Green Fire

by Stephanie James

  So why was she tempted to take those risks with Joel Cassidy?

  Chapter 7

  What she must keep in mind, Shelley told herself several times during the remainder of the meal, was that Joel was not exactly proposing marriage. Far from it. But she had the feeling that asking her to move in with him was more of a commitment on his part than it would have been coming from another man.

  Or was she seeking excuses to succumb to the pull of the undeniable attraction between them?

  Why was it that everything involving this man was so damn complicated, she thought ruefully as they cleared the table and wandered out into the living room.

  “If we work hard, we can finish this puzzle tonight,” Joel noted, standing beside the glass table and eyeing the unfinished portion critically. He munched a tart kumquat he had swiped from a bowl of fruit Shelley kept on the kitchen counter. The brilliantly colored, lemony-orange fruit disappeared into his mouth as he seated himself and reached for a piece of the jigsaw. “Sit down, honey, and let me tell you about my hard day.”

  Shelley stared down at the puzzle and thought that at the rate she was going, she might not find the solution to the real puzzle in her life until it was far too late. But she took the other chair, grateful for the distraction of the game in front of her.

  For a time, they worked together in silence. Joel still had the unnerving habit of always seeking the particular bit of puzzle that fit whatever piece she had just found, but Shelley was getting used to the small, implied intimacy. Was she even beginning to welcome it? It was an extremely subtle form of pursuit, she told herself, and she must be careful.

  “So tell me about your hard day,” she suggested softly, her eyes on the game.

  “Well, I got to the shop this morning to discover that one of the video games had gotten in the middle of a bar fight last night A couple of thousand bucks’ worth of machine shot to hell.”

  “Perhaps it was the calculated revenge of certain anonymous invaders from outer space.”

  “More likely a tavern full of anonymous truck drivers,” he retorted dryly. “Anyhow, we sent another machine out to the location and retrieved the broken one. It’s going to need a new card, new glass, new—”

  “A new card?” She glanced up, confused.

  “A new printed-circuit board,” he explained. “Gone are the good old days when a man could fix a pinball machine with a screwdriver and a wrench. The insides of those new machines are like computers. Ah, well. The price of progress, I suppose. Where was I? Oh, yes. Shortly after that, I learned that one of my oldest locations, a bowling alley, has recently been sold and the new owner is talking about switching route operators.”

  “You mean you’re going to lose the location?”

  “The new owner, apparently, has worked before with Nick Sanders, a route operator across town, and wants him to supply the games at the bowling alley.” Joel paused to select a rounded bit of puzzle and slip it into the curving piece Shelley had just placed.

  “Does this mean a war over the video-game routes? Blood in the streets?” Shelley chuckled.

  “It means that if I can’t convince the new owner of the bowling alley that I’m an all-around nice guy and great to do business with, I will then have to call up Nick and invite him out for a beer. We will then proceed to amiably discuss our unspoken agreement to honor each other’s territory. After which, he will explain to the new bowling alley owner that he’d like to service him but he just can’t extend his route to the far side of town.”

  “And if good old Nick doesn’t seem to recall this unspoken agreement,” Shelley prodded interestedly, “then does it become war in the streets of Phoenix?”

  “You have a rather nasty image of my chosen profession, don’t you?” he complained. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to go to war over a bowling alley! Nick and I will work something out. Along about then I started calling my accountant and began getting what I thought might be the same brush-off I got yesterday. My mood began to deteriorate rapidly.”

  “A rough life,” she taunted gently.

  “Isn’t it though? Lucky for all of us you were home this evening when I finally decided to drop by and tell you I believed your receptionist this time and that I wasn’t going to hold your unavailability this afternoon against you.”

  “I’m so relieved.”

  “You should be. If I hadn’t decided to believe today’s story, it really might have become a case of war in the streets of Phoenix. A man can only take so many frustrations in one day!” He found the chunk of sky that mated with hers and put it into place decisively before he glanced up with a pinning glance. “Enough about my bad day. Tell me about yours. How are things going with Ackerly?”

