Читать книгу When Good Things Happen To Bad Boys - Lori Foster - Страница 6

Trying to be inconspicuous, Libby Preston glanced over her shoulder—and found that sexy, dark brown gaze still following her every move. He had a way of looking that felt like touching. Warm and gentle, but bold. Brazen, but complimentary.

She wanted to fan herself, but that’d be giving too much away, so instead she pretended not to notice and continued setting out more food on the buffet table.

They’d been at the stupid party for hours now and he’d done little more than watch her, smiling occasionally, giving her that sensual once-over that made chills race up her arms. He was a devil all right, and very sexy. She’d be smart to steer clear of him.

But really, what choice did she even have? Doctors and not-quite nurses didn’t mix very often. Her uncle hadn’t given her the job of playing waitress for his party so that she could flirt. No, it was one more way to pay him back for all she owed him, and she’d do well to remember that. And to remember her place: a lowly nobody among esteemed physicians.

The man eating her with his eyes probably thought her part of the catering crew. And that suited her fine.

Whatever he thought, he kept her keenly aware of him. Anytime she looked up, he was looking back, even while speaking with others, even while asking for a drink or munching on the fancy snacks.

Unlike the other docs attending the benefit, he didn’t wear a tie. Or a jacket. He’d unbuttoned his silky, coffee-colored dress shirt at the throat, showing a sprinkling of dark chest hair that intrigued her. He had his sleeves rolled up, and she couldn’t help but notice the thickness of his wrists, the size of his capable hands, and more black hair on his forearms. The shirt tucked into black dress slacks, emphasizing the contrast of his wide shoulders against a flat abdomen and trim hips.

Restless fingers had rumpled his midnight black hair, and beard shadow colored his jaw. He was unlike any other man in the room.

He was unlike any man she’d ever seen.

More than one woman had noticed him. But strangely enough, he paid little attention to the finely dressed female physicians flirting with him, vying for his attention. Instead, he leaned against the wall, at his leisure, sipping his drink and…watching her.

Whoa. Libby pulled herself together and finished emptying her tray of hors d’oeuvres on the linen-covered table. Giving the man her back, she retreated to the kitchen.

Her uncle stood in idle conversation with a touted surgeon. As the chief of staff at their local hospital, he knew everyone. Uncle Elwood could give her the name of the man—but no, she wouldn’t ask. Not only would it be unforgivable to interrupt, but questions on doctors would only earn her a lecture.

When her mother died, Uncle Elwood had grudgingly taken her in, but he made a point of reminding her that if his sister hadn’t been such a frivolous partier, she’d have been the one to raise Libby instead of foisting her off on him. In his eyes, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He often claimed Libby was the exact image of his sister, in looks and temperament. Therefore, at least in his mind, she could be no different.

Libby knew she had a lot to prove to her uncle. And she would—then she’d leave his life with a big fat thank you, owing him nothing, not a dime, not gratitude, nada, zip.

With everything currently in order, Libby helped herself to a small glass of punch. She’d just gotten the icy drink to her lips when Uncle Elwood harrumphed behind her.

Wincing, Libby turned, raising one eyebrow in inquiry.

“The sun has long set and you haven’t yet lit the torches along the garden path.”

“Oh.” Libby glanced out the enormous window behind the kitchen sink. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” She upended her glass and guzzled down the spiked punch in one long gulp, then covered her mouth with a hand to muffle her delicate burp.

Much aggrieved, her uncle sighed. “Please try to behave yourself, Libby. These are my esteemed colleagues. As chief of staff at the hospital, they expect much decorum from me. You mustn’t—”

Well used to the lectures, Libby cut him off by patting the front of his rich suit jacket. “I won’t shame you, Uncle Elwood, have no fear.” She set her glass in the sink and dug in the drawer for matches. “What do I do after I light the torches?”

As if hoping to think of something more, he glanced around, but as Libby already knew, organization ruled. “I suppose you could circulate, make sure everyone has a fresh drink, that the buffet table stays full, things of that nature.”

Sounded to Libby like she’d be twiddling her thumbs a lot. She winked at Uncle Elwood. “Sure thing.” Waving the box of matches in the air, she headed out of the kitchen. “I’ll go take care of the gardens right now.”

