Resisting the Bad Boy (NICE GIRL TO LOVE)

by Duke, Violet

  >> Having fun?

  His phone beeped back a half a minute later and he exhaled in relief. At least she was still talking to him.

  >> Sure. Are you?

  No. He’d missed the hell out of her all night. Tonight had been anything but fun.

  >> Victoria left right after you did.

  Pause.

  >> Oh. Sorry if I ruined your plans for the evening.

  He let out a frustrated breath.

  >> It’s not what you think. I haven’t slept with her in years.

  Her reply was instant.

  >> How do you know what I think?

  Replaying the look in her eyes as she’d left the house, he texted back:

  >> You seemed upset.

  The sound of musical chirping coming from outside his room led him out to the hallway where Abby was standing at the top of the stairwell with her phone. “Damn right I was upset.”

  “I told you—”

  “Not over you and Victoria,” she snapped. “If you want to date other women, that’s your prerogative. What I am pissed about is being reduced to a peon in the presence of two oh-so-great attorneys. Call me a relative stranger, call me the girl you’re banging, I don’t care—but don’t ever make me out to be anything less than I am again! I’ve worked hard to achieve the goals in my life. I’m not some young college kid bumming on your couch. How the heck would you feel if I’d referred to you in that way during your last year of law school?”

  God, she was magnificent when she was angry. “I see your point. I’m sorry.” He got within arm’s reach of her but kept his hands in his pockets. Barely. “If it helps, you did a good job getting me back. I’ve been going out of my mind wondering if you really were out dancing up on a bunch of guys while I was sitting here all alone. Jealous.”

  She jutted her chin out at him. “Good. Serves you right.”

  Taking extra measures not to touch him, she cleared a wide path around him and headed for her room. “I’m not sleeping with you tonight, Connor.”

  Huh, he didn’t think she was the type to hold sex hostage.

  When she turned back to face him, a touch of vulnerability marred her features. “I’m not being a shrew. I just…don’t want to be sloppy seconds to Victoria.”

  “I swear I didn’t lay a finger on her.”

  “But you still had your lips on another woman tonight. Right in front of me.”

  “She kissed me. And I backed away as soon as I could.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m sure you wouldn’t care about this sort of thing if the positions were reversed, but—”

  “Hell, if the positions were reversed, I’d make damn sure to kiss you silly until I wiped every last trace of any other man’s kiss from your memory completely,” he growled.

  That familiar Abby light returned to her eyes. “I can see how that’d be…ah, effective.”

  Seeing her gaze travel down to his lips and then shoot back up again, he took a cautious step forward, teasing lightly, “Want to try that tactic with me?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t reward the puppy that misbehaves. It tends to confuse the poor thing.”

  He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “God, I missed you tonight.” He brought her close and breathed in the sweet scent of her hair. She always smelled so good. “You didn’t go clubbing tonight, did you?”

  “No. I didn’t feel like it. So, I went to the library instead and then met up with a friend for coffee and dessert.”

  He none-so-subtly corralled her back to his room. “A male friend?”

  “Her name’s Megan.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said gruffly. Gazing at her in his arms, outlined by the moonlight, he could still see the lingering traces of hurt in her eyes. “I’m sorry your feelings were hurt today.” Brushing a light kiss on her lips, he asked, “If I promise not to ravage you, will you at least come to bed with me? I find I sleep…better with you here.” It was true. With her tucked in his arms, perfectly fitted against him, he experienced a bone-deep comfort he’d never had before in his life.

  After studying him carefully for a beat, she nodded and headed for the other side of the bed. “Fair warning though, I have to get up really early in the morning to meet with some teachers at one of my research schools on res. It’s my first and only chance to talk with them all together at once.”

  “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? What I think I heard you say was that it’s a good thing you stayed here instead of going back to California.”

  She smothered a grin and volleyed back, “So about that kiss…”

  Ouch. “Early in the morning, research on the reservation. Got it. So I guess we better hit the hay.”

  Her chuckling smile turned into a wary look as she watched him climb under the covers. “You swear you’ll keep your hands to yourself tonight?”

  “Scout’s honor,” he promised.

  She giggled. “You’re supposed to hold up three fingers, not two.”

  “No, this is right. I never made it past the cub scouts.”

  She burst out laughing.

  With his two finger salute he vowed, “I swear on my slightly tarnished honor that I will try my best to keep my hands away from any of your good parts tonight…or bad parts, rather, since every part of you is pretty spectacular.”

  Shaking her head, she stated simply, “You’re incorrigible.” Releasing her hair from its ponytail, she added, “And unlucky for you, so am I.”

  With just that one warning, his beautiful Abby proceeded to remove every stich of clothing she was wearing, before sliding into bed next to him.

  He gave a heartfelt groan. “You’re a mean, mean lady.”

  “Goodnight, pup.”

  He loved hearing the humor back in her voice.

  She turned over and parked her curvy backside up against his front side. But not in a lewd manner.

  Shame.

  He reached out and pulled her back into him fully, making sure he kept his hand on her belly—no higher or lower—as he snuggled her in. She stilled for a second and then relaxed against him.

