey, I kissed you first.”

And he wanted to do it again.

Right here. Right now.

In fact, the need to go to her, to pull her into his arms, was so strong he had to take a step back or else he might do just that.

Her beautiful green eyes sought out his, and silence stretched between them again.

He wondered what was going on in that pretty head of hers, especially when her gaze traveled the length of him, taking in his wrinkled clothes.

Was she remembering last night?

How she’d easily rid him of the belt and sword before moving on to the buttons of his shirt. How he’d fumbled with the strings on her top while laying kisses against the sweetest-smelling skin—

“Do you want me to turn in my resignation?”

Her question shocked him. How could she think he’d want that? “What? No, of course not.”

“If you don’t want me to quit, what do you suggest we do about last night?”

“Nothing.” The answer came so fast, despite the enticing images racing through his head, it had to be the right one. The only one. “We keep this—to ourselves. Tell no one and just go back...to, well, back to normal.”

“Normal? As in we pretend—” she waved a hand at the empty spot in the bed where he’d lain next to her “—this never happened?”

Her question burned, an acid-filled sting that raced across his chest, but he nodded anyway. “Exactly. The fewer people who know the better.”

“Half of Destiny was at the bar last night.” She sighed and rested her chin on the edge of the pillow. “Didn’t you run into people you know? I did. Quite a few.”

“None when we were together. And we left in such a hurry I doubt anyone paid attention. Besides, I wasn’t the only guy dressed like this last night.”

Meaning if someone remembered her in her unique Harley Quinn costume getting up close and personal with a pirate, it could’ve been any number of men.

And didn’t that thought sit like a rock in his gut.

“What about your brothers?” she asked, her voice soft now. “Do any of them know you went to the party last night?”

“No, but that’ll change soon enough.”

“Why?”

“My kids were the ones who insisted I needed to get out. Have some fun. And you know my fam—ah, they’ll find out.”

“Well, everyone knew I was going. I talked about my costume all week.”

Nolan dragged his hand through his hair. Damn, this was too complicated to think about, especially when he was hungover and in desperate need of the coffee Katie had mentioned earlier. “We don’t have to pretend like we never saw each other.”

“Just that we never ended up...you know.”

Yeah, he knew.

He also knew that unless they put a screeching halt to whatever this was, or could be, they’d only be asking for trouble.

A lot of trouble.

There was enough upheaval at the headquarters as it was. Add the fact that he and his daughter were barely speaking. And Katie’s breakup with that jerk at the end of the summer still had to be hurting—

Whoa, wait a minute. Is that what last night was about? Looking for someone—

Nolan pushed away that thought before it could fully form, chalking up the vile taste in the back of his throat to the amount of booze still in his system. “We don’t want to screw things up—to change anything. It wouldn’t do any good if we—”

Damn, this was coming out all wrong. His frustration spilled out in a growl. “I’m trying to do what’s best for both of us. Keeping what happened last night just between us is the right thing to do. Agreed?”

She opened her mouth, the tip of her tongue darting out to lick at her lips. The simple action had the blood rushing from his pounding head southward.

He shifted the heavy overcoat in front of him. He needed to get out of here soon or he was going to forget all the crap he’d just said and—

“Agreed.”

Her quiet acceptance should’ve made him happy, but her soft tone, and the fact she kept her gaze lowered and centered on the bed, bothered him.

More than he was going to admit, which made no sense at all because he’d gotten what he wanted. Which meant he should get out of here. Now.

“So, I’ll see you...ah, at the office. On Monday.”

“Right. Monday.”

“Katie, I’m—”

“Don’t.” Her green eyes blazed. “Apologizing is the worst thing you could do right now. Worse than sneaking out on me.”

He should’ve known she’d figured out that had been his first idea.

And he wasn’t going to say he was sorry. How could he when everything in him wanted to go right back to that bed and be with her again?

“I didn’t plan on this—” Nolan backed up to the door. He reached behind him and twisted the knob. “I don’t want you to think—I’m not—I just wasn’t expecting it to be you.”

Katie turned away, biting hard at her bottom lip. She remained silent for so long he wondered if he should just get out of here.

Then she raised her head, and tossed those beautiful red curls back over one bare shoulder. “That’s okay. I wasn’t expecting it to be you, either.”