Читать книгу A Mother's Wish: Wanted: Perfect Partner / Father's Day - Debbie Macomber - Страница 11

The minute they were alone outside, Meg hit Steve across his upper arm, hurting her hand in the process. Biting her lip, she shook her fingers several times, then clutched her aching hand protectively with the other.

“What was that for?” Steve demanded, glaring at her.

“You overdid it,” she snapped, barely understanding her own outrage.

“I had to convince her I was unsuitable, didn’t I?”

Meg bristled. “Yes, but you went above and beyond what we discussed. All that business about me being so beautiful,” she muttered as she walked to the driveway where he’d parked the Harley-Davidson. She climbed onto the leather seat without thinking.

“I thought I did a great job,” Steve argued. A smile raised the edges of his mouth.

“That’s another thing,” she said, unable to stop looking at him. “Was that kiss really necessary?”

“Yes,” he said calmly, but Meg could tell that he didn’t take kindly to her rebuke. “Lindsey needed to see me in action,” he insisted.

“You frightened my daughter half out of her wits as it was. There was no need to … “

Steve’s eyes widened, then softened into a smile. “You liked the kiss,” he said flatly. “You liked it and that scared you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! It … it was disgusting.”

“No, it wasn’t.” His smile was cocky. He laughed, the timbre low and mildly threatening. “Maybe I should prove how wrong you are.”

Meg shifted uncomfortably on the seat. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, feigning boredom. “You’re going to take me out for an hour or so and then drive me back. Right? By the way, where did you get the motorcycle?”

He advanced a step toward her. “It’s mine.”

“Yours?” He was exactly the kind of man her mother had warned her about, and here she was flirting with danger. He moved a step closer and she held herself rigid.

“You don’t know much about men, do you?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“I was married for nearly six years,” she informed him primly. He was close now, too close. She kept her spine stiff and her eyes straight ahead. If the motorcycle was his, it was reasonable to assume the leather jacket belonged to him as well. The persona he’d taken on, the criminal element, might not be too far from the truth.

“You haven’t been with a man since, have you?”

She felt his breath against her flushed face. “I refuse to answer questions of a personal nature,” she returned, her voice hoarse and low.

“You haven’t,” he said confidently. “Look at me, Meg.”

“No. Let’s get this ride over with.”

“Look at me,” he repeated.

She tried to resist, but the words were warm and hypnotic. Against her better judgment, she twisted toward him. “Yes?” she asked, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might leap right through her chest.

He wove his hands into her hair and tilted her head back so that she couldn’t avoid staring up at him. His gaze bored relentlessly into hers.

“Admit it,” he whispered. “You enjoyed the kiss.” His eyes were compelling, she admitted reluctantly, resisting him every step.

“How like a man—everything’s about ego,” she said in an effort to make light of what had happened. “Even a silly little kiss.”

Steve frowned.

There was a fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach, the same feeling that had attacked her when he’d kissed her by the staircase. She felt vulnerable and helpless.

“It wasn’t little and it wasn’t silly. But it was what we both wanted,” he said in a deceptively normal voice.

“You’re crazy,” she murmured, hurrying to assure him that he’d been wrong. Very wrong. She lowered her eyes, but this proved to be a tactical error. Before she realized what he intended, he was kissing her again.

Meg wanted to protest. If she’d fought him, struggled, he might have released her. But her one weak objection came in the form of a moan, and it appeared to encourage rather than dissuade him.

All at once it was important to get closer. A moment later she was kneeling on the leather cushion and Steve had slipped his arms around her middle. They didn’t stay there long. He glided his hands along her back, urging her more tightly against him.

Meg didn’t require much inducement. Her body willfully molded itself to his. Then, abruptly, her eyes fluttered open and with a determined effort she broke free. Steve’s arms tightened before he relaxed and finally released her.

The look on his face was one of shock.

For her own part, Meg was having a difficult time breathing. Sensations swarmed through her. Unwanted sensations. Steve made her feel as if she’d never been kissed before, never been held or loved. Never been married or shared intimacies with a man.

She blinked, and Steve backed away. He frowned and raked his fingers through his hair, apparently sorting out his own troubled emotions.

“I suppose you expect me to admit I enjoyed that,” she said with more than a hint of belligerence. These feelings frightened her. The fact that she’d reacted to him could easily be explained. Good grief, she was a normal woman—but this giddy, end-of-the-world sensation wasn’t anything she’d ever experienced.

“You don’t have to admit to a damned thing,” he said. He climbed onto the Hog and revved the engine aggressively.

