Читать книгу Heated Rush - Leslie Kelly - Страница 8

“OWNER AND MANAGER OF Baby Daze. Saints preserve us, she runs a nursery school.”

Sean stared in disbelief at the small white business card in his hand. He hadn’t read it carefully last night when Annie Davis, his pretty “winner” had slipped it to him after the auction. Now, though, since he’d decided he couldn’t possibly wait until Saturday to see her again, and had dug it out searching for her phone number, he’d noticed what the woman did for a living.

Day care.

On Sean’s personal list of things to be avoided at all costs, babies were two steps below jealous husbands and three above yappy dogs that piddled themselves the moment you bent to pet them.

“And she works with them. On purpose.”

All the more reason for him to call the woman and tell her she’d been out of line insisting he spend an entire weekend with her—on a farm, for God’s sake—rather than just the dinner date he’d offered for the auction.

To be honest though, calling her to discuss the matter was only the excuse. Calling her was his main objective. He had thought of nothing else but the way she’d felt in his arms since they’d parted company last night.

But…babies?

He didn’t do that.

Something inside him forgot that fact, however, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in Annie Davis’s cell number. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. The little buggers usually took naps around this time.

He hoped.

When she answered on the third ring and he heard the crying in the background, he realized he’d guessed wrong.

“Yes?” she snapped, sounding out of breath. “Hello?”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’ve caught you at a bad time.”

“Sean?” she yelped, sounding shocked. “I mean, Mr. Murphy?”

“Sean’ll do.”

“It is you. Wow.”

Screech, whimper, yowl…He heard all of the above in the background as he said, “I should call back.”

“Probably. Yes. I mean, I don’t usually even answer this phone during the day, but I happened to have it in my pocket and heard it ringing. No, honey.”

Honey? “What?”

“Sorry. I’m holding a squirming bundle of male energy and he’s trying to bite my ear.”

He’d like to bite her ear. And he had a lot of male energy. Sean suddenly found himself envying that squirming child, though that didn’t, of course, mean he’d ever want to hold one himself. His younger half sister was perfectly capable of filling their ancestral home with little Murphys. He felt quite sure their father would be able to pay off any future husband to allow the tykes to carry on the family name.

“I, uh, didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“I figured we ought to talk about this weekend.”

She sucked in an audible breath, and he could almost feel her panic through the phone. “You are backing out.”

So pessimistic for such a sweet-faced young woman. “Of course I’m not backing out. I just want a little more information about what I’m up against. Other than cows.”

“You won’t be up against them.You won’t have to set foot anywhere near them. I didn’t mean that crack about the shoes. You won’t have to go anywhere near the milking barns. And we don’t have much other livestock except for a few horses. Do you like to ride? Oh, and there are some sheep, too, but they’ll be down in the pasture.”

Barn. Good God. And sheep? He’d seen enough of those creatures in the first twenty-one years of his life to last him until the end of time. Why had he agreed to do this again?

Her eyes, fool. Her eyes and her throat and her golden hair and her soft lips and her feminine body and her honesty and the incredible way she’d felt in his arms.

Well, all right then.

“Listen, things are kind of crazy here,” she said, sounding as if she was about to drop the phone even as she mumbled something to the baby. “Can you call me back after six?”

“Why don’t I pick you up after six so we can go have a drink somewhere.”

There was more yowling, plus a bit of tiny purring like a kitten being petted. He didn’t suspect that was coming from Annie, though he most definitely wouldn’t mind doing a little stroking.

As he’d expected, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head all night long. He’d tried to capture the memory of her smell, thought about the taste of her, had replayed their conversation in his mind, envisioned her pretty face, the pert nose, the amazing eyes. Not to mention the feminine body beneath the butter yellow silk.

Oh, yes, he’d absolutely like to touch her until she purred. Whenever and wherever she liked.

Feeling that way about a woman he barely knew—being so vulnerable to her and wanting her so badly after such a brief acquaintance—should have been enough to make him avoid her. Reason told him to stay away from her until he had to fulfill his promise.

Instead, here he stood, phone in hand, waiting to see if she’d agree to see him again tonight. Almost holding his breath, unsure about her, as he’d never been about a woman.

Sean wasn’t accustomed to being vulnerable to anyone. He never let himself get involved with anyone who didn’t know the score and the rules of the game up front.

Those types of relationships he understood. Real ones hadn’t been part of his vocabulary for a very long time.

