"Much better." Zoe cleared her throat and began to pant. "Oh, Tony. Dear God. I've never. .. no one's ever tried to... do that, before."
"You mean kidnap you?" Flynn did his best to ignore the way Zoe's breasts rose and fell with her rapid, shallow breathing.
"Kidnap me? He was trying to rape me!" "You're kidding."
Zoe sat up, ramrod straight and indignant. "Obviously you find the concept unbelievable." "I find it unlikely."
"Why? Because I'm not that sort of woman?"
"There is no sort of woman, Vera. Rapists aren't turned on by lust. They want power over another human being. They don't care much what she looks like. For what it's worth, I don't think he was after your body."
"He was so! He ... grabbed me."
"Where?" Flynn began to sweat. He didn't like where this was going, or rather, he liked it too much.
"Here." Zoe put down the script so she could clutch both breasts. "And he squeezed me, hard."
Flynn stared at Zoe, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight of her cupping her breasts. Her hair was tousled and her makeup was almost nonexistent, but there was a healthy flush on her cheeks. She looked like a woman who had recently had a good roll in the hay.
"Your line," she said, still looking at the script. Then she glanced up and caught him staring. "Okay, I know what you're thinking."
He hoped to hell she didn't.
"Vera is supposed to be somewhat flat-chested, which will make this part funnier. I'll have to bind my breasts when I'm in costume, and when they shoot the love scenes ... I'll have to hope they use really dim light."
Flynn gulped. "Um, yeah. Exactly what I was thinking." Wrong. He'd been thinking that he'd give a year's income to see her executing this move with no costume whatsoever. Nada. The thought of her scarlet-tipped fingers wrapped around her bare breasts was enough to give him a woody. And that was the last thing he needed right now.
It took all his willpower, but he managed to return his attention to the script. With an effort he even found his place. "I think grabbing your boobs was unintentional." Oh, dear God. These lines were killing him.
"Unintentional? Come on, Bennetti. I may not have a wild and crazy sex life, but I've never known a man to unintentionally grab a woman's bazookas. It's always intentional."
"Okay, okay. So your kidnapper wasn't above copping a feel while he was trying to get you out the window and down to the truck. But he wanted your brains, not your body." Flynn fervently wished he could say the same.
"So you think the break-in the other day and this man grabbing me tonight are related? "
"For a genius, you aren't very smart, baby doll."
Zoe glanced up again. "No, no, Flynn. You have to say that with more swagger."
She was lucky he could still speak the language. The vision of her holding her breasts was still dancing in his fevered brain, teasing him with possibilities he had no business imagining. "Like how?"
"Like this." She curled her lip and cocked her head at an angle as she delivered the line, putting special emphasis on the baby doll part.
She looked so damned cute doing it that he laughed.
"C'mon, Flynn, be serious. Try it again."
"I don't know how any guy uses that term with a straight face."
"I know it's not your style, but—"
"Not even close." He should get back to the script and stop looking at her mouth before he landed himself in trouble. Who was he kidding? He was already in trouble. Her perfume set off reactions where he didn't even know he had reactions. The distance between them seemed to have shrunk, but he wasn't sure if she'd moved or he had.
Her voice softened. "For what it's worth, I'd probably hate it if a guy called me baby doll."
"Yeah, it's really patronizing." While he was trying to remember how to breathe, somehow his hand ended up curved around the nape of her neck and he was pulling her toward him.
"Yes."
He wasn't clear on exactly what that yes pertained to. Her silky hair tickled the backs of his fingers as disjointed thoughts skittered through his brain. She smelled incredible. He'd never kissed a movie star before. This wasn't in the script. To hell with the script.
She slid her hand along the side of his jaw. She wouldn't do that if she didn't like what was happening. He closed his eyes. Zoe Tarleton was waiting for him to kiss her. Or maybe she'd kiss him first. Either option was totally acceptable.
From his bedroom, his cell phone rang. Not only did it ring; it played the special little tune that worked on his conscience like a cattle prod. He squeezed his eyes tighter, hoping he was imagining things. He wasn't, damn it. Opening his eyes, he gazed down at her. "Let me get that."
Her expression promised him all the joys of heaven. "You could let the message service get that."
"I, . . can't." With a groan he pushed away from the sofa, away from a temptation he should be resisting, away from a moment that he'd forever regret losing.
He caught Kristen right before the happy little tune switched to message mode. "Hey there."
