Addicted to You

by Bethany Kane

  He stepped forward and caught her as she swung back toward him. He brought her against him with one arm around her waist.

  “Shhhh,” he murmured, his lips against her neck. His hand moved between her thighs. Sunlight warmed her forehead and her body sang beneath his touch. He kissed her parted lips when she shuddered in climax a moment later, swallowing her sharp cries of pleasure.

  “You make me crazy, Katie,” he said as they clung together and her muscles turned to soft, heated mush.

  She ran her sensitive lips against his whiskered jaw and spoke next to his neck.

  “And you make me sane.”

  Twenty-one

  A week and a half later Katie pulled into the drive in front of the Mitchell place, only to see that Rill’s car was gone, but another sat in its place. She heaved a sigh of disappointment. She’d been looking forward to seeing Rill after a long day of running Errol to rehab and meeting with the director of the county community center. She’d been offered the job Monty had mentioned. While Katie was still flush from her success, Jane Sacks, the director, had surprised her by immediately sending her on her first assignment.

  And what an assignment. She’d gotten lost in the wooded hills searching for a woman most of the locals knew merely as the chinchilla lady. The chinchilla lady, whose real name was Lila Raschamack, lived all alone on a chinchilla farm, which she’d inherited from her husband.

  The chinchilla lady had welcomed Katie to her ramshackle farm with a soggy cigar hanging from her mouth and a loaded shotgun in her hands.

  Fortunately, Katie was used to dealing with crazy old coots; she’d had her share of them in visiting Hollywood mansions. Movie stars were nearly as idiosyncratic and loony as the people of Vulture’s Canyon.

  She’d eventually been able to convince the gun-toting Lila that she’d been sent by the county to help her with the compliance audit the federal government had sent her for the sale of some of her chinchillas last year to a furrier. After some investigation of the circumstances, Katie thought she could make a good case to the IRS given the costs associated with raising the livestock. Lila had been so pleased with the news, she’d offered Katie one of her cigars and took her out into her backyard to show her the spectacular vista of the sun setting in the deep canyon.

  Katie had turned down the cigar, but she’d been strangely pleased by the offer. That and the blessed fresh air she’d been able to inhale after leaving the revolting-smelling barn where Lila kept the chinchillas.

  Miles Fordham got out of his car and started across the parking space toward her Maserati. What is he doing here? Katie thought sourly. She wasn’t in the mood for another tour of Miles’s dynasty. She thought she could still smell the sickening, intense musk exuded by the squirrel-like little creatures emanating from her sweater. She couldn’t get into the shower fast enough to wash her hair.

  Before Miles could reach her car, she snatched up the bag from the passenger seat and stuffed it into her purse. She’d had to make a special run to the pharmacy this morning while Errol was doing his rehab.

  “Where’ve you been hiding yourself?” Miles asked when she got out of her car and slammed the door.

  “Just now? Oh, I was dodging bullets at a rodent farm. What are you up to?”

  He laughed as though she’d just told a joke. He had a harried, distracted air about him, despite his mirth. Katie also noticed the usually perfect wave in his hair looked disheveled.

  “Something wrong, Miles?” Katie asked as she started to walk toward the front steps.

  “It’s the damn terrorists living in these woods.”

  Katie came to a halt, scattering gravel beneath her boots. “Terrorists?”

  “May as well be,” Miles commented, throwing her a dark look. “They took a couple shots through my living room window and vandalized the hotel and riverboat construction site last night. Set back our schedule by weeks. It’s nothing I can’t work past, though. These stupid hill people aren’t going to stop me or the opening of the riverboat.” He seemed to recover from his bout of bitterness. “It’s a nice evening. Thought you might like to join me at the club for dinner?”

  “Sorry, no,” Katie said in a friendly manner. She flung her bag over her shoulder and started for the house. “I’ve got a scalding shower in my future and then I’m going to make some salmon linguini.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “I’m making it for Rill,” Katie said point-blank as she paused on the stairs.

