Tired as he was, his eyes lit up and words poured out of him. Technical words that flew right past Lexi, but he was so obviously elated that she quit trying to understand him and just enjoyed watching him talk.
And she’d once thought his intelligence was only a trick of the photographer’s light.
“It’s a whole new way of looking at the tactile interface,” he said, winding down. “I don’t know why we hadn’t thought of it before. Now we’ve got to scramble to incorporate this new information into our end-of-the-year reports and grant applications. We’ve got hours of data. Your roommate must have been exhausted, but she never complained. I’ve got to tell you, I have a completely different impression of her now.”
“I’ll bet,” Lexi said, thinking of the picture.
Spencer must have been, too. “By the way, she’s become the team mascot. They’re blowing her picture up to poster size.”
“She’ll be thrilled,” Lexi said through clenched teeth.
“Anyway, we appreciate her help.”
“You ought to pick up a poinsettia for her.”
He gazed at her. “Hey.”
“What?” But Lexi knew her annoyance was showing.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Rip took me home.” She couldn’t resist adding, “You know, he’s a nice guy, but he tries to hide it. I enjoyed getting to know him a little bit.”
Spencer’s eyes flashed when she mentioned Rip. “But I would have kissed you good-night.”
It was a good thing she’d put the lid back on the coffee, because she would have ended up wearing it. Amazing how a few words could completely change the atmosphere. A second ago, she’d been resentful of Francesca—and she still was—but Francesca was not here with Mr. December. Lexi was. And Mr. December had just told her she’d missed out on a good-night kiss. Now there was something to be upset about.
A smile touched his lips. “It’s my opinion that our evening hasn’t officially ended yet.”
Lexi felt her eyes grow wide. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak, which was just as well, because she probably would have babbled, and babbling lips didn’t get kissed.
But Spencer was talking instead of kissing, anyway. “The thing is, we’re going to rewrite all our reports and I’ll be working like a maniac for the next two weeks.”
So focused on his goal of achieving validation... Uhoh. This was not prelude-to-a-kiss talk. This was kiss-off talk.
“I can’t promise I’ll see you again before Christmas. I’ll be working crazy hours, probably sleeping when you’re awake—”
“It’s okay.” No, it wasn’t, but she didn’t want him to think she expected anything, even though she’d thought... But Rip had warned her, hadn’t he? “You’ve already done far more than you needed to.” She dug in her purse and handed him a slightly beat-up envelope. “I recopied your letter last night after I got home. Added some new stuff, too. You’ll like it.”
He slowly took it and stared down at the address. “I’d forgotten all about this.”
But he couldn’t have. That’s why he was coming to... He was still coming to Christmas dinner, wasn’t he? Maybe she shouldn’t have given him the letter just yet.
“Thanks.” He looked up at her. “I’m going to go home and hit the sack.”
She laughed, surprised she could. “Good night, then. See you at Christmas,” she added as a pointed reminder.
“Good night.” But he didn’t move away. Instead he gazed at her, at first questioning, then with unmistakable intent.
The air thickened around them.
Lexi actually blinked to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating due to caffeine deprivation. Yes, it was a definite I-want-to-kiss-you-now look.
And her parents weren’t anywhere around.
The man whom thousands of women were drooling over was standing in her cold studio about to kiss her. It would probably be just a platonic, goodbye kiss, but maybe she should knock her dates in the head more often.
He leaned forward, his arms going around her. “I haven’t shaved.”
“And I’m officially late for class.”
If he accepted that excuse, he wasn’t as bright as she thought he was.
Slowly, gently, he touched his mouth to hers, careful not to brush his beard against her. His lips were soft, warm, sensuous, tender... tantalizing.
And sweet... Oh so sweet.
Spencer’s slow kiss kindled a warmth inside her that made her forget she was on the cold third floor, made her forget about classes, Christmas and posters of naked roommates.
