Читать книгу Sleeping With The Enemy - Jamie Denton - Страница 12

“IT’S NOT A TYPICALLY southern dish, but it’s healthy,” Dee said, hating that her voice trembled. She added a covered casserole dish filled with rice pilaf to the breakfast bar next to the salad and glazed carrots, and hoped he didn’t notice how her hands shook nervously.

He set the pan with the grilled halibut by the stove. “Then it should suit my Yankee taste buds,” he said, a teasing grin slanting his mouth in a way that had her heart thumping a few beats too fast.

He took the seat she indicated and poured them each a glass of wine. She added the halibut to their plates before climbing onto the bar stool kitty-corner from him. She’d changed the place settings a half-dozen times while he’d been grilling the fish on the little portable grill the previous tenant had left behind. Finally she’d aimed for the safest seating arrangement, one that would give her the most distance physically. There was enough awareness sizzling between them to send her into sensory overload. Sitting directly beside him where their thighs could brush, their knees lightly touch, or their feet tangle would be like flicking a lit match onto a bale of dried straw.

She cleared her throat, then offered him the plain glass bowl filled with glazed carrots. “So where are you from, Yankee?” He took the dish from her, his thick tanned fingers brushing against hers. She should’ve expected it, but the tingles rippling through her and landing right in the tips of her breasts still surprised, and annoyed her. Why now? Why did her well-trained and dormant hormones have to choose this time, this place, this man to become unruly and zing to life? Why, when she would be leaving the adorably quaint southern coastal town for a new life, did she finally find herself responding to the opposite sex?

Her feminine senses went haywire when he was around. They didn’t even fully function when he wasn’t around, either, and that was a very big problem. Especially when she took into consideration how she’d allowed herself to become distracted by his very kissable-looking mouth, imagining his kisses twice as intoxicating as his eyes when he looked at her that way. Like the way that said he knew every nuance, every curve, every aspect of her body as intimately as his own.

Impossible, but she couldn’t stop the wayward thoughts any more than she could stop the sun from shining.

There were times, she concluded, reaching for the dish of pilaf, when life just wasn’t fair.

“Ohio originally,” he said, drawing her attention back to his uniquely handsome face. His slightly crooked nose had been broken at least once in his life. But his eyes. Oh, a girl could really get lost in such an interesting shade of blue. That deep lilac color combined with the way he looked at her were just way too sexy. Factor in those long, dark lashes a tube of the highest quality mascara could never hope to duplicate on any woman, and her previously controlled hormones were history.

His mouth wasn’t so bad, either, she thought, absently cutting her fish with the edge of her fork. His lips, with the lower slightly fuller, could only be called sensual. Definitely sensual, she thought as she stared, watching them move as he spoke.

“Doc?”

His voice was sharp enough to snap her right back into reality. She forced her gaze from his lips back to his eyes. “Did you say something?” Well, of course he said something. His lips had been moving and she’d been staring at them like a love-struck schoolgirl for crying out loud.

He grinned while she struggled to regain her usual cool, calm composure. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“I asked where you were from,” he said.

She pushed her fork through her rice. She’d learned to mix the truth with the lies, but she’d always told the same story. She no longer had a family. At least none she could openly discuss. As far as anyone knew, she was Dee Romine, the only living surviving child of the late David and Ellen Romine. Her decision on exactly what to say when asked by anyone was based in fact, for the most part. Never the superstitious type, she still wouldn’t dare to tweak fate’s nose by saying that her brother had died as well, afraid if she did, she might be predisposing Jared’s fate. The lies weren’t something she cared for, so she simply never mentioned her brother.

“Washington state,” she said after a moment.

He reached for his wineglass. “That’s a long way from family.”

“I don’t have family.” The practiced lie slipped easily from her lips. Too easily. “What about you?” she asked, bringing the conversation back to him. “The Carolina coastline isn’t exactly a good stretch of the legs from Ohio, you know.”

He lifted the wineglass to his lips and drank slowly. “My folks are both retired,” he finally said, almost as if he was deciding how much to tell her, which was silly. She just had a guilty conscience is all.

He took another sip of wine before setting his glass aside. “My old man taught history and government at the local high school, and mom was the Home Ec teacher.”

“Is that why you went into teaching? Following in your parents’ footsteps?”

“Something like that I guess. Speaking of teaching, Johnson said I should contact you.”

She stopped with her fork poised in midair. “Principal Johnson? Contact me? Why?”

He pushed his near empty plate aside and rested his tanned forearms on the counter. “He’s punishing the coaching staff, and I got caught in the middle of the battle between him and the head coach,” he said with a wry grin. “I guess it could be worse, but I doubt it. I’ve been assigned one of those half-semester senior-seminar classes.”