“Stop,” she cried, shouting above the noise. She waved a hand to clear away the exhaust.

“What’s wrong now?” he snapped, twisting around to look at her.

“Nothing …. Just go slow, all right?”

Separated by only a couple of inches, Meg felt him tense. “I’m not exactly in a slow mood.”

“I guessed as much.”

She didn’t know what he intended as he expertly maneuvered the motorcycle out of her driveway. Mortified, Meg glanced up and down the street, wondering how many of her neighbors had witnessed the exchange between her and Steve. Fortunately Lindsey wasn’t at the front window watching as Meg had half feared.

“Hang on,” he shouted.

She placed her hands lightly on either side of his waist, hoping to keep the contact as impersonal as possible—until they turned the first corner. From that moment on, she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could.

Meg was grateful that he chose not to drive far. He stopped at a park less than a mile from her house. After he’d eased into a parking space, he switched off the engine and sat motionless for a couple of minutes.

“You okay?” he asked after a while.

“I’m fine. Great. That was … fun.” She was astonished at her new talent for telling white lies. She was far from fine. Her insides were a mess, although that had almost nothing to do with the motorcycle ride. Her heart refused to settle down to a normal pace, and she couldn’t stop thinking about their kisses. The first time had been traumatic, but it didn’t compare to her nearly suffocating reaction to his second kiss.

Steve checked his watch. “We’ll give it another five minutes and then I’ll take you back to the house. That should give Lindsey enough time to worry about you without sending her into a panic.”

“Perfect,” she said brightly—a little too brightly.

“Then tomorrow afternoon I’ll pick you up after work and you can do your thing with my sister.”

Although he couldn’t see her, she nodded. Meg only hoped her act for Nancy would be as convincing as Steve’s had been with Lindsey.

“After that, we won’t need to see each other again,” Steve said. “As far as I’m concerned, it isn’t a minute too soon.”

Meg felt much the same way. She was just as eager to get him out of her life.

Wasn’t she?

It hadn’t been a good day. Steve would’ve liked to blame his foul mood on work-related problems, but everything at Emerald City Body Shop had run like clockwork. The one reason that presented itself was Meg Remington.

He’d known from the first night that getting involved with her would mean trouble. Sure enough, he was waist-deep in quicksand, and all because he hadn’t wanted to hurt the woman’s feelings.

Okay, that accounted for their dinner date, but afterward … what happened was no one’s fault except his own. Donning his leather jacket and jeans and playing the role of the disgruntled ex-con had been fun. But then he had to go and do something stupid.

The stupid part was because of the kiss. He’d been a fool to force Meg to admit how good it had been. This was what he got for allowing his pride to stand in the way.

Well, Steve had learned his lesson. The next time he was tempted to kiss Meg, he’d go stand in the middle of the freeway. Man, oh man, she could kiss. Only she didn’t seem to realize it. Much more of that kissing and he would’ve been renting a hotel room.

Not Meg, though. Oh, no. She acted as outraged as a nun. Apparently she’d forgotten that men and women did that sort of thing. Enjoyed it, too. Looked forward to doing it again.

The woman was insane, and the sooner he could extract her from his life, the better. He didn’t need this. Who did?

One more night, he assured himself. He was taking Meg to meet Nancy this evening, and when they were finished, it would be over and they’d never have to see each other again. If she played her cards right. He’d done his part.

Despite his sour mood, Steve grinned. He’d never forget the look of shock and horror in Lindsey’s eyes when he walked into the house. Her jaw had nearly hit the carpet when he put his arms around Meg’s waist and announced that he was an ex-con. He wouldn’t forget the look in Meg’s eyes, either.

Steve laughed outright.

“Something funny?” Gary Wilcox asked.

Steve glared at his foreman. “Not a thing. Now get back to work.”

At six o’clock, Steve pulled into the parking space in the alley behind Meg’s bookstore. He didn’t like the idea of sneaking around and going to her back door, but that was what Meg wanted and far be it from him to argue. He’d be well rid of the woman—at least that was what he kept trying to tell himself.

He knocked and waited a few minutes, growing impatient.

The door opened and a woman in black mesh nylons and the shortest miniskirt he’d seen in years stood in front of him. She vaguely resembled Tina Turner. She wore tons of makeup and she’d certainly had her hair done at the same salon as Tina.

“I’m here for Meg Remington,” he said, annoyed that Meg had made such a fuss about his coming to the back door and then sent someone else to answer it.

“Steve,” Meg whispered, “it’s me.”