A part of her knew that it wasn’t supposed to be a swept-away sort of kiss, but it was hard to keep her footing during the emotional tidal wave he started. Still, she struggled.
Okay, not very hard.
Then he touched the corners of her mouth with the tip of his tongue and she happily realized that she didn’t have to pretend this was a platonic kiss anymore, and could surrender to her feelings.
If a girl was going to surrender, she could do a lot worse, Lexi thought. She could also do a lot more.
He traced a series of tiny nipping kisses around her mouth until she shivered as her newly heated skin reacted to the cold air.
Her lips had never been this sensitive before. They throbbed, they tingled and they magnified his touch. So when Spencer once again settled his mouth fully against hers, firmly, but still gently, Lexi felt the kiss all the way to her toes and back up again.
Spencer’s kiss blew away every idea about passion she’d ever had. She’d never felt kissed so completely. Who knew gentle could be powerful? Who knew slow could be fast?
It was an intimate kiss. It was a sneaky kiss—deceptively simple, yet full of intensity.
It was a dangerously insidious kiss for a man to give a woman—because it was the kind of kiss that floated right past a girl’s defenses and landed on her heart.
BUT KISS OR NO KISS, it looked as though Lexi wouldn’t get to see Spencer before Christmas after all, unless she took drastic measures. He was as busy as he said he’d be. He’d called once, a distracted ramble where he verified the time he should arrive and asked directions to her parent’s house.
Apparently her letter was a hit at Texas Men. He let her know how glad he was that he could finally concentrate on his project again. And that’s what he was doing.
Francesca had a suggestion. It involved underwear, as always. “You’ve been tense lately,” she said to Lexi from the doorway of the music room.
“It’s a tense time of year.” Lexi was at the piano trying to arrange their Christmas medleys so she could play them with Gwen, the harpist, while Francesca was in Indiana for the holidays.
“It’s affecting your performance.”
Lexi glanced up from the notes she was making. “I thought it was giving my playing an edge.”
‘“Silent Night’ doesn’t need an edge.” Francesca walked into the room. “Seduce him.”
Lexi didn’t even pretend she hadn’t been thinking the same thing. “He’s busy.”
“Not that busy.”
“That busy. They all are—with tactile modifications for that stupid hand.”
Francesca winced and pressed her fingers to her temple. “Hasn’t living with me taught you anything?”
“Sure. Early to bed and early to rise means you’re not wearing the right underwear.”
“Very good, but that wasn’t what I meant.”
“It’s not what you know, it’s your underwear?”
Francesca looked heavenward. “I try to help and this is the thanks I get?”
Lexi was on a roll. “The love of underwear is the root of all—”
“Okay, Lexi. I’ll just take your Christmas present—the one I paid extra to have sent overnight express—and let you continue to suffer, when with my help you might achieve a state of blissful relaxation, emphasis on the bliss.” Francesca looked at the flat box in her hands and sighed.
Bliss could be good. “I�
��m sorry. I’m—I’m tense.”
“And I’m leaving tomorrow. It’ll be a perfect time for you to get a little less tense.”
Easy for her to say. “But how am I supposed to pry Spencer away from that stupid hand?”
“You don’t. Must I spell everything out?”
“Yes.” Lexi picked up her pencil and turned over the sheet music. “I’ll take notes.”
“It’s not complicated.” Francesca began to pace. “When I stop by the lab to say goodbye and give the guys their presents, I’ll tell Spencer that you volunteered to test the hand for him. They wanted me to, but I’ll sacrifice.”
“I don’t play the cello.”
“Don’t tell him!” Francesca threw up her hand in frustration. “By the time he figures it out, he shouldn’t care!”
“Oh.”
“Now, Lexi, you’ll have privacy, a piano, Spencer... and this.” Francesca handed her the box. “Merry Christmas.”
Lexi perked up. Francesca’s presents were always unusual. “Thanks, Frankie. Should I open it now?” A rhetorical question. Lexi was already fingering the pull-tab on the box.
