The woman still didn’t believe they could be married. The look the redhead centered on her bore a distinct resemblance to loathing. As Nyssa tuned into the direction of the woman’s gaze, she realized her clothing had been torn during her treck from the airstrip to the cabin.
Fool, she berated herself. No wonder he thought she was cold. But when she looked back to meet Solo’s gaze, she saw concern and desire.
Nyssa wasn’t sure where to go from here. She felt her earlier confidence slip under Solo’s intense scrutiny. All of a sudden she understood this was still an act, nothing more. She was his buddy--nothing more. She got hold of her emotions, knowing full-well that all would change after they persuaded the woman to leave.
Their relationship would return to its usual hum-drum normalcy. Buddies.
“I know you’re not married.” This time the female punctuated each word with a little stamp of her foot.
Nyssa had never been a good liar and now faced with the truth of the situation, she wilted with embarrassment. She caught hold of Solo’s arm, and braced herself for the next barrage of accusations.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Solo moved a little so she could lean more firmly against him. His body hot and warm against the length of her represented security and safety when all she wanted to do was hide. “You should leave.”
Solo’s warm blue eyes danced with tenderness as he murmured. “Now,” and pulled Nyssa closer.
“Well, I’ll tell the world.” The woman huffed as she slammed the front door behind her.
“Be my guest,” Solo said.
***
“There will be repercussions,” Nyssa said.
“Nothing we can’t handle.”
Mesmerized, Nyssa found she couldn’t move away from him or the intensity of his gaze. Lost in expectations and images she’d fantasized, Nyssa let herself be pulled toward him because today might be the one opportunity to learn the texture, the feel of his lips against hers.
His mouth did capture hers. Heaven, the kiss was pure delight, all she’d ever imagined, hot and hard, demanding a response. He kissed her as if he cared for her. Her hands slipped up his arms and around his neck, pulling him closer.
She fleetingly thought to push him away but chose not to when he slanted his mouth across hers. Her lips parted, letting him deepen the kiss, reveling in the swift rise of passion.
When he bent her backward, his hands caressed and tantalized. Nyssa forgot her plans for the future. She gave in to the precious moments she’d never have again, and allowed Solo St. John to kiss her senseless.
His muscles tensed and flexed beneath her fingertips, and she wanted to know more of him, needed to unbutton the soft flannel shirt he wore then run her finger across his chest. If this went on any longer, she’d have him down on the rug in front of the fireplace, and there would be nothing between them, not even air.
He dipped his tongue deeper, slid his hands down to her hips, and pulled her closer, fitting her against him. He groaned, a low husky sound that sent her mind spinning with the incredible power she realized she held over him.
The door creaked open. “The photographers will be here by tomorrow, count on it.” The redhead snapped a picture of them with her tiny digital camera. “I’m not about to lose out on everything.”
The sound of the door banging closed again penetrated Nyssa’s foggy mind, and she pushed on Solo’s chest. A picture. Robert.
No. Had she forgotten who she was with? Who she wasn’t with? Impending doom swept through her yet no feelings of guilt followed. Embarrassment yes, because she was attacking Solo--the man who claimed ardently they were buddies.
But his reaction toward her had changed too. Perhaps he responded to every woman who threw herself at him.
No. When she first saw him through the window on the door, he’d been trying to untangle himself from the redhead.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
Solo released her slowly, looking at her in a different light. He wondered why he was so suddenly and so hotly attracted to Nyssa Harrington. Then he set his hands on her shoulders further distancing himself, yet unwilling to break all physical contact. Forcing a smile, he reminded himself this was Nyssa, his friend and confidant, not a plaything. He told himself he was a louse for taking advantage of her good nature. She deserved better. With great effort, he willed his breathing back to a slower cadence.
“This won’t happen again,” he said.
The sound of spinning tires in loose dirt pressed home the point they needn’t continue the charade. Nyssa stepped back visibly shaken by the encounter, and he wondered which bothered her the most, the kiss or the words the redhead threw at them. He squeezed her hand and let go. It wasn’t right, she was engaged and here he was like a lovesick school boy kissing her. What the hell was he thinking?
Oh, he knew why he kissed her. For the first time in their long history together, he saw her as a woman, not a pal, and he wanted to find out how she felt in his arms. But why had she kissed him back? Kissed him, like she wanted nothing more than to melt into him, give her whole heart to him.
