Читать книгу Into the Fire - Leslie Kelly - Страница 8

IT WAS the thong panties that sent Nate’s chair tipping over into the pool. He was no voyeur, but, damn, a gorgeous blonde jumping on a trampoline flashing him a sweet glimpse of her curvy backside with every bounce? What red-blooded American man would be able to resist that? He sure hadn’t. So he’d leaned just a little too far and gone for an unexpected swim.

The chilly water shocked him. If it hadn’t been for the chair hitting him in the head, he would likely have leaped right back out. But the plastic arm of the lounger caught him in the temple, and for a moment or two, he experienced severe disorientation. All he knew was he was in the pool, and a chair and a padded cushion, growing heavier by the second as it soaked up water, were blocking him from the air above.

Before he could move to save himself, someone was yanking him by the arm, pulling him from under the obstacle. When he broke through the surface, Nate sucked in a deep, greedy breath. His rescuer threw an arm across his shoulders and towed him, on his back, to the side of the pool.

When they reached the side, he flung his arm over the pool’s edge, as did she. She finally stopped panting long enough to look him in the face.

The blonde. The gorgeous blonde with the peekaboo panties was treading water opposite him. She’d leaped into the pool to save him, not even stopping to consider her dress, which clung to her skin like shiny black Saran wrap. She was an absolute mess. Her sopping hair drooped against her head, sending rivulets of water running down her temples. Her smeared makeup had left black streaks under her eyes. She looked like a wet raccoon. A gorgeous wet raccoon.

Finally noticing his stare, her eyes widened, flashing with something. Confusion? Recognition? He didn’t know, couldn’t place it, but he saw something change in her expression. She looked out of sorts, confused, perhaps even a little excited. Not surprising given what had just happened. But Nate had a feeling there was more to it than that.

Finally she asked, “Are you okay?”

In spite of the pounding in his head, Nate responded flirtatiously. “I think I might need mouth to mouth.”

She frowned. “You’re talking. I suspect you’re breathing.”

He puffed out his cheeks, holding his breath.

She rolled her eyes. “Lame.”

“Okay. I give up. I’m fine, thanks to you. I was getting disoriented under the water.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the chair, which still floated nearby. As he watched, the cloth-covered cushion sank, disappearing beneath the surface, probably due to the weight of the water. It descended until it rested on the bottom of the pool—right where he might have ended up, had the blow to his head been much harder.

Good grief, he could have drowned! The thought sobered him, sending any flirtatious thoughts out of his mind. “You really might have saved my life. Thank you very much.”

He stared into her eyes, which were a fine pale blue that picked up the light reflected on the shimmering surface of the water. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in audible gasps, much like his as they both recovered from the adrenaline rush of his accident.

Close up, she was every bit as enticing, though perhaps in a different way, than she’d been from a distance. Her features were softer, sweeter than he’d expected, given her killer figure. Her heart-shaped face was creamy smooth, and beneath the smeared makeup he could see the tiniest freckles dotting her nose. She looked younger than he’d thought. Definitely not as put together, calm and cool as she’d appeared when she entered the room. Yet the innocent blue eyes and freckles definitely suited the sprite who’d climbed onto the trampoline.

She stared back, looking as though she recognized him. Nate nearly muttered a curse. He waited, wondering if she’d prove to be fan or foe, if she’d coo that she’d read all his articles or tell him to grow up and get a real job.

She did neither. Instead, she sighed, again seeming to be disappointed for some reason, and said, “I didn’t see you struggling under the water so I thought you were unconscious.”

“The chair hit me in the head.”

When she immediately lifted a hand to check his brow, he said, “I’m fine. It just took me a minute to get my bearings.”

She pushed his hair back, and the touch of her hand made most logical thought disappear from his brain. Her gesture was gentle, concerned, but the feel of her skin on his felt loaded with additional sensation.

“A minute’s a long time to figure out you’re underwater.” She drew her hand away, looking at her fingers in confusion, as if she, too, had felt something unusual where flesh had met flesh.

“You’re right. Maybe it wasn’t a full minute,” he replied softly.

“It was more like twenty seconds.”

“Okay. But twenty seconds too long. I was starting to see my life flash before my eyes.”

She raised a skeptical brow. “Really?”

