Dating and Other Dangers

by Natalie Anderson

  Oh, hell. Ethan glanced at her profile and took in the shadows under her eyes. He knew she needed some recovery time and all of a sudden so did he—but it wasn’t physical rest he needed, more mental and emotional. He didn’t know what to think about anything any more.

  ‘I should probably get going.’ Contrarily, he instantly hoped she’d tell him to stay.

  ‘Okay.’ She nodded and kept focusing hard on the screen. ‘My flatmate gets back tonight, and we’ve got a big catch-up planned.’

  ‘Yeah, of course,’ he said, battling disappointment and failing. He glanced briefly at the message she was reading.

  Do you think weakness can be inherited? Because I’m worried it can. For years my mum stayed with my dad, even though he cheated on her. I swore I’d never be like her—stupid enough to put up with it. But here I am and my boyfriend has cheated on me and I don’t want him to leave—

  Ethan pushed away from the table, found his clothes, and went to her bedroom. He didn’t want to know what Nadia’s response to that one would be. Did being the son of a slimeball make you a slimeball too?

  ‘Ethan?’ Nadia stood in the doorway.

  Ethan bent and pulled on his shoes, concentrating on his laces. ‘My dad cheated on my mum all the time. Eventually he ran off with one of his “assistants”. Then he cheated on her too. Every relationship he has, ends with him cheating. But Jess has married, and Tom is the last guy on this earth who’d do that. You should e-mail that woman and tell her. It’s not some hereditary thing. Patterns don’t have to repeat like that.’ Not for Jess, or Polly. And not for him—because he’d made the decision to be different. Only now he didn’t know if he’d been any better—if he could ever be any better.

  Nadia blinked. ‘Okay.’ She took a step into the room. ‘When did they divorce?’

  Ethan straightened and walked back out to the lounge, picked up his bag. ‘I was fourteen. It was a relief.’ He wished his mother had thrown Matthew out sooner.

  ‘Why—?’

  ‘Nadia, I don’t want to talk about it.’ What did she want to know? How he’d heard his mother’s tears late at night for years? How he and Jess and Polly had tried to get their father’s attention and never could compete with the bright young bimbos at the studio? How Ethan had worked so hard to make his mum smile?

  ‘I know that.’ Nadia looked him square in the eye. ‘But maybe you should.’

  He almost smiled. But he said nothing. She really didn’t want to hear his sob story. He couldn’t think of a bigger turn-off. He was so much better at making her smile.

  She walked with him to the door to see him off. ‘Bye,’ she said. ‘It was …’

  ‘Don’t say nice.’ His feelings were even more mixed-up. ‘Have fun with your flatmate tonight,’ he said.

  ‘I will.’ She smiled, but he could see she was biting back questions.

  He didn’t want to go, but she had her own friends and her own life and it was busy. So busy there wasn’t as much room in it for him as he suddenly wanted. She put so much of herself into her work, her forum, her friends… So what? Now he was feeling jealous of those things? Clearly he needed more sleep.

  When they’d finally sated themselves in the small hours last night, she’d curled into a little ball and slept like the dead. He’d woken too early and waited for ages, willing her to wake up, but it had taken so long he’d had to find something to read to keep himself from bothering her. He hadn’t wanted to disturb her when she looked so tired.

  And he didn’t want to bother her now. Much.

  He bent and kissed her. The way her lips clung made him feel better. Yeah, the sex was good. And that was all he wanted, right?

  Well, no. Not any more.

  Dissatisfied, Ethan walked home alone. He worked for a while. Spoke to a few mates. Decided on a quiet Saturday night in—the first in ages. And he spent it in front of his computer. Megan lounged on the sofa looking like a totally pampered cat. ‘It was the best three weeks of my life,’ she purred. ‘The absolute best.’

  Nadia laughed—three weeks sailing round the Greek Islands with a lover wouldn’t be bad, would it?

  ‘So tell me about yours?’ Now Megan looked completely feline—and sly.