“What the hell?” He jerked his head back and examined her more thoroughly. “We’re meeting my sister,” he reminded her stiffly, “not going to some costume party.”

“I took my cue from you,” she said. “Good grief! You arrived at my door looking like a Hell’s Angel—what did you expect me to do?”

Steve rubbed his face. Darned if he knew anymore. All he wanted was to get this over with. “Fine. Let’s get out of here.”

“Just a minute. I need to change shoes.”

She slipped out of a perfectly fine pair of flats and into spiky high heels that added a good five inches to her height. Steve wondered how she’d manage to walk in those things. She might as well have been on stilts.

He led her around to his car and opened the door. He noticed that she sighed with what sounded like relief once she was inside the car.

“I didn’t know what I was going to do if you brought that motorcycle again.” She tugged down her miniskirt self-consciously.

“For the record, I don’t often take it out.”

She looked relieved, but why it should matter to her one way or the other, he had no idea.

“Just remember,” he said, feeling obliged to caution her. “Nancy’s a few years older than Lindsey. She won’t be as easily fooled.”

“I’ll be careful about overkill,” she mumbled, “unlike certain people I know.”

The drive took an eternity, and it wasn’t due to heavy traffic, either. In fact, when Steve looked at his watch he was surprised at what good time they’d made. What made the drive so troublesome—he hated to admit this—was Meg’s legs. She’d crossed them, exposing plenty of smooth, shapely thigh. Her high heels dangled from the ends of her toes.

Steve appreciated women as a whole—some more than others, of course. He didn’t focus on body parts. But it was torture to sit with Meg in the close confines of his car and keep his eyes off her legs. The woman looked incredible. If only she’d keep her mouth shut!

Nancy was standing on the porch when Steve pulled into the driveway.

“This is where your sister lives?” Meg asked.

“It’s my home,” Steve answered, certain she was about to find something wrong with it.

“Your home?” She sounded impressed. “It’s very nice.”

“Thanks.” He turned off the engine. “Nancy’s quite a bit younger than I am—a surprise for my mom and dad. She attends college at the University of Washington nine months out of the year. Our parents retired to Montana a couple of years back.”

“I see. Does Nancy live with you?”

“Not on your life,” he said, climbing out of the car. “She’s in residence during the school year. She got a job here this summer and I agreed to let her stay with me a few months. A mistake I don’t plan to repeat anytime soon.”

Steve was watching for his sister’s reaction when he helped Meg out of the car. To her credit, the nineteen-year-old didn’t reveal much, but Steve knew her well enough to realize she was shocked by Meg’s appearance.

“You must be Nancy,” Meg said in a low, sultry voice.

“And you must be Meg,” Nancy said, coming down the steps to greet her. “I’ve been dying to meet you.”

“I hope I’m not a disappointment.” This was said in a soft, cooing tone, as if she couldn’t have tolerated disillusioning Steve’s little sister. She clasped Steve’s arm and he noticed for the first time that her nails—now two inches long—were painted a brilliant fire engine red.

Nancy held open the door and smiled in welcome. “Please, come inside.”

Meg’s high heels clattered against the tile entryway. Steve looked around, pleased to note that his sister had cleaned up the house a bit.

“Oh, Stevie,” Meg whined, “you never told me what a beautiful home you have.” She trailed one finger along the underside of his jaw. “But then, we haven’t had time to discuss much of anything, have we?”

“Make yourself comfortable,” Steve said and watched as Meg chose to sit on the sofa. She sat, crossing her legs with great ceremony. Then she patted the empty space beside her, silently requesting Steve to join her there. He glanced longingly at his favorite chair, but moved across the room and sat down next to Meg.

The minute he was comfortable, Meg placed her hand possessively on his knee and flexed her nails into his thigh. Inch by provocative inch she raked her nails up his leg until it was all Steve could do not to pop straight off the sofa. He caught her hand and stopped her from reaching what seemed to be her ultimate destination.

Her expression was mildly repentant when she looked at him, but Steve knew her well enough to know the action had been deliberate.

“I thought you might be hungry before Steve takes you to dinner, so I made a few hors d’oeuvres,” Nancy said and excused herself.

“What are you doing?” Steve whispered the minute his sister was out of the room.

“Doing? What do you mean?” She had wide-eyed innocence down to an art.

“Never mind,” he muttered as Nancy returned from the kitchen carrying a small silver platter.

“Those look wonderful,” Meg said sweetly when his sister put the tray on the coffee table in front of them. “But I couldn’t eat a thing.”