  “No one said it would be easy, and it isn’t,” she responded lightly, refusing to look up and meet his eyes. She mustn’t give him any solid information, but if she flatly refused to discuss the matter, he’d know she was on to something. He’d know; that is, she mentally corrected herself, if he had a reason to worry in the first place! She hunted for another piece of sky. The puzzle was almost finished now, with only a few bits of jigsaw left to insert.

  “Have you had to modify any of the original battle plan?” he asked conversationally, putting down the piece he was holding in his fingers and getting to his feet to stroll toward the kitchen.

  “Not really,” she said, watching him with a slanting glance. Why did he have to be the one to capture her senses? Why was it Joel Cassidy who could hold her eyes just by crossing a room? She’d never in her life cared much one way or the other about red hair, but on this man it made her want to put out her hand and thread her fingers through the dull-red fire. “The plans I made are basic to the kind of corporate catastrophe in which Ackerly finds itself.” There, that sounded loosely professional, didn’t it?

  Joel came back to the table carrying her good French cognac and two glasses. “Speaking of basic plans,” he said quietly as he poured, “maybe now is the time for us to start talking about my—”

  “Your proposition?” she supplied with quiet sarcasm.

  He sat down abruptly and placed one glass in front of her. Under the male command in his eyes, she picked it up and took a cautious sip. He did the same, and then he set his snifter down very firmly.

  “I want you, and you want me, Shelley. Come and live with me.”

  As if it were somehow an act of will she was exercising against the passionate demand in him, Shelley picked up the next to the last piece of puzzle and concentrated fiercely on putting it in place. But her gilded papaya-colored fingertips trembled a little as she worked.

  Joel pounced without warning, leaning forward and catching hold of her hand just as she was about to reach for the last piece of the puzzle. He said nothing, willing her gaze up to meet his. Unable to do anything else, Shelley looked up and became enmeshed, as she had known she would be, in the steel-blue trap waiting for her.

  “It’s going to be okay, honey,” he told her deeply.

  Desperately, she struggled against the bonds of the snare in which she found herself. The small truce that had been in effect since dinner was clearly over. Joel was going after what he wanted. “It’s too soon, Joel. There is so much we don’t know about each other. So much to make certain of before taking that kind of step.”

  “Stop being afraid of me!” he rasped with impatience. “Shelley, we’re so much alike in so many ways that being afraid of me can only mean you’re afraid of yourself. Don’t you see that?”

  “How can you say that? What makes you so sure we’re alike? I don’t see many similarities between us at all!” she got out tightly, her hazel eyes widening with feminine appeal.

  “Only because you don’t want to acknowledge them. But you can’t deny the physical side of this relationship. At least admit that much!” His fingers tightened on her wrist

  “That’s hardly enough, Joel,” she pleaded, adding silently: It’s not enough to gain my trust; hardly enough to assure myself of
your integrity.

  “I’ll make it enough,” he vowed, rising to his feet with sudden purpose and pulling her up beside him. “If it’s all I’ve got to work with at the moment, I’ll use it”

  Shelley was in his arms before she had a chance to protest, held in bands of velvet-covered steel that made it impossible to retreat before the onslaught of his kiss. He took her mouth with consuming urgency, forcing her lips to part for his sensual invasion.

  Hands braced against his shoulders, Shelley managed to wrench her head aside in brief escape. “Joel, no! We have to talk. This isn’t the answer!”

  “Maybe it is,” he growled thickly. “Maybe convincing you that we belong together is like working that damned jigsaw puzzle. I’ll take it one section at a time and build on the part you can understand and recognize.”

  He recaptured her mouth, anchoring her firmly with one hand at the sensitive nape of her neck. Dropping the palm with which he had been cradling her hip, Joel reached around, and without breaking off the kiss, slid the last piece of puzzle into place with a very distinct, very final sounding snap.

