Читать книгу Walk on the Wild Side - Natalie Anderson - Страница 8

KELSI just couldn’t look Jack in the eye as he waved the comb in front of her before placing it on the table. She barely mumbled her thanks as he sat back down in the chair opposite her.

So she was too late for her appointment at the super spa. So she’d had a lime-green comb caught in the back of her hair. So she’d run over a prime piece of male. So she’d nearly hyperventilated when that prime piece had stood so close and so carefully got that comb out and all she’d been able to think about was how tall he was and how gentle, despite the way he was built…

So now she really wanted to leave. Except she had almost run him over, and, instead of her making it up to him, he’d driven her to a nice café, bought her coffee and encouraged her to relax. So she couldn’t skip out on him. She had to stay—just to be polite, right? Her internal debate was pointless anyway—he still had her car keys.

She looked at him and fell apart inside again. The gleam in his eyes was even brighter now and he definitely gave her the complete once-over, and did he linger on her lips? Kelsi fought against her immediate instinct to run her tongue over them—she was not going to be so obvious. Not, not, not. Especially because he was so gorgeous. Without doubt he was used to having some kind of mesmerising effect on females because that confident, cheeky smile was spreading over his face.

Instead of licking her lips she took another sip of coffee. The warmth braced her and sent the last of the cold, sick feeling from the accident packing. As she swallowed, her brain clicked back to fully functioning—finally.

She figured if she didn’t look him in the eye she could maybe keep her brain working. But looking at his body wasn’t that much better. Mentally she tried to box him up so she could put him away—but he needed one that she didn’t have in the ‘overwhelming male’ compartment of her brain. He was a bit too big and fit and breathtaking…

She inhaled deeply, determined to make a polite, hopefully sane, effort. She totally owed him that. He flashed the ultracharm smile again but she was smart and looked at her coffee cup instead. Only another mouthful and it’d be finished. Then she could go.

‘So, what were you late for?’ he asked as she lifted the cup.

She lowered it, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. ‘Nothing.’

His brows lifted. ‘Not nothing. Tell me.’

OK, so now he was going to think she was a total sad ditz. ‘A spa treatment.’

‘A what?’ he asked, sounding a little too confused.

Kelsi was sure he’d heard but he was just making her say it again because she was so flushed. Pointlessly, she tried to smooth her hair behind her ear.

‘A spa,’ she said, determined to speak clearly. ‘You know, a day treatment at a beauty parlour.’ Not just any parlour, the most exclusive salon in town. They obviously thought she really needed it—this guy probably did, too.

‘And what were you having done?’

‘Facial, massage, hair.’ She shrugged and lifted the cup to her mouth.

‘Cut or wax?’

She nearly choked on the coffee. ‘Cut.’ She tried to lie like a pro but she knew her colour had risen higher. The nerve of him.

He was grinning wildly now. Openly laughing at her plans for the day and stupidly she felt the need to justify it—even when it hadn’t been her idea. ‘I haven’t had a day off in four months. My boss said I needed to recharge my batteries.’

‘A beauty salon wouldn’t be the place to do that.’

No. She’d have picked an art gallery. Preferably one in Paris. One day she’d get to do the travel thing—once she had her career established.

‘What about some fresh air? A walk somewhere nice? Wouldn’t that be more of a boost?’

Of course he would be the outdoor sports guy—the sport billy, with a practically-kill-yourself-climbing-a-mountain-to-feel-good approach to life. She couldn’t think of anything worse. She just wanted to relax—and rest. ‘Fresh air isn’t good for my skin,’ she said with a helpless gesture.

‘No?’

Was the man blind? She was practically albino. Well, not really—the hundreds of freckles proved her pigment worked all right. She felt her flush deepen. ‘I burn really easily.’

‘You could wear a hat,’ he drawled.

She opened her eyes ingénue wide and batted her lashes as she drawled right back at him, ‘And ruin my hair?’

His gaze rested on the tangle and then sliced into hers again. A split second of solemnity froze them both.

And then they laughed—simultaneously, genuinely. She shook her head at her lame little joke. But the amusement warmed her veins better than the energising coffee she’d just swallowed.

‘Tell you what, Ms Spa Treatment, seeing you’ve lost your day at the salon, let me take you out instead. We’ll see how much better you feel after some fresh air.’

