A Date with Desire

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A Date with Desire Page 7

by Heather McGovern


  Carefully, she leaned down, collecting a little water in her hand, giving herself something to do. She patted at her neck and cheeks. Whatever it took to dawdle and watch Dev dry off some more.

  “You’ve still got some dirt right there.” He pointed to her cheek.

  She swiped at her cheek, her attempt halfhearted at best.

  He shook his head and reached for her. With the fingers of one hand, curled under her chin, he held her face still. With the other, he swiped the pad of his thumb across her skin.

  Goose bumps rose on her arms, and not because of the cold water.

  If he saw, he’d know exactly the effect he had on her, and she couldn’t bring herself to mind.

  “Do I look like I’ve face-planted in mud?” she asked as he touched her.

  “Far from it.”

  “Is there a towel or a mirror in your brother’s truck, by any chance?”

  “You don’t need all that.” He leaned away, assessing her. Then he reached back and tugged his shirt up over his head.

  And she almost swallowed her tongue.

  Dev with his shirt hiked up was hard enough to endure without reacting. Shirtless, he made heat flash up her neck. She put a hand on the side of the greenhouse for support.

  Smooth, tan skin, a dusting of hair across his chest, the thick roll of muscle across his pecs and shoulders.

  “Here.” He bent down and ran his shirt under the water. Once he’d wrung it out, he went back to holding her chin, turning it to wipe the dirt from her face.

  She counted to ten, she sang the birthday song—anything to keep her mind busy.

  None of it worked. Heat radiated off him, not helping her neck situation at all. If he touched her right now, trailed the tips of his fingers down her neck or anything else, she’d end up sighing or moaning, very loud, and embarrass the crap out of both of them.

  A shiver ran through her at the thought, and she pinched her eyes closed.

  “Cold?” he asked, way too close for her control.

  “I—I wouldn’t say that. No.”

  She opened her eyes to find him staring right into them. His pale gaze gleamed as he ran his tongue over his lips. “No?”

  He knew exactly what he was doing; he was making sure she did too.

  With water collected in his palm, he cleaned one of her arms, then the other, chasing the rivulets with the sweep of his hand.

  He was bathing her—in a sense. The warmth of his skin against hers, his work-roughened fingers applying the perfect pressure and friction, his touch amazing. And she was supposed to stand there and not spontaneously combust?

  “Better?” His voice was pitched low and rough.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Heck yes, she was.

  “Is this okay?” He still touched her. She was clean, but his hands lingered, making a slow descent to her wrists.

  He stepped even closer, a gentle tug on her wrists to bring her toward him.

  The question hung there, even as the charge between them grew. He wanted to know if she was okay with him touching her, getting closer, possibly sweeping her into his arms and devouring her mouth with his.

  And the answer was yes. She was more than okay with all of that. Shocking, really, to think how okay she’d be.

  The guilt might come, later, but right now she wanted to know what he’d do next. Feel his touch somewhere other than her arms. Taste his kiss.

  Anna nodded, taking the final step, slipping her wrists from his grasp to slide her hands over the curve of his bare arms. “Is this?”

  Was any of this wise? Advisable when the point of her being here was to focus? No.

  Did she care? Absolutely not.

  There was a flash of something else in his eyes then. Something dark and carnal and her body reacted to the promise. The heat on her neck flooded her limbs, tingling all the way into her core.

  What if he looked like that during sex? All hungry and perfect and predatory. What if he looked at her like that?

  Her pulse pounded, her body aching for whatever he could give her.

  The crushing rush of need startled her, as unfamiliar as the giddy high of having her interest returned so blatantly.

  And she liked it.

  She was alive in the moment. Present. Right now.

  Dev bent, his lips inches from hers. “A hell of a lot more than okay,” he said. Then he kissed her.

  A hot, promising press of his lips against hers, sucking gently until she tilted into him.

  He swept his tongue against the seam of her lips, heat flickering between her legs. She opened to him and he slanted his mouth against hers with a low, possessive sound.