A real one though, was the only type that could possibly happen with someone like Annie Davis. But that couldn’t coexist with who he was, with what he did.

He wasn’t usually a selfish enough bastard to take a chance, anyway, and damn the consequences. So why was he so willing to do it now? To risk hurting her—or himself—by getting personally involved with a normal, attractive woman who would never understand the choices he’d made in his life?

He didn’t know. He just knew he was helpless to resist. He was so anxious to see her, he almost held his breath waiting for her to answer.

Finally, she spoke. “It’s probably a good idea for us to get together and talk.” She hesitated for a second before adding, “I did back you into a corner about this trip.”

“True.”

“Sorry.” Then, sounding disgruntled, she admitted, “Well, no, I’m not really sorry. I needed you, you see.”

Needed him. Not just wanted. Why the word should make Sean’s pulse accelerate, he had no idea. But indeed it did.

Women were always wanting him. But needing? That was different. And at this point in his life, he welcomed anything different.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, “but I have a feeling you’ll paint me quite a picture tonight.”

“Yes. I will. Let’s meet somewhere, okay? Then I’ll lay it all out for you and you can tell me whether or not you’ll really go through with it.”

Conceding the single-woman-safety-clause that required them to meet for their first date, instead of him picking her up, he murmured his agreement and waited while she named the place. Then he added, “You should know, Annie, I don’t think there’s much you could say that would make me give up the chance to spend a weekend with you. Cows and sheep notwithstanding.”

He’d go through a lot for the chance to explore the attraction that had been so strong between them. Not to mention, finding out just how much she needed him.

“You might want to wait until you hear what you’re in for before you say that.”

“All right, then. Tonight, you can tell me what I’m in for and we’ll go from there.”

And with any luck, what he was in for included a few highly sensual moments with Annie.

ANNIE HAD NO intention of telling Sean Murphy the whole story. She’d tell him enough—in fact, most of it. She’d make it clear that she couldn’t show up at the family party without a man on her arm, and she’d even try to explain why. Though, honestly, until he met her family, he probably wouldn’t understand how serious the situation was.

She would not, however, go into details on the whole Blake-the-snake thing. Because that episode in her life was so humiliating, she couldn’t bring herself to speak about it.

Thankfully, only Tara had any idea that Annie had been dating the father of one of the kids from the center. That was a blessing, because she’d been breaking her own rule against fraternizing with the clients.

Annie knew from experience that some young, pretty day care workers could easily get swept away by the handsome, wealthy dads who occasionally picked up the children. At the first child care center she’d worked at in Chicago, one of her coworkers had landed in the middle of a nasty divorce scandal that had nearly destroyed the reputation of the business. So the No Fraternization policy had been a top-ten rule when she’d buried herself in debt in order to open her own place three years ago.

And she’d broken it.

That she’d done it unwittingly was not a good enough excuse. She should have known better, should have seen through Blake’s charm and his lies.

He’d just been so damned convincing and his lifestyle so convenient a backup to his story. His wife, who, Annie later learned, was an E.R. nurse with a demanding schedule, had never once visited the center. Not for an initial interview, not for a drop-off, a pickup or even one of the children’s programs. So it had been easy to believe Blake when he said his wife had divorced him and he was raising his precious two-year-old son alone.

Imagine Annie’s surprise when one month ago—six weeks after Blake had started bringing the boy to Baby Daze—his not-so-ex-wife had confronted Annie in her own office, accusing her of sleeping with her husband. God, of all the moments in her life she’d like to forget, that was the worst. Thankfully, it had been late in the day. No other parents had been around and all her staff had gone home, except Tara.

Beyond that, the only saving grace was that she’d been able to truthfully deny having had sex with Blake. It was small comfort, considering they had been dating and had shared certain intimacies. But it was something.

“Enough,” she whispered, the memories making her head ache. Forcing the awful images out of her head, she tried to focus on exactly what she’d say to Sean, who should be showing up at the bar any minute. She’d arrived at five-fifty, so anxious about the meeting that she’d actually taken off from work early, leaving her assistant manager in charge of shutting the center down.

It was very unlike her. But then, so was blowing an absolute fortune—including the bulk of her savings account—on one date with a stranger.

“Not just one date,” she reminded herself. The price she’d paid would prove well worth it if Sean could help her keep her family from learning the truth about Annie’s rather sordid love life. As a bonus, it should also keep them off her back for another few months about her true single status.