“Let me guess. He’s taking it out on the coaches because he’d rather put money into academia than the sports programs right?”

“That about sums it up.”

“It’s been a long-standing battle around these parts,” she told him. “Don’t take it personally.” She polished off the last of her halibut before asking, “But what does it have to do with me?”

He let out a sigh and reached again for his wineglass. “Senior Sex.”

He had to be kidding. She’d assisted Ellen Billings with the curriculum when the older woman had been assigned the class two years ago. Dee had gone to speak to the students about the varying types of birth control available, stressing abstinence was the most acceptable form. Teens being teens, no matter what she told them, she knew peer pressure would often lead to sexual experimentation regardless of the dangers to their emotional and physical health. At least after her presentation the students were more than prepared, and had gone away with more than just a basic understanding of the concept of safe sex.

She set her fork on the plate. “You’re joking, right?” she asked, hopeful that he was in fact teasing her. The thought of showing the senior class the appropriate method of applying a condom, in front of the one man who’d managed to awaken her libido wasn’t exactly the most appealing.

“No joke, Doc,” he said, his voice tinged with humor. “So would you be willing to show the class how to put a condom on a banana?”

She reached for her glass, pausing before taking a long and much needed drink. “I use a cucumber actually,” she quipped. “It’s easier for the students. Contrasting colors and all that.”

He chuckled, the sound a low, sexy rumble. “Isn’t that just a little ambitious?”

“You were a teenage boy once. Wouldn’t you rather the girls saw you as a cucumber than a banana?”

His spontaneous burst of laughter brought a smile to her lips. It was no use, she suddenly realized. Fighting the sexual awareness buzzing between them was an effort in futility. Unless of course she was willing to pack up and move tomorrow to either Boston or New York, which she wasn’t. Besides, she knew he felt it as well. It was there, in his smile, in the sound of his laughter, but mostly in his eyes, a deeper shade of violet now and twice as intense when he looked at her.

“I didn’t realize cucumbers were more…anatomically correct.”

Her responding laughter was a tad too close to a nervous twitter. She set her glass aside. “Why are we having this conversation?”

He shrugged. “You started it, Doc.”

No, she didn’t. He did. “Let’s change the subject,” she suggested.

“Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“That you’d want to change the subject. I had the impression you wouldn’t mind discussing…anatomy.”

She stood and started clearing the bar with trembling fingers. “You take a lot for granted, Coach.” What did he expect her to do? Roll over on her back and yell, Take me now, stud?

“Chase.”

She turned to find him standing less than two feet away from her. That made her even more nervous since he blocked her only hope for an exit. “You take a lot for granted, Chase.”

He reached for her, but she pulled away before he could touch her, leaning back until the edge of the counter bit into her lower back.

“Do I?” he asked.

Her tactical temporary escape failed. Definitely not a smart move, because he inched closer, then leaned toward her. He planted his hands firmly on the edge of the counter, bracketing her within his strong tanned arms and the muscled wall of his chest. They weren’t even touching, but the charge between them was still powerfully electric.

By some miracle, she remembered to breathe, and all she got for her trouble was an intoxicating mix of freshly showered man and a hint of musk that teased her senses. “I’m not looking to get involved,” she told him, then wet her suddenly drier than dust lips with her tongue. “I was only being, uh, I was being neighborly.”

“Then why so nervous, Doc?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Why are you so close?”

He lifted one eyebrow and shrugged his wide shoulders. “I dunno. It’d be kinda hard to kiss you from across the room.”

“Kiss me?” The words tangled up in her vocal cords and came out sounding like a husky whisper filled with invitation.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, in that same sexy rumble that had her insides quivering with sweet anticipation.

Before she could tell him he was wasting his time, that she didn’t have the time to get involved, his tongue brushed lightly across her lips.

Before she could think of the words to protest what was going to be the most promising moment of sexual awakening, he swept inside and tasted her deeply.

Before she could even summon her lost common sense and stop his gentle assault on her mouth, she tangled her tongue with his.

Moaning softly, she straightened. Her breasts barely brushed against his chest, but the contact had enough spark for hard peaks to form and rasp enticingly against her sensible cotton sports bra. Unable to resist the honeyed temptation of his mouth moving so provocatively, so seductively over hers, she wreathed her arms around his neck and just enjoyed the thrill racing through her veins.

Before she became completely swept away by the toe-curling kiss, he lifted his head and firmly set her away from him. The grin he gave her was filled with enough arrogance to let her know he hadn’t missed one iota of her body’s response.

“Thanks for the meal, Doc,” he said, then turned and walked away.