  She had no idea what that noise was she made in response, but the sound certainly wasn’t dignified.

  Dev’s hands were on her then. His fingers gripping her waist, dragging her against him. He kissed like his thirst for her outweighed even his thirst for water.

  His bare chest was a hot brand against her, the hard planes molding into her curves, marking her in a way she’d never forget.

  Her fingers slipped on his damp skin and she gripped him tighter, making him growl into her mouth.

  “Hey, Dev! Where you at? Can I bother you for some help up here real quick?” Will yelled, looking for them.

  “Hell.” Dev pulled himself away from her, his expression pained.

  “Dev?” he shouted again.

  “Yeah! I’ll help.”

  His gaze met hers, apologetic, aggravated, and about as sexually frustrated as she felt. “I’ve got to—”

  “I know.”

  He went to help Will, and she caught her breath.

  Once he was gone around the side of the greenhouse, she fanned herself, pulling her hair up off her neck. Decades remained before hot flashes were an issue, but regardless, her body was a furnace at the moment.

  She turned the spigot on again, getting her hands wet to flick sprinkles of water on her chest and neck.

  The more she thought about Dev’s touch, his skilled lips working a moan from hers . . .

  Nope. That was not helping the redness of her skin.

  She turned her mind to the birthday song again and the obnoxious pop number played every ten minutes on the radio. Gradually, she simmered down to a low boil, safe enough to rejoin society.

  By the time she rounded the greenhouse, Dev was finishing up getting camellia bushes loaded onto an elderly couple’s truck.

  Will flashed her a quick grin, like he knew exactly what the two of them had been up to behind the greenhouse.

  Behind the greenhouse, for crying out loud. She ought to be ashamed, but . . . she wasn’t.

  “All done. Thanks, man.” Will shook Dev’s hand, plucking at the wet shirt he’d put back on. “Since you helped, I won’t ask.”

  “Good. Don’t.” Dev turned to her. “We should probably head to the store now.”

  “Store?” He’d lost her.

  “For your groceries. You know, the reason you came with me today?”

  “Oh right. Groceries. That would . . . yes, let’s do that.”

  Will shook his head and waved goodbye. Dev opened the truck door for her, but the ride to the grocery store was quiet.

  “Thank you for remembering the store. I almost forgot.”

  “No problem.” His eyes were trained on the road.

  No joke, no glances, and not a single mention of their kiss.

  Had she done something wrong? Somehow between being putty in his hands and him hauling camellias, had she managed to screw things up?

  Water from the spigot dried on her skin, and goose bumps rose in the cool air. Had she been too forward? She’d been so certain of his mutual interest, but the possibility existed that she was flat-out wrong.

  How easily his silence made her question everything.

  They pulled up at a small grocery store, and he showed her around, helping her get enough items to keep her stocked over the next week or so. He was polite but distant.

  �
��We can come back whenever you need more. You don’t want to buy so much that it goes stale.”

  “Good point.” He was being helpful. That was at least a little promising.

  She’d known Devlin exactly one day. Twenty-four hours. In that time she’d flirted with him more than she’d flirted with any man in her entire life, maybe even if she combined them all.

  He caused a buzz beneath her skin. The kind of thing her therapist had talked about. Living in the moment. This was definitely a moment, and she’d kick herself if she’d ruined it.

  Back in the truck, more silence lurked as they wound their way up the mountain, until Dev cursed and jerked the wheel, pulling off onto a driveway she hadn’t even seen.

  He threw the truck into park and turned to her. “Look, I’m not one to dance around stuff. The whole strong, silent bullshit works for my brother, but for me all it does is make my eye twitch.”

  “Okay.”

  “That kiss was . . .” Instead of a word, he sighed, rough, with a look of pure pleasure dancing across his face.

  Thank god he felt it too.

  “Amazing?”

  “Yes. Amazing. But . . .”

  “But?”

