Читать книгу Men On Fire - Susan Lyons - Страница 11

From: Jade Rousseau [jade_rousseau@shaw.ca]

To: ‘Amarjeet Nagra’; ‘Kimberly Brock’

Subject: Write-off: Amarjeet’s new coworker, Sebastian

A compulsive exaggerator! (I’m being polite—really thinking LIAR <g>) Said he was a gourmet chef. I don’t care if a guy can cook, but if he says he can do something, he should be able to. He made a fancy French meal, said he added his “personal touches.” All I can say is, BARF!! (Yeah, literally. I’ll spare you the disgusting details.)

Frog detector rule: No dates with liars or exaggerators! And I’m going back to the original plan: only coffees or lunches, no dinners.

I could have stayed pissed off at my friends for conspiring to buy me the firefighter, but it was done. They’d been operating under the influence of too many Raining Mens. Quinn O’Malley was so not what I needed, but it wasn’t like I could exchange him for a more suitable model, so I’d make the best of the situation.

How bad could it be, playing lovey-dovey with one of the hottest men I’d ever seen?

Kimberly had told him she’d bought him for a friend and got his phone number. When I called, he’d sounded intrigued and asked what “services” I’d like him to provide. Wanting to tell him face-to-face, not in public where someone might overhear, I’d invited him to my place.

Pacing my Kitsilano condo, I resisted the urge to change clothes. Cotton pants and a T-shirt were perfect. Fancier might suggest a come-on, and work clothes were too stuffy. I left my hair loose, in a tumble of black waves that rippled past my shoulders.

After I buzzed him into the building, my heart raced as I waited for his knock on my door. I told myself it was only because this faux fiancé thing was so important to my career.

But then I opened the door and knew I’d been rationalizing. Quinn was dressed in jeans and a blue T-shirt that showcased his great body. His short black hair gleamed damply, his dark eyes twinkled, and he gave off testosterone, pheromones, and pure wicked sex appeal.

He grinned and that dimple winked. “It is you.”

My heart was thumping in response to all that hot masculinity. “What do you mean?”

“When Kimberly said she bought me for a friend, I figured it was one of the two she’d come with.”

“You noticed us?” I’d been right about our gazes connecting.

“Hard to miss the three of you. Especially you.” He made a leisurely and utterly blatant appraisal that started with my face, moved down my body, heating every inch, then returned. “Oh yeah, I noticed you, Jade. I hoped you’d be the one.”

“You’re not here because I need flattery.” My voice didn’t come out as businesslike as I’d intended. His appraisal made me feel tingly, sensual, utterly feminine, and incredibly horny. Why didn’t any of the men I dated make me feel like this?

“Why am I here? Now that you’ve got me, what do you want?” His voice was husky, curious, with an undertone of teasing innuendo.

You. Naked. Right here, right now. My body blushed all over, and I doubted my skin was dark enough to hide it. Disconcerted, I stepped back from the magnetic field he wielded. “Come in and we’ll discuss it.”

He kicked off his sandals and walked past me. With his left hand, he held out a bag from a wine shop. “Didn’t know what you had in mind, but wine’s usually a good thing.”

I had to step closer again to take it. When I did, he put out his right hand. “Hi, Jade Rousseau. I’m Quinn O’Malley.”

Trying to keep my own hand from trembling, I gripped his. Heat. A jolt of energy that weakened my knees and made my already racing pulse kick into overdrive. Honestly, a girl should be able to go without intercourse for six months without turning into a sex maniac.

I pulled my hand away and fussed with the wine bag, extracting a chilled Pinot Grigio. “Looks great. Should I open it?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I don’t drink on an empty stomach, and I haven’t had much to eat today.” My tummy had been sensitive after Sebastian’s dinner and last night’s close encounter with the toilet bowl.

“Got any snacks? We missed our last meal because we got called out.”

So he’d come directly from the fire hall. From the shower. The idea of Quinn in the shower did nothing to cool my body heat. “Uh, sure.” I realized I was hungry, as well as aroused. Better to concentrate on the safer craving. “Come into the kitchen and I’ll find something.”

He followed. “Nice apartment.”

“Thanks.” The condo was in a well-kept older building, and the rooms were spacious. My one-bedroom had an actual kitchen rather than a walk-through, a rare thing in Vancouver.

When I opened the fridge to peer inside, he stood behind me, and suddenly my kitchen didn’t seem so big. Though he didn’t touch me, he was close enough I felt his heat. I wanted to step back and plaster my back against his front. If I did, would his arms circle me? Would he palm my breasts, rub my aching, budded nipples? Did I want him to?

“Could do some kind of stir fry,” he said.

Oh right, food.

I’d been thinking cheese and crackers, and now he wanted a real meal? No way. I had bought him. He was supposed to be meeting my needs, not using his sexy charisma to get me to slave for him—a trick that no doubt worked on most women. Sweetly, I said, “I’ve had a long day. I don’t feel like cooking.”

