“Hello, I’m waiting here,” Phoebe said and broke into Hannah’s wandering thoughts. “Come on, Hannah. You’re a beautiful gal, he’s a handsome stud, both of you sleeping under the same roof. That must at least get the juices flowing.”
“I’ve been able to control my carnal appetites,” Hannah said.
“Well, that’s no fun.” Phoebe frowned. “Come on, Hannah, give me something. Tell me he’s at least made a pass at you.”
“No, he has not.”
The utter disappointment on Phoebe’s face nearly made Hannah laugh. She supposed she could leave the woman with a little something.
Hannah glanced over her shoulder, then lowered her voice and leaned close to Phoebe. “But I will tell you one thing, as long as you promise not to tell anyone else.”
Phoebe brightened, ran her pinched fingers over her mouth as if she were closing a zipper.
Hannah leaned closer and whispered, “He likes my apple spice muffins.”
Phoebe straightened and folded her arms over her chest. “Hannah Michaels, you aren’t too old to turn over my knee, you know. I went to high school with your mama.”
Laughing, Hannah turned and waggled her fingers as she walked out of the diner. In spite of Phoebe’s disappointment, Hannah was certain that the woman would make the best of what little Hannah had given her to talk about.
There was no doubt in Hannah’s mind that by tomorrow, the orders for her apple spice muffins would be double.
Seth tried to watch TV in his room after Hannah took her daughters to school at eight o’clock, but other than a sports game or a movie with lots of explosions and car crashes, he’d never been much interested in television. With the long hours he normally worked, he was rarely home long enough to do anything more than sleep and eat.
He’d heard Hannah return shortly after nine, but thought it best to stay in his room out of her way. He’d channel-surfed for the past three hours, watched bits and pieces of at least twenty different shows and an entire episode of “I Love Lucy.”
Saturated with daytime programming, he shut the TV off and used his cell phone to call the auto body shop that had towed his bike away yesterday. A recorded message stated they would not be open until noon, and would answer all calls as soon as possible.
Noon? Seth scowled at the phone for several seconds. What kind of business didn’t open until noon, for crying out loud!
Annoyed, he bit his tongue, then left a message and his cell-phone number. He understood that small towns ran at a slower pace, but this was ridiculous.
He stared at the blue stripes on the wall for a few minutes, but when those walls started to close in on him, he decided he’d had enough. Gritting his teeth, he stripped off his sweats, carefully slipped on a pair of clean jeans, then dropped his cell phone into his T-shirt pocket and hobbled into the living room.
The fresh scent of lemon wax and disinfectant greeted him. He realized Hannah had been cleaning downstairs while he’d been in his room all morning. He heard the sound of music from an upstairs bedroom and considered dragging himself up the stairs to see what she was up to, then decided against it. Instead, he found a novel by John Grisham on one of her bookshelves that he’d been meaning to read for a long time and settled himself down on the sofa. After a few minutes he realized that he’d read page six four times and slapped the book shut.
Sitting around doing nothing was bad enough, but sitting around doing nothing while Hannah fluttered busily around the house was making him…nutty as a fruitcake.
He frowned at the expression that had popped into his brain. Dammit, he had hit his head too hard.
Listening to the music made him wonder what she was doing. He heard the unmistakable sound of masking tape being ripped off a roll, then the rasp of sandpaper. He stared at the stairs, then pressed his lips together firmly. He wasn’t going up there, dammit. If he caught sight of her shaking that cute bottom of hers again, he might lose it completely.
Some fresh air would take his mind off Hannah Michaels, Seth decided. Yeah, right. Some fresh air, along with a bottle of whiskey.
The day was warming quickly, but the covered front porch was cool. Hannah had placed several large clay pots of green plants beside two white wicker chairs and two small ferns inside a wooden, decorative wheelbarrow. The front leaded windows were tall and sparkling clean, the front door and trim all painted white to contrast with the blue house. A pretty picture, he thought, just like the house’s owner.