“Well, no, not really, but I did have the sudden thought that I need to call my mother.”

“Your mother?”

“To thank her for putting me in swimming lessons, and to wish her a happy birthday.”

“You didn’t swim,” she told him.

“I would have. Ten more seconds, tops. Maybe fifteen. Probably. But I still owe you my life. Thanks again.”

She started chuckling. “Do you always talk so fast?”

“Always. In my family, if you don’t talk fast, you never get a word in edgewise.”

“Is it really your mom’s birthday today?”

“No. It’s Monday. But while I was under there, I realized if I drowned three days before her birthday, that’d probably ruin the occasion and she’d never forgive me.”

This time she laughed out loud. “You do realize this isn’t exactly a typical conversation to be having while treading water, fully dressed, in someone else’s swimming pool,” she said, her eyes alight with amusement.

“Better than the party.”

“Yes, I saw you there earlier,” she admitted, staring at him intently. “Why on earth did you come here?”

“To hide out,” he said, greatly relieved that when she’d recognized him a few minutes ago, it had been from the party and not from his work at Men’s World. If she didn’t know him, didn’t know his name, maybe she would talk to him like the man he really was, not the man he appeared to be in print.

She hadn’t said anything, so he continued. “I couldn’t take another minute of jovial conversation with people who’d stab me in the back in a second to climb up one more rung of the publishing ladder.”

She nodded slowly, obviously understanding, possibly even agreeing. “Okay, I can buy that one. So you were just sitting here by the pool and you accidentally tipped your chair in?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, great, you were watching me, right? That’s what happened. You were playing Mr. Peeping Tom and you tipped yourself right into the pool where you could have drowned. All to get a glimpse of a woman’s underwear.”

“Well, come on, you gotta admit, that is some pretty fine underwear.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I suppose you’re an underwear expert?”

“No, not really.” He grinned. “Frankly, I prefer boxers to thongs. I’ve always thought thongs would be terribly uncomfortable. But you look like you do okay in yours, so maybe I’ll try them sometime.”

Nate almost regretted baiting her, but she had certainly provided the opening. Now, would she haul herself out of the pool and stalk away in a huff? Or did she have a real sense of humor to go with the killer curves?

Then he saw it. A heartbreakingly gorgeous grin curled her lips, her eyes sparkled, and she chuckled. He heard his own sigh of relief.

Beautiful. Sense of humor. And she’d saved his life. Could things get any better?

LACEY DIDN’T LIKE flirtatious men. Okay, well, that wasn’t quite true. She liked Raul, and heaven knew he loved to flirt. But Raul was different. As strange as it seemed, given his reputation with women, she considered him safe. Because he was her brother’s age…and her best friend.

This man, however, was far from safe. Gorgeous, sexy strangers with dimpled smiles who flirted and made her heart leap and her thighs quiver were definitely not safe.

She’d been shocked when she realized he was the man who’d caught her attention at the party. Within a few minutes she’d realized Raul had been messing with her—this guy was no bonehead. He was sexy, charming and gorgeous. She should have run for cover as soon as he made the mouth-to-mouth comment. Because that had put all kinds of interesting images in her mind!

Instead she continued to hold onto the side of the pool, wearing her sodden dress, which would probably never be free of the scent of chlorine, grinning at the mental picture of him in a thong. “I know of a site online that sells men’s thongs.”

“And you would know this because…”

“Because I bought a pair for a friend as a gag gift last year.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A friend?”

“A female friend who was getting married. She tells me if it hadn’t been for the yellow duck on the front, she might have been able to talk her husband into wearing them during their honeymoon.”

“I’m with him on that one.”

“I suppose you’d prefer your basic black.”

“It works so well for you. I’ll follow your example.”

Lacey should have felt like sinking beneath the water at the realization that this man really had been sitting here watching her on the trampoline. But she laughed again instead. “So do you make a habit out of sneaking peeks at strange women’s underwear?”

“You don’t seem strange. At least no stranger than anyone else at tonight’s gala,” he said earnestly. “Do you make a habit out of breaking into other people’s gyms during parties?”

“I was hiding out, like you,” she admitted. “I hate cocktail parties.”