The redhead’s photographs would be spread all over the latest tabloid as well as the internet within twenty-four hours. For Nyssa’s sake he hoped old Robert didn’t pay attention to the paparazzi. If he did, he was in for an eyeful.
Her reaction to all this was bound to set in soon, if it hadn’t already. Nyssa’s eyes were huge, slightly unfocused, and they began to shimmer with moisture.
“Photographs?” She looked unsteady, appearing as if she’d crumble at any moment.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“How?”
Oh, hell. He didn’t have any idea. All he had in working order was his cell and he was sure his grandfather would take delight in this new development. The Colonel was not above a little, even a lot of scandal if it meant he’d get his way.
And, Solo admitted, albeit reluctantly, he’d never forget that kiss. Not in a million years.
“The Colonel--he’ll stop the pictures.”
Nyssa gave a desperate laugh. “Robert will have a fit when he sees this. The tabloids won’t be fair to him. It will be all over the internet.”
“He won’t see the picture.”
“You can’t know that.”
Her lashes were lowered in a feeble attempt to hide her expression. He wanted to know what she felt, what hurt so he could heal the wound. So he could protect her from the onslaught of the media. He didn’t want to admit he was lying, that there was no way in hell he could stop the pictures.
“I should apologize. I didn’t think.”
He could see how awful she felt, and the need to reassure her was instantaneous. A soft half-smile formed on his lips. “I bet you never kissed old Robert like that.”
“Sure. Make fun of me.” Looking self-conscious, she fiddled with a tear on her shirt. Suddenly she seemed to snap out of the depression she’d been in since the redhead left. “That’s playing dirty, Solo. What makes you think Robert can’t kiss as well as you? And you know what? You had a lot of nerve dragging me all the way out here to help you with research. Seems to me that lady knows her way around the bedroom and cameras and by this time tomorrow you’ll have a whole crew at your disposal. So why did you need me?”
He shrugged and tried to stifle the helpless expression he knew he couldn’t hide from her. “I could hardly use force. I tried every way I knew how to persuade them to leave.”
“The redhead wasn’t the first?”
“God, no. There’s been so many I’ve lost count. Every one said either the article or grandfather sent them.”
“Well, they all fit the description, didn’t they? Eager to jump into your bed.”
Nyssa blushed again. Solo grinned, liking that particular shade. He wondered what else would make her blush.
Then he caught himself, berating his body and his mind for their treacherous reactions to one kiss and his own eagerness to get her into his bed. Nyssa deserve
d better from him.
Meanwhile, Nyssa walked out the door and he knew he had to stop her. Just because the redhead was gone didn’t mean he could carry on without Nyssa. He heaved a relieved sigh when she came back with her shoulder bag and plopped it on the floor.
“Where is my bedroom?” she asked then realized the implications of the small cabin and colored again.
He might as well give up any ideas of controlling his body. Every time she spoke she blushed and that started his brain waves working overtime. Bedroom conjured all kinds of images he’d rather ignore.
Solo reached for the bottle of wine and poured himself a full glass. He drank half before he realized Nyssa wasn’t paying any attention to him and his overheated looks. After another gulp, he pointed her in the right direction. “There is only one bedroom. I’ll take the loft. I’ve been using it as an office. It’ll do fine as a bedroom too.”
Halfway to her room Nyssa stopped. “I understand your grandfather’s need to have an heir, but isn't this going a bit far? He’s infringed on your work, your reputation. He should know you could never be forced into marriage. A man who looks like you and has your intelligence doesn’t need interference.”
That shocked him. He knew he attracted women like bees to honey but Nyssa had never acted like one of the bees. “You like the way I look? I thought you were only interested in my IQ and my expertise with mechanical things.”
“That’s not fair. I’m not that shallow. There’s a lot about you I like. I just never told you because I didn’t want to add to the size of your ego.”
“Nyssa.”
“I’m--” But she never had a chance to finish the statement because the door burst open again and Colonel St. John stood bold-as-you-please in the middle of the opening. His broad shoulders nearly filled the gap.
“No.” Nyssa sounded a little breathless.
“My, my, my.” Colonel St. John grinned, don’t look so guilty. "It makes me feel like I interrupted something intimate."