“Talking to yourself?”

Wondering if she’d broken a hundred mirrors over the past seven years to inspire such bad luck, she glanced up to see Sean Murphy standing beside her table. God, could this meeting have started off any worse? He’d caught her muttering to herself as she nursed a glass of wine in a dark corner of a shadowy bar.

Plus, oh, joy, she’d just noticed that her bright blue Baby Daze uniform shirt had what appeared to be a spit-up stain on the sleeve and a smear of red finger paint on the hem. Pathetic.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” He looked amused, as if he’d read her thoughts.

He’d probably read her next one, too, as she studied him, top to bottom, wondering how on earth she was going to convince anyone she’d landed someone this good-looking. Guys like Sean didn’t know places like Green Springs existed, and they most assuredly never hooked up with girls from them.

That fact was made more obvious by his appearance. Even without his evening wear, he still looked too hot for her, no matter what his resume said about his profession. Although, in terms of his clothes, he couldn’t look much more different than he had last night.

Sean wore soft, faded jeans that clung to his lean hips and rode every lump and angle of his body. Some lumps were incredibly obvious, given her position, seated and looking almost directly at his middle.

Lord have mercy, could the man fill out a pair of jeans. She shifted slightly on the hard wooden bench, suddenly very aware of the pressure against her bottom and her thighs. And the very tender spot between them.

Taking in a slow, shaky breath, she forced herself to lift her eyes, noting the crisp white dress shirt. It was unbuttoned at the throat and folded up at the sleeves to reveal thickly flexing forearms. They were roped with muscle, lightly covered with dark, wiry hair, hinting at strength and power that hadn’t been as obvious beneath the tuxedo. She imagined he’d have to be powerfully built, if he spent most of his time responding to accident scenes, saving people’s lives.

Tonight he seemed the antithesis of the tux-wearing sophisticate she’d met at the auction, but the attitude, the half smile, the gleam in his eyes revealed the innately sexy, confident man inside. No matter what he was wearing.

She grabbed her wineglass and sipped deeply as he sat down across from her.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I don’t often get ‘round to this area when I’m in Chicago.”

Her brow went up. “You don’t live here?”

“Not usually.”

Interesting answer.

“Where do you live? Usually.”

He waved a noncommittal hand in the air, evading a question that most people would consider extremely simple. The reaction was confirmed by his words. “That’s complicated.”

“For escaped cons on the run, maybe. Not normal people.”

“I’m not exactly normal people.”

Undoubtedly.

“But my mailing address doesn’t really matter, does it? All that matters is that I’ll be around this weekend.”

“Just this weekend…” she murmured, before she could think better of it.

Sean nodded once. Though his voice remained friendly, his smile diminished the tiniest bit. “Yes, Annie. One weekend. I’ll be leaving Chicago on Monday.”

Annie heard what he was saying, and what he wasn’t. She had to give the man credit—at least he wasn’t making empty promises. He was laying it out on the table, what he could offer her, what she might expect from him. His terms.

He didn’t say “Take it or leave it.” He didn’t have to.

She’d take it. How much of it, she wasn’t sure yet. But, at least, she knew the rules going in and could decide whether or not that weekend would end at her front door when they returned from her family’s place, on Sunday afternoon.

Or in her bed, much later that night.

“I understand,” she finally replied, forcing herself to sound casual, completely unaffected by the unspoken agreement they’d just made. “Through this weekend.”

“Okay,” he said, though, surprisingly, he didn’t sound entirely comfortable about her ready agreement. “Now we have to decide how we’re going to spend it.”

They were going to spend it perpetrating a fraud. But that seemed a little too honest to start out the conversation.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“That’s not complicated. I have an apartment in Lincoln Park. Not far from my day care center.”

“And you live alone? No roommates?”

She knew he was trying to get more information, possibly even open the door to discuss her romantic past. But no way was she going there. “Just me and Wally.”

His jaw stiffened. “Who’s Wally?”

“My cat,” she explained with a soft laugh. Remembering something she hadn’t cleared with him, Annie added, “He’ll be coming with us on Saturday. I hope that’s all right.”

“I’m allergic.”

Oh, no.

“Kidding,” he said, holding a hand up, palm out, as he saw her panic. “Lord, girl, but you’re easy to get a rise out of.”

“I warned you about that catfish,” she said, unable to keep herself from laughing. He was…charming, that was all. Even when he was trying to get her back up, he was entirely charming. Easy to talk to, amusing, flirtatious but also courteous, his teasing sounding even more lighthearted with his lyrical accent.

