by Marie Jermy
Oh, what piffle! Samantha snorted and approached Daniel. Daniel was Daniel and nobody else. He showed no indication of knowing she stood before him until she said, “Are you going to eat that?”
He jerked his attention up from the plate and just as swiftly rose to his feet, causing the chair to fall backward onto the carpet with a soft thump. He righted the chair and then gestured for her to sit. She gave a nod of assent, and once seated, he got down on his knees before her and took her hands in his. Startled, she glanced around, already seeing that diners were looking in their direction, some even craning their necks for a better view.
“I am so sorry for yesterday—” Daniel began but she interjected.
“Daniel, get up. Everybody’s looking.”
“I don’t give a fuck!” He must have sensed she was even more startled by his harsh tone than his swearing, for he then smiled and said, “Sorry, I mean a, um, a fried egg. I don’t give a fried egg.” She returned his smile, and he continued. “Like I said, I’m sorry for yesterday. What I did was unacceptable. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“Of course I can, Daniel. It was probably my fault, anyway.”
“No, Sammy. It is never your fault. Never. Ever. The fault lies with me. And me alone.”
His hands still held hers. She glanced down and marveled at the contrast in size. Apparently she had smaller hands than Julie Andrews. Well, according to the prints encased in cement outside the Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, anyway. Slipping her hands free, she turned his over and studied his callused palms before meeting his eyes. “Daniel, will you promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“No secrets between us.”
“Never.”
Was that hesitation she heard? She stared deep into his blue eyes. The amber flecks began to glow. It was strange, but she could have sworn she’d seen those eyes before, and not on Daniel, either.
“Baby?”
Samantha shook her head. She was thinking too much. “I want to move back home. Will you help me?”
A frown formed over his glowing eyes. “Move back home? But you already live at home.”
“Mona and I bought a house out on Second Street about three years ago,” she explained while Daniel moved to sit opposite her. “She lives at the vets’ now with Rex. After Mark attacked me, Ross and Rex moved my stuff back home with Mom and Dad. Then Matt, who was living with Mona and I, moved back as well. Which was okay at first, but after yesterday…Well, you know. And I’m rambling and not making sense.”
Daniel grinned and placed a well-loaded fork into his mouth. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and then asked, “Rex? Who’s he?”
“Rex Latimer. Mona’s work partner. They’re also partners of the other sort, but don’t tell anyone I told you that. Mom and Dad obviously know, but Mona doesn’t want to broadcast it to the rest of the world just yet.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
“Well, hello, Sam,” a deep voice said from behind her. “Can I get you a coffee?”
Samantha turned to a bear of man who stood a few paces back with a coffee pot in one hand and a cup in the other. David Thacker, the B and B’s owner, might have the physique of a grizzly, but in reality, he was a cute teddy bear. Well, apart from his daily and locally famous rivalry with Phil Harrison, the owner of the Slumberland Hotel.
“Yes, please,” she said, nodding and turning her attention back to Daniel. The laden fork poised at his open mouth, his tanned complexion had paled slightly. She would say he looked a little rattled. Surely his reaction wasn’t caused by the use of the name “Sam”? She thought he knew she was named after Sam Carrick, her mother’s former partner who had died in the line of duty some thirty years ago.
Then the expression vanished, and he shoved the fork into his mouth. He chomped, swallowed, and then the “cat that got the cream” grin surfaced. Oh, well, perhaps she’d imagined his reaction and perhaps she was thinking too much again. Samantha blew the steam from her coffee and returned Daniel’s grin, her whole body warming as the amber flecks in his blue eyes began to glow.
So familiar…
* * * *
Your secret’s safe with me. Christ, there were too many secrets already, Daniel thought as he finished his breakfast. However, remaining quiet about being Sam Carrick’s half brother was the least of his worries. He was more concerned about his cock. He was damned sure it was going to explode. Samantha’s womanly curves, clothed in snug-fitting denims and an equally snug-fitting pink T-shirt, were tempting, but it was her topknot that really pumped his blood.
Her bruises were now fading fast, and with her hair up, it showcased the soft lines of her neck. Her subtle flowery scent reached his nose. He inhaled deeply, and his heart took a little tumble. His cock resembled a rod of granite at the thought of running his tongue over her scented flesh. Would she tremble in his arms and make little noises of delight? Would she allow him to turn his fantasies from dreams into reality? He damned well hoped so.
With a growing certainty, Daniel knew he was falling for Samantha. Armed with that knowledge, and if he had any common sense, he should ignore his godmother and tell Samantha that he was Sam Carrick’s half brother. But from the moment Samantha had walked into her parents’ living room two days ago, his brain had gone AWOL, and he’d be damned if he could locate it. He only prayed allowing the past to lie wouldn’t blow up in his face later.
“So you’ll help me?”
Daniel shook his head. “Huh? Help you with what?”
“Move back home.” Her mouth curved into a sexy-as-sin smile. “Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
He returned her smile. “Truthfully? No.” He stared her straight in the eye and took a gamble. “Sammy, I was thinking about running my tongue down your neck.” His gaze dropped to her lush breasts. “I’d also like to run my tongue over your tits. Will you let me?”
