Body Heat

by Adrianne Byrd

  Finally Hylan said, “There is something seriously wrong with you.”

  Nikki’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. “Why?”

  “Why?” he thundered. “You’ve been fabricating a marriage for eighteen months to a man you have never met! Does that sound sane to you? I have family here for Pete’s sake.”

  “Oh, I know. I adore your Aunt Addie. She’s really been a doll to me since I’ve been here. You know she says that she hasn’t seen you since you were a child. You really should take the time to visit your family more often. Not just, you know—” she shrugged “—bring different girlfriends here to make out on the beach.”

  Silence.

  Nikki coughed and cleared her throat. “Just a suggestion.”

  “Lady. I don’t know who you are and I don’t care to know. But I do want you to pack your things and get out of my house. Now!”

  Nikki jumped at his sudden roar, and then in the next second jumped again when a thunderclap seemed to shake the house at its very foundation.

  Hylan closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. “All right. Make it first thing in the morning.”

  Nikki sputtered to say something, but the huge lump that had just lodged in the center of her throat prevented any response.

  Hylan turned around, grabbed his bags from the foyer and then marched back up the stairs. As he maneuvered past Nikki, who was still standing silently in the center of the staircase, he issued one final warning. “Believe me, if you’re still here when I wake up in the morning, I will call the police.”

  Chapter 6

  The moment the sky’s thick, gray clouds swallowed the evening sun, Saint Lucia was hammered with high winds and sheets of hard-pounding rain. Storms were not unusual from June to December, but after a couple of hours Hylan wondered if they were in the midst of hurricane weather. Why didn’t he check the weather forecast before he left Atlanta?

  Briefly, he thought to ask his loony tunes, fake wife what they were in for, but then he would quickly dismiss the notion. Mainly because, to add insult to injury, he was forced to huddle up in one of the guestrooms so she could pack up her stuff in the master bedroom.

  His room.

  In fact, every time his thoughts turned toward the unhinged beauty, he experienced an unsettling tic in his right eye. What kind of woman just moves into a stranger’s house and pretends that she’s married to him? A crazy one, he thought, answering his own question. Hell, maybe he should lock his door and sleep with some kind of weapon under his pillow. Knowing psycho, she could creep into his room, kill him and then pretend to be a widow.

  Hylan laughed and then caught himself. What the hell? Was insanity contagious? Seeing how his luck was running lately, it probably was.

  Still, the look on her face when their eyes met this afternoon kept eliciting a chuckle or two as he lay across his bed. The kicker was her total commitment to her performance. The way she ran down those stairs and threw her arms around his neck as if she was truly welcoming her husband back home indicated that she had definitely improved on her acting skills since the last time he’d seen her.

  And that kiss.

  Whew! Hylan shook his head as a sudden heat wave blazed up his neck. He never kept a running tab or anything, but he’d kissed his share of women, and he could honestly say that Ms. Few-Beers-Shy-of-a-Six-Pack was a damn good kisser—and was it just his imagination or did she really taste like…raspberry Bubble Yum?

  Who cares what she tasted like? She’s crazy.

  Funny thing was the more he said it, the more he didn’t quite believe it. Well, not completely. There was something else that was going on. He saw it in her eyes when she was rambling on about their near divorce.

  Wait a minute. He sat up in bed. Eighteen months ago? Wasn’t that about the same time he’d seen her in that play? He tried to do the calculations in head, but was unsure exactly when he’d seen the play. He remembered he’d been seeing Shonda at the time because she was the only one dragging him to theaters that far off Broadway.

  “Strange,” he mumbled under a sudden clap of thunder. Hylan sat fixed on the side of the bed mulling over this strange twist of fate—or growing list of coincidences. He hadn’t decided which one it was just yet. Maybe he was a little harsh on her. He could have sat her down and let her tell him her story from the beginning. Come tomorrow he was going to have one hell of a job, trying to clear up this whole mess.