“Me, too. Smiles on the lips, never in the eyes. Superficial conversations. Everybody on the make trying to find someone to hook up with who they won’t have to bump into at work the next week.”

He sounded sincere, which surprised Lacey. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

“I’d much rather be treading water in a soaking tuxedo.”

“Which is hopefully not rented.”

“It is.”

“I don’t think you’re going to get your deposit back.”

“Maybe I’ll buy it. This might prove to be my lucky suit.” Though his tone remained flirtatious, his eyes held a note of serious intensity.

He had beautiful eyes. Green with circles of gold at the center that Lacey somehow felt she could get lost in. They were rimmed by thick black lashes that were unfairly long for a man. And his mouth—that gorgeous, smiling mouth she’d fantasized about after seeing him across the room at the party—was every bit as intriguing close up.

Lacey almost wished she were a different type of person. The type of person who could lean forward and kiss a sexy stranger, because if she didn’t find out what his lips tasted like soon, she was going to lose her mind.

She wasn’t that type of person, however. She was responsible and conservative, restrained and professional. Any lapses with trampolines, thong panties or to-die-for strangers with amazing lips were genetic flukes, not the real her.

Were they?

“I guess we ought to get out and dry off,” she said, hearing a note of regret in her voice. “I imagine I’ve already been missed. I don’t exactly know how I’m going to get out of this one.”

“Can’t you just slip out, go home without saying anything?” He pulled himself out of the pool, then turned to lend her a hand, easily hoisting her up to stand in front of him on the pool deck.

Before she could reply, she watched as he dropped his gaze to her bare shoulders, no longer covered by the straps of her dress, which had loosened and fallen down her arms. She breathed deeply. His eyes followed the movement of her skin, studying her throat, then moved down to the curves of her breasts. Her heart picked up its pace, beating wildly inside her as this man touched every inch of her body with nothing but his heavy-lidded stare.

She knew she looked a hideous mess. She also knew he wanted her. Not having had much experience with men, Lacey couldn’t really say how she could be so certain. Perhaps it was the furrow in his brow, the way his chest moved as his breaths deepened. The way his tightly coiled body radiated heat and energy so powerful she almost felt it snapping across the scant inches separating them.

But he never touched her.

Finally, Lacey pulled her thoughts together, ordered her pulse to stop racing and took a quick step away from him. He shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind, and she knew he’d been as affected as she by the charged moment.

“No, I can’t just leave,” she said, finally answering his question. “It’s complicated.” She didn’t want complicated right now. For the past several minutes, since she’d leaped into the pool after a stranger, she’d felt uncomplicated pleasure. Sharing laughter and heated glances with a gorgeous man was much better than worrying about J.T.’s plans for the evening.

His plans certainly weren’t going to go over very well if she showed up wearing a soaking wet cocktail dress. How could he officially introduce her to Baltimore society and the magazine executives when she looked like a drowned rat?

“I think I’m going to need to call a friend for help.”

“I should do the same thing. Do you happen to have a cell phone? Mine’s a little wet.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a phone and a small tape recorder, both of which dripped water.

“There’s a phone over there by the door,” she said. “There’s also a bathroom on the other side of the trampoline. You call first. I’m going to try to do something about the way I look.”

“You’re beyond beautiful,” he said with a wistful smile. “Thanks again for saving my life.” He accompanied the comment with a tender brush of his fingers against her brow as he tucked her hair behind her ear. Nothing else. Just a gentle touch, and she thought her legs were going to shake apart, sending her back into the water.

“You’re welcome.” She finally managed to whisper the words on a slowly exhaled breath.

When he turned away and walked toward the phone, she took a few seconds to collect herself. What was it about the man that so intrigued her? His looks were divine, of course, but there was more than that. Perhaps at the party it had been the self-assurance, the appearance of a man totally comfortable in his own skin, that had attracted her attention. A man who could fit in anywhere, knew where he belonged in his world. Unlike Lacey, who was never quite sure where she was supposed to be in life. But now, after their strange meeting in the pool, it was more than fascination. She found herself wanting to talk to him, to hear his deep voice, to see those lips curl up into a smile meant only for her.

Somehow, Lacey found the strength to get her legs moving again, and she headed straight for the bathroom, leaving him to use the phone in privacy. She definitely needed a minute alone to regain her composure.