She met the inviting blue pools that were his eyes and couldn’t ignore the tingling sensation spreading over her skin. Had she bumped her head in that accident and not realised? Because she was thinking all kinds of weird thoughts now—such as that this guy might actually be hitting on her. And that just couldn’t be possible. ‘Um…’

‘Come on, come and have some fun.’

‘It isn’t fun outdoors.’

‘You’re afraid.’ The smallest hint of provocation sharpened his gaze.

No,’ she denied, ‘I’m just not.’ Believing this guy had just asked her out. ‘Interested.’

‘Really?’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Not even a little bit?’

She swallowed. He knew he was gorgeous, didn’t he? But before she could think up even a vaguely suitable reply, he tweaked her nerves that bit harder.

‘You don’t like a challenge?’

‘You’re seriously suggesting that a day outdoors would be better than a day at a spa.’ She finally managed to answer, amazed her voice didn’t break like a teen boy’s.

‘A million times better.’

‘That’s quite some promise.’ She sipped the last drop of her coffee and wrinkled her nose as she got the bitter bits.

‘You’re going to take me up on it?’

She avoided his eyes as she thought about it. Really, it was a no-brainer. She couldn’t bear the thought of going to the spa and apologising for her tardiness now. And she couldn’t go to work. As the only female designer, Kelsi felt a certain pressure to do better than the boys, but working extreme hours on a deadline had left her jaded and in need of a break—something her boss had noticed, hence the spa thing. She couldn’t let them know she hadn’t showed up.

And what else would she do? She’d been working so hard since moving here she hadn’t had time to build a huge social life out of work. Honestly, she hadn’t built much of a social life at work either—her new computerboy colleagues were all into gaming and she wasn’t. That pretty much ended it. But she was quite sure Jack didn’t have social life issues. He was in a whole other league altogether—handsome, charming, bound to be a player. ‘You don’t have anything better to do?’

‘Not right now. No.’

Her body was the ice cream, temptation the raspberry ripple—churning right through and flavouring every bit of herself. ‘What’s in it for you?’

‘The pleasure of seeing you cross over to the light side.’

‘The outdoor appreciation society, you mean?’

‘We might need to get something better for you to wear, though.’ His gaze narrowed.

She stiffened—was he about to tell her what she should wear?

‘I thought girls were over the Goth phase by the time they hit their twenties.’ He smiled, skewering her on two fronts—with his gleaming expression and teasing words.

But Kelsi’s swift flash of anger got doused by that expression. If her instincts were on track, he didn’t think her outfit was all that ugly.

‘I’m not Goth,’ she said, feeling his eyes burning through her—making her body respond in a far too physical way.

‘Emo then. The whole vampire thing, isn’t it?’ he asked softly. ‘Pale skin and weird-coloured eyes and loose dark clothes.’

Kelsi clasped her hands together in front of her body, hiding the tightness of her nerves—and nipples. ‘I am not on the vampire bandwagon. I change my hair and eye colour all the time. And the pale skin I can’t help.’ The loose dark clothing accusation she had to admit to—but she had reason. ‘Covering up protects it from the sun.’

She watched him look her over once more and half wished she were wearing her usual ten layers or so instead of just the one long dress. In fact, its spaghetti straps and thin, clinging fabric meant she was far more exposed than usual.

‘See, you are a vampire.’ He grinned suddenly, wickedly. ‘Concealing yourself.’

‘I’m revealing myself.’ She laughed at his ridiculousness. ‘It’s self-expression. I work in a creative industry.’

‘What, so you have to look as way out as possible? With dyed hair and unnatural eyes?’ He leant forward, penetrating. ‘What’s their real colour anyway?’

She flexed her fingers, moving to disperse some energy. ‘Nothing exciting.’

‘No?’

‘Some people accessorise with handbags or shoes or both. I accessorise with eye colour or pattern.’

‘Pattern?’ His brows shot up. ‘Patterns on your eyes?’

‘Sure.’ She had the most fabulous collection of freaky contacts. Shopping on the internet was a temptation to which she frequently succumbed.

‘Why?’

‘Why not?’ It was different. It wasn’t the typical beautiful babe thing—she wasn’t ever going to be pretty or beautiful. She couldn’t compete with that—but she could do quirky. She could do defence.

‘You’re like an inverse chameleon. You hope people won’t see past the surface?’ He nailed her just like that. He finished his coffee and stood. ‘Come on, then, so long as you’re sure you’re not going to eviscerate if you go into the sunshine, let’s get out of here.’