At mid-April, the evenings remained too cool for most people to venture out, but she wouldn’t mind the breath of fresh air. The stuffy nabobs her uncle deemed friends were enough to curdle her blood. She’d been hustling for hours and had worked up a dewy sweat. With any luck, she could linger outdoors and catch a breather, with no one the wiser.

The second she reentered the room, Mr. Sexy Brown Eyes tracked her, following as she crossed the room to the double sliding doors. Libby did her utmost to stay impervious. Since her mother’s death right before her fifteenth birthday, there’d been no time in her life for guys. Until she became a full-fledged nurse and gained financial and emotional independence from her uncle, nothing would change.

She could wish it different, but for tonight at least, Brown Eyes would just have to entertain himself.

With an indulgent smile, Axel Dean watched the young lady exit the room of suffocating, overbearing people. Damn, she was sweet on the eyes. Tall, nearly as tall as he was, with raven black hair and piercing blue eyes and an air of negligence that dared him, calling on his baser instincts, stripping away the façade of civility he tried to don in polite company.

Her straight hair skimmed her shoulders, darker than his own, blue black without a single hint of red. It was so silky it looked fluid, moving when she moved, shimmering with highlights from the glow of candles. The white catering shirt and black slacks didn’t do much for her figure, which he guessed to be slim and toned. She didn’t have the lush curves he usually favored, but what she lacked in body she made up for in attitude.

And attitude, as he well knew, made a huge difference in bed.

As a waiter passed, Axel plunked his empty glass down onto the tray and headed for the sliding doors. He hated uptight, formal affairs, but being a doctor often obligated him to attend. That didn’t mean he had to linger. That didn’t mean he had to mingle.

Especially when more enlivening entertainment waited outside.

Making certain no one paid him any mind, he slipped through the doors and onto a wide balcony lit by twinkle lights that mirrored the stars in the evening sky. He waited, saying a silent prayer that no one followed him. Every time he attended a gathering, women hit on him. And that’d be okay, fine and dandy by him, given that he adored women, but not within his professional circle.

He absolutely never, ever, dated anyone in his field. Not even anyone related to someone in his field.

Despite the marital bliss of both his brother and his best friend, he had no intention of settling down any time soon. That being the case, it wouldn’t be wise to get involved with relatives, friends, or associates of the people he worked with. Walking away could cause a scene, and then the entire situation would get sticky and uncomfortable.

There were plenty of women who weren’t interested in medicine, like secretaries, lawyers…or caterers.

He’d been prepared to be bored spitless tonight. Then he’d seen her hustling around the crowded room with robust energy. At first he’d assumed her to be a mere waitress for the catering company, but given how she performed each and every job, from putting out food to collecting empty dishes to directing the others, she might actually be the one in charge. Given her air of command and confidence, he figured her to be late twenties, maybe early thirties. Sexy. Mature. Flirtatious.

His heartbeat sped up, just imagining how the night might end.

When no one followed, Axel went down the curving wooden stairs to the garden paths behind Elwood’s home. The pompous ass loved to flaunt his money, and why not? He had plenty to flaunt.

Spring had brought a profusion of blooming flowers to fill the air with heady scents. The chilly evening breeze didn’t faze Axel as he searched the darkness for her. Then he saw a flare of light, realized it was a match, and made his way silently toward her.

She had her back to him, going on tiptoe to reach the top of an ornate torch anchored to the ground and surrounded by evergreens. Just as the wick caught, Axel said, “Hello.”

She went perfectly still, poised on tiptoes, arms reaching up to the top of the torch. Slowly, in an oh-so-aware way, she relaxed and turned to face him.

Insufficient moonlight left long shadows everywhere, and with the torch behind her, silhouetting her frame, Axel couldn’t read her features.

She cleared her throat. “You’re not enjoying the party.”

A statement, not a question. He put his hands in his pockets, his mood already improved. “I never do.”

“Then why attend?”

He took one step closer to her and reached for her hand. Her fingers were chilled and felt very small in his light grip. He shrugged one shoulder. “You never know when something’ll happen to make it worthwhile.” Using his thumb, he stroked her knuckles. “Like this.”

“This?”

She didn’t pull away, but wariness had entered her husky tone, cautioning him to go slowly. “You’re a smart woman. You feel it.”