  Miles’s eyebrows went up in understanding. “Oh, I see. That’s the way of it, is it?”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  Miles’s scowl transformed into a smile. He shrugged good-naturedly. “Kind of hard to be a sore loser when you look so happy, Katie. You be sure to come find me if Pierce treats you badly, now.”

  Katie laughed despite the glimmer of anxiety that went through her at Miles’s words.

  Rill had been nothing but wonderful toward her for the past eleven days. He smiled so regularly Katie had almost forgotten his depressive gloom. He’d become so active in sprucing up the Mitchell place, Katie hardly recognized the old house.

  He spent at least six hours every day in front of his computer, writing. Sometimes she’d wake up in the middle of the night and see him at his desk, his fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard. She liked to watch him as he worked, but eventually she’d call his name. He’d turn and give her a smile, his air adorably distracted at first. Then his eyes would narrow as he focused on her and he’d rise and join her in bed.

  They didn’t seem capable of keeping their hands off each other. They teased each other and talked of inane, lover-like things. They ate excellent, healthy meals. Kate was inspired by all the good food offered at the co-op.

  Rill refused to let her read his screenplay, saying she could look at it when he’d made the final decision of whether—in his words, accent included—it was shite or not.

  He never spoke of Eden, and Katie was so ecstatic in their newfound relationship, reveling in the experience of being with the man with whom she’d fallen so deeply in love, she kept quiet on that topic as well. They’d joined in a silent pact not to bring up anything associated with Eden, and the knowledge of her own collusion in that little conspiracy rankled at Katie . . . especially when she considered what she’d just shoved inside her bag. She’d come to terms with her relationship with Rill with regard to Eden. She sensed that Eden would have wanted what was best for Rill, that she’d want him to get on with the business of living, and that included loving. Her collusion in the silence wasn’t because she was uncomfortable. She was just worried Rill thought the topic of Eden was too inflammatory to broach.

  “Rill isn’t going to treat me badly,” Katie told Miles with more confidence than she felt.

  “You know how these Hollywood types are.”

  “I know better than most people,” she countered swiftly.

  “Well, I can’t argue with that,” Miles said with a shrug that signified it was her own grave she was digging. “If you won’t come out on a date with me, can I at least ask a favor as a friend?”

  “What?” Katie asked. She didn’t consider herself a friend of Miles. In fact, her dislike of him had grown regularly as she’d completed Joe Jones’s tax return last week. Still, she couldn’t help but be curious about what he’d ask her.

  “Would you mind looking over a few things for me, businesswise? I have some questions I need answered, and the gaming commission is running my lawyers in circles up in Springfield. A representative from the gaming commission is going to be here soon to make a site visit, and I need to make sure all my ducks are in a row.”

  Katie started to make a polite refusal when something occurred to her. Going over Joe Jones’s bank statements—and inadvertenly, some of his daughter Amber’s—had pricked Katie’s curiosity in regard to Miles and some potentially shady dealings at the Forest River Country Club. It would probably be a mistake—her curiosity had certainly gotten her into troubl
e in the past—but the thought of Joe Jones with nearly nothing to his name but that disintegrating old mobile home got the better of her.

  “Sure, Miles. I’ll give you a couple hours, if you think it’ll help.”

  “You’re a godsend, Katie.”

  They agreed on a time and a place to meet the following morning. Katie was in a hot shower, scouring all traces of chinchillamusk residue from her skin and hair within two minutes of Miles walking away.

  She thought of telling Rill tonight about taking the job at the community center as she showered. Nervousness flickered in her belly at the prospect. He wouldn’t mind, would he?

  Would he be insulted? Would he patronize her?

  The fact of that matter was, taking on a job implied a state of permanence to her and Rill’s relationship that she wasn’t sure was at all justified.