  Shelley heard the inevitability in the small sound, and her eyes opened in silent protest. He lifted his head a fraction of an inch and stared down at her for a long moment No words were spoken, but the sense of inevitability engendered by the concluding move of the puzzle game set alight every nerve in Shelley’s body.

  She did want him, she thought with deep wonder. With all her heart and soul, she wanted him. Never had it been like this. How could she deny herself the warmth and oneness, the excitement and fulfillment, she would find in Joel’s arms?

  And he wanted her; she could be certain of that. If only she could be as certain that he wasn’t also trying to manipulate her for business reasons.

  “The puzzle is completed, sweetheart,” he groaned huskily against her throat “It’s time to go to bed.” He moved his lips to graze her mouth in a sensuous, persuasive caress.

  “Do you always play an honest game?” Shelley couldn’t keep herself from asking in a voice that throbbed with emotion and uncertainty.

  “I always play by the rules.” A small, indulgent smile tugged at the edge of his mouth as he lifted his hand to spear his fingers through her nearly dry hair.

  “Whose rules?”

  “My own,” he replied easily.

  Shelley shook her head once. “How can that possibly be fair to me?”

  “Because, whether you know it or not, I think you play by the same ones.”

  “But how can I be sure?” she whispered beseechingly.

  “You’ll have to trust me for now.”

  “That’s just it, Joel. I don’t know you well enough yet to trust you completely. Don’t you understand? I want to wait until everything is clear, until I can know for certain—” She broke off helplessly before the blue fire in his eyes and the passionate curve of his mouth.

  “I,” Joel declared in a voice of thickest satin, “will show you how to approach the problem.” He scooped her up into his arms and started down the hall toward her bedroom.

  “Oh, Joel…” But the whispered sound of his name was an implicit surrender to the moment and the man, and he heard it She needed him, wanted him in a way she could not yet define or deny.

  “You take it one step at a time, honey. You build on the portion you have, the part you know. Just like the jigsaw puzzle. I think you trust me on this level, at least, so this is the level we’ll work from.”

  “But you want more?” she breathed as he set her down in the middle of the bed.

  “Yes, I want more.”

  She watched with luminous eyes as he stripped off his shirt and slung it over the nearest post of her bed. He smiled at her mesmerized stare, and then he leaned down, planting large hands on either side of her body. Shelley looked up at him, wanting him, needing him and knowing it probably showed.

  “For the moment, in this room, from now until sunrise, do you trust me, Shelley Banning?” he questioned throatily.

  “Yes.” It was the truth. Accepting it, Shelley put up her hand to trace tenderly the aggressive line of his jaw. She felt the tremor that went through him at her touch. “Yes, Joel. Tonight, here and now, I trust you.”

  He leaned farther forward and kissed her heavily, druggingly, and she sensed the relief and, perhaps, thankfulness in him. It dazed her, but before she could respond, he was pulling away reluctantly.

  Without a word, he turned and ducked briefly into the bathroom where he had showered earlier. He switched off the light behind him as he came back into the bedroom, but she saw the shaving kit in his hand as he came toward her.

  Shelley glanced questioningly from the kit to his smiling, sensual eyes as he set the leather bag on the carved Mediterranean chest beside the bed.

  “I brought it in with me earlier when I dropped off the groceries before going out to hunt you down at the pool,” he explained calmly.

  “Something told you that you might be spending the night?” she said wryly.

  “I keep telling you that one of us has to exercise a little foresight and planning.” He came down beside her and gathered her against him, the momentary humor fading as smoldering desire turned the steel in his eyes to platinum.

  Slowly, caressingly, he began to undress her, finding the buttons of her shirt with fingers that shook ever so slightly. Her own soft hands moved over him with a similar, growing urgency. When her hands fluttered to the fastening of his jeans, gliding lightly over the hardness of his body, Joel groaned words of excitement against her throat and arched himself into her for a moment, forcing her hand more firmly around him.