Solo had to give him credit, the Colonel could still make an entrance that would outdo any Texas twister.
“So you found an assistant. But this one doesn’t have any experience does she? I thought you were looking for professional girls.”
Nyssa paled under the Colonel’s blatant and degrading scrutiny. After all, she’d acted as Solo’s assistant more times than she’d wanted to remember. And just what did he mean by professional?
“Hang tough, Nyssa,” Solo muttered into her ear. “He doesn’t mean half of what he says. You know how he rambles on.”
Since Solo was aware these two people, however dear the both of them were to him, did not get along, he attempted diversion tactics. His good old buddy needed to retreat to the trenches and gather a little stubborn determination. At least enough resolve she wouldn’t cringe every time his grandfather adjusted his bifocals.
“Nyssa, why don’t you get settled in? Maybe freshen up a bit.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
He chuckled softly at that line. If he knew Nyssa, she’d take as much time to get changed and settled in as she could. She’d never gotten along very well with his grandfather. The situation grew worse with her job on Wall Street. The kindest word Colonel St. John had for her after that was hmph.”
“Not your type. Not your type at all.” The Colonel rubbed his chin and sauntered farther into the room, checking out every nook and cranny.
Fine. If the Colonel stuck around, he could tell his grandfather what he thought of the deceitful tactics he used.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I stopped taking orders from you long ago, and I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”
“Don’t be rude, son.”
“Rude?” Didn’t his grandfather have any concept of what the last few days had been like for him? Rude? The Colonel had the audacity to call him rude.
“You know this will be on the front page of the tabloids.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“No, I wanted you to pick out one of the beautiful creatures that have haunted your doorstep and get married. Then hopefully in the right order, I’d have a grandson, an heir to my empire. Now you’ve ruined my plans.”
“Ruined?” Somehow his grandfather had reduced him to one liners and he knew he had to snap out of it soon. That’s enough,” Solo said. “Although it’s none of your concern, Nyssa’s the most willing, eager, and able female I’ve ever met. The question now is whether or not she’s willing to put up with me.”
“She’s not good enough for you. She fled New York under strange conditions. It doesn’t bode well.”
“You shouldn’t repeat gossip. You and I both know she didn’t run away from her work,” Solo said.
“Then what happened?”
“She wouldn't tell me.”
“Of course not. Why do you think she was so eager to follow you out here? She wanted to get her hooks into your money before you found out how unsuitable she was.”
When Solo looked up, Nyssa stood in the doorway of the bedroom his robe wrapped around her. She wavered then supported herself against the doorframe.
“Excuse me.” Beside Nyssa in two quick strides, Solo ushered her into the bedroom and to the bed.
She didn’t resist and he groaned when the door clicked shut, realizing belatedly the implications that little maneuver had.
“I thought you were going to put on something decent,” he said through gritted teeth, trying not to look at her. The huge robe gaped open and he caught a good view of a lacy little black bra she had on beneath the robe. He teetered between heaven and hell. “I can’t believe you wear this stuff, Nyssa.” He cleared a throat that had gone dry and wondered how on earth he had failed to notice the state of her undress when she first stepped into his living room.
That was the crux of the matter. He’d kissed her, fantasized about her, and now he knew how absolutely sexy she was.
Nyssa jerked the robe together. With a sinking feeling, he knew he was facing one of the biggest challenges of his life.
“I am decent. And what stuff are you referring to?”
“Your underwear. I mean.” He felt trapped again, helpless. He didn’t know how to extricate his foot from his mouth.
“You have more double standards than anyone I know. What do you think I should wear?” She pulled the robe tighter. “Is that better?”
God, no. “I didn’t mean to imply--”
“Why are you going on about this? You’ve seen underwear and women wearing that underwear before. I was decent until I tried to find my way to your cabin unescorted. This is all your fault.”
“My fault.”
“I was in a hurry to come to your rescue.”
“And you pulled that off without a glitch.” What did she think? That he could look at her decked out in black lace and not fantasize about taking it off her? “But when I sent you in to change, you waltzed back into the room wearing nothing...”
“Nothing?” she question. “I never wear nothing.”
He grinned, his smile widening. “Never? It would be very easy to change that.” His gaze traveled a slow quest over her, his imagination working overtime.
Safari Moon Page 7