  He dragged a hand through his hair, slicking it back. “You’re a guest. I’m not supposed to be attracted to you. Or—no, that’s not it. I can be attracted to you, but I’m not supposed to do anything about it.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Because I’m supposed to be celibate?” He threw his hand up. “That’s not true, I do know. Resort policy. Family reputation. Keeping things on the professional level. You know, like any other business.”

  Fair enough. Probably wasn’t very professional to be dilly-dallying with the guests, but surely it happened—at resorts and getaways all around the world. And she wasn’t going to cause a scene or make trouble.

  She could be the exception to the rule.

  “I sort of had a fling with a guest once—”

  Okay, so scratch being the exception to the rule.

  “—when I was about twenty years old and home for the summer.”

  That was years ago. College age. Sowing college oats didn’t count. They were both adults, fully capable of making responsibly ill-advised decisions.

  He glanced over. “I was a stupid kid. The rule was unofficial before that, but because of me it’s official now. Especially official for me.”

  Her insides twisted. Was he saying . . . ?

  “If my family finds out, or so much as thinks we’re doing things like kissing behind greenhouses, I’m screwed. If they find out you were even with me today, I’m screwed.”

  “But Will knows.”

  “Will isn’t going to say a word. Neither will Brenda, but on resort property, it’s different. I can’t . . . I can’t do what I did today.”

  But she liked what he did today.

  If there was an official policy against fraternizing with guests, that meant no interaction with Devlin except for harmless flirtations. Now that she’d kissed him, she didn’t want to go back to flirting with the idea of him. She wanted him.

  Her relaxing vacation suddenly stretched out before her, long and lonely and not relaxing in the least.

  All etiquette gone after partaking in their spigot bath, she threw out the truth. “Well, that sucks.”

  “I know.” He ran a hand over his hair again, tugging at the ends. “Maybe if we—”

  “What?” She jumped on his words.

  “Nothing. It’s a dumb idea. I’m a jerk for even thinking it.”

  “In advertising, there are no dumb ideas. Not when brainstorming. They’re simply unformed ideas. Let’s hear it.”

  He studied her for a moment, a smile tugging at the corner of those talented lips. “I was thinking . . . if no one knows I’m breaking a policy, is it really broken?”

  The idea ran around her brain. Questionable logic, but she liked it. “I don’t think so, no.”

  He tapped the steering wheel, a car passing them on its way up the mountain.

  “Maybe it’s like me helping you move the plants. I participated of my own free will, we had a mutual understanding, no one was hurt, and no one has to know.”

  His tapping ceased. “And we’re . . . okay with that?”

  We meaning she. Was she okay with them sneaking around and kissing behind greenhouses, the possibility for more pretty evident, yet keeping it quiet? “I am perfectly okay with that kind of arrangement if you are.”

  Dev didn’t answer right away. He twisted his grip on the steering wheel, and put the truck in reverse, pulling back onto the road. As they took the turn for the resort’s long driveway, he finally answered. “I’m okay too. I’m not well-behaved enough to follow policy anyway.”

  He parked the truck and trailer alongside the inn. “I have maybe a minute or two before Sophie starts blowing up my phone about wanting these plants hung and in place. Tomorrow though, I’m free after noon. I want to take you to lunch. As a thank-you for today, like Brenda suggested.”

  “Doesn’t miss a beat, that Brenda.”

  “Told you.”

  “Lunch sounds wonderful.”

  “Somewhere away from the resort and town. I’ll meet you around twelve thirty.” He glanced around, but no one had walked down this side of the inn since they parked. “You know, even if I’d gotten busted for you working with me today, any trouble I got into would be worth it. Especially the cleanup after. I had a great time.”

  Heat touched her neck as she fidgeted with her hair to cover it. “I did too.”

  “Why do you try to hide when your neck flushes?”

  Anna gawked. “You’ve noticed?”

  “It’s kind of hard not to.”

  “Oh my god.” She leaned forward so her hair fell around her face, hiding her.

  “No.” He touched her shoulder, trying to make her sit up. “You shouldn’t hide. I think it’s cute.”