  But the nervousness she experienced when she thought of telling Rill about her new job was nothing in comparison to what she felt when she reached into her purse ten minutes later and drew out what was in the bag from the pharmacy.

  “Rill’s going to kill me.”

  Her fingers felt rubbery with rising anxiety as she opened the box of the early home-pregnancy test.

  Twenty-two

  Rill had bought an antenna for the old television set and was finishing setting it up when Katie walked into the living room.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Katie murmured. “It’s a color TV.”

  Rill chuckled and fiddled with the channel dial. When he stood and Katie neared, he noticed her expression.

  “You okay?” he asked as he came down on the couch next to her. “You’ve seemed kind of out of it this evening.”

  “No, I’m fine. It’s just . . .”

  “What?”

  “We just figured out that old TV set shows color and you picked a black-and-white movie,” she said bemusedly.

  Rill laughed. Katie had always cracked him up, ever since he’d first known her. He was glad to know that giving free rein to his monumental lust for her hadn’t diminished his appreciation of her humor.

  He reached for her and pulled her against him. He buried his nose in fragrant gold waves. “It’s Hitchcock. You know I never pass on Hitchcock. Besides, I wasn’t really planning on spending much time watching TV,” he informed her. “Seems like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “It was just this morning,” she murmured as she stroked his shoulders and kissed his ear. His cock appreciated not only her actions but her delicious, clean scent. She’d just taken a shower when he’d come home earlier and she’d greeted him in the kitchen. Her long hair had been damp and she’d been wearing a soft-looking yellow and white short nightgown and robe. Her skin had been dewy-looking and her green eyes shone. He’d scowled when she’d casually mentioned Miles Fordham had been there earlier, nosing around.

  The guy was a fucking nuisance.

  Rill had wanted to haul Katie off to bed instantly, but he couldn’t without giving away his true identity as an asshole caveman since she’d made such a nice meal for them.

  She’d seemed distracted during dinner. Her preoccupation didn’t have anything to do with Fordham, did it? Surely not. Katie wasn’t stupid. She’d sidestepped his question about what was bothering her, but he really wanted to ask her about it again, and he would . . . if she stopped kissing him, that was.

  He picked up the end of a tendril and squashed a fat curl between his fingers. “Thanks for the dinner. You’re going to spoil me, you know.”

  “Have you ever been spoiled before?” Katie asked as she continued to kiss his ear and make him shiver.

  “Never.”

  “I refuse to believe that.”

  “I’m too contrary to be spoiled.”

  “You’ve got that straight,” she murmured wryly.

  She shifted her focus to his face, where she began to rain little kisses on his eyelids and cheeks. Her lips felt warm and soft when she finally landed on his mouth. For a few delicious seconds, he kissed her back, molding her lips to his languorously. Kissing Katie was like a sensual gateway drug . . . heady, intoxicating . . . making him crave the next high making love to her would give him.

  He groaned when she pressed her breasts against his chest. He steeled his restraint, something that was starting to be nearly impossible to do when it came to Katie. He became a rabid animal when he was in her presence.

  She looked miffed when he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back so he could see her face.

  “Something wrong?” he said gruffly.

  “What makes you ask that?”

  He shrugged. “I told you. You’ve seemed out of it all evening. Did something happen today?”

  He saw her swallow. “Not much. I got lost in the woods. A woman who raises chinchillas nearly shot me.”

  His eyes widened in amazement. “You ran into the chinchilla lady?”

  Katie nodded.

  “Getting fed up with Vulture’s Canyon?”

  “No,” she replied quickly. “In fact, this place is starting to grow on me. Are . . . are you? Getting fed up, I mean?”

  He picked up another curl and rubbed it between his fingers. His cock buzzed pleasantly at the sensual sensation. He wanted to bury himself in the wild mess of Katie’s hair.

  “I’m not feeling any need to go anywhere at the moment.” He met her eyes. “But I do wish you’d tell me whatever it is you’re hiding, Katie.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “What do you mean?” she squawked.