“No sweat.” He stepped past me to rummage in the fridge. “I’ll whip up something.”

I remembered what he’d said at the auction, that he’d cook a meal for the woman who won him. “This isn’t why I bought you.”

“Tell me about it when we’re eating.” He handed me some vegetables and a packaged chicken breast, then took out fresh ginger root and soy sauce. “Soy ginger stir fry sound okay?”

“Great.” The ginger would be good for my stomach.

But then, the meal Sebastian had described last night had sounded nice too. My stomach twinged in remembrance. “No, let’s have cheese and crackers. I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

His eyes—dark brown, like strong espresso—gleamed. “You don’t think I can cook.”

I squared my shoulders. “Nothing personal, but I’ve recently had a bad experience.”

“Trust me, firefighters can cook.” His gaze and words were direct. “Where’s the rice?”

Reluctantly, I took down a bag of basmati. “I’ll open the wine. Uh, there are recipe books in the cupboard above the stove.”

He snorted.

I couldn’t bring myself to be utterly rude and tell him to stop, so soon I found myself seated at the table while Quinn moved comfortably around my kitchen. I took tiny sips of wine as we made superficial getting-to-know-you chitchat about my apartment and neighborhood. He chopped, sautéed, and stirred, while I kept an eagle eye on him to make sure he didn’t throw in any weird ingredients, like Sebastian’s “personal touches.”

Whatever the result might turn out to be, Quinn looked awfully sexy as he prepared the meal, each movement stretching his muscles in an intriguing way. Mostly, I saw his rear view, which gave me ample time to appreciate his amazing butt. Butts were great, but if I was going to ogle, I’d prefer the front view. From what I’d seen so far, his package filled out his jeans pretty damned well, but I was looking forward to an opportunity to verify that fact.

He swung around. Yup. Very nicely, indeed. “How hot do you like it?” he asked.

As hot and hard as you can dish it out, babe. “Uh, hot?” My voice squeaked.

His lips curved into that dimple-flashing grin. “You look like a woman who likes it hot.”

“I…” The stir fry. He meant the stir fry. “Normally I’m good with spicy, but my stomach’s sensitive today.” Great. Now he’d probably figure I had menstrual cramps.

“I’ll keep it gentle.”

Dinner. He really did mean dinner. Not his strong hands caressing my body, awakening every nerve ending. His big cock sliding back and forth in slow, seductive motions.

Watching as he added a tiny amount of crushed red chili pepper, I wondered what was going on with me. I was a healthy woman with a normal sexual appetite, but I’d never reacted so strongly to a man before. How could I take him to a work event when all I could think about was stripping him naked and having my way with him?

He dished up the meal and sat across from me. “Okay. Why did you buy me, Jade? And why get your friend to bid for you?”

I took a quick gulp of wine for courage. “I need you to pretend to be my fiancé.”

Quinn gaped, then burst out laughing. “Seriously?”

“I need a fiancé to take to two or three work events. And I asked Kimberly to bid because my boss’s wife was at the auction.” He was still chuckling. “I’m glad you find this so amusing.”

“Well, it’s pretty weird.” He picked up his fork. “Could’ve been worse, though. Know what my buds got bought for?”

“The two other firefighters? What?”

“One has to rent a tux and escort a woman to the opera. And he’s a hockey guy.”

Cautiously, I tasted the food. Wow, the man really could cook. “This is wonderful. Thank you. How about your other friend?”

“Salsa lessons. She wants to take salsa lessons and needs a partner.”

“That could be fun.”

“She weighs a couple hundred pounds, and it’s definitely not muscle.”

“It’s wrong to discriminate against someone because they’re a little heavy.” I thought about my write-off date, potbellied Peter, and felt like a hypocrite.

“See if you say that when it’s your toes she’s tromping on.”

“I thought you firefighters were supposed to be tough.”

He chuckled and refilled our wineglasses. “Yeah, my buds’ll suck it up. The children’s wing’s a good cause. We see kids injured every day, and the facility’s really needed. When we volunteered, we knew we might get stuck with some weird stuff.”

What generous men, Quinn and his friends. “Please don’t tell them about our arrangement. It has to be a secret. Tell them…I got you to cook me dinner.”

“They’ll think I got off easy.” He ran his fingers lightly over the back of my hand. “And I did.” He stroked up my bare forearm, igniting sparks. His tone altered, took on that husky, seductive note. “It’s not exactly a hardship being with you, Jade.” The heat in his dark eyes matched up with his voice, like sinfully rich and tempting dark chocolate.

As I’d figured, he was a player. All the same, his touch, his voice, those sexy eyes were so tempting that I said, “You either, Quinn,” before I realized what I was doing.

He gave a satisfied grin. “If we’re engaged, we need to get to know each other.”

Right. Business. The man was so distracting it was hard to keep focused. “I’ve typed up a biography you can study. And I’ll need to know things about you, the things a fiancée would know.”

His eyes danced. “She’d know if I’m a good kisser.”