When she shut the bathroom door behind her, flipped on the light and saw herself in the mirror, she let out a yelp of dismay. Her wet hair stuck to her scalp like a swim cap. Her makeup was mostly gone, and what was left had shifted around so her mascara was on her cheeks and her lipstick on her chin. One of her pretty gold earrings was missing, and if she wasn’t mistaken, that was a streak of black dye from her dress staining one shoulder.

Beyond beautiful, he’d called her. Beyond repair was more like it.

AFTER his stunning rescuer disappeared into the bathroom, Nate spent about thirty seconds wishing he’d gone ahead and kissed her the way he’d been dying to as they stood by the pool. If there had been only attraction between them, he might have done it. But there had been more than attraction.

He was seriously interested in her. Interested and intrigued, charmed and amused, and he didn’t even know her name! He intended to remedy that, but not right away. He still wasn’t ready for the introduction stage. If she was at a party at J.T.’s house, then she probably knew the name Nate Logan. He didn’t want any preconceptions to interfere with what might prove to be the start of something special.

Ridiculous, really, to think in those terms about a woman he didn’t know. But there had been something magical about her from the moment she’d entered the room. It wasn’t just her underwear, though that, of course, had been very special, too. He couldn’t put his finger on what so intrigued him about her. The pale blue eyes shining with an innate sense of humor? The light dusting of freckles on her nose, which probably drove her crazy but made him want to lean over to kiss every single one? He didn’t know yet, but he planned to find out.

He reached for the phone, then dialed Raul’s cell phone number. When the other man answered, Nate could hear the voices and tinkling glasses in the background, meaning Raul was still at the party. He gave him a slightly abridged version of what had happened, not mentioning his blond rescuer. Or the trampoline. And especially not the black thong panties.

“You mean, you tripped and fell into the pool and now you’re hiding out in the gym in a soaking wet tuxedo?”

Nate tried not to take offense at the laughter in the other man’s voice. “Would you please spread the word that I was called away on an emergency and I’ll try to get back in an hour? I should have enough time to get out of here, race home, change and come back. Okay?”

After Raul agreed, Nate hung up and waited for the woman to come out of the bathroom. He tugged off the hated bow tie, which was nearly choking him now that it was tight and wet, and dropped it and his jacket on the floor. Then he kicked off his ruined shoes and socks. When she still hadn’t emerged, he muttered, “To hell with it,” and started to yank off his white dress shirt. She chose to come out just as he’d pulled the shirt off his shoulders.

The look in her eyes made him glad he worked out.

She froze in the open doorway, her mouth opening slowly but no sound coming out. Her hand rose to her neck, her index finger resting on the sexy spot right in the hollow of her throat. The same spot he’d fantasized about kissing minutes earlier by the pool.

She wore a white terry-cloth bathrobe, and her face was clean, washed free of makeup. The damp golden hair was combed in a sleek wave to brush her shoulders. He couldn’t resist looking down the rest of her, at the slim legs and delicate bare feet revealed by the robe. She’d been gorgeous in the black dress. Now, wearing absolutely nothing but the robe—he somehow imagined she’d shed the minuscule underclothes, which had to have been soaking wet—she was deadly.

When he finally lifted his gaze to her face, he noticed her attention still fixed somewhere around his collarbone. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes off his chest, at least until he dropped the shirt entirely. Then she moved her stare to his shoulders. She did absolutely nothing but look, and he reacted as if they’d shared a passionate embrace. The woman’s covetous eyes had brought about a strong reaction below his waist. Very strong. Very pressing.

And probably very damn obvious.

“Uh, you can have…” she stuttered.

A hot amazing night with you?

“That is,” she continued awkwardly, “feel free to take…”

You home with me?

“The bathroom. It’s all yours,” she finally said as she stepped into the gym and turned her back to him.

“Sure,” he muttered. “And I’m finished with the phone.”

He somehow refrained from touching her as he walked past her into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, wondering how the sight of her, a woman he’d known for less than an hour, could reduce him to one large walking case of need. Those eyes, that smile, those pretty feet and delicately boned ankles—she had aroused him more than any other woman had in his lifetime.