  Nadia had tried hard to keep Megan talking about herself, but Megan wasn’t being denied any longer. She had her iPad on her lap, and was scrolling through the nightmare that was Ethan’s blog.

  ‘Did you know he’s put up another message?’

  ‘He has?’ Nadia’s heart raced. She’d hoped they were just going to forget about the blogs. She’d been gearing up to delete hers. But there it was.

  Okay, so we’re behind on the date reporting. And I’m not going to report because the reality is a whole lot more complicated than this “he said/she said” forum. I just want to pass this message on to the women out there who are reading. You want a clue into the male psyche?

  Here it is.

  Utterly unlike the sharing need of the female, we guys don’t like to emote or analyse. Guys like action. So let us act. Let us be guys. Let us do the things we like to do for a woman.

  Well, what did that mean?

  ‘Are you up for sharing, Nadia?’ Megan asked, her sly tone gone quiet. And curious.

  Nadia shook her head. She’d already shared way too much of herself these last twenty-four hours—with him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HE DIDN’T call on Sunday. Or text or e-mail or make any more comments on his blog. So she didn’t either. Which wasn’t to say she didn’t obsess over him any time she didn’t have her thoughts on a tight rein. And she worked late, late, late on her site.

  Too early Monday morning Megan called up the stairs. ‘Nadia, there’s someone at the door for you.’

  At seven? She went down, not trusting the wicked expression on Megan’s face.

  But when she got to the door she understood. Ethan, looking dynamite in casual, a combo of relaxed and confident. He all but knocked her out.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she managed to ask.

  ‘I thought I’d see you to your work today.’

  She stared at the shiny new mountain bike beside him, still astounded to see him. ‘But your work is nearer here than mine.’

  ‘Well, I need more exercise than you.’ His eyes twin kled.

  ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘Completely.’

  Nadia’s eyes narrowed. He was here, but not for the right reason. She became aware of Megan, unsubtly hunting for something in the lounge, so she could check out Ethan some more. ‘I’ll just get my bag.’

  Nadia backed into the house, drawing the door almost fully closed behind her.

  ‘Oh, Nadia.’ Megan stood with arms crossed, foot tapping, and a smile wider than Australia. ‘Nadia, Nadia, Nadia.’

  ‘No matter what you hear in the next ten minutes, do not come outside—okay?’ she instructed her friend.

  Megan’s eyes widened. ‘Okay.’

  Nadia ran to finish getting ready. She rammed her feet into her skates and skated out through the door, banging it behind her. She met his bright-eyed gaze as she did up the clip on her helmet. He’d turned the bike around and was astride, ready to push off.

  Nadia moved up beside him—and then pulled her surprise.

  The most horrendous, ear-splitting screeching sound suddenly deafened them.

  ‘What the hell is that?’ Ethan shouted, looking around.

  Nadia pointed to the little black rectangle tucked into her waistband.

  ‘It’s a scream in a can,’ she shouted back. ‘I just pull this cord and it makes this godawful noise. So I don’t need a bodyguard to get to work safely, Ethan. I can take care of myself.’

  ‘That’s not why I’m here,’ he bellowed.

  She silenced the screamer and stared at him, not letting him away with it.

  He sighed. ‘Okay, that’s a little bit of why I’m here.’

  ‘You don’t need to be here for that at all.’ She waited, brows l
ifted.

  His mouth shut—firm—and didn’t open for several seconds. And then he blew her away.

  ‘Look, why do you insist on pigeon-holing guys?’ he demanded. ‘What’s with the protective/predator split—why can’t I feel a bit of both? I’m quite sure you can take care of yourself, Nadia. But even if you had a black belt in karate and carried a bazooka I’d still have this random concern. It makes me feel better to be with you in the park early in the morning, okay? And what’s wrong with that? Look, I’m not going to stop you from doing anything—I doubt I could. But why can’t it be fun to do things together? Why do you have to prove yourself all on your own all the damn time?’ He paused to swear—pithy and powerful. ‘Honestly, the main reason I’m here right now is because I wanted to spend some time with you, and this is one way of sneaking in an extra half-hour. Is that a crime?’