For a moment, he sensed her body tensing, but then she gave an eager nod. “I’d like that, Daniel. But first, help me move.”
Not giving a fuck that the enormous bulge of his cock was stretching the denim of his jeans and would be seen by all and sundry, Daniel shot to his feet. “What are we waiting for?” he said, laughing and, taking hold of her hand, pulled a laughing Samantha from the B and B. She was still laughing as she slid into the passenger seat of his SUV that was parked in the lot behind the B and B.
After a quick visit to the general store to buy lemons for the lemonade Samantha wanted to make, they went to the Anderson home. Ross Senior helped him with the loading of three suitcases and six large boxes of books into the back of his SUV. Well, out of courtesy, he’d loaded the boxes of books. He would have to return for the other dozen boxes, all of which contained more books.
As Daniel got into the driver’s seat, he became aware of a prickling sensation down his spine. He turned slightly and looked up. Matt was watching from an upstairs window. He gave him a cheery wave and wondered how long it would take Matt to move back in with Samantha. Not that he minded Matt moving back, just as long as it wasn’t that day. The following week would be good. It would give him and Samantha some quality time together.
Not that he really needed them—he remembered Silver Creek well—but Samantha gave Daniel directions, and within two minutes, he parked outside a red-bricked house on Second Street. She immediately gave a cry of dismay and was out of his SUV before he could even open his mouth to ask what was wrong.
He alighted and followed her up the path that ran central to the house. To the left was a small, circular, lush green lawn, and to the right were flower beds jam-packed with blooms in a riot of colors.
“Look at the state of my garden!” she cried, sweeping her hand around in a wide arc.
Okay, so the grass could do with a mow and maybe a bit of a tidy up in the flower beds, but that was it. “It’s not that bad,” he said.
“‘It’s not that bad,’” she repeated, her brows drawing into a small frown. “Look a
t the weeds. They’re everywhere.” She shook her head and sighed. “At least my boxes don’t need a trim.”
Weeds? What weeds? Daniel scratched his head as he surveyed the garden. But then again, he didn’t know his petunias from his pansies, his lobelia from his larkspurs. He did know roses though, but only because his mother had more roses in their backyard than a garden center specializing in the thorny, ornamental blooms. And what the hell was she on about with her boxes not needing a trim? Samantha must have seen his stumped expression, because she pointed to the two conical-shaped, dark-green, shiny-leafed trees on either side of the front door.
“Buxus sempervirens,” she informed him.
“Oh.” He caught her hand and pulled her into his arms. “Let’s get your stuff in the house first, and then we’ll sort the garden out. I’ll mow and you can weed.”
“You’ll mow? What, with a lawn mower?” she asked, looking aghast.
“Well, yes. How else do you expect me to cut the grass? With a pair of scissors?” From under her long lashes, the sheepish look she shot him told him that was exactly what he’d be using.
Daniel puffed out a resigned breath and then lowered his head. She angled her face toward his, her full lips a hairsbreadth away from his. He was just about to kiss her for all she was worth when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a cruiser pulling up behind his SUV. “Well, that didn’t take long,” he muttered.
A scowl knitted Samantha’s brows together as Matt alighted from the vehicle and sauntered up the path. “What do you want, Matt?” she asked.
Matt jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the cruiser. “Brought the rest of your books.”
“And?” she continued when Matt inserted a key into the lock and opened the front door.
“And what? I live here.”
Despite his own irritation at Matt’s presence, Daniel found himself grinning at his friend’s cockiness. Matt had balls of brass, that was for sure. Just a shame he’d also developed pain-in-the-ass syndrome.
Samantha started to protest, but Daniel slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her soundly. It only took half a second for her to soften in his arms and kiss him back. Heat instantly flooded his veins at the little mewl that sounded in the back of her throat.
That delightful mewl traveled from his mouth down through his body and settled in his groin. He uttered a raw groan when his rigid cock pressed against his jeans zipper. “Oh, baby,” he breathed, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m so hard for you.” She tensed in his arms, and he kicked himself. “I’m going too fast, aren’t I? I’ll slow down. We’ll go at your pace.”
Samantha gave a grateful nod and slipped free from his arms. She gestured toward Matt’s cruiser. “Bring my books in?”
Yep, that’s guaranteed to make my cock go limp, Daniel groused, as Samantha disappeared inside the house. Those boxes of books weighed a fucking ton. He was surprised he hadn’t slipped a disc. Not that he could talk. He had enough books at home to open a library, if one a little limited on subjects. But, hey, with Samantha’s books on gardening and romance, and his on geology, seismology, and every Robert B. Parker novel, it was a start.
Mmm, a library, Daniel mused, when a fantasy popped forward and took shape. Sex in a library. The place where silence ruled. But with one very hot image of bending Samantha over a desk, books flying in all directions with every thrust of his cock into her wet, tight pussy, Daniel very much doubted he’d be able to shush!
Matt then appeared at the doorway, a smirk on his face, and his hand resting on the holstered gun at his hip.
“Hurry up, Dan my man. I’ve got a shift in ten minutes.”