It wasn’t the sun that threatened to eviscerate her. It was his burning focus.

On the footpath outside he tossed the car keys at her. ‘I just need to get something. Be a minute.’

She caught the keys and watched him walk unevenly across the road into the snow’n’skate store.

This was her opportunity to escape him—to get in the car and put her foot on the accelerator to the spa and apologise for lateness. But as if she was going to do that—she hadn’t wanted to go there anyway. And as if she was going to pass up an opportunity to spend some time with a good-humoured guy who looked as if he’d just stepped out of a sportswear catalogue?

She might be different, but she wasn’t crazy.

She got into the car and scooted the driver’s seat forward again so her feet could reach the pedals. He was back in a minute as he’d said, clutching an uber-hip recyclable shopping bag with the store’s logo.

‘You have friends in there?’

He just winked, chucking the bag on the back seat and fixing the legroom in the passenger seat. ‘You sure you’re OK to drive?’

With a flourish she curled her fingers round the steering wheel. ‘I’m fine.’

He leaned close. ‘No more urgent grooming matters to attend to?’ His voice was the auditory equivalent of chocolate sauce—warm and smooth and ready for a berry to be dipped in it.

‘I think the pedestrian population is safe now,’ she muttered, trying to get her pulse to stop its rapid acceleration.

‘Great. Then take the first left.’

She did exactly that and in only a hundred metres or so had to stop—a red light. Naturally. But as she paused he leaned across her seat, reaching his long arm down between her legs.

‘What are you doing?’ she gasped. ‘I’m trying to drive.’ She lifted both hands from the wheel, undecided if she should throttle him—his head was basically in her lap!

‘Stop it.’ Actually she didn’t mean that. She was thinking all kinds of things she shouldn’t be, what with seeing his dark head hovering just above her thigh like that.

Not wriggling was really difficult. So was not crashing the car. ‘We’re at a red light. I’m trying to concentrate.’

And that was so impossible right now. He moved his hand, his shoulder rubbed against her thigh as he jerked on the handbrake between them. Then he went south again—deep south. His hand encircled her ankle, lifted it for a half second as he slipped her shoe off.

‘Jack! ’ Another totally girly gasp.

He sat back, a smile of success creasing every feature, as her shoe sat in the palm of his hand. ‘You can’t drive safely wearing these. You can’t do anything safely wearing these.’

‘I can and do,’ she said breathlessly. ‘If you were as short as me, and plainly you’re not, then you’d understand. As it is, you can’t possibly get it.’

‘I just want to get there in one piece.’

She blew out a big shot of air and finally realised she had to take the brake off as the car behind tooted impatiently. Irritatingly, it was easier to drive barefoot—but she wasn’t going to admit it to him. ‘That was really dangerous.’

‘No more dangerous than you combing your hair at a red light. At least this time you had your handbrake on.’

‘Where are we going anyway?’ She chose to change the subject.

‘Straight ahead for now.’ He gave her a sideways look that was full of a charming smile. ‘Are you OK driving on the hills?’

‘Stop trying to get into the driver’s seat. I’m fine with hills.’ She bit the inside of her cheek. OK, so she wasn’t that fine with them, but damned if she was going to let him know that.

‘There are a few hairpin corners. I can take over if you want.’

In response she trod harder on the accelerator. In only a few minutes they were heading up the hill out of town towards the peninsula that curved out from the mainland. The hills were barren and brown—no trees or scrub covering them, just tussock that leaned away from the wind. Against the bright blue sky the hills were majestic. She liked their stark smoothness and the contrast against the clear sky and blue water. But then came one of those hairpin turns.

‘You want the air conditioning on?’

So he’d noticed she was sweating.

‘It doesn’t work.’ One of the many idiosyncrasies of the car that one day she’d get fixed.

‘You should walk in town anyway.’

She sent him a look.

‘Carbon footprint,’ he said mock piously.

‘My heels don’t leave much of a footprint anyway.’

He laughed and didn’t talk more, didn’t need to direct as there was only the one road to follow. And she needed to concentrate and not be further distracted by the giant hunk of man making her car feel like a matchbox toy. But after the worst hill bit she began to relax into it, able to take in the expansive view of bronze earth and blue sky and sparkling water. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was nice—as if they were leaving all the clutter and noise of city life behind them.

‘So why do your batteries need recharging, Kelsi? What do you do that’s made you so worn out?’

‘Computers,’ she said. ‘Website design.’