What wasn’t so pretty was the broken tree branch still lying in the middle of Hannah’s front yard, or the smashed slats of wooden fencing he’d crashed through yesterday. There’d been no way to avoid the damage, but still he felt bad that she’d have to deal with the repairs. The least he could do was clean the mess up, he thought.
Grabbing hold of the porch rail, Seth hopped down the steps on one leg and made his way to the branch. He paid no attention to the numerous cars that slowed to a crawl as they drove by. He dragged the broken limb to the side of Hannah’s yard, then inside the fence that was still standing, he piled the broken slats of wood, determined to ignore the throb in his ankle. In spite of the pain, it felt good to do something.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”
Startled, Seth turned at the sound of Hannah’s voice behind him. She stood on the sidewalk, hands on her denim-clad hips, a frown furrowing her brow.
Damn if she didn’t look pretty, he thought, standing there staring sternly at him with those baby-blue eyes. She’d pulled her hair back into some kind of braid, but several long golden strands had escaped and curled around her flushed face. The white sleeveless blouse she wore revealed long slender arms, arms she now tucked under her breasts in a gesture of disapproval. As much as he wanted to admire her womanly attributes, he forced his attention to stay on her face.
“I distinctly heard the doctor tell you that you need to rest and stay off that foot.” She glanced around the yard and shook her head. “Dragging tree branches around and piling wood does not fit into either category.”
“I needed some fresh air.” He tossed a piece of cracked wood into the pile he’d made, then straightened. “And I’ve been resting all morning. If my ankle starts to bother me, I assure you I’ll stay off it.”
“You should have called me.” She pressed her lips firmly together. “I would have opened a window, or at least helped you outside.”
“I’m fine, Hannah.” He bent over and picked up a chunk of wood. “I’m absolutely fine.”
To prove it, he put his full weight on his foot and stepped toward the pile of wood.
And crumpled like a dry leaf.
For the second time in two days, Seth found himself flat on his back staring up at blue sky. This time, though, there were stars in that blue sky, and he waited a moment for the pain to subside. As if his embarrassment and frustration weren’t enough, a car driving by at that moment stopped.
“Need some help there?” a man called out.
Hannah smiled and waved. “No thanks, Mr. Langdon. Mr. Granger here is just resting his ankle.”
Seth counted to ten while the man and Hannah talked about Maddie and the accident and then the man told Seth to keep up the good work and drove off.
Hannah stood over him and stared down, but made no move to help him up. Amusement sparkled in her eyes, and he thought about dragging her down on top of him.
Instead, he glared up at her.
“Are you always this difficult?” she asked.
“Absolutely not.” He sat slowly and brushed grass from his sleeves. “Usually I’m much worse. You’ve caught me on a good day.”
“Lucky me.” Shaking her head, she knelt beside him. “Now are you going to behave, or shall I call in the heavy artillery?”
He lifted a brow. “And that is?”
“For starters, I’ll call the doctor and tattle on you, then I’ll invite Billy Bishop over and tell him you’re giving him an exclusive, then I’ll tell Mrs. Schwartz th
at you’re bored and would love it if her bingo group came over, then—”
“All right, all right.” He held up a hand and sighed. “You win. I’ll behave. Are you always this hard-hearted?”
“Absolutely not.” She smiled and offered her hand. “You caught me on a good day.”
In spite of everything, Seth grinned at her. He took her hand and let her help him up. Her fingers were soft against his palm, yet her grip was amazingly strong. He had a sharp, clear image of those hands on his body and felt himself harden at the thought.
Another car drove by and honked, smashing his image to smithereens. He’d nearly forgotten he was standing in Hannah’s front yard for all the world to see.
Though it went against his grain, he let her help him inside the house and even obeyed when she led him to the sofa and commanded him to sit.
“Ham and Swiss or grilled cheese?” she asked.
“Hannah, for crying out loud, I’m not crippled. I can do it myself.”
