Ben slashed a hand in front of himself. "No," he said, "not at all. At all, Allison," he added when her mouth flat-lined.
"Oh, good," she answered. "So you're okay with the woman who was foisted on you against your will."
If he'd been on the battlefield, he might have sounded the retreat in the face of her expression. Warning lights flashed in his mind.
Proceed with caution.
"Look, I saw you at your party. You weren't too thrilled with me, and I knew from looking at you that—" He broke off a moment too late, kicking himself for taking that path.
Allison latched on to his mistake. "That what? Exactly."
Shit.
"I didn't know you, okay? You struck me as. . ." He was digging the hole deeper, he knew it, but he couldn't seem to stop the words. "As a bit. . . high maintenance, which isn't really, you know, my usual type. Gorgeous, clearly, but—"
"High maintenance."
Ben waved his hand down her length, disregarding the ice crackling in her voice and the warning lights shooting to DEFCON-one in his head. "Look at yourself. You're a princess if I ever saw one. Princesses aren't low maintenance. It's in the rule book."
"And you don't do high maintenance."
"I don't—it was just. . ." Crap. "First impression, okay? Stupid. You formed one of me. How accurate were you?"
Nodding slowly, she scanned him up and down with those flashing eyes like burning blue flames, ready to incinerate him in a single burst of heat. "I thought you were a vagrant."
Ouch. Okay. "Exactly. We were both wrong, so we should just get past it. We wouldn't even be here if Sally hadn't coerced me into joining Cupid's—"
"I see," she said, cutting him off through lips as tightly compressed as her eyes. "You're letting a woman you haven't seen in years run your love life and make all your decisions because you're either too chicken or too lazy to do it yourself, is that it?"
Chicken was woman-speak for pussy, he knew that much. Damn it.
"I—"
"Did she help you play dress-up, too?" she continued. "Get you all spiffed up?"
That cut a little too close to home. He'd meant Sally's interference to be a good thing—saving them from their preconceived notions so they'd have a chance to get to know each other when they probably wouldn't have otherwise. Allison had turned it all around on him, and never mind that he hadn't intended to pursue getting to know her any further. That kiss had changed everything.
Raking his hands through his hair, Ben sought a way to get back on track, but Allison was picking up steam.
Waggling her manicured thumb between the two of them, she said, "How did this even happen? How did you get to me? How—"
Pacing now, head down, she muttered to herself, words he couldn't quite make out. Probably a good thing, he decided. He doubted they were complimentary, but damn, she looked good mad. Every line of her slender body crackled with energy. Angry color brought a glow to her cheeks. Her sapphire eyes flashed like blazing blue diamonds, striking sparks everywhere her gaze touched and singeing holes in his protective shell.
"Allison—"
Whirling to face him mid-stride, she gave a laugh that sounded a lot like the predatory growl of that jungle cat she'd reminded him of. When she spoke, her luscious lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl.
"DeeDee forwarded your profile to me. I chose you. How the hell did you manage that? What, did you pay her to put you in my queue?"
Offended, Ben opened his mouth to deny that charge, at least, but she tossed up her hand like an overzealous traffic cop.
"No, I forgot. You wouldn't have picked a princess like me."
Ben hunched his shoulders. She was angry, yes, but there was a shadow of hurt beneath her words. He'd never intended to wound her.
"Did DeeDee and Sally cook this up somehow? Did—"
"Look," Ben interrupted. He needed to cut her off before this got any more out of hand. "Sally got it into her head that I needed your friend's business to start meeting people again. I had no idea Dee would send my profile to you, and I have no idea why she did. Sally had nothing to do with it, but since she was the one who responded when you selected me, she obviously knew who I was meeting today." And he'd give his darling, interfering cousin a healthy piece of his mind about that as soon as he got home. Right before he thanked her. "That's the sum total of the entire deal. What we make of it from here is on us."
"What we make of it."