When he’d regained control of himself, he stripped off the rest of his wet clothes and toweled off. The towel he’d grabbed from a rack was damp, and as he used it, he caught a scent of something sweet and flowery, like the smell of his mother’s roses that grew on a trellis along the back porch of his parents’ home in West Virginia.

Her perfume. Her scent filled his head, and he lifted the towel to his face to breathe it in. Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he dropped the towel and glanced into the mirror. Had the blow to his head made him utterly delusional? When he saw the trickle of blood dripping from his hairline, he thought maybe it had.

Hanging in a bathroom closet were several of those white terry-cloth robes, like the one she wore. He grabbed one and threw it on to cover his naked body, then opened the door. “Uh, do you think there’s a medicine cabinet or something around here?”

She stood right outside the door, obviously finished with her phone call. “Yes, there is, in the linen closet. Why?”

“I think I need to bandage this.”

When she saw the blood dripping down his face, she gasped and ordered him into the bathroom. “Sit!” she said, pushing him toward a vanity stool.

“I can take care of it, if you could help me find the bandages.”

“Good grief, why didn’t you tell me? Looks like the chair hit you right above the temple and broke the skin.”

“I didn’t realize it was bleeding.”

She stepped closer, leaning down to push his hair back and look at his scalp. He closed his eyes as she nudged his legs apart with her own and moved to stand between them. When she leaned closer, so close he could see a tiny freckle on the top curve of one creamy breast, he couldn’t contain a groan.

“Am I hurting you?”

You’re killing me!

“Not a bit.”

“Can I touch it? I promise to be gentle.”

Touch it? Lady, just shoot me and put me out of my misery.

“I trust you.” He bit the words out.

She took a wet facecloth and brushed it over his cut.

“Ow,” he said with a wince.

“Baby,” she teased. “It’s tiny.”

“It hurts.”

“Big tough man.” She looked down, obviously to make sure he was kidding and she hadn’t really hurt him.

Nate couldn’t resist. “I think a kiss would make it better.”

“Sorry, I’m not kissing your bloody head.”

“I’ll settle for a kiss somewhere else,” he said with a chuckle.

“Somewhere else? Okay. Constitution Hall,” she said dryly. “Five years from Sunday.”

“It’s a date.”

Nate waited patiently while she carefully cleaned his cut, then covered it with some ointment. Every brush of her fingers heightened his awareness. Every time she moved, his senses roared to life. Her scent filled his brain. He memorized the shape of her neck, the curve of her collarbone.

While she helped him, they talked about the party, about the publishing industry, about silly things like thong underwear and swimming with clothes on. He adored the sound of her laughter and used every bit of willpower he had to resist pulling her onto his lap to thoroughly kiss her smiling lips.

At one point, she leaned over and grabbed a small pair of scissors out of the medicine chest on the counter, not noticing, perhaps, that her robe slipped off one shoulder. Nate’s heart rate kicked up. He took a deep breath, wanting to reach out and touch her skin with the tip of his index finger. Only that. Just to see if she felt as soft as she looked.

When she turned her attention to him, she obviously saw his interest. She flushed, her face turning a charming pink. Then she casually tugged the robe up and cinched the belt tighter.

“So, you never told me why you felt the need to hide out from J.T.’s party,” Nate said, trying to break the heavy, charged silence in the bathroom.

She shrugged. “I guess I felt the same way you did. Superficial people. All ambitious. All on the prowl.”

She fell silent, and Nate noticed her hand shaking as she bandaged his cut with some gauze and medical tape. “You okay?”

“I’m wondering how long I can be gone without attracting attention. My friend is going to go to my apartment to get me something else to wear. I can’t just disappear.”

“Right. It’s complicated,” he said, remembering her earlier comment.

“Exactly.”

“Complicated for you? Or for someone else?”

She stepped away from him, from between his legs, and busied herself putting away the medical supplies. “Several someone elses, as a matter of fact,” she admitted.

Nate heard a quiver in her voice and noticed her eyes were shiny and bright. “Hey, are you okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. It’s not you. It’s tonight, this party.” She paused. “J.T.”

Nate snorted. “You know the old reprobate personally, do you?”

She paused, her eyes widening with surprise. “You know him too?”

Nate shrugged. “As much as I want to. Has he been bothering you? Is that what’s going on?”

