by Lori Foster
Another deep throat clearing, and she said, “I didn’t start out with the idea of losing your clothes.”
He lifted one brow.
“It’s just...you were moving around and stuff, and I could see your muscles flexing through your clothes, and I sort of... I went with it. My imagination, I mean.” Feeling defensive, she tried to reclaim the picture but he held it out of reach. “It’s not like your clothes hide a lot.”
That made him laugh. “My clothes hide a hell of a lot more than that dress you’re wearing.”
“I’ll change after dinner.” She went on tiptoe to get the paper, but he just lifted it higher. “Give that back to me.”
“No.” He smiled down at her. “Sign it, and give it to me.”
The request completely took her by surprise. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, why not?” He looked at the pic again, then grinned. “You made me look really good.”
What a way to pique her curiosity. Sticking close to him as he headed for the table, she asked, “It’s not accurate?”
“I’m not telling. You’re too curious as it is.” He laid it on the table and handed her the pen. “Sign it, then let’s eat before everything gets cold.”
* * *
AS THE EVENING faded away, Cat had to admit in some ways it had been fun. What a concept, her having fun while people who wanted her dead searched for her.
She didn’t delude herself; the threat remained. But for once, while being insulated from harm, she could block it from her mind and think about other things.
Like Leese.
Was there anything he couldn’t do? On top of being a stellar fighter and meticulous protector, he was a patient teacher, an understanding listener, a gorgeous man, honorable role model and a damn fine cook.
She’d all but inhaled her food, even the broccoli, which had been cooked just right and seasoned in a way that made it delicious.
Or maybe it was sharing the meal with Leese that made everything taste better.
His dinner conversation stayed light, steering clear of anything that might have ruined her appetite. He’d talked about his fight training, being very humble while answering her many questions. He’d told her about his family, how he’d grown up poor, always dressed in hand-me-downs. And he asked her questions, about her goals in life, her classrooms of kids, her favorite art projects.
More than once she’d caught him eyeing her meager cleavage.
Despite her lack of assets, he wasn’t immune to her, but he was pretty darned honorable. Much as she might tease him, she understood his reservations and respected him for them.
Didn’t make it any easier to accept.
And no way would she stop teasing him. Not yet anyway.
After dinner, she insisted on helping with the dishes, which didn’t take long, then they settled on the couch to watch a movie. It was getting late, but she was far too restless to sleep.
As Leese used the remote to thumb through the movie menu, he said, “You sure you’re not tired?”
She yawned and said, “Not yet.”
He glanced at her, tucked back a loose hank of hair and smiled. “Your eyes look so different.”
“It’s the makeup.” She battered her lashes at him, then thought to ask, “Do you think it’s gruesome of me to wear a dead woman’s dress and makeup?”
For the longest time he continued to study her eyes, then finally seemed to snap out of it. “I think it’s nice that the stuff is being put to use.”
A very no-nonsense answer. Cat smoothed her hand over the material of the dress. “It’s actually comfortable. Almost like a nightgown. Well, except that I’m showing too much leg.”
Leese said nothing.
The “too much leg” was wasted on him.
They agreed on a comedy. The movie started, but neither of them looked at the large-screen TV.
Stretching out, Cat propped her bare feet on the coffee table, letting the dress fall away to expose both her legs.
True, she was on the slight side, and she didn’t have a lot of curves up top, but she’d always liked her legs. They were long enough, shapely enough, that she didn’t mind showing them off. She flexed her toes—and again caught Leese watching.
Playing it cool, she asked, “Do you know what happened with Sahara’s brother and his girlfriend?”
“Only the very basics.”
“Will you tell me?”
He hesitated, then sat forward and, making her heart beat hard and fast, lifted the material of the dress and tucked it around her legs. “I can’t concentrate with you in this.”
“What if I take it off?”
“Cat.” He chastised her with a frown. “You promised.”
Laughing, she scooted into his side for a hug, and to her pleasure, Leese used one arm to return it.
Rather than push her luck, she leaned away, grinning, and said, “All right.” She left the couch with a yawn and stretch. “I’ll go find some pajamas, and then we can watch the movie.”
“Something really ugly would help,” he called after her. “And make sure it covers you from head to toe.”
In the guest bedroom, Cat realized she was still smiling as she pulled the remaining pins from her hair. If she’d met Leese under different circumstances, she felt positive she would have gone after him. Everything about him appealed to her, including his wit.
But if the circumstances were different, would he have given her a second look? That was anyone’s guess, and she didn’t like speculating on what-ifs, so instead, she concentrated on the here and now.
Locating pajamas wasn’t easy; apparently Scott’s girlfriend like sexy lingerie only. She settled on women’s gray yoga pants and a man’s black T-shirt, the front imprinted with the vintage KISS tongue logo.
She liked Scott’s style.
While she was at it, Cat went ahead and removed the heavy makeup and even brushed her teeth. After another lusty yawn, she returned to Leese and found him sleeping, his head resting back, his wide chest moving with deep, slow breaths.