The image fizzled and died, and Daniel only just contained the urge to tell pain-in-the-ass Matt to go fuck himself.
* * * *
A trickle of perspiration rolling down between her breasts, Samantha straightened to stretch her back and pushed the bangs from her forehead. Phew, the sun above was fierce, but she had made good progress with her weeding. The bucket in front of her was full and her front garden looked more like its usual immaculate state. The flower beds in the rear garden didn’t need weeding because of the thick mulch of bark chips she’d laid. She decided when she got the chance she would do the same at the front.
She looked across at Daniel and smiled. He was also on his knees, his brows drawn together in concentration as he clipped the grass not with scissors but a small pair of shears. Perspiration dotted his brow and his shirt clung damply to his back.
He was one hot and delicious man, and she so much wanted to lick him from head to toe. She swallowed hard, realizing how out of character her thinking was. Then there was the important matter of being a virgin—a fact she had yet to tell Daniel about.
She nibbled at her bottom lip. Yes, she couldn’t deny she wanted to seduce him, but she didn’t want him to be disappointed at her inexperience. Then she remembered that he’d said she could set the pace. They could go as slow as she wanted. She trusted him, and it certainly would be beneficial for her to explore his body and find out what turned him on and off.
Plucking a weed from the baked soil that she had loosened with a small garden fork, Samantha wondered if Daniel would like her to peel that shirt from him and feel her way down his body, first with her hands and then with her mouth. He looked up then and, almost as if he knew what she’d been thinking, ran his tongue over his lips. She felt a blush warming her cheeks. Perhaps a glass of something stronger than the homemade lemonade chilling in the refrigerator was called for.
With a smile stretching his gorgeous mouth, Daniel pointed the tip of the shears at Samantha. “Didn’t you tell me that that was a marigold?”
She looked down at the weed she was holding, or rather, the marigold. Oh, darn! “This sun has frazzled my brain. Time for a break and a long, cool drink.” She rose to her feet and dusted the earth from her knees. “That lemonade should be ready now.”
“You’ve got my vote.”
He followed her inside and they washed their hands at the kitchen sink. She removed a pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator and filled two glasses. She took a sip. It wasn’t ice-cold, but it was still refreshing. Daniel finished his lemonade in one long draft, and she watched, fascinated at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.
He then placed the glass down on the kitchen table and approached her. The fresh odor of sweat blended with the bergamot and peppermint of his aftershave washed over her as he loosely wrapped his arms around her. His breath smelled of lemon.
“That was nice,” he said, smiling. “But you’re nicer.”
“If that’s your way of getting your hands on my glass of lemonade, you can think again. There’s plenty in the pitcher. I’m sure you can pour yourself another.” She laughed at the outrageous angelic expression he sported. Though the amber flecks in his eyes began to glow, he stood still and did nothing. She knew exactly why. He was waiting for her to make the next move.
Drawing in a deep breath, Samantha placed her glass on the counter. Keeping her eyes trained on the task she was about to perform, she slid one hand up around his shoulders and placed her other hand on the front of his shirt. The first two buttons were undone, so she flicked at the third. It popped free. On another deep breath, she popped the fourth button, then all the rest down to the waistband of his jeans. She glanced back up to his face at his loud inhale.
He nodded. “Yes,” he whispered.
Reassured by his encouragement, she slowly drew the edges of his shirt apart. Then with a burst of impatience, she tugged the shirt from his shoulders and down off his arms. It dropped to the floor, and a gasp fell from her lips at the sight of all that tanned and honed flesh. She traced a finger down the line that bisected his pecs and over the firm ridges of his abs, reveling in the warmth of his skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured as she inched a finger into the waistband of his jeans. He jerked slightly. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You just foun
d my ticklish spot.” He cupped her chin and tilted her face up to meet his eyes. “And ‘You’re so beautiful?’ Shouldn’t that be my line?”
“A man can be beautiful, too, Daniel.” She leaned a little closer to him. “Kiss me?”
“My pleasure.”
Daniel captured her lips with a hot and lemony, yet tender, kiss that curled her toes. His tongue slid between her teeth and rasped over her tongue, and she moaned into his mouth. He was such a good kisser. Better than Raven. She started and scolded herself for even wasting one iota of a thought on that rat.
“Baby, are you okay?” he asked, his tone full of concern.
She nodded and gave herself another mental scolding.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No. Let’s go get comfortable.” She laced her fingers through his and led him into the living room and over to the largest of the two sofas. “Lie on your side.”
He ignored her, lying on his back and putting his hands behind his head. “Why don’t you straddle me instead? That way you’ll be in full control.”
Samantha thought about that for a moment. What Daniel had suggested was true. However, one quick glance at the erection stretching the front of his jeans and she rejected the idea. She really wanted to explore that part of his anatomy. “No. If I straddle you, how will I touch your, um, your, er…”
Words suddenly failed Samantha, and she felt her cheeks heat. She didn’t really like using explicit words for body parts. It wasn’t in her nature. On the other hand, and at that moment in time, “penis” seemed too impersonal and “manhood” was laughable. Oh, this was going to be awkward.