  “You’re hiding something,” he said levelly. He rolled his eyes when she looked outraged. “Unless Errol moves at the rate of an inchworm, I seriously doubt his rehab appointments last for most of the day. You’re gone all the time. I’m not upset about it; I’m just curious. What the hell are you doing during the day? I mean . . . this is Vulture’s Canyon. What is there to do?”

  She just stared at him openmouthed. He could almost hear her mind churning out the excuses.

  “Katie,” he warned softly.

  “Oh, all right. I’ve found a job.”

  “What?”

  “A job. You know, the thing you do to get money and pay the bills. Not all of us are multimillionaire film directors.” She threw him a dark glance, but he wasn’t buying her wounded act.

  “Explain, Katie.”

  She sat back and began to fidget with one of the couch pillows. He was confused by the way she wouldn’t look at him. Jaysus. What had Katie gone and done this time?

  “I . . . I took a job with the county working as a financial advisor for people in need.” She glanced at him nervously from beneath long lashes. “You know . . . like, helping people who can’t read file their taxes or giving financial information to people who are considering a land sale or something and can’t afford legal advice.” When he didn’t say anything because he was so busy trying to figure out why she was so anxious, she continued. “Monty told me about the job. They had just gotten a grant from the state to start the service. There are a lot of people in this county who are illiterate, or who might be pushed into doing something stupid thanks to coming into contact with people like Miles Fordham. It’s a much-needed service,” she added defensively.

  “I agree,” he replied, taken aback by her fierceness. “It sounds like the perfect job for you.”

  She gawked at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You . . . you think it sounds like the perfect job for me?” she asked shakily.

  He shrugged, becoming more bewildered by the moment. “Yeah. It’s a perfect fit. You can use your education, and you always wanted to do stuff for people in need. All those Junior League events you planned for different charities—”

  “I hated the Junior League,” she mumbled, although she didn’t seem much aware of what she was saying. She looked transfixed as she stared at him.

  “Yeah. You never fit very well with all those other girls. But you always wanted to help people, so—” Air po
pped out of his lungs when Katie threw herself against him. “What the . . . What’s this all about?” he asked, his confusion rising to concern when Katie started to kiss his jaw, cheeks and lips feverishly and he felt the dampness of her tears on his skin.

  “I love you, Rill Pierce,” she whispered in a pressured hiss before she covered his mouth. His mind churned with questions. He patted her back in a bid for her attention but with increasing feebleness as his blood started to boil. Kissing Katie was pure delight, but having Katie kiss him was like being hit by a Mack truck of lust.

  His arms closed around her and he submerged himself in her heat. He muttered a protest a moment later when she broke the kiss.

  “I thought you’d laugh at me.”

  It took him a second to process her meaning as he tried to make the difficult mental segue from horny beast to rational man.

  “Why would I laugh? Do you want the job?”

  “I really, really do,” she said.

  “Well, that’s great, then. Congratulations for getting it.” Something occurred to him. “Does this relate at all to why you were tangling with the chinchilla lady this afternoon?”

  She nodded. Her smile was infectious.

  “And . . . and you’re not upset that I took a job? In general, I mean,” she added, giving him a meaningful look that took him a moment to interpret. His smile faded. He paused before answering, trying to quiet his bout of horniness, because this was important. He chose his words with care.

  “I don’t have any claim on your life, Katie,” he said gruffly. When he saw her face fall, he cradled the side of her head. Her solemn expression tore at him. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m just saying that the reasons I came to Vulture’s Canyon are a world away from the reasons you did.”

  “I came here for you,” she whispered.

  “In part you did. I know that, and I’m grateful. Have I told you that? Well, I am. But you came here for yourself, too. You hated your job. I’m beginning to think you disliked your whole life.” She sniffed, and Rill used his thumb to wipe away a tear from her cheek. “You came here to find yourself, Katie. Me? I came here to get away from myself.”