  ‘No.’ Winded, Nadia moved forward on her skates so he couldn’t see her ridiculously huge smile and her basically heaving bosom. ‘That’s just fine.’

  But she couldn’t resist glancing back—and catching his rueful, gorgeous smile.

  It was a fantastically clear morning. She’d always loved skating. She loved how free and fast it made her feel. But skating alongside Ethan was even more of a rush. He was so right—being together made for much more fun. And he wasn’t here to stop her, or because he thought she couldn’t do this on her own—he actually acknowledged that she could. He was being with her right now for the pleasure of it. Adrenalin and anticipation coiled together, spinning through her veins, sending her pulse racing and her happiness meter to the sky. Because he was right. Together side-by-side like this was fantastic.

  Ethan pedalled quickly, amazed at just how fast she was. And how hot. She had the leggings on, and a cute singlet top, helmet and wrist protectors. He really shouldn’t be turned on by that get-up. But he was.

  He’d stayed away yesterday and hated every second of the day. So now he was giving in to the nagging, all-encompassing urge to be near her. Only with her this close the urge was crippling. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything, and he wanted her this instant. And he wanted more from himself—he wanted to be more—but he didn’t know how and he hated it. Where had his carefree, walk-away attitude gone?

  ‘I’m going to have a heart attack, exercising with you,’ he muttered when they finally got to her workplace. He rested his bike against the side of the building and put his hands on his hips, trying to get his rioting body back under control. ‘You have a shower in there?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, taking off her helmet and shaking her hair loose.

  ‘Strangers allowed?’ he rasped, hormones even more wayward now.

  ‘No.’ She bit her lip and looked disappointed.

  He was devastated.

  But an impish look crossed her face and she leaned close to whisper in the most torturous way. ‘Have you got anything with you?’

  Ethan thought for a second, and his heart crashed. How could he have been so stupid as not to have a condom on him? But he’d not done this with the intention of getting some. But of course it was all he wanted right now.

  Bizarrely, her expression lit up even more as she registered his dismay. ‘There’s a rest-room in the foyer.’

  So? What was the point of that when they couldn’t do what he so badly wanted to do? But he followed. Couldn’t not follow. It was so early there was no one in Reception, only a guard on the outside door, and he didn’t blink when Ethan followed Nadia into the building. She went straight to a little room. Once he’d ducked in she locked the door and stepped up to him, pushing him back against it.

  ‘You can’t get back on your bike like this.’ She grinned, her hands moving fast on his fly.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m okay,’ he said roughly. His body screamed its argument against his words. ‘Really, you don’t have to—’

  Oh. Oh. Oh.

  His heart stopped as she dropped before him and dived straight to party central. Everything—save that one organ—shut down. He shuddered at the hot, soft drag and pull of her mouth. Then the not so soft drag and pull. Her hands moved firmly—one on his shaft and the other teasing his balls. His body pounded, threatening to burst out of its skin. He ran his hands through her hair—silky and long and sweet-smelling. His head clunked hard against the door, his vision blanking out as internal sensation soared.

  He should have known she’d be as passionate and whole-hearted in her efforts here as she was in every other aspect of her life. She put everything she had into everything she did—and her effort and ability totally outweighed her stature. She was a dynamo. Just being around her jolted him to life. And right now he felt more alive, more intense, more focused on one person than he ever had. Vitality streamed through his system—and unstoppable, massive force.

  ‘Nadia,’ he gritted, desperately trying to warn her. ‘Nadia, please—’

  But she ignored him, and then it was just too late. He groaned as scalding pleasure coursed through his veins, powering out of him into her hot embrace.

  He hauled her up and crushed her body to his, her face into his chest, only relaxing long moments later when it occurred to him that she mightn’t be able to breathe. He just wanted to hold her and absorb the zest for life that vibrated from the depths of her body. His heart thundered, slamming against the wall of his chest as if it had grown too big to be hemmed in there. Speech or anything like it was impossible. And it wasn’t because of the sex. That was the really dumbfounding thing. That was the thing terrifying his tongue into knots.