“Definitely yes.”
Francesca had left the present in the cardboard delivery box. Lexi ripped that open, then found a shiny fuchsia padded gift envelope inside.
She opened that and dumped out the contents. Then she stared. “Is this leather underwear?”
“It’s the biker chick ensemble.” Francesca beamed, obviously terribly pleased with herself. “And look at all those zippers and chains. Ooo, and hidden hooks and snaps.” She pulled one open. “The Gate of Delight. What fun!” She gave a little shimmy. “I ordered a set for me in red, but they’re out of stock.”
“The Gate of—I don’t think I’m ready for leather underwear.”
“If all goes well, you won’t have to wear it long.” Francesca gave her an exaggerated wink.
Lexi held up the briefs with the back zippers. “This gives visible panty line a whole new meaning.”
“Spencer likes gadgets, so the underwear should appeal to him.” Francesca grinned. “And what a test for the mechanical hand. If it passes, then you both win.”
SPENCER WAS RUNNING late. Lexi had been awfully understanding when he’d asked if she’d help him test the hand. He wanted a musician’s opinion, and with Francesca out of town, Lexi was the only musician he knew. He felt like he was taking advantage of her, but Francesca had seemed to think she wouldn’t mind.
He had to ring the doorbell with his shoulder because he was carrying so much equipment. The prototype still had breadboards attached, and that kind of temporary circuit didn’t transport well. He’d probably have to reattach wires before they could test it.
He could hardly wait for Christmas and the chance to speak with Lexi’s father. Being able to link the hand with music opened up a whole new source of possible grant money, and he intended to make the most of it.
Where was she? he wondered, just as the door opened.
“Hi.” She stood and gestured him inside. “I’d just about given up on you.”
She was wearing her hair down. He liked it down. “It took longer to pack up everything I needed than I thought.” He stepped inside, but there wasn’t much light. It was a smallish house, with cushy furniture and fluffy pillows. Candles were burning, making it smell sweet. A woman’s house. “Where do you want me to set this up?”
“The piano is in here.”
He followed her, noticing her walk for the first time. There was an interesting sway to it. He hadn’t noticed the way she walked before. Maybe it was because she was wearing some black jumpsuit outfit.
He looked up just as she turned. “There aren’t any tables, but I’ve got folding chairs you could set the laptop on. Will that help?”
“Sure.” His arms were beginning to ache. As soon as they finished writing the documentation on the modifications they’d made in the last week and a half, he was going to have to get back to the gym.
Lexi left the room and returned with two folding chairs. When she bent over to open them, the pants stretched tight across her rear, revealing some interesting bumps.
Spencer smiled to himself. Probably little bows on her underwear. She looked like a ribbons-and-lace sort of woman. He wouldn’t mind knowing for sure, though.
“Do you need another chair?” She frowned at the armload he carried. “I didn’t realize there’d be so much equipment.”
“Two chairs are fine, but I’ll need an electrical outlet,” he said. “And could you turn on more light?”
She hesitated, then walked over to the wall switch and flipped it.
“That’s better.” Spencer carefully set his laptop and the case containing the hand prototype on one of the chairs and sat on the floor. He flipped open the case and carefully removed the hand or, more accurately, the jumble of wires, electrical components and tiny motors that would one day be a hand.
“Have you had a chance to eat anything?” Lexi asked. “I can heat up something for you. Francesca and I get all sorts of wonderful goodies from the Wainright kitchen.”
“Thanks, but I ate a sandwich from the vending machine right before I came over.”
“Oh.”
Spencer was busy hooking up the hand to a monitor, but his subconscious heard something in that “oh” that alerted him. He looked up at her, standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.
Maybe Francesca had overstated Lexi’s eagerness to fill in for her. “I really appreciate you taking the time to help me,” he said.
“No problem.”
Problem. But he didn’t know what it was.
“Since you’re not hungry, would you like something to drink?”
“A soft drink would be great.”