Her teeth shone briefly in a quick smile. “What I’ve felt is you watching me.”

“Mmmm. Watching—and wishing.” He tugged her a bit closer. “Wishing for a private moment, just like this.”

Sexual tension hung in the air between them. Axel counted the heavy beats of his heart, tried to judge her response…

She turned away, saying lightly, “I have other torches to light.” Her hand remained held in his.

“I’ll keep you company.” Axel followed along, trailing her as she wove her way into the gardens. Elwood owned ten acres, all of it wooded but meticulously manicured. The acreage closest to his home was especially lush with ornate landscaping.

“The path leads down to the pond,” she explained. “It’s not a quick jaunt.”

Filling his words with innuendo, Axel murmured, “Quick is overrated. I prefer going slow.” The scent of her heated skin carried back to him on the breeze, more delectable than the sweet fragrance of the flowers. He breathed deeply, and his gut clenched with need.

She made a sound that could have been a chuckle or exasperation. “It’s deeper into the woods.”

Grinning to himself, Axel growled, “I can go deep.”

Now that was a laugh. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes twinkling, white teeth showing in a grin. “I meant that there might be mosquitoes.”

“It’s too early in the season.” His thumb pressed her palm. “The bugs won’t be biting—but I might.”

Another husky chuckle, then: “You’re pretty outrageous, you know that?”

He loved the sound of her voice, playful and not at all shy. “Just trying to make headway with a beautiful woman.”

“Trying for a one-night stand, you mean.”

His fingers tightened on hers, pulling her to a halt beside a gurgling fountain of marble nymphs, flanked by benches and a profusion of flowers. Small colored lights within the fountain sent a rainbow of subtle color to dance in the air.

She stared at him, her gaze level, even challenging.

Lifting a hand, Axel touched the cool velvet of her cheek, trailed his fingers into the warmer silk of her hair. Damn, but he loved how women felt, and he especially loved the feel of this particular woman. “Is that a problem?”

Her lips parted. Her eyes almost closed. Then she snapped them open and cleared her throat. “You are a temptation. But if I succumbed—the key word being if—then no, one night is all I could spare, believe me.”

The way she said that…“You’re married?” God, he hoped not. His disappointment at the thought was extreme, far too exaggerated for the brief time he’d known her. He didn’t confine himself to many rules, but dallying with married broads headed his personal list of taboos.

“Hardly.”

She made it sound as if marriage were a heinous act, a sentiment he shared. He used both hands to cup her face. Her softness seemed addictive, sending his mind into a tailspin of erotic images, making him wonder just how soft she might be in other, more carnal places.

Those thoughts brought about a semi-erection, urging him to clear the way, and quickly. “Engaged then?” Let her say no.

She licked her lips. “No.”

Thank God. He eased her closer, and it struck him how well she fit his body, her height aligning her mouth just below his, her belly to his groin, her slender thighs bumping his thicker, more muscular legs.

They had traveled enough distance from the house that no one could possibly see them. He stared at her mouth, and could almost taste her.

Her hand flattened on his chest just over his heart. “Not so fast, Romeo. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Involved?”

“No.” And with more vehemence, “Hell no. Not married, not engaged, and definitely not looking to be either.”

Seconds ticked by while she stared at him, and Axel prayed she’d come to an agreeable conclusion.

Finally, on a long sigh, she said, “I think I have to kiss you. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.”

Something tightened inside him—anticipation. Something loosened at the same time—relief.

He tilted up her chin. “We can’t have you berating yourself later, now can we?” His mouth curled in a smile of welcome. She wanted to kiss him? Then by all means, he’d make it easy on her. “Make it any kind of kiss you want. Just make it soon, before I forget my manners and take charge.”

She snorted. “I doubt you have any manners, but with an invitation like that…” Still holding the box of matches, she braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned in. Her nose touched his, playfully nuzzled him while her warm breath teased his mouth and her breasts just barely skimmed his chest.

And then her lips were on him, scalding hot, damp, so sweet that he actually groaned out loud.

She eased back with a smile. “What was that?”

Axel caught her waist—a damn narrow waist—and brought her back in close again. His breath was labored, his boner now full-fledged and throbbing. “Lust, darlin’. Pure, unadulterated lust.” His voice dropped to a husky growl, and he ordered, “Now kiss me again.”