A rueful smile spread across her face. “He’s bothered me. Not in the way you think.” Then she shook her head and turned to put away the medicine kit. She took her time about it, peering intently at something on the shelf of the linen closet with her back to him. Nate saw her take something off the shelf and slip it into the oversize pocket of her robe before she closed the closet door.

When she turned, her eyes were bright and sparkling. She bit the corner of her lip, suddenly looking both mischievous and nervous. Nate considered asking her if she’d just stolen something from J.T. Birmingham’s bathroom, wondering if the superrich used some exotic type of toothpaste, but she distracted him by pointing to his robe.

“So is someone bringing you some clothes?”

“No,” Nate admitted as he stood and followed her out of the bathroom. Some of the forced intimacy caused by their close proximity in the bathroom evaporated in the cavernous gym area. “I planned to run home to my apartment to change. Unfortunately, while I was undressing I realized my keys are no longer in the pocket of my wet pants. I imagine they’re somewhere at the bottom of the pool, meaning I take another swim or I come up with another way to get some clothes.”

“Could you get someone to go by your place and pick something up for you?”

“Yeah, I probably could. My neighbor keeps a spare key for me, so I could call and ask him to let someone in,” he replied. “In the meantime, I guess we both hide out here.” He walked to the trampoline and leaned against its edge. “So have you got all the jumping out of your system?”

“I think so.”

“It looked like fun,” he said, trying to tempt her.

“Help yourself,” she said. “I promise not to peek at your underwear.”

He contemplated telling her he wasn’t wearing any, but didn’t think it wise.

“So, why do you dislike J.T.?” she asked as she walked over and sat on the bench of a weight-lifting machine.

Since there was nowhere else to sit unless they moved to the pool area, Nate went ahead and hopped onto the edge of the trampoline, sitting on the padded springs. “I don’t dislike him. He’s a heck of a businessman. But I see him for what he is.”

“That being?”

“I don’t know. What do you call a man in his sixties whose new fourth wife is less than half his age? Plus he still manages to hit on any attractive single woman he meets.” Nate sighed in disgust. “My sister came in to the office to visit last month. She was holding her one-year-old baby, and J.T. still flirted with her nonstop.”

“Some women find him charming.”

He snorted. “Maybe his bank account. Believe me, if I had his money, there are plenty of things I’d do with it other than invest it in future alimony payments.”

“Like?”

“I dunno. Feed the hungry? Help inner-city moms pay for day care?”

“How politically correct,” she said, her dry tone displaying her skepticism.

He took no offense. She didn’t know him, after all. Why should she believe he had any interest in social issues? “Okay, then I guess I’d buy a private island.”

She grinned, stood and walked over to stand beside the trampoline. “Can I join you?”

“On my island?” He gave her a playful smile and gestured to the black fabric surface. “Please do.”

He held out a hand to help her climb up. Forcing himself to look away, he deliberately tried not to notice when her robe gapped open again, displaying several long inches of pale, smooth thigh.

“And what would you do on this island?” she asked.

He slid back, pulling her with him until they both sat on the surface of the trampoline. Stretching out to lie on his back, he put his hands behind his head and looked at the ceiling. “I’d ban cocktail parties.”

“Good start,” she conceded as she stretched out to lie beside him. “What else would you ban in your kingdom?”

“Bow ties. Tuxedos.”

“I think tuxedos are very sexy,” she murmured.

Nate glanced over to find her staring innocently at the ceiling, as if she hadn’t just said something blatantly flirtatious. Or perhaps she hadn’t. Maybe he’d misread her.

He hoped not.

“Can you ban control-top panty hose, too? And size-one cover models who make the rest of us look fat?”

“You got it. And self-help books. No Mars and Venus crap allowed in the libraries on my island.”

“You don’t care for relationship books?”

He turned to look at her, waiting until she met his eye to answer. “The right couple involved in the right relationship has no need for books. When it’s there, when it’s real, you know it. And if it isn’t, no book is going to make it work.”

She held his stare, her eyes wide, glittering in the low lighting of the room. “Is it there for you? Have you found your perfect partner?”

Nate was unable to resist the slow smile that curled across his lips. He reached over, tucking a nearly dry blond curl behind her ear. “Ask me tomorrow,” he whispered.