  “Good night, Abby.”

  “’Night Connor,” she sighed in a voice already half asleep. “I missed you tonight, too.”

  The smile on his face stayed put, long after he began drifting off to sleep as well.

  “YOU REALLY WANT to read my dissertation?” Abby was floored by Connor’s request.

  “Only if you’re comfortable with that. I look over legal briefs and book-length contracts every day. You never know, I could help you see if there are any holes in your argument, or maybe find ways you could improve your write-up.”

  Who could pass up an offer like that? She grabbed the latest draft of her last three chapters and held it out. Then yanked it back again. “Wait. You’re busy with that huge cyber-company case. You can’t possibly have the time.”

  “Actually, there isn’t anything more I can do on that deal right now. Their decision on our latest proposal should be coming through either today or tomorrow.” He snatched the folder out of her hands. “I’ll read this while I’m eating lunch today.”

  Did he realize how many pages it was? “It’s pretty long.”

  He shrugged and downed the last of his morning coffee. “I took speed reading seminars during law school.” Flipping through the pages, he estimated, “This should probably only take me an hour, if that. We can discuss it over dinner tonight.”

  That sounded so domestic, Abby warmed at the thought...before sobering right back up an instant later. Heck, there would be a Connor shaped hole in the door if he knew she was thinking of him in the happily-ever-after sense.

  Which is precisely what she kept reminding herself when he leaned down to give her a quick kiss goodbye in a very have-a-good-day-dear sort of way. It was also what possessed her to purposely turn the heat up a nondomestic bit by playfully slipping her tongue past his lips. Then right back out.

  The response was almost dispro
portionate.

  His arms came barreling down around her, caging her against the breakfast bar as his tongue returned the favor in spades via a search and destroy mission for any and all non-sex-related thoughts in her brain.

  Mission quickly accomplished.

  “Don’t start something if you’re not going to follow through, sweetheart,” he warned, dragging his lips over the side of her throat. “Because it’s been nearly thirty-one hours since I’ve had you last. I’ll damn well reassign every one of my court hearings today for a chance to be inside you right now. In a heartbeat.”

  How did this turn around on her so drastically?

  With his forearms just barely touching either side of her ribs, and his warm, freshly shaven jaw under her lips, she was supremely tempted to strip him bare and have her wicked way with him.

  But the shrill appointment reminder alarm from her phone tossed that possibility out the window.

  “I-I have to meet with my committee advisor today,” she replied, the raspy, untamed embers in her voice sounding practically 1-900-ish to her own ears. “Rain check?”

  He nudged his hard arousal against the inside of her thighs, close, but not quite high enough to break her resolve. “You’re going to owe me…” And then he did nudge higher. “…with interest.” A kiss and a nibble, and then a soft, “Have a good meeting today,” in her ear was his politely monogrammed acceptance of said rain check before he stepped back to straighten his suit.

  She almost fell off the stool.

  Now what meeting was she going to again?

  Pulling up to her driveway, Abby couldn’t believe how tiny her cottage looked now, after just over a week staying at the mini McMansion. Careful not to step on any industrial power cords or knock over any ladders, she slipped around back to where the builders were making excellent progress on the patio enclosure. “Hey Tom,” she called out to the foreman.

  “Abby, hi.” A worried look flashed over his expression. “We’re not behind schedule are we? I could’ve sworn you were coming back next—”

  “No, no. Don’t worry. I’m just here to pick some books I left behind.”

  Connor would collapse in laughter over that one, she thought to herself.

  Tom raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what kind of books make you smile like that and I’ll go to the bookstore right now and get a set for my wife.”

  She blushed. “They’re just research books my advisor wants me to re-read.”

  “If you’re looking for a more hands-on research, I’ll volunteer!” called out the journeyman passing by carrying sheets of drywall.

  Goodness, her face would never return to its normal color at this rate.

  Slinging a dusty arm around her shoulders, Tom led her away from all the whistling and howling echoing from his crew. “You’re too easy to tease.”

  She walked with him into the kitchen and offered him a bottled water, taking one to cool off her cheeks. “You guys are horrible,” she pouted, chuckling despite herself.

  “Hey, I meant to ask, are you staying over at Connor Sullivan’s place?”

  Abby looked over at him warily.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not following you or anything. It’s just I pass his home on my way over here and I could’ve sworn I saw your car parked in his driveway—the duct tape on the bumper is pretty distinctive.”

  Oh. The tension quickly left her shoulders. “He’s my best friend’s brother. When he heard I needed a place to stay for a few weeks, he offered me one of his guestrooms.”

  Tom nodded. “Yeah, sounds like him. He’s a really great guy.”

  Surprised at the familiar tone, she asked nosily, “How do you know him?”

  “He helped me and my brother out big time when we thought our business was done for.”

  That didn’t make any sense. To her knowledge, Connor only did legal work for huge corporations—small construction businesses like Tom’s weren’t his normal clientele base.