She gave a short burst of a laugh with bitterness layered under it, but that was his tipping point. A stupid misunderstanding was not going to keep him from getting to know this woman, and whatever ideas he'd had before, damn it, he wanted to get to know her now. She was a high maintenance princess, no doubt about it, but maybe he'd discover he liked princesses after all. He was determined to find out. When she opened her mouth to speak again, he grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her up to her royal tiptoes.
Eye to glaring eye, he said, "Yeah," and dove in.
This was no testing kiss, no gentle taste, but a possession. He forced her lips open with his tongue and ravished her mouth, slanting his lips across hers for deeper penetration. His hands clutched the length of her hair, anchoring her, then smoothed down the curve of her back, molding her body against him. Sizzling heat fired his blood, but he focused on her, bringing all of his rusty skills, all of his frustrations, all of the new, uncomfortable feelings she raised in him to the fore.
Their first kiss had been heavenly, a cautious introduction. A sweet prelude to darker desires he'd kept a tight rein on, not wanting to scare her away and not yet ready to give in to his own passion. This time he eased off the choke chain. Just a little. Just enough to let her know who she was dealing with and what he wanted from her. And he wanted all.
First time out of the gate? Come on, Ben, what are the odds? Yet the twist in his gut told him she was far more than he'd first given her credit for. That she was someone special.
It was too soon, he knew it, but common sense didn't seem to matter. Before much longer he would have her quivering beneath him. After six years of near celibacy, it was too much to believe that he could have found his mate on the first try, but he wasn't about to question the gifts of Fate. Fate owed him. If she was meant to be his, he was ready to find out. And collect.
Her body, so rigid only moments before, softened against him, and her mouth gave. Surrendered. He gentled the kiss in response, a leisurely taste now, supping on the sweetness of her lips. Her hair tickled his cheek and her hands, caught between them, splayed across his chest, then flexed over his pecs. The heat of her slender body, the scent and feel of her raised goose bumps along his flesh.
Inside, something settled, even as his pulse continued to pound.
Just when all echoes of their argument had drained out of his head, just when his thoughts clicked off and his body shifted into pure sensation, she stiffened in his arms, snapping the thread of mindless passion wrapping around his brain.
Damn it.
He was easily strong enough to contain her, to keep her there and kiss her back into submission. But her resistance had registered. He had to stop.
Dropping his hands, breathing hard, Ben let her go, barely feeling it when she pushed against his shoulders.
Allison crossed her arms over her chest, her lips swollen from his, her wild hair disheveled, but her gaze stayed level. Her eyes said she was tough, in control, but her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breaths and gave her away. The pulse in her throat beat hard beneath her alabaster skin.
She said, "Well."
Well, indeed.
He wanted to suck on that heavy, pounding beat, to nibble his way up her neck. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from sweeping her up again, gobbling her down in one luscious bite. But she was a smart, determined woman. He respected her spirit, her fire. He would take his time. That spirit would make her willing surrender even more precious.
Cars streamed past the parking lot—too loud, to
o aggressive, too fast, as always in California—and seagulls called overhead, but the silence between them lengthened, spiked with sexual tension. Despite the doubts he saw reflected in Allison's blue eyes, he cared a little too much whether she'd agree to see him again or choose to call it quits before they had a chance to discover each other beyond this first date.
"I want to call you, Allison."
She shivered visibly but didn't drop her gaze. Reaching out, he tucked a stray strand of her brilliant hair behind her ear, enjoying it when her pulse kicked at the base of her throat.
"I don't care how we got here," he said. "I don't care if you're the leader of the princess coalition for the entire world, hell, the whole galaxy. I don't care that we just met an hour ago. I want to get to know you, and I want to kiss you again. A lot. Say yes."
He was starting to get used to the assessing way she looked at him, obviously thinking over everything he'd said. He wasn't sure he cared for his every word being weighed and measured, but he'd deal with it, as long as she agreed.
"Y-yes," she said finally, her breaths still panting lightly. "Okay. Okay, but—I have to go. For now. I have a. . ." Breaking off, she cleared her throat. "I have to go. If you—if we. . . Well. We'll see. All right?"