Spencer concentrated on getting everything hooked up and was barely aware of Lexi’s return. She knelt on the floor and tried to hand him a glass. He couldn’t take it right then.
“Can you put it under the chair?”
“Sure.”
When she leaned over to set the drink on the floor, he caught a whiff of her perfume. The candle scent had covered it up before. He liked her perfume and adjusted his position so he was just a little bit closer to her.
“How am I going to help you test the hand?” she asked.
“I’m mainly interested to see if you can use it at all, and the force you’ll expend as you play the piano. I don’t even know if this will be appropriate for pianists.” He gave her a brief smile. “I’ve only got the thumb and index finger reconfigured, but we’ve got to start somewhere.”
“Oh, I agree. There’s a lot you can do with a thumb and an index finger.”
He glanced at her, but she only smiled. She looked different somehow. “I’m going to have to hook electrodes up to you.”
“Where?”
“Your head, arm and on your chest as a control.”
“You’re going to control my chest?”
Spencer nearly pinched himself with an alligator clip. “Just monitoring your heart rate.”
“What for?”
“Your heart rate will increase under stress. It helps gauge the mental effort you have to expend to work the interface.” He handed her a piece of sandpaper. “You can get started preparing your skin.”
“Excuse me?”
She looked so taken aback that he laughed. “You have to rough up the surface of your skin for the electrodes. After you do that, I’ll put this conducting medium on and stick the electrode over it.”
“Lovely. Where exactly do I...?” She gestured.
Spencer put down the hand. “Here on your forearm. I can get seven kinds of feedback from the tendons here. Also on your temple.” He touched his fingers to the side of her head. “The stuff is pretty greasy. It’ll get in your hair. Sorry.”
“It’ll wash. And where on my chest?”
He looked down. “Right, uh...” There was a big zipper running down the length of her outfit.
He touched
the area over his own heart.
“You mean here?” As if in slow motion, she pulled the zipper down several more inches.
Spencer stared as the metal track parted, hearing each tooth of the zipper separate, staring as more and more of her white skin came into view.
She pulled the collar to one side, and he could see the top of her bra. It was black, not pink and lacy like he’d thought.
No. Wrong. He wasn’t supposed to notice her bra. This was science and he was a doctor. Not that kind of a doctor, but for tonight he would consider himself bound by the ethics of the profession.
And then she drew her fingers across the top swell of her breast and his mouth went dry. “Here?”
He swallowed. “Over a little more. And maybe down.”
She moved her hand.
“No—”
“Show me.” Blue eyes gazed into his.
Science, Spence. Science. Careful to touch only her fingers he positioned them where he wanted the electrode.
Abruptly he turned back to the hand. His own were sweating. He wiped them on his jeans. If he wasn’t careful, he’d electrocute himself.
Lexi rubbed her skin with the sandpaper, and Spencer could hardly bear the thought of marring its smooth perfection.
He made mistakes hooking the hand up to the computer. Careless mistakes because he was trying to watch Lexi out of the corner of his eye so she wouldn’t know it.
“I’m finished with this, I think.” She held out her arm to show him, turned her head and pulled aside her collar. “Shall I go sit at the piano?”
“Yes.”
Spencer brought the hand and its pulley system over to her. “First, I just want you to set your own hand over it. Play as normally as you can, and I’ll take pressure readings.” He attached the fingers to hers with tie wraps.
“This is not going to help my technique,” she murmured. “It’s heavy.”
“You aren’t auditioning for Carnegie Hall. Just do the best that you can.” Spencer sat on the floor in front of the laptop. “Remember, only the thumb and first finger have the pressure grid working.”
“Okay.” She looked at him, waiting.
It must be the light, or something. Or maybe the angle. Spencer was sitting on the floor looking up at her, and it hit him all at once that Lexi Jordan was a beautiful woman. Her hair...the way she held herself... her expression... It wasn’t any one element, but together... Wow!
Mr. December Page 10