  At her puzzled expression, Tom explained, “It must’ve been five, six years ago, I think. Back when we’d just started the business. We’d been up and running for two years, making a decent name for ourselves by word of mouth referrals all over. The money was good, but not great. Mostly since there were long pockets of down time between projects. And that’s exactly why, after one really slow month, my brother decided he wanted us to take a shot at flipping houses. You know, like they do on TV? I wasn’t so sure about the whole thing, but he’d made it sound so easy, especially since we’d be doing all the work ourselves. So, I eventually got on board.”

  “And at first, he had been right. We flipped five houses in half a year, and made twenty times more money than we would’ve made just picking up reno jobs here and there.” He shook his head in a big brotherly way. “But then my brilliant brother wanted to go after a bigger fish—a foreclosed mansion in Scottsdale.”

  Tom nodded when she winced. “Yup. It was waaay too big a fish. We had to start taking money out of all our accounts just to cover the expenses; the house was just so frickin’ huge. The finish fixtures alone bled us dry since up until then, we hadn’t gotten all those high end fixtures. But our real estate person told us that if we went with the more standard stuff, the house just wouldn’t sell. Not in this neighborhood. So, we cleared out all our savings to cover it because at that point, we couldn’t even afford to stop.”

  Abby couldn’t believe how angry he suddenly looked. Since meeting him a few months ago, she’d never once even seen the guy frown. He was just the jolliest man.

  But at this moment, he looked downright scary.

  “We worked nonstop to get the house ready as quickly as we could. Then fate threw us the worse possible curveball. With just a few days of work left before we could officially sign-off on everything and list the house for sale, a bunch of kids broke in and partied it up in there. Jacked the whole house up in the process, from top to bottom.”

  Jesus. Now, she was scowling right along with him.

  “We went in the next day to broken glass, graffiti, doors hanging off hinges, gouges in the hardwood floors, vomit and other crap all over the new carpet…shit, the place was a mess. These kids were frickin’ insane. The banister was hanging off the stairs with some rope hanging off of it like a noose, some of our tools had been launched up at the ceiling, and they’d even bashed something straight through one of the main weight bearing walls.” He put his elbows on his knees and took a few calming breaths. “Anyway, I guess some neighbors finally called the cops and the kids all ran so they didn’t even catch who did it. The damages were in the hundreds of thousands. And our insurance would only cover part of it, in chunks, paid out over weeks if not months down the line. At that point, we knew we were through. We were shitting bricks over the house staying on the market past a few weeks even before all the vandalism. There was no avenue left for us to take; the general consensus with our financial advisors was that both my brother and I would have no choice but to declare bankruptcy both professionally, and personally.”

  Abby could hardly breathe. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the rest, but she still wanted to hear the words, hear someone else speak about Connor the way she and Brian saw him.

  “Just so happened Connor was driving by that day. I guess he’d been at a client’s house or something nearby. After seeing me and my brother talking to some cops and then some suits from the insurance company, he pulled over to ask what happened. He mentioned he was a lawyer and I thought he was just an ambulance chaser at first. But then we got to talking. Long story short, he ended up buying the house as is at a more than fair price. Then after the sale went through, he hired us back on to make all the fixes.”

  Well, that solves the mystery of why Connor lives in such an extravagant house.

  “Connor totally saved our asses. And to top it off, he referred us to a bunch of new, very rich clients. By the time we finished his house, we were booked a year out for jobs all over Scottsdale and Paradise Valley.” A long, emotion
al breath shot out of him. “My brother and I owe him everything.”

  At some point, Abby had stopped being able to focus on what Tom was saying. She could barely hear him over the deafening sound of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears.

  It was just a story, why was she reacting so strongly to it?

  Stupid question.

  Saint Connor saves another one. First his brother and then perfect strangers he met driving past a vandalized house. The man was so…so frustrating. That whole bad boy part of him was just one tiny, inconsequential part of him that he so wrongfully defined himself by.

  Inside that hard, gruff exterior was a kind, caring man. A sweet man. A man that seemed to be hellbent on buying up every ripe avocado in the area to make sure she’d have an endless supply of guacamole while she was staying at his home. Simply because she’d mentioned that was her dissertation writing snack of choice.

  Out of nowhere, she saw Tom waving a hand in front of her face.

  She blinked and focused back on him again. Shoot, had he asked her a question? If he had, he didn’t repeat it.

  Instead, he just teased, “There’s that smile again, Abby.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CONNOR WALKED into his office, closed the door, and sat down before he let himself go quietly ape shit.

  $7.3 billion. That was the unexpectedly sudden, final closing agreement for the complex multi-corporation dual merger and acquisition case he’d devoted the last five months of his life to. Seven-point-three billion dollars.

  Taking a deep breath, he stared out the window at the picturesque view that his equity partnership had bought him in the firm, even though he was way too keyed up and pumped full of adrenaline to see anything really.

  Seven-point-three.

  Billion.

  Absently, he reached over and flicked the little stress reducing toy Abby had given him last week—a colorful little monster with wobbly arms, crazy troll hair, and a suction base that kept it secured to his desk for even the strongest stress-flicks to its googly-eyed head. Talk about sticking out like a sore thumb. It didn’t go at all with his office décor and yet he found himself keeping it front and center next to his phone on his executive mahogany desk.