Without waiting for his response, Allison pushed by him and climbed into her car. She backed straight out, missing his bumper by a wish and a prayer, then shot out of the parking lot as though a pack of rabid coyotes howled on her tail.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Cursing steadily, Allison headed south toward Newport Beach. Mia usually worked from home on Friday afternoons, and Allison needed her ears. And her hugs. Mia's hugs were famous for a reason.
Traffic surged around her, but she ignored the honking, swerving mass of humanity. She drove by rote, her thoughts focused inward in a tumbling rush of images.
Had she really just run from a man? How humiliating. Heat stole into her cheeks and crawled along her skin. Stumbling over her words and bolting like a frightened jackrabbit was so not her usual style. She couldn't think of another instance in her entire twenty-five-year history when a man of any age had discombobulated her senses or emotions so thoroughly.
Well, with the possible exception of one terrifying college professor with a heavy Russian accent and mean black eyes, but even Derrick had been unnerved by that guy.
This was different.
God, that kiss. Lights had literally flashed behind her closed lids, and she couldn't be sure she hadn't done the corny movie-kiss thing and popped her foot up in stunned reaction. Just thinking about his lips caressing hers had shivers coursing over her body and spiraling tingles racing to her core. Pressing a hand low on her belly, she took a deep, shaky breath. Wow. Wow-wow-wow.
Arriving at Mia's, most of the drive a blur in her mind, Allison threw the car in park and practically ran to the front door. She gave only a cursory knock before letting herself in with her key, calling Mia's name at the top of her lungs.
"I'm up here," Mia hollered from the depths of her tiny, oceanfront condo, "hang on."
Not willing to wait, Allison bolted up the narrow stairs and hurtled into Mia's sunny blue-and-yellow bedroom where her friend was just rising from the chair in front of her laptop.
"What is it?" Mia asked, alarm in her eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Hug," Allison said, and Mia flung her arms wide, wrapping them around Allison as soon as she burrowed in.
Mia held her tightly, not letting go until Allison gave her one more squeeze and stepped away, comforted and steady once again. That was one of the many great things about Mia. She'd hug it out forever if someone needed. She never rushed through an embrace.
Already feeling better, Allison grinned sheepishly at the concern on Mia's face. "I'm okay," she said before Mia could ask, "but can we talk?"
Studying her, a tiny frown on her forehead, Mia nodded. "Of course. Snacks first?"
"Do you have any more of those chocolate-covered cherries?"
Flushing, Mia made a face, her green eyes sparkling with self-deprecating mirth. "I don't actually know. I haven't been able to find the box since you put it away last September."
Despite her mood, Allison swallowed a laugh. She'd wrestled a box of the candies out of Mia's grasp after her last bad breakup, right before Mia and Derrick started dating, and had hidden them on an upper shelf in her friend's kitchen. Evidently, she'd hidden them well.
"Okay, then," Allison said over her shoulder, preceding Mia down the stairs and heading straight for the kitchen cupboard above her friend's refrigerator. Rummaging behind the extra candles and lanterns Mia stored in there for power outages, Allison gave a victory yell when her fingers clamped around the box of treats.
Fifteen minutes later, they sat cross-legged and facing each other from either end of Mia's bright red couch. Mia had arranged the necessities for tea and the mandatory sweets on a tray placed within easy reach on the coffee table.
Beyond the family room's large picture-window, the leaden sea foamed along the shore, a darker shade of grey than the gloomy sky. Each wave's crashing boom formed a soothing counterpoint to Allison's jangling nerves. She took a deep breath and allowed the comfort of her friend's home and the gorgeous view to wash over her in a familiar tide.
Taking a cherry by the stem, she twirled it before popping it in her mouth. Then popped it right back out into a napkin she snatched hastily from the tea tray.
"Bleh," she said, making a face. "These are stale."
Mia narrowed her eyes. "That's what you get for hiding them so well."
"Mia!"
Laughing, Mia said, "Fine, hang on."