‘You sit in front of a screen all day?’

‘And you want to know the shocking thing?’ She grinned and touched the accelerator with a heavier tread. ‘I like it.’

He shook his head. ‘Crazy.’

He told her to take the left when the road forked. The gravel road dipped, leading down to sea level. And then it ended. She pulled in, parking beneath one of the few trees around. She stepped out of the car, uncomfortably hobbling on the one shoe. He got the bag off the back seat and pulled something from it.

‘What is that?’ She stared at it.

He twirled it on his finger and grinned outrageously. ‘It isn’t obvious?’

‘And you think I’m going to wear it?’

‘The store didn’t stock sunscreen. And I’m betting you don’t have any in that uselessly small bag of yours.’

No, she didn’t. Because she always, always, always stayed in the shade. Resigned, she took the wide-brimmed monstrosity of a hat from him and slapped it on her head.

‘I have a wrap for your shoulders, too.’

She took the long stretch of cloth and reminded herself to avoid looking in his eyes. They made her want to smile too much. And they were filled with a fire she longed to feel on her flesh. Crazy—she definitely needed a day to recharge.

‘I had the feeling you’d like the colour.’

It was jet black. Like every item of clothing she already had on.

‘How astute of you.’ She wrapped it around her shoulders and walked a few paces. Then she stopped. ‘How am I supposed to walk on this?’

‘Maybe you should take your other shoe off. Get your feet wet.’

‘Get my feet dirty, you mean.’ She looked at the sand and barely suppressed a shudder. ‘I hate the beach. All the little biting insects come to get me. You can see them circling overhead, ready to dive-bomb and sink their teeth in.’

‘You must have sweet blood.’

‘Now who’s the one sounding like a vampire?’ She had to send him an arch look. ‘I don’t like sand either. It sticks everywhere and my skin gets itchy.’

‘Guess we won’t be rolling in the waves, then, huh?’

‘Pardon?’ She stopped walking.

‘Surfing,’ he explained, the twinkle gleaming brighter in his eyes. ‘You don’t want to surf? I know where I can get a couple of wetsuits.’

‘I don’t surf and I definitely don’t wear wetsuits.’ She shuddered even more obviously.

He laughed. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you don’t even swim in the sea.’

‘Never,’ she admitted with embarrassment. ‘I’d rather be in a private pool.’

‘With all those chemicals?’

OK, so she knew she was pathetic. But she couldn’t resist sparring with him a little. ‘Isn’t the sea more polluted?’

‘Not this bit of beach.’

She put her hand to her heart in drama academy style. ‘But there might be sharks.’

‘Or friendly dolphins.’

‘Jellyfish.’ She fluttered her fingers in his face.

‘Starfish and shells to admire.’ He caught her hands and held them still in front of him, smiling widely. ‘Face it, you can’t win on this. Nature might bring its dangers, but its beauty makes them worth the risk.’

Kelsi couldn’t think of another argument—too distracted by the marvel of nature right in front of her. What with the sea/sky-blue eyes and the slightly shaggy dark hair and the golden skin, he was quite the gorgeous surfie type. Easygoing and relaxed in nature but with no fat, just pure, lean muscle in his body—she could feel his potential strength even from the light grip he had on her.

Anticipation licked through her. She hadn’t been in the company of anyone so attractive in a long, long time. OK, ever.

Pure guy candy.

She suddenly realised she was breathless—almost panting—and they hadn’t even begun the slight climb over the sand dune down to the water. She pulled her hands free of his and made herself stop visually feasting on him. It was a wonder she wasn’t drooling. She knew she was blushing so she made a show of looking around so he couldn’t see the stain rising on her cheeks.

There wasn’t another car in the car park, and not another soul on the small curve of beach. No boats in the distance on the horizon. They could have been the only two people on all the earth for all she knew.

It was a surprisingly liberating thought.

When she turned back he kicked off his shoes and pointedly stared at the one left on her foot. She sighed but removed the darn thing, ignoring how nice the soft, warm sand felt as her toes sank into it.

This was crazy. Totally crazy. She was at a remote beach with a complete stranger. She was in the sun.

But it was heavenly.

She glanced at him as he strolled easily beside her. His limp was almost imperceptible now—thank goodness. But he was grinning like a wolf who knew everything.

‘What?’ She pulled herself together and tried to recover her wits.