She’d never met another man like him. And she wanted him with a kind of desperation that she’d never experienced before. The lust bubbling up inside her almost made her shake with its intensity.

Lust. She, little Annie Davis, whose brothers had put out a bounty on any guy who dared even think about relieving her of her virginity in high school, was seriously in lust.

The things she wanted to do with this man probably hadn’t even entered the heated imaginations of the guys she’d gone to school with.

“Maybe I should meet Wally before we’re stuck in a car together for a few hours on Saturday.” The mischief in his smile negated the seriousness of his suggestion. “Perhaps you ought to invite me to come home with you.”

Oh, yeah, that’d be a great idea. Once she got him inside and shut the door, she’d immediately try to come up with some excuse to tear her clothes off—like, maybe because she got splashed with acid or something. And then she’d find a reason to leap naked into his arms.

That would be easy…she could just tell him the truth. She was so damned attracted to him, she couldn’t help herself.

Too soon. Annie never acted on instant attraction. That had saved her ass with Blake. So she wasn’t about to question her own judgment now by leaping into this man’s bed within twenty-four hours of meeting him.

This Sunday, though? Within six days? Well, she’d give it some serious thought.

Not even bothering to answer his question about coming home with her, she asked, “Want a drink?”

He nodded, letting her change the subject. Signaling the waitress, he ordered a pint, which sounded perfect coming out of his Irish mouth.

His very kissable Irish mouth.

Just the thought of the kisses they’d shared last night was enough to make her want to sink low in her seat and relive it in her mind. Then fantasize about the next one.

“You’re starin’, Annie,” he said, his voice silky smooth.

Shaking her head quickly, Annie mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you wear your every thought on your face?” He definitely seemed capable of reading her mind. “You’ve not got a deceptive bone in that beautiful body.”

Ignoring the flash of pleasure shooting through her so-not-beautiful body, she went for bravado, knowing she was about as good at bluffing as Wally would ever be at roller-skating. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He grinned, but didn’t call her on the lie, since his drink was just being delivered. Drawing a deep sip, he winced as he lowered the glass to the table.

“Not good?”

“It loses its flavor with every mile it’s shipped away from Dublin, and the bartender drew it far too quickly.”

“So you are from Ireland. Not just of Irish descent.”

“I was born in San Francisco, actually. My mother’s American. But after their divorce, when I was just a tot, my father took me back to Ireland.” Though his tone remained easy, his body had stiffened. She understood why when he added, “And that’s as much as we’re going to talk about that.”

“Sorry,” she said, realizing the subject was a touchy one.

Maybe Sean had family issues, too. She couldn’t be the only person to come from a big, obnoxious, pushy clan. Even if it sometimes felt that way, given the reactions of many of her friends here in Chicago. They generally listened with fond amusement to the stories of her childhood, then treated her like she was the only refugee from the planet of 1950s Small-Town Hell.

Annie reached for the small bowl of nuts the waitress had deposited on their table, carefully picking one up and lifting it to her mouth. “I guess you’d like to know about the weekend now.”

“I would.”

“Then you can decide if you want to back out.”

“I will not. I told you last night I’d accompany you.”

“But I thought we were meeting so I could convince you.”

He reached across the table and stroked the back of her hand with his warm fingertips. “We’re meeting because I couldn’t stand to wait four more days to see you again.”

Wow. Talk about words going straight from one person’s mouth to another person’s heart. Or stomach. Or anywhere else…. Annie’s thighs clenched below the table, and she scooched her legs together, suddenly very aware of the tight seam of her pants.

Because the words—plus that touch, and the intimate look in his eye—had definitely landed there.

“Since we’re here, however, you might as well fill me in.” Smiling slightly, he averted his gaze and let go of her hand. “Though, I think I might be able to venture a guess.”

“Oh, really?” Her tone held unspoken challenge.

He tilted his head, thinking about it. “It’s your highschool reunion and you’re the last unmarried prom princess?”

She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t the prom princess type.”

More the dairy princess. But she didn’t want to mention the cows again until it was absolutely necessary.

Sean tried again. “Your ex-boyfriend’s getting married and you can’t stand to show up alone?”

“Not even close,” she said. “My only ex-boyfriend back in my old hometown can’t get married legally, at least not in this state. Though he and his partner seem very happy anyway.”