  Eventually she wriggled out of his arms and brushed her hair back from her face, her cheeks flushed. He stared at her, barely functioning enough to zip his pants again.

  ‘I’d better go get changed.’ She looked meaningfully at the door he was still slumped against.

  ‘I want to see you later.’ Clumsy and stupid, his words all slurred together.

  ‘Megan will be at Sam’s tonight.’ The colour in her cheeks deepened.

  ‘Great.’ Then he’d be at her house.

  Ten minutes later, after a cold shower, Nadia sat at her desk, phoned Megan, and told her to stay at Sam’s and not come back until she’d sounded the all-clear.

  By Thursday she still hadn’t given her friend the signal. Ethan accompanied her home every night—and ravaged her the moment she turned the key in the lock. Once they actually got to her bedroom. Once they stumbled to the sofa again. Once he simply slammed them against the door. Later they threw together scrappy dinners, put a movie on. They’d debated and eventually agreed on action flicks—not too gory, but not dull either. They rarely got through the screenings without an intimate intermission. Between the movies, the food, and the mad, fiery sex they worked—him on his laptop, her on the computer. Until he tried to entice her to bed—to sleep.

  ‘You work too much.’ He stood behind her chair and wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from typing. ‘You can’t keep this up.’ He must have felt her stiffen because he laughed and quickly corrected himself. ‘Okay, I know you can, but it’s not healthy for anyone. Most people don’t do two full-time jobs at once.’

  ‘I know,’ she muttered, conceding her tiredness only because she knew he truly did believe she could manage. ‘But I want to.’

  ‘Is it necessary, though? Can’t you ditch Hammond and just do the forum?’

  ‘I don’t really see how. And I want to work at Hammond. I want them to see me succeed there.’

  ‘Nadia, you’d succeed at anything—and anyone who knows you must know that.’

  Oh, that out-and-out statement of support so totally deserved a reward. She spun in her chair, looked up at him and smiled wickedly. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

  But as the days passed she refused to think beyond each moment with Ethan. Surprisingly her work days flew because she threw herself into them—keeping her thoughts on that tight leash. And every second outside the office she was with him. She knew she needn’t fear he was
seeing anyone else as Rafe had. There simply wasn’t the time. And she knew he was loyal. She’d witnessed that with his family. But she wasn’t family. So she didn’t talk to him about what they were doing—didn’t want to hear his literally non-committal answer. His avoidance of any emotionally personal conversation. She knew she was in trouble. This was physical for him—only about the sensational sex they shared. But no matter how much they did it, the need in her didn’t lessen. It worsened. And her case of “like” for him was worsening too—teetering dangerously close to that other L-word.

  So her anxiety ratcheted up, and the gaping, aching hole inside her chest widened. Worse, the feeling of ecstasy didn’t last as long as it had, so more and more frequently she turned back to him for the fix. She wanted more. She wanted so much more.

  Come Friday, her nerves were fraying from sheer exhaustion—and emotional uncertainty weakened what little grip she had left. She’d had a couple of coffees and some sugar to get her through work, but seriously she was hanging out for the close of day.

  But then her boss, and his boss, called her in for a meeting—and told her to shut the door. Nadia shot a querying look at her line manager, but he wasn’t meeting her eyes. Lumps of ice infiltrated her veins, chilling her system at warp speed. Something was wrong.

  ‘We’ve been going through the records for the last couple of weeks.’ Her boss’s boss did the talking. ‘The computer records.’

  Nasty-tasting spit filled her mouth. She swallowed, but it didn’t go away.

  ‘Nadia, we know you’ve been accessing websites that are unrelated to work. Social networks, group forums.’

  ‘It was only a couple of times. Very quick.’ Only when Ethan had rung and she’d tried to get out of the dates. Only when she’d needed to see if he’d responded… Only lots.