  Then he drew in his lean stomach, inviting her to undo the jeans. She did so, moaning as he opened the front of her shirt and found the fullness of her unconfined breasts.

  “I think you must have been made for me,” he muttered, showering small hungry kisses across her shoulders and down toward the curving shape of her breasts. “I can lose myself in your body, sweetheart. Soft and warm and—”

  “And a bit rounded?” she concluded ruefully, stroking his chest down to his navel but not yet dipping her fingertips into the opening she had made in his jeans.

  “Did you know there was a time in my life when I actually thought I liked skinny blondes?” He chuckled warmly, using his thumb to coax forth her nipple.

  “But not any longer?” The peak of her breast was tautening deliciously beneath his touch, and Shelley sighed as her body gave itself up to the joy of the moment.

  “Not since the day you walked into my shop and asked me for a hundred grand. Now I like rounded, nervy women with hair the color of toast. And there’s only one around who seems to fit the description.”

  “Oh, Joel!”

  “Go on touching me, Shelley,” he begged hoarsely as she toyed with the tapering auburn hair on his chest “I want to feel your hands all over me. You have such wonderfully soft hands.”

  He caught the nipple he had been caressing between his lips, letting his teeth tease the hard bud as he slid his palms beneath the waistband of her jeans and peeled off the remainder of her clothing. Then he lifted his hips from the bed, and she rapidly removed his clothes as well. When they lay naked together at last, Joel muttered an exclamation of need and captured her wrists gently in a one-handed grip.

  Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes holding hers as he pulled her arms upward. She watched him from beneath heavy lashes as he carefully stretched her body out, trapping her twisting limbs and holding them still. His ankle locked hers, and with one hand he bound her wrists. Then, holding her sensually captive, he began a leisurely exploration of her body with his lips and his free hand.

  Trailing his fingers down from her shoulders, he let them rasp teasingly across her full, aching breasts. The sexual taunting, combined with her inability to shift closer to his touch, was incredibly arousing. The flame that was already shimmering in her lower body glowed several degrees hotter as if by magic.

  But when she a
utomatically tried to twist free so that she could return the caress, Joel pinned her even more firmly. Then he leaned across to flick each tight nipple with his tongue. Shelley gasped.

  His warm, excitingly rough palm swept down below her breasts as he continued to tantalize the hard crests. Further and further he prowled, holding her still beneath the caressing invasion. At the contour of her waist, he drew an imaginary belt and then he encircled the exquisitely vulnerable navel in a buckle. Shelley arched upward, moaning deep in her throat as the fire flamed along her nerve endings.

  “Joel?”

  “Trust me,” he murmured. “Just give yourself up to me and let me make love to you.” The tongue that had been dancing around her nipples drew warm, damp patterns down to the curve of her stomach. The hand that had been playing in that region moved on to trace ever-tightening circles on the outside of her thighs, circles that moved to the inside with slow, compelling arousal.

  Shelley thought she would go out of her head beneath the exquisite torture. Her hips arched upward with a strength that would not be denied, but Joel denied it regardless, holding her firmly with his heavy leg and a large, gently competent hand.

  “Oh!”

  Over and over again the small, stifled moans broke from her lips as he deliberately baited and teased and tantalized her senses. When the probing fingers were ready to feather the inside of her thighs, he opened the way for them by pushing his knee between hers.

  “Ah, sweetheart,” he growled as he found the dampening warmth of her. “You want me; say you want me.”

  “Oh, Joel! I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you! Please, please…”

  “I will, darling. I will.”

  But he teased and provoked her body further, executing patterns of intense delight against the very heart of her passion until she thought she would no longer be able to bear it. Shelley felt acutely sensitive to everything about him as he filled her senses. The clean, musky scent of him enticed her nostrils, the hair-rough leg thrown across hers was a primitive chaining that drove her wild, the touch of his hands tantalized every square inch of her skin and the words of sexual promise that he uttered affected her unbelievably.