He laughed then and she knew it was too late—she was already succumbing to the power of the environment. Even though she knew the sand flies were lining up preparing their attack, even though she could already feel the burning power of the sun. What did it matter when her lungs could fill and stretch with fresh, clean air? What did it matter when she was accompanied by a guy who was like a summer sprite—full of fun and sun and sexiness?

The hard ball of stress wedged just above her stomach softened. The office was miles away, computers miles away, pressure miles away. Instead there was just the beautiful blue of the sea and the sky stretching as far as she could see. And the warmth under her feet and on her skin thawed the cold inside her, too.

She walked to the edge of the water, aware that a metre or so away he’d taken a few steps into it so the waves lapped over his ankles. She turned away from him, gazing at the bronze hills behind them and then back to the deep blue but, all the while, so incredibly aware of the picture of male beauty he made. She walked alongside the edge, listening to the gentle splashes his feet made as he walked two paces to the side and behind her.

‘So what’s your favourite season, then?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Winter, right?’

‘Yes.’ She grinned at her own predictability.

‘Mine, too.’

‘No way.’ Surprised, she turned and walked backwards to look at him.

‘Yeah.’ He nodded. ‘I spend my life chasing winter.’

She frowned. ‘But you’re so tanned.’

He laughed. ‘Because I’m here for the summer recovering. ’ He bent and rubbed his hand over his knee. ‘This is an old injury—you didn’t do that with the car before.’

‘Really?’

‘I had an operation a couple weeks ago. I’m about to go for a rehab stint in Canada. Get back into training.’

‘Training for what?’

He grinned a little sheepishly. ‘I snowboard.’

She stopped walking altogether. ‘For a living?’

‘Professional snowboarder. Yes.’

‘Seriously?’ Wow. No wonder he looked so fit. She had to stifle a giggle. She’d never got this close to a professional athlete before. ‘So.’ She coughed. ‘You’re training for the Olympics?’

‘The Olympics aren’t for a couple more years, there’s some other big comps before then but, yes, the Olympics are on the horizon.’

He really was serious? ‘Have you been to other Olympics?’

He grinned. OMG he had.

‘I went as a demonstration last time but at the next Olympics mine is an official event. The first gold is coming home with me,’ he said. The grin had gone—now he was utterly, utterly serious.

And, oh, my, she believed him. ’So you go from season to season—here to Canada?’

‘Or France, China.’ He nodded. ‘Wherever has the best snow.’

‘And you work on the ski field or have sponsors or something?’

Surprise flashed in his eyes for a second. She didn’t mean to embarrass him, but she didn’t think professional snowboarders would get paid all that much. It wasn’t exactly football and on the front page all the time.

‘Uh, something like that.’ He nodded. ‘You ever snowboarded?’

She shook her head and turned back to walk along the shoreline.

‘Skied?’

‘No.’

‘But I thought you liked winter.’

‘I do.’ She wrapped her arms around her waist. ‘I like curling up in front of a fire.’

‘That’s what you do after the day on the slopes.’

She mock shuddered again.

‘You should try it some time.’ His amusement warmed his words. ‘You’ll see I’m right. Like I’m right about this.’

She heard a big splash and turned in time to see him kick again—sending a spray of water up, splashing the hem of her dress.

‘It’s not so hard, is it?’ he asked.

‘What?’ She looked at him, the heat deep in her belly bubbling now.

‘Admitting defeat.’

She moved towards him, unthinkingly taking a step into the water. It wasn’t as cold as she’d expected. So she took another.

Tanned, relaxed, utterly at home, he smiled at her. All confident. All successful. All gorgeous.

And interested. She couldn’t believe it but there was no way she was misinterpreting the wickedness in his smile. No man had ever looked at her with such obvious attraction. Never a man as gorgeous as him.

It was intoxicating—making her feel powerful and beautiful and bolder than she’d ever been in her life. All of a sudden super-vixen urges surged high. Crazy, wanton, wild feelings. And in the madness of the midday sun she let them all out.

‘You’ve made me wet,’ she said. Her gaze locked to his, she let him see her willingness. ‘But if you’re going to do that, you could at least do it properly.’

His brows lifted and the splashes sounded less gentle as he walked closer. His eyes sparkled more blindingly than the reflection of the sun on the water and his smile softened to intimate. His voice was on the same wave—wonderful. ‘How wet do you want to get?’

Excitement shot through her, stiffening every muscle. She tilted her head back so she could keep the eye contact as he came right into her space. ‘How wet can you make me?’