  He tried to picture Rafiq and Mahina’s reactions when he told them the news that Nikki was nothing more than an impostor and she had snowed them completely. Truthfully, he couldn’t imagine Mahina taking the news all that well. She boasted every chance she could that she was an excellent judge of character and it was clear that she loved Nikki to death.

  Now why is that my problem? I’m not the one who lied.

  But he was the one kicking her out.

  Hylan’s head jerked toward his closed door and while the thunder rolled outside, he sat there. Thinking…

  In the master bedroom, Nikki had collapsed in a heap in her beloved walk-in closet, sobbing her eyes out. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself that she should consider herself lucky that she wasn’t sitting in jail right now or that Hylan…or rather Mr. Dawson…had every right to kick her out of this beautiful house—even in the middle of this storm, if he chose to, she still couldn’t help but feel wronged somehow. Really. Would it have hurt him to hear her out—to let her explain what happened?

  Nikki shoved a pair of her favorite flats against the wall and continued to sulk. What was she going to do now? Where was she going to go—back home?

  The very idea caused her eyes to damn near roll to the back of her head. She could just hear her father now. “When are you going to grow up? When are you going to stop this whole writing nonsense?”

  Another river of tears flowed down her face. This time she didn’t bother to try to wipe them away. Maybe it was time for her to give up the ghost—stop chasing rainbows and join the real world. It took some work but she finally managed to pull herself off the floor. Instead of pulling her clothes off each hanger, she simply opened her arms wide and grabbed as much as she could in one fell swoop and then carried them back into the adjoining bedroom. There she proceeded to just dump all of her stuff in an open suitcase in the middle of the huge platform bed. Once she did that the tears came again.

  C’mon, girl. Get it together.

  The problem with Nikki crying so much meant that hiccups were never too far behind. Was it weird? Yes. But what could she do about it? She hiccupped when she cried. None of it changed the fact that come morning, she would be homeless. Hell, she didn’t even have enough to afford a ticket home…and she was not calling her parents.

  You could call Barbara.

  Yeah! She could call her little sister to come to her rescue. Yippee, yippee, joy, joy.

  In between sniffling and hiccupping, Nikki’s gaze veered over to the glowing screen of her laptop on her desk. Well, technically it was Mr. Dawson’s desk. She walked toward it as her bottom lip grew heavier. She was so close. About fifteen more pages and she would finally be able to type the words the end. In the bigger scheme of things, she guessed that it really didn’t matter. It wasn’t like there was some big-time producer, salivating for her next script or a swell of fans camped out in long lines at the box office anxiously anticipating opening night.

  So what was the big deal?

  She wiped her eyes, sniffed and hiccupped. The simple truth was that now was as good a time as any to stop running from reality.

  Boom!

  Crash!

  Nikki screamed at the cannon-like thunder clap, but the crash was definitely a window or something in the house breaking. Without hesitation, she pivoted toward the bedroom door and raced out into the hallway. Then two things happened at once—the lights went out and she smacked into something solid at full speed.

  Another scream ripped from her throat. In the next second her ass hit the floor—har
d.

  “Ouch!”

  “I can’t tell which is making a louder racket—you or the storm.”

  Nikki stiffened. Was he mocking her? “What was that noise?” she asked, climbing up from the floor. Not until she was back on her feet and Hylan’s hand brushed against her right breast, did she know that he had been trying to offer her his hand in the darkness. The contact was brief, but it was long enough to send a white-hot jolt through her body.

  “Oh, excuse me,” he said, jerking his hand back.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, dropping her head and wondering about the lingering tingle from his brief touch.

  Bang! Bang!

  Nikki jumped again, but she didn’t dare scream. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she was some kind of damsel in distress. She was, but she didn’t want him to know it.

  “What the hell is that?” he asked, agitated.

  “It’s gotta be one of the windows downstairs,” she answered, taking off for the stairs. Despite it being pitch black, Nikki navigated her way through the hallway and down the stairs easily. Having been in charge of the renovations, she knew exactly where everything was.

  Hylan was a different story.