Her eyes widened as she caught his meaning.

He knew it was crazy, given their brief relationship, but something was happening between them. They were in sync. They spoke with the same rhythm, laughed with the same sense of natural joy…looked at each other with the same sense of intrigue.

It was more than physical, more than titillating or exciting, more than a delightful interlude.

“Something’s happening here, isn’t it? Something amazing.” He didn’t move toward her, letting his words and his voice be the only indicators of the depth of his interest in her. The next move was hers.

She made it. When her eyes narrowed slightly, zoning in on his mouth, he knew she wanted to kiss him. She leaned closer, tentatively, and he didn’t move, knowing somehow that she had to do this, had to be the initiator.

Then, with a soft sigh, she brushed her lips against his. Focusing all his thoughts on the sensation, he remained still, letting himself be kissed by this woman whose name he didn’t yet know. Letting her move closer, move over him, cup one side of his face with her soft, cool palm.

She tilted her head, parted her lips slightly. When her tongue slid out tentatively to taste him, Nate’s restraint began to skid away. He groaned and finally moved his arms to pull her on top of him.

The kiss deepened. Emboldened by his response, she increased the tempo, driving him crazy with each caress, each stroke of her sweet, wet tongue. He met her every move, anticipated and joined her when she turned her head for deeper access. Somehow, some way, she slid off him, falling to her back on the bouncy surface of the trampoline, pulling him over her. Or perhaps he pushed her. He didn’t know. Thought was gone, replaced entirely by sensation.

Nate waited for the voice in his head to tell him to stop, to insist it was insane to be making out with a woman he’d known an hour. But he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way she tasted—like sweet, intoxicating wine. The way she smelled—of roses and springtime. The way she made him feel—on fire and nearly out of control.

The gentle give-and-take of their bodies moving together on the springy surface filled his mind with images of making love to her. Right here. Right now. While a party continued in another part of the house, while his boss looked for him and his tuxedo lay wet on the bathroom floor. All he wanted was to toss away their robes and roll over her, onto her, into her, on this little fabric island. To see if this sense of rightness between them extended to the physical as well as the emotional.

It would. He knew it would. Knew it the way he knew the roads leading to his family home, the way he knew the right words to use in a story, the way he knew his own nature.

This beautiful blond stranger with the laughing eyes and the smiling lips could be the person he’d waited for all his life. He knew.

“Can something like this really happen?” she asked when he moved his mouth from hers to press kiss after kiss on her jaw, her earlobe, the long column of her throat. Her voice held longing. Desire. Wonder.

“It can,” he whispered as he moved lower to kiss her shoulder. “It is.”

Then he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything except the feel of her body, smooth, pale and ripe beneath the terry-cloth robe. He inhaled her sweet flowery scent, knowing it had imprinted itself on his brain and he’d never be able to sit in a rose garden without thinking of her for as long as he lived.

A little hitch of a moan emerged from the back of her throat when he slipped his hand under the robe to find the curve of her breast. She arched into him, offering herself, crying out her pleasure as he teased her pebbled flesh with his fingers.

Somehow their robes slipped open until they hung from their shoulders. Not shrugged off, but covering nothing. Skin met skin. The hair on his chest rubbed her pert nipples, seducing him further. Unable to resist, he bent over to nibble gently on the curve of her flesh before taking the taut tip into his mouth. She cried out, buried her hands in his hair and leaned toward him.

Her thighs parted slightly, and Nate groaned as he became aware of a deeper scent, an earthier essence of their combined arousal. His body responded, instinctively driving toward her, pressing against her, silently asking her in an age-old dance of desire, Will you?

Her eyes opened lazily, her breath growing choppy as she slid her legs apart, welcoming him, giving him her answer. Yes.

It made no sense. They were strangers. They were in someone else’s house. But Nate knew if he didn’t take this miraculously sensuous gift he would wonder what if for the rest of his life.

As if sensing his thoughts, she said, “I know. We’ll wonder later how this happened. Not now. Now I want your hands on me.”