Her breath came in short pants as she watched him cross the living room to the front door. How could he just walk away after igniting sparks like that? She might have responded like a feline who’d snuck out the back door and made it into the alley, but he hadn’t exactly been unaffected, either.

“Where are you going?” she asked against her better judgment.

He swung the door open, then stopped in the threshold to look over his shoulder at her. “You’ve got an early day tomorrow. I’ll take you to dinner after your shift.”

He stepped through the door without answering her question, or waiting for a response to his invitation that hovered close to an arrogant demand. He was gone. Just like that, she thought with a snap of her fingers. He tipped her world upside down then left her, alone and feeling achingly frustrated. From a kiss!

There was more. A whole lot more and it all zeroed in on her growing sexual attraction to the new guy in town.

HE’D VERY NEARLY BLOWN IT. God, he couldn’t believe he could be so careless. Not with an investigation as important as the Romine case. And especially not with a case as important to his continued employment with the Bureau.

He stood on the forty-yard line with Crawford and Harrison, each with their feet braced for impact, their backs to the sun and each holding a blocking dummy gripped tightly in their hands. A red Cougars ball cap helped to shield Chase’s eyes from the brightness of the evening sun, but nothing could alleviate the thick humidity, except maybe a good summer storm. Between the heat, humidity and thoughts of Dee, his concentration on the Cougars’ practice was no more effective than what he’d had on the investigation Saturday evening.

Dee hadn’t mentioned her schedule to him once throughout the time they’d spent together four nights ago, and he’d gone off feeling damned cocky just because she’d responded to him. He’d been lucky he hadn’t blown the whole operation. But he’d covered. He decided some distance would be in his favor so he tacked a note to her door the next afternoon, telling her something had come up and he’d have to give her a rain check on that meal he’d promised. Then after making certain all the surveillance equipment was in top working order, he’d taken off to a neighboring town to a motel for the night. It’d been a risky choice, but he didn’t think he had any other option. Obviously his instincts had paid off, because he hadn’t seen nor heard from Dee in the past four days. By the time they did meet up again, he suspected she’d probably have forgotten the incident. At least he hoped so.

He muttered a curse as he took a rough hit from Jimmy Sanders, a defensive lineman tipping the scales at two-twenty. “Watch it, Sanders,” he complained. “You put that head down again, I’m gonna put my cleat on your backside.”

Sanders spit out his mouthpiece. “Sorry, Coach.”

Chase braced himself for the hit by the next player. After the way Dee had been sending him more signals than a faulty traffic light, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel, or do for that matter. What was he supposed to do when she kissed him like she wanted him? Wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He was a good agent, even if he wasn’t above taking risks, but he doubted even the director could keep his hands, or his mouth, off someone as delightfully sensual as Dee.

She’d gotten to him. There was no other explanation, no other excuse. She’d gotten to him good and driven him practically insane with her pretty mouth and witty conversation. Every ounce of his strength had been forcefully summoned in order for him to walk away from her when all he’d wanted to do was take that kiss one step further, and another, then another until they were both too sated and exhausted to move. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been affected so intensely by a sweet, dewy mouth capable of drawing out secrets he’d never shared with another living soul. What was a guy supposed to do when a perfectly matched pair of breasts were pressing against his chest or slim hips were cradled within his own so unconsciously and so naturally?

“Sanders, get your head up,” he yelled at Jimmy, who was charging straight for Crawford.

The defensive lineman hit the pad, head down. Chase swore and dropped his blocking dummy. Snagging Sanders by the face mask, he pulled the player toward him. He managed to shout a few oaths common on the football field, then threatened Sanders with a seat on the junior varsity bench for the season.

The kid started to say something, but Chase didn’t hear him. From out of nowhere, he took a direct hit. And that was the last thing he remembered before his world went dark.

“THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’m fine.”

Dee offered Chase her best tolerant expression, the one she reserved for difficult patients, particularly the male population being as they were the ones more apt to complain about obeying doctor’s orders. Especially orders from a female doctor. Regardless of how great he kissed, Chase was a credit to his gender in the doctor/patient relationship area.

She slipped the otoscope back into the holder, before making a notation on the chart. “You were tackled, hit the ground and rendered unconscious.” She glanced up from the chart and graced him with a smile. “Be a good boy and let me do my job, Chase.”

He narrowed his gaze and glared at her from his seat on the edge of the exam table. “I’m fine.” The firmness of his voice held a determination that didn’t sway her in the least.

He probably was going to be perfectly fine, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. She never did when it came to her patients, and right now, Chase Bracken was her patient. “A CT scan will tell me if you’re fine or not. It’s just a precaution,” she added in the face of his deepening scowl.