  Nikki was halfway down the staircase when there was a different kind of bang behind her. It was followed by a grunt, a groan and then another bang.

  “Goddamn it,” he hissed. “Who in the hell put this damn desk right here!”

  “Are you all right?” she shouted back at him.

  Hylan muttered a few more curses and then it sounded as if he was…hopping.

  “Be careful. The staircase brass ball is—”

  Thump!

  “Aaagh!” Hylan stumbled down the staircase like an avalanche.

  Nikki tried to get out of the way, but it was too late. Hylan clipped her at the knees and she landed in his lap, riding him the rest of the way down—screaming all the way. Seconds later, which felt like hours, the bumpy ride came to an abrupt halt, but it took a while for Nikki to realize it. Her life was still flashing before her eyes.

  Feeling his nerves being severed, Hylan smacked a hand across her opened mouth. “Damn, girl. You have a set of pipes on you.”

  She shut up and then wondered what the hell was piercing her so hard in the ass. Then it hit her. “Oh.”

  “I’m going to remove my hand. Do you promise not to scream my damn ear off?”

  Nikki nodded. The moment his hand fell away, she popped out of his lap like a Pop Tart in a toaster. Now she was tingling in a couple of places. Bang! Bang!

  “The window,” she whispered and started to take off again.

  “Oh, you’re just going to leave a brother all busted up on the floor. It’s like that?”

  “Sorry.” Embarrassed, Nikki blindly reached out her hands until she found him struggling to get up. She pulled and tugged, and didn’t really believe that she was all that much help in getting him to his feet. “Are you all right?”

  Hylan hissed. “Yeah. I think I just aggravated an old basketball injury.” When he was finally back on his feet, he said, “After you.”

  To save time, Nikki grabbed his hand. That same electricity hit her again and she wondered if the man was a walking, talking power grid. “Let’s go.” She led him by the hand, successfully maneuvering him around plants and furniture with ease. The broken window was in the entertainment room. A tree branch had shattered the glass and one lone shutter kept banging back and forth in the wind.

  “I’ll go get the nails, drill gun and flashlight,” Nikki said. “You stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

  Before Hylan could respond, she was off. A few minutes later, she was back with the tools and more. Feeling the need to prove that he did at least know a little sumthin’ sumthin’ about maintenance and repair—after all, he was a civil engineer—Hylan grabbed the nails and drill and instructed Nikki where to point the flashlight. It wasn’t exactly easy work with all the wind and rain, and by the time he’d removed the fallen tree branch and boarded up the window, he was drenched from head to toe.

  “There. That ought to hold it,” he panted.

  “What’s that?” Nikki asked, focusing the light on his left hand. “You’re bleeding.”

  Hylan blinked at the long gash in the palm of his hand. He hadn’t even felt it when he’d cut himself.

  Nikki clasped his wrist and ignored the bizarre jolt of electricity to lean in for a closer look. “It doesn’t look too deep.” She shook her head. “Let me fix you up.”

  Hylan hesitated when she pulled his arm.

  She chuckled. “C’mon. I might be a little crazy, but I promise, I’m harmless.”

  He smiled and allowed her to drag him along, but given how his heart was hammering inside his chest, he wasn’t buying that harmless crap one bit.

  Chapter 7

  Nicole Jamison was crazy—but she was sort of that cute kind of crazy, Hylan decided. For the past twenty minutes, they sat in the center of the living room floor, completely surrounded by an army of candles. After watching her carefully and patiently tend to his cut with a first aid kit he didn’t know he owned, he started to feel a little guilty about the way he’d treated her earlier. Not to mention, she had the softest pair of hands he’d ever felt. And what was that delightful scent clinging to her skin?

  “There,” she said, smiling at her handiwork. “That ought to hold you until you can see Dr. Walcott.”

  “Is he still practicing?”

  “Yep. Cataracts, glaucoma and senility be damned.”

  Hylan chuckled as he squinted down at his bandaged hand. “Nice work,” he said, impressed.

  “You say that now, but wait until the lights come back on.”