To the best of his knowledge it was the first time his sister had cooked from the moment she’d moved in with him, and he wasn’t about to let it go to waste. He chose a tiny wiener wrapped in some kind of crispy dough and tossed it in his mouth.

“You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble,” Meg told his sister.

Nancy sat across the room from them, apparently at a complete loss for words.

“I suspect you’re wondering about all these letters and e-mails I wrote,” Meg said, getting the conversation going. “I hope you aren’t unhappy with me.”

“No, no, not at all,” Nancy said, rushing the words together.

“It’s just that I’ve come to know what people really want from me by the things they say.” She turned, and with the tip of her index finger wiped a crumb from the corner of his mouth. Her tongue moistened her lips and Steve’s insides turned to mush.

“I learned a long time ago what men want from a woman,” Meg continued after a moment, “especially when I went to work for a phone sex line. Most of the guys are just looking for a woman to talk dirty to them.”

“I see.” Nancy folded her hands primly in her lap.

“There was the occasional guy who was looking for a good girl to shock, of course. I got very talented at acting horrified.” She made a soft, gasping sound, then laughed demurely.

“Why … why would someone like you place an ad in Dateline?” Nancy asked, nervously brushing the hair from her face.

“Well, first,” Meg said, holding his sister’s gaze, “it’s just about the only way someone like me can meet anyone decent. But it wasn’t your brother who answered the ad, now, was it?”

“No, but—”

“Not that it matters,” Meg said, cutting her off. “I was tired of my job and all those guys asking me to say those nasty things, and I didn’t want to start working on my back again.”

“On your … back,” Nancy repeated.

“I’m sorry, sugar. I didn’t mean to shock you. I’ve got a colorful past—but that doesn’t mean I’m a bad girl. I’ve got a heart just brimming with love. All I need is the right man.” Her gaze wandered to Steve and was long and deliberate. “Your brother’s given me a reason to dream again,” Meg said softly. “Lots of people think women like me don’t have feelings, but they’re wrong.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Nancy said tentatively.

“I knew I chose right when I found out your brother has his own business.”

“He’s struggled financially for years,” Nancy was quick to tell her. “It’s still touch and go. He lives from one month to the next.” Nancy glared at him pointedly. “Don’t you, Steve?”

“Not anymore. I’m more than solvent now,” Steve tossed in for good measure, struggling not to laugh. He was enjoying this.

Meg tightened her arm around his. “I can see how well Stevie’s doing for himself. He’s wonderful,” she said, refusing to look away. The adoration on her face embarrassed him.

“Why, Steve here could make enough money to keep me in the lifestyle to which I’d like to become accustomed.” She laughed coyly.

“Ah …” It sounded to Steve as if his sister was close to hyperventilating.

“Of course, I wouldn’t take anything from him without giving in return. That wouldn’t be fair.” She snuggled closer to his side and gave him a look so purely sexual Steve was convinced he’d embarrass them all.

“There are things I could teach your brother,” Meg said in a husky voice full of sexual innuendo. She acted as though she was eager to get started right that moment and the only thing holding her back was propriety. Her breathing grew heavy—and if he didn’t know better he’d think she actually had worked for one of those disreputable phone services.

Soon he was having a problem controlling his own breathing.

“Steve!” Nancy snapped.

He turned his attention back to his sister, staring at her blankly.

“Didn’t you hear Meg?” she asked.

He shrugged. He knew the two women were talking, but he’d barely noticed their conversation.

“Meg’s talking about moving in with you,” Nancy said through clenched teeth.

“I don’t mean to rush you, darling’,” Meg whispered. Leaning forward, she licked his earlobe with the tip of her tongue.

Hot sensation shot down his spine.

Meg threw back her head and laughed softly, then whispered just loudly enough for Nancy to hear, “I have an incredibly talented tongue.”

Nancy closed her eyes as if she couldn’t bear to watch another minute of this. Frankly, Steve didn’t know how much more he could take himself.

“I think it’s time we left for dinner,” he said. Otherwise he was going to start believing all the promises Meg was making. Heaven knew, he wanted to believe them. The demure bookseller had turned into something completely different. All traces of innocence had disappeared and in their place was the most sexually provocative female he’d ever met. Just being in the same room with her made his blood sizzle.

“You want to leave already?” Meg gave the impression that she was terribly disappointed.

“That’s probably best,” Nancy muttered, and then realizing what she’d said, hurried to add, “I mean, you two don’t want to waste your evening with me, do you?” She frowned at Steve. “You won’t be late, will you?”