Guilt held her in the doorway; desire kept her watching him.
She knew he hadn’t slept much the night before and yet she’d insisted on a movie. Thoughtless. Going forward, she’d try not to do things like that. After weeks of concentrating only on herself and what she needed to survive, it would actually be nice to consider someone else for a change.
His disheveled, dark hair looked a little more mussed, as if he’d run a hand through it. With his inky lashes resting on high cheekbones, she couldn’t see the intensity of his light blue eyes, but she’d never forget them. Loosely, his hands rested over his firm abdomen, legs stretched out, his knees relaxed.
Deep inside her, a hot yearning unfurled and spread into every corner of her awareness. Breathing faster, she inched toward him...
Lazily, his voice deep, he said, “You’re not drawing me again, are you?”
Cat jumped. How had he known she was there? Hand to her heart, she accused, “Playing possum?”
He turned his head to see her, looked her over, then met her gaze.
“Better?” she asked.
After his own inspiring stretch, he sat forward. “At this point, nothing is going to be perfect. But yeah, at least you’re better covered.”
With her heart beating a little too fast, she stayed near the door. “Describe perfect?”
“Drab enough that I can keep my thoughts off inappropriate things.”
Happiness mixed with desire in a potent combination. “Thank you for admitting that you’re interested too.”
His level gaze never left hers. “I don’t recall ever denying it.”
No, he hadn’t. He’d just denied her. “I’m ready to keep my promises if you’re ready to go to bed.”
She wanted him, but she’d take what she could get. “I’m sleepier than I realized.” And so was he. Holding out a hand, she said, “Come on. We’re both tuckered out.”
After the slightest of hesitations, Leese stood and took her hand, walking silently with her to the bedroom. Once inside, he released her and said, “I need ten minutes. Go ahead and get settled in. And, Cat?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t even think about trying to sneak off.”
Ha! All she could think about was cuddling up to Leese in that big comfy bed.
Deliberately, she patted back a yawn. “No worries. I’m too exhausted for shenanigans.”
He touched her cheek. “Good.” After running two fingers along a lock of her hair, he turned away and went into the connecting bathroom.
Cat released the breath she’d held. Heaven help her, behaving would be tough, especially when he was so gentle and attentive.
The shower came on, but she knew Leese wouldn’t linger. Leaving on only one small light, she turned back the covers on the bed, plumped the pillows, then crawled in.
Damn it, she felt like a virgin all over again and sex wasn’t even on the agenda.
But truth be told, the idea of sleeping up close and personal with Leese was more exciting than sex had been with other men. She thought about that kiss he’d given her earlier, and her toes curled.
She was a mass of taut nerves and anticipation when Leese stepped out of the bathroom wearing only his boxers.
Why hadn’t she left on more lights?
He set his neatly folded clothes on a chair. Put a gun and a few other things she didn’t recognize on the nightstand and, after turning off the bedside lamp, he got into bed.
The mattress dipped, making her body turn toward his, but she didn’t get a chance to take advantage of that because Leese’s arm came around her, drawing her against him.
“Is this how you sleep?” he asked. “On your back, the blankets in a death grip?”
Sounding strangled—with lust—she said, “No.”
“So what do you prefer?”
Being under you. Or over you. She scolded herself for making things worse. Get a grip, Catalina.
“Usually on my side.” And she still sounded strangled.
“Left or right?”
How could he be so damn friendly about everything? “Right.”
“Okay, so how’s this?” He settled on his back, then with one muscled arm behind her head, tucked her in close so that her head rested on his shoulder, her arm draped over his lower chest and her feet brushed his hairy calves.
Cat barely bit back the moan of excitement. “Perfect,” she croaked. For torture.
After a perfunctory kiss on her forehead, he let out a deep breath. “Great. Let’s get some sleep.”
Oh sure. That’d be easy. Not. Heat radiated off him, intoxicating her with his unique scent. It took all her willpower not to brush her nose against him, to resist taking a small bite of his sleek skin and to still her twitchy fingers from exploring his body.
To distract her hormones, she said, “You were going to tell me what happened to Scott and his girlfriend.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I need something, damn it!” Feeling more than a little irascible, she said, “Think of it as a bedtime story.” The words no sooner left her mouth than she gasped at her own insensitivity. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” she promised. “I just thought talking a little would help to redirect my thoughts.” From sex. From Leese. Feeling like an ass, she sighed. “Okay?”
Leese gave her another one-arm hug and agreed.
Hopefully he needed the distraction too, because she wasn’t into suffering alone.
“Like I said, I don’t know all the details. But my understanding is that they were out on Scott’s yacht. Something happened—no one is sure what—but they found the yacht floating at sea, blood everywhere, but no bodies.”
Okay, so definitely not a bedtime story. With her heart breaking for Sahara, Cat closed her eyes. “Scott’s blood?”