Nate was happy to oblige. He ran the flat of his palm down her body from her throat, over the full curves of her breast, down her soft, flat belly. Lower. When he slipped his fingers between her legs he found her slick and wet. She shivered and let out a moan, which Nate echoed. “You’re sure?” he asked huskily, giving her one more out, though it nearly killed him to think of not finishing what they’d started.

Instead of answering, she reached into her robe, which lay open beneath her. When she retrieved something from the pocket and held it up to show him, Nate smiled.

“I don’t know why I took this when I saw the box in J.T.’s linen closet.” She tentatively bit the corner of her lip as the two of them stared at the small packet in her hand. “Is it wicked? Have I shocked you?”

Nate laughed softly, then reached out and plucked the condom from between her fingers. “Not wicked. Delightful.”

He lowered his mouth to hers for another long, wet, languorous kiss. When her hands moved down his body in an appreciative, lingering caress, he almost shook with his need to be inside her. Then she moved her hand lower, taking his erection in her hand. Her head fell back and her eyes closed as she explored him with her fingers until Nate had to physically pull away to avoid ending this interlude a hell of a lot sooner than he wanted.

“I want you inside me now, please,” she whispered, her eyes still closed, a sultry smile curving her pink lips.

Needing no further invitation, Nate sheathed himself with the condom, then moved between her thighs, taking another moment to taste the warm, moist skin of her neck.

She whimpered and slid one incredibly soft leg around his hips, urging him closer until he was poised at the hot, wet entrance of her body. He’d barely begun to move into her when she thrust her hips up, engulfing him, taking what he’d intended to offer her slowly and gently.

“Yes,” she cried, her voice echoing in the huge room as she took him all the way inside her.

Nate had to stop, to suck in a breath. Had to get accustomed to the most intensely pleasurable sensation he’d ever experienced. It went beyond sex, beyond physical. He felt like it was his first time. He’d never imagined that physical sensations could so quickly be enhanced by emotional ones.

“I can’t believe…” she began, then paused to gasp as he slowly withdrew from her body, only to plunge again. Deep. Fast. His every movement was enhanced by the bounce of the trampoline, setting a wonderful, unique rhythm to which they both began to dance in earnest.

“I’ve never…that is, I think I’m going to…” When her cries grew louder and he saw the telltale flush rising in her body, Nate knew she was close to climaxing.

“Yes, do,” he whispered against her lips as he changed his movements, rocking against her until she hissed her delight. She caught his motion, using his lower body to apply pressure to her most sensitive spot. Nate slowed his movements, allowing her to take what she needed, watching her face as she finally reached that peak of pleasure. And only after he saw that moment, heard a fulfilled cry that bordered on a scream, did he follow her to his own soul-shattering release.

Afterward, Nate watched her beautiful face, watched her breaths slow, her color return to normal. Finally, when she opened her eyes and gave him a pleased, languorous smile, he gently pulled out of her and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“I need to know your name,” she said dreamily. “So I know what to cry out the next time.”

“And I need to know yours,” he finally said when their lips broke apart again. “So I can know who now owns me body and soul.”

She stretched lethargically and kissed his jaw. Lifting a shoulder, she allowed the robe to fall completely off one arm. As he bent lower to taste that sweet, smooth skin, she whispered, “My name’s…”

Before she could finish, the door opened and an overhead light flashed on. Nate didn’t want to believe it. He wanted to believe it even less when he looked toward the open doorway and saw who stood there.

“J.T.” he said. “Oh, boy.”

“Oh, boy is right,” the woman in his arms echoed, her horror undisguised.

J.T. Birmingham entered the room with Raul directly behind him. Nate couldn’t meet his friend’s eyes, which had grown as round as saucers as he spied Nate and the gorgeous blonde tangled together—arms, legs and bathrobes. Wanting to protect her, Nate shifted slightly so they could see only his terry-cloth-covered back. She took the moment when she was shielded from their stares to pull her robe together over her naked, trembling body.

“Son, you’re wearing my robe,” J.T. finally said, his voice calm and steady, betraying no hint of his mood.

Yeah, he was caught by a millionaire, wearing the man’s robe during the middle of an important cocktail party at which he was a guest of honor. Caught having sex with a gorgeous stranger on that man’s trampoline.

“Can things get any worse?” he muttered.

“And,” J.T. finally continued, “you’re lying on top of my daughter.”