She arched a brow, then reached for the portable phone on the end table beside the sofa and dialed a number.
“Hello, can you connect me with Billy Bishop, please?”
Seth frowned darkly. Dammit, anyway, but this woman was pushy. “Hannah,” he warned, “hang up the phone.”
She ignored him. “Hi, Billy, this is Hannah Michaels. I’ve got Seth Granger here and he asked if you could come over.”
Seth reached for the phone, but she turned away, so he grabbed her by the waist instead and pulled her down on the sofa beside him.
“He was wondering if you’d like to interview him,” she said into the receiver even as he tried to yank it away from her. “Maybe an exposé on the secret life of an Albuquerque cop and the—”
He pinned her beneath him as he nearly lay on her and twisted the phone from her hands. “Listen, Billy,” he said, “Hannah wasn’t serious, she—”
Seth heard the dial tone and realized there was no one on the other end. He pushed the off button and frowned down at her. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and silky wisps of blond hair tumbled around her flushed face.
He felt the first jolt of desire hit and ripple through him, then indulged himself by breathing in the distinctly feminine scent of her smooth, soft skin.
He should let her go. He knew he should.
He didn’t.
“Very funny, Miss Michaels,” he said roughly. “I should arrest you for that little stunt.”
“Arrest me?” She drew her brows together. “On what grounds?”
“Interfering with an officer during—” he thought for a moment “—ah, the commission of a crime.”
“And what crime was that?”
Being too damn sexy, he wanted to say. “Aiding and abetting the enemy.”
“Billy Bishop is hardly the enemy, Seth. He’s a reporter.”
“Same difference.”
Hannah laughed at that. The very thought of timid, mild-mannered Billy being anyone’s enemy was ludicrous. She started to tell Seth that, but when she looked into his eyes, she completely forgot not only what she was going to say, but she forgot about Billy Bishop, as well. The way Seth was looking at her, she wasn’t certain she could remember her own name.
His black eyes glittered as he stared down at her, made her pulse quicken and her skin tighten. The warmth of his body seared her, made her blood rush through her veins and her breath catch in her throat.
This was crazy. Rolling around on her sofa in the middle of the afternoon with a man she barely knew was absolutely insane. She simply didn’t do things like this. She had responsibilities, children. Neighbors. She could only imagine what Thelma Goodman across the street would say if she saw what was happening right here in Hannah Michaels’s living room.
Hannah knew if she put her hand on Seth’s chest or if she simply asked him to get off her, that he would. Knew that she could end this as quickly as it had started.
But she couldn’t help herself, couldn’t seem to stop what was happening here. She felt more aware of this man than she ever had of any other man. Felt more aware of herself as a woman.
She didn’t want to stop it.
It felt wonderful. She felt wonderful. For just a few minutes, couldn’t she just pretend that she was like other women? How long had it been since she’d teased or flirted with a man? Too long, she knew. Much too long.
She told herself that there was no real danger with Seth, that she could control the situation. They were just playing around. Nothing was happening, or would happen, that either one of them would take seriously, for heaven’s sake.
So she went with it, let herself enjoy the moment. She touched a finger to his chest and made a circle. “If you’re going to arrest me, Officer—”
“Detective.”
“If you’re going to arrest me, Detective Granger,” she said, and was startled by the breathless sound of her own voice, “aren’t you supposed to read me my rights first?”
“You have the right to remain silent,” he said evenly, then moved his hands down her arms and circled her wrists with his fingers as if he’d handcuffed her.
She shuddered at his touch, then pressed her lips firmly together.
“If you give up that right,” he continued, “then anything you say can and will be used against you.”
He lifted her arms over her head and pinned her to the sofa underneath him. Hannah’s heart slammed against her ribs so hard she was certain he could hear.
“If you would like a lawyer…”
His voice trailed off and when his gaze dropped to her mouth, she felt her heart stop. His hands tightened on her wrists as he slowly lowered his head to hers. Anticipation shivered through her.