Going to the sideboard in the attached dining room, she dug in the top drawer and came up with a box of chocolate-covered caramels. She tossed them to Allison, then flopped back into position on the couch.
"Now," Mia said. "Tell me everything."
It came out in a flood—her New Year's party sighting of Ben, Cupid's Cavalry, the lunch. Realizing who he was, then the silly misunderstanding over how they'd even wound up together on their date. That second kiss.
"Whew!" Mia said, but Allison kept talking.
Firing up over the princess comment all over again, her hands gesturing wildly, she stopped mid-sentence at the raised-eyebrow on Mia's face.
"What?" she asked, frowning.
"Well, you are a princess," Mia said with a shrug. "You're The Princess."
"Huh," Allison said, pointing first to Mia, then herself. "Pot, kettle."
"Regardless, you can hardly blame him for the observation."
"It wasn't the observation so much as the way he said it." Still, she subsided grumpily, rubbing at an invisible spot on the black knee of her jeans.
Mia's hand covered hers in a soothing pat. "Continue."
When Allison got to the part about Ben losing first his parents, then his wife and child—stories she'd heard several times from Sally over the years—Mia's eyes filled with tears.
"Poor man," she murmured.
Nodding, Allison studied her hands, twisted around the teacup. How to explain the rest? The chaotic emotions, the feeling that he was The One? It sounded so ridiculous, even in her own head, she couldn't possibly say it out loud.
"That pretty much sums it up," Allison said finally, winding down. She sipped her tea and brooded over the delicate cup.
"Did you talk to DeeDee about him?"
"I called her on the way here. She said she liked him when he came in. Like, really liked him." Allison rubbed a finger over the ache in her temple. "Since he struck her as too serious for my usual type, and she approved of that, she sent his profile. She's been trying to wean me away from the playboys. She's always lecturing."
"Good," Mia said, surprising Allison.
"Why?"
Shifting, Mia ducked her head, a clear sign she'd said something she wished she hadn't. "I just. . . You sell yourself short with all those boy toys, Alli. I know, I know, you're having fun and blah blah," she said,
waving away any objections Allison might make. "A couple months ago, I might have believed you. But I know you, and all that playing around has been taking a toll on you lately."
Allison dropped her gaze. A few months ago, she'd surprised the then anti-love Mia by admitting she—the ultimate party girl—did indeed believe in forever, she just hadn't found it yet. Wasn't ready for it yet, she reminded herself, even with Ben's image staring her in the face.
But Mia had always scoffed along with her over her family's soul-mate superstition, never realizing Allison harbored some deeply buried hopes and beliefs on that score.
She hadn't realized Mia—or Dee, for that matter—had picked up on her occasional loneliness. Her shield must be thinning.
"That's what DeeDee said," she admitted. "No ulterior motives, other than wanting me to find Mr. Right instead of Mr. Right Enough For Now. At least, none she's copping to, but I believed her."
Needing to move, Allison set the tea down and jumped to her feet, striding the narrow confines of the room in her stockings, her arms wrapped around herself. Nervous tension rode her shoulders up to her ears and knotted the muscles lining her spine.
Mia drew her knees up and rested her hands on them, watching Allison pace, holding her silence.
This shouldn't be such a big deal. He was an appealing, healthy, single man. She was attracted to him. It didn't have to be anything more than that. But. . .
"I'm sorry," Mia said finally, breaking into her thoughts, "but I don't really understand why you're so upset. You worked out the misunderstanding, which was a lot of nothing, really. He likes you, you like him. What's the problem?"
"That's just it!" Allison said, pulling on the length of her hair in frustration. "We've known each other basically an hour, but there's already all this angst and emotion going on, it's—"
"Early."
"I know," Allison said, wanting to pull her own hair out by the roots. "But. . ." Breaking off with a sigh, she stared out the window for a moment, not really seeing the rippling waves, the palm trees and burnt-sugar sand. Ben's face swam before her eyes instead, and something deep inside clutched.
"I've never seen you this way over a guy, let alone one you just met."
Cupid's Mistake Page 6