  They laughed, their tone blending harmoniously until both remembered that they weren’t supposed to like one another. Immediately, their gazes dropped and then shifted around the room.

  “Well,” Nikki said. “I guess I better get this stuff cleaned up.” She grabbed the used cotton balls and unused bandages and started shoving them into a plastic bag.

  “Here. Let me help you,” Hylan offered.

  “No. That’s not necessary,” Nikki said, rushing to move things out of his way.

  “C’mon. I insist.”

  “It’s all right. I got it.” She gathered everything and then jumped to her feet, but before she could run away, Hylan caught hold of her dress hem.

  “Whoa. Whoa. Slow down,” he ordered.

  Nikki froze and then slowly allowed her gaze to find him with the aid of the flickering candlelight. Damn. He’s handsome. His dark mocha skin was now radiant with a luminous golden glow and his eyes exuded warmth that was both thrilling and inviting. This was the face of the ladies’ man that she’d heard endless stories about—not the fire-breathing dragon that had ordered her out of the house by morning.

  “Sit down,” he said, smiling.

  She hesitated. True it was a simple request, but suddenly she didn’t know whether she could handle a man like Hylan. He had the look of someone who was used to getting what he wanted in life—and right now, he looked as though he wanted her.

  The thought was so ludicrous that Nikki laughed aloud at herself.

  Hylan frowned and pulled back.

  Great. Now he thinks you’re crazy again. Nikki bit the bullet and sat back down. Now a strange awkwardness had settled its way into the room and the two strangers were left to listen to the howling wind and relentless rain. It would have helped if Nikki knew how to act around men of Hylan’s ilk—or men in general. Another curse in Nikki’s life was her uncanny ability to drive men away. In droves.

  It wasn’t her looks. She’d had her fair share of admirers over the years. It was more like…her mouth. Any time she was around a guy she liked, she had two modes: shy—which usually meant that her tongue was so twisted up that she couldn’t get the right words to flow—or Chatty Cathy—which meant she couldn’t shut up even if someone held a gun to her head and threatened to blow her aw
ay. Either way, both responses had the same results—men treated her like she’d just landed from outer space. With all that going on, it was amazing that she’d ever been kissed, much less gotten laid—which, after sex, was when she really got chatting.

  Why not, since sex usually lasted all of two minutes.

  “Look,” Hylan started. “About this afternoon—”

  “No. No. You don’t have to explain,” she said.

  “It’s just that—”

  “You weren’t expecting to find someone living in your house,” she finished for him.

  “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to find a wife.”

  “Yeah, I guess that was probably a bit of a shock,” she acknowledged.

  “It’s not that I don’t think you…you know—wouldn’t make a nice wife for someone,” he added hesitantly.

  “Just not for you,” she said, attempting to help.

  “Well, I don’t really know you,” he said, softening his reply with a lighthearted laugh.

  “Good point,” she added, chuckling and waving a finger at herself.

  For a moment, it seemed as if they were on a good roll and breaking the ice, but there was really nowhere to go with this particular line of discussion—not without carelessly tossing the words crazy, insane, psychotic or mentally unbalanced around. So after another few minutes of listening to the storm, Nikki chose the only other avenue that was left.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Unfortunately, it was so low that Hylan didn’t quite catch it.

  “What?” he asked leaning closer.

  Nikki forced her gaze to meet his again. “I owe you a huge apology,” she said a little louder. “And I’m really thankful that you didn’t drop a dime on me when Momma Mahina and Rafiq were here.” Tears stung her eyes before flooding her vision. “That would’ve been humiliating.” She sniffled and wiped a knuckle across the bottom of her lashes.

  Hylan sat quietly, watching her.

  “I really didn’t mean to cause any harm, it’s just that…” She glanced away.

  Without thinking, Hylan reached over and brushed the thick curtain of black hair from her shoulder. What he uncovered was a beautiful long neck that he was willing to bet everything in his bank account was as sweet as anything Godiva put in a box. “It’s just what?”