“Both of theirs. It’s believed they were attacked and their bodies thrown overboard. Sahara did an extensive search, but was never able to find anything. She hasn’t given up though. She’s kept a PI on retainer ever since then.”
“How awful for her.”
“Yeah. Not knowing for sure what happened makes the loss even harder to take. When her brother went missing, she stepped in to run things. After he was declared dead, she inherited the business. She loves it, but she’d hand it back over in a heartbeat if Scott reappeared.”
Wondering if there was any hope of that, Cat asked, “You think he might?”
“No.”
So tragic. She understood well the awfulness of not knowing. “Thank you for telling me.”
“No problem.”
In her own case, if she knew she’d be on the run for a year, or even five years, she could deal with it better than wondering when, if, it’d ever end. With no light at the end of the tunnel, she couldn’t plan, couldn’t organize.
Couldn’t reclaim her life.
Would her job still be there if she was able to return? Weeks ago, she’d used a pay phone to call the school and take a leave of absence, but that would only last so long before they’d find a permanent replacement. And what about her house? She couldn’t pay any bills, couldn’t maintain the property, couldn’t collect the mail from her mailbox... Would the city declare it abandoned?
When she heard Leese’s breathing even into the deep rhythm of sleep, she forgot about her problems and peeked up at him.
Only a soft blue light shone from the alarm clock radio, putting his features in deep shadow. Lethargy pulled at her, and after daring one soft kiss to his ribs, she closed her eyes...and quickly faded.
CHAPTER EIGHT
A LOUD SCREECHING shot Leese out of a sound sleep. He was on his knees, gun in hand, in an instant. Searching out the threat, he flashed his gaze over every dim corner of the immense room, but found nothing.
Beside him, Cat stirred. “Leese?”
He glanced at her.
Meekly, she pointed to the alarm clock radio. “Don’t shoot it, okay?”
Ah, hell. He inhaled a deep, calming breath, turned and slapped the stupid alarm to silence it. Who the hell woke to that every day?
His heart beat in the slow, hard way it did when he faced an opponent and he took a second to get a grip. Dim morning light barely penetrated the thick curtains. He carefully set the gun back on the nightstand, turned the automatic alarm off so he wouldn’t have a repeat heart attack tomorrow morning, then finally allowed himself to look at Cat.
Fuck, she looked irresistible.
Messy tumbled brown hair, sleep-puffy blue eyes, flushed cheeks and a totally lax body. Still drowsy, she stared back at him. Not kissing her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
“Sorry about that.” How long had it been since he’d slept that soundly? Dangerous. He couldn’t afford to lose himself that way. He’d put the blame square on Catalina. Her small, warm body had fit so perfectly to his, had felt so right, that he’d relaxed in unfamiliar ways—even while sporting a boner.
“You’re fast,” she whispered. “I barely heard that alarm, and you were ready to shoot it.”
She’d probably tease him forever—no, not forever because he wouldn’t know her that long. “I was out,” he admitted. “Dead to the world.”
“Me too.”
“Usually I’m a light sleeper.”
Her gaze lowered to look at his body. “I used to always sleep hard, but it’s been different since all this started.” She pushed back her hair, then scooted up to sit against the head
board. “You know how usually if you hear something in the night, you assume it’s the house settling, or the wind outside, or...whatever?”
“Sure.”
Pulling the covers up to her lap, she bit her lip, then gazed toward the curtained window. “These days,” she softly confessed, “when I hear something, the first thing I do is panic. I assume I’ve been found and I go into that fight-or-flight mode, with flight being my preference.”
Leese moved to sit next to her, their shoulders touching. “That’s understandable given your current circumstances.”
“Maybe. But with you, I sleep like I used to. That is, once I fell asleep.” Smiling, she nudged him and said, “Took me a little while last night. With you right there, looking like you look, feeling like you feel—”
“You felt me?” He tried to pretend affront, but mostly he tried to hedge off another erection.
“You’re hard and hot, and man, Leese, you smell good.”
“And you’re small and soft and smell good too. But if we’re going to continue sleeping together—” Weirdest conversation he’d ever had with a woman, period. “—then we need to make an agreement.”
“I think we need to make coffee.”
He stilled her when she tried to leave the bed. “I’ll make the coffee in a minute.”
Groaning, she flopped down flat on the mattress again. “Okay, but hurry before I expire.”
This was the tricky part. How to explain without hurting her feelings, or worse, encouraging her. He’d strained his control as far as he could; she needed to work with him.
“Let’s put the seduction on the back burner, at least for a week.” When she started to protest, he cut her off. “One week, Cat. You can rein it in that long, and if after a week—” which was about as far as he could push himself “—we’re still holed up together, and you’re still sure of what you want, well then—”
She bolted up to face him. “You mean it?”
Damn, when was the last time anyone wanted him that much? And how could he resist it? Sure, he’d always accepted that too much familiarity was a major no-no in the biz. Made sense.
Until he met Catalina.