His lips touched hers gently. He nipped at the corner of her mouth, then her bottom lip. Kiss me! she wanted to scream at him, but he seemed intent on taking his time, and she didn’t have the courage to actually say it.
His lips teased endlessly, but never made full contact with her mouth. When his tongue swept across her bottom lip, she moaned.
Sensation after sensation shimmered through her, each one more exquisite than the one before. The stubble of his beard rasped across her chin; tremors of electricity coursed through her body. She parted her lips, wanting more, but not quite knowing how to ask.
Finally, blissfully, his lips covered hers fully. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and she met him eagerly. His taste was heady, hot and masculine. Exciting. Her body felt as if it were on fire; her breasts ached to be touched, not just by his hands, but by his mouth. The thought shocked as much as aroused her.
Impossible, she thought dimly. This is simply not happening. She was certain that it was the middle of the night, that she would wake from this erotic dream any second. Only she didn’t want to wake up, she told herself. If this really was a dream, then she wanted to stay asleep, wanted to know, wanted to feel what would happen next.
With his hands holding her wrists and his body pressing her into the sofa, she gave herself up completely to his kiss, met every stroke of his tongue with her own, answered every moan, every sigh. And felt more alive than she had in years.
Seth had lost the ability to think. It seemed that all he was capable of at the moment was his overwhelming need to kiss Hannah, to touch her. The attraction had been there from the beginning, so he wasn’t surprised. What surprised him was the intensity of the hunger clawing at his insides.
Her slender body underneath his own already had his blood boiling, and those soft little moans coming from deep in her throat were turning him inside out. He’d told himself to keep his distance from this woman, had known instinctively that something like this would happen. But had he listened?
Of course he hadn’t.
He lifted his head and looked down at her, at her flushed cheeks and moist, kiss-swollen lips. Her eyelashes fluttered, then opened slowly. He saw the desire there, knew that she was feeling the same thing he was.
So what was the problem? They both understoo
d what happened in the bedroom between a man and a woman. This was about pleasure. Simple, uncomplicated sex between two willing adults. Whenever he’d been with a woman, he’d always been careful. Hannah might be different than any other woman he’d been with before, but he’d be careful with her, too.
So what was the problem?
“Seth?”
The sound of his name on her lips had him lowering his head again. No problem, he told himself. He wanted her. She wanted him. That was as uncomplicated as it got.
He slid his hands down her arms and covered her mouth with his. She arched upward, pressing herself closer to him—
The muffled ring came from underneath them.
Dammit.
On a heavy sigh, Seth rolled away while Hannah struggled to retrieve the phone that had dropped down between the cushions.
He wasn’t certain whether he wanted to strangle whoever was on the other end of the line or thank them. He sat, then slowly released the breath he’d been holding.
“Hello?” Hannah ran a shaky hand through her tousled hair. “I’m sorry, Aunt Martha. No, no, of course I didn’t hang up on you yesterday. The line went dead and I wasn’t able to call you back. I was walking to the phone this very minute to try calling you again.”
Seth raised a brow at Hannah’s obvious lie. Hannah glanced at him guiltily, then quickly looked away.
“You’re absolutely right, Aunt Martha,” she continued. “I should have at least called you from a neighbor’s house. I wasn’t thinking. Yes, you’re absolutely right. It was thoughtless of me.”
Seth frowned, already deciding he didn’t care much for Hannah’s aunt. He could hear the woman’s shrill voice from where he was sitting. She sounded like the buzz of a hornet.
Hannah pressed the pause button on her phone and looked at him. “I’m sorry. It’s my aunt in Boston. I have to take this. I—uh, well, I—” The sound of her aunt’s voice on the phone rose to what sounded like a screech and Hannah released the pause button. “Yes, yes, of course I’m here. I’m sorry. There must be something wrong with my phone.”
In Blackhawk's Bed Page 5