“No.”

“Unfortunately, I’m still working for the phone people,” Meg said, “so I won’t keep him too long, but I can’t promise he’ll have much kick left in him when I’m finished.” Apparently thinking herself exceptionally clever, Meg laughed at her own joke.

It wasn’t until they were back in the car and on the freeway that Steve recognized how angry he was. It made no sense, but he wasn’t exactly rational just then.

“Why are you so mad?” Meg asked about halfway back to the bookstore. They hadn’t spoken a word from the time they’d left his house.

“Talk about overkill,” he muttered.

“I thought I did a good job,” she said.

“You came off like a—”

“I know. That’s what I wanted. After meeting me, do you honestly think your sister’s going to encourage our relationship?”

“No,” he growled.

“I can guarantee you that Lindsey doesn’t want me to see you, either. I thought that’s what this whole scheme of yours was about.”

“It sounded like a good idea at the time.” He tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “It seemed like a surefire way to convince your daughter that I was the wrong man for you.”

“And your sister that I was equally wrong for you.”

Silence settled over them like nightfall. Neither of them seemed inclined to talk again.

Steve edged his car into the alley behind Meg’s store and parked his car behind hers.

“I’m not so sure anymore,” he said without looking at her.

“About what?”

“The two of us. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I decided I kind of like you.” It hadn’t been easy to admit, and he hoped she appreciated what it had cost his pride. “It probably wouldn’t have been as obvious if you hadn’t made yourself out to be so cheap. That isn’t you any more than the rebel without a cause is me.”

He wished she’d say something. When she did speak, her voice was timid and small. “Then there was the kiss.”

“Kisses,” he corrected. “They were pretty great and we both know it,” he said with confidence. He knew what his own reaction had been, and she hadn’t fooled him with hers.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Especially the one on the motorcycle,” he said, prompting her to continue.

“Especially the one on the motorcycle,” she mimicked. “Honestly, Steve, you must’ve known.”

His smile was full blown. “I did.”

“I … I didn’t do a very good job of disguising what I was feeling.”

She hadn’t, but he was in a gracious mood.

“How about dinner?” he suggested. He was eager to have the real Meg Remington back. Eager to experiment with a few more kisses—see if they were anything close to what his memory kept insisting they’d been.

She hesitated. “I want to, but I can’t,” she eventually said.

He bristled and turned in the driver’s seat to face her. “Why not?”

“I promised Lindsey I’d be home by seven and it’s nearly that now.”

“Call her and tell her you’re going out to dinner with me.”

She dragged in a deep breath and seemed to hold it. “I can’t do that, either.”

“Why not?”

“After meeting you, I promised her we’d talk. She wanted to last evening, and we didn’t …. That was my fault. You kissed me,” she said, “and I didn’t feel like a heart-to-heart with my daughter after that.”

“And it’s all my fault?”

“Yes,” she insisted.

“Do you know what Lindsey wants to discuss?”

“Of course, I know. You. She doesn’t want me seeing you again, which is exactly the point of the entire charade. Remember?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, scowling.

“Are … are you telling me you’ve changed your mind?” she asked.

“Yes.” He hated to be the one to say it first, but one of them had to. “What about you?”

“I think so.”

Steve flattened his hand against the steering wheel. “I swear you’re about the worst thing that’s ever happened to my ego.”

She laughed and rested her hand on his shoulder. The wig she had on tilted sideways and she righted it. “That does sound terrible, doesn’t it?”

He smiled. “Yeah. The least you could do is show some enthusiasm.”

“I haven’t dated much in the last ten years. But if I was going to choose any man, it would be you.”

“That’s better,” he said. He wanted to kiss her. He’d been thinking about it from the moment he’d picked her up.

“Only …” Meg said sadly.

“Only what?” he repeated, lowering his mouth to hers.

Their lips met and it was heaven, just the way he’d known it would be. By the time the kiss ended, Steve was leaning his head against the window of the car door, his eyes closed. It was even more wonderful than he’d remembered, and that seemed impossible.

Meg’s head was on his chest, tucked beneath his chin.

“It’s too late,” she whispered.

“What’s too late?”

“We’ve gone to all this trouble to convince Lindsey that you’re all wrong for me.”

“I know, but … “

“Do you think Nancy will believe this was all a silly joke?”

“No.”

“I think we should end everything right here and now, don’t you?” she asked.

Steve stiffened. “If that’s what you want.”

She moved away from him. “I guess it is,” she said, with just a hint of regret.