  “Cute?” she asked from the safety of her hair. “It’s horrible. And so embarrassing.”

  “Shouldn’t be. I like it.”

  As she lifted her chin, her gaze locked with his. How could he ever find an oncoming case of hives-like spots, cute?

  Dev jumped, making her jump too.

  “Sorry, my phone went off.” He dug it out of his pocket. “It’s Sophie. I better let her know I’m back. And make her and Trev help me with these plants. Can you manage your groceries okay?”

  She had a whopping three bags total. “I think I’ll be fine.”

  “Tomorrow, then?”

  Her pulse did a giddy hop-step. “Tomorrow.”

  Chapter 8

  Dev sat outside, a few minutes after noon the next day, chilling on a bench, as his sister ran around the front of the resort like a lunatic. Her fiery red hair flew out behind her as she chased a big, brown mop of a dog toward the portico.

  He was to meet Anna in a bit, and defy the family policy on fraternizing with guests. Friendly small talk was fine, but he and Anna had already gone way beyond that.

  His concern wasn’t so much about anyone finding out. He had a ton of practice at being sneaky, but in doing so, he was falling into an old habit. Years had gone by since he’d kept anything from his family, but he couldn’t tell them about Anna.

  Roark would pop a vessel, and Sophie would worry while simultaneously giving him hell about it.

  Being circumspect was the right thing to do, and Anna was worth it.

  She might look like polish and shine on the outside, but beneath all that was a river of depths and details he wanted to chart and understand.

  She’d laughed good-naturedly about him falling on her, instead of making him feel like even more of an ass. Rather than expect an expensive date or leave their interaction at frivolous flirtations, she’d jumped at the chance to help him with grunt work, and enjoyed it. She’d told him about the time she ran away from home too, just so he wouldn’t feel awkward about Brenda’s story.

  The only peopl
e he knew who’d do that for him were his family. And they were all crazy anyway.

  “Damn dog.” Sophie stopped, panting to catch her breath.

  For a solid five minutes, she’d chased Trevor’s dog, Beau. The most futile act imaginable, especially when the air was crisp and cool. The dog was on a canine high. Best to let him wear down.

  “You need to stop running after him, and sit down.”

  Sophie threw her hands up in the air. “How will I catch him if I’m sitting down?”

  “Beau runs because you’re running. Getting you to act like a lunatic is his favorite thing.”

  “Beau! Dang it!” She shouted at him as he ran by.

  “Would you get over here and sit down?”

  Sophie plopped next to him, crossing her arms and legs in a huff.

  Dev patted her head, to annoy her, and she jerked away, cutting him a look. “You’re the one who let him off his leash.”

  “Because he doesn’t run from me. He’ll be over in a minute. And if that doesn’t work, I’ve requested the secret weapon.”

  “What’s the secret weapon?”

  “If I tell you, how is it a secret?”

  Sophie donkey-punched him in the top of the thigh, laughing as he winced and grabbed his leg.

  At the ruckus, Beau stopped in front of them, paws planted wide, tail in a frantic wag, and then he took off in a brown blur.

  “That dog, I swear to god. He acts like my best buddy inside, but I try to take him out and—” She flung her hands out toward the dog as he ran around the portico twice.

  “That’s because you are his buddy. He wants to have fun. He thinks you’re playing, which is a lot better than obeying.”

  They sat there another couple of minutes, but Beau never tired or slowed down. Luckily, Dev had texted Wright about the secret weapon as soon as he saw the dog on the loose.

  “Here you go.” Wright joined them a moment later, a folded paper towel in his hands like he was presenting a crown.

  Sophie stood. “Is that the secret weapon?”

  “If by secret weapon you mean bacon, then yes, it’s a secret weapon.”

  Dev took the paper towel from his friend, unfolding so Beau would catch a whiff.

  “Did you let him off the leash again?” Wright smiled down at Sophie.

  “You can both bite me.” She snatched a piece of bacon off the paper towel and walked out onto the driveway, dangling the bacon between two fingers, her head on a swivel in search of the dog.

 

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