"Hey yourself." She sounded so glad to hear his voice.
Guilt sat on his shoulders with the weight of a hundred hippos. "How's the conference going?"
"Dull. I wish I hadn't agreed to be here. Then I could have come out there earlier."
"I wish you could have done that, too." Then his life would be in order. He could have given Zoe a legitimate -excuse, and he wouldn't currently be sitting in a cozy little cabin in the woods with the sexiest woman on the planet, a woman who wanted him to kiss her.
"I'm still thinking of ditching part of this deal. I know you're tied up right now, but maybe you'll get finished early. How's the nerd tutoring coming along?"
"Fine." Flynn definitely didn't want to talk about that. "Would you believe we're sitting in the Bigfoot Capital of the World?"
"Bigfoot? You mean that monster thing?"
"Yeah. Some people think it's real." He decided not to admit that he was one of those people.
"There are kooks everywhere, Flynn. But I'm sorry you have to spend the weekend right in the middle of a townful."
"Yeah, me, too. But I have to keep the client happy." He glanced toward the doorway and discovered Zoe standing there, shamelessly eavesdropping. She didn't look particularly happy, either. If keeping her happy was his intention, he was doing a crummy job so far.
He turned away from the doorway. "Uh, Kristen, could I call you back in a few minutes? I need to take care of something here."
"Actually, I'm heading down to the bar to have drinks with some of my colleagues. Maybe I could fly out there tomorrow night, though. How would that be?"
Uh-oh. "Um, it's a ratty little town. I don't think you'd like it."
"I wouldn't be coming there to see the town. And I promise not to get in the way."
"I'm sure you wouldn't." Flynn had no idea how he'd deal with Kristen showing up in Long Shaft. "But it's not your kind of place. And don't forget, nobody's supposed to know Zoe's here." He peeked over at Zoe, who had moved past mildly unhappy to royally pissed.
"I know," Kristen said. "It was just a thought, anyway. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Good. Have fun with your friends."
"Fun is what I have with you," Kristen said. "This is strictly an obligation."
"Same here. Talk to you tomorrow." He disconnected the call. Then he turned to face the music. "I should probably explain."
"Oh, you think so?" Zoe crossed her arms over her impressive assets, which strained the top button on her ugly beige jacket.
He stood there wishing the button would give and hating himself for wishing that. He wanted to strip her naked and push her down on the twin bed that was so conveniently within reach. The immediacy of his lust astonished him—he'd never felt this kind of urgency with Kristen or with any other woman.
The only impediment to his lust was Zoe, who was glaring at him with a fierceness that was intimidating. Her expression was the exact opposite of the
one she'd worn a few minutes ago, before Kristen's phone call. She sure could switch directions fast. He'd have to remember that.
"Did I misunderstand, or did Kristen say she might come to Long Shaft?"
"I'm sure she won't."
"If she gives us away, I'll—"
"She won't give us away." He didn't want Zoe to know how worried he was about that.
"If you say so, but I'm not reassured. And there's another thing we need to discuss."
"Okay." He had a pretty good idea what that was.
"What's up with the box of condoms, Flynn? Are they part of your plan to keep the client happy? If so, you flatter yourself. I don't need sex from you. I can get sex any time I want it. Matter of fact, there's a waiting list, and guess what? You're not even on it!"
'The condoms are for Kristen."
"Kristen? How does that work? I thought you said she wouldn't be coming here?"
"She won't."
"In that case, I hate to break it to you, but you don't need condoms for phone sex. They haven't figured out a way for sperm or STDs to travel through that cable. I'm not saying it won't ever be possible, but as of now, you—"
"I packed them when I was getting ready for the Catalina Island trip with Kristen, okay?"
She looked confused. "But that's not until next week."
"I like being prepared." And how he cringed at being forced to reveal what an anal geek he was.
Gradually, understanding replaced the confusion in her eyes. "Let me get this straight. You packed for the trip with Kristen, and when I asked you up here for the weekend, you grabbed the already packed suitcase, forgetting about the Kristen condoms?"
"That's about the size of it."
"Oh." She gazed at him as if lost in thought. "Then why were you so hot to kiss me a few minutes ago?"
There was the really tough question. And hot was the operative word, all right. He wasn't proud of his lack of control. "Unfortunately, I seem to be attracted to you."
"Is that right?" She perked up a little upon hearing that. "Is it a new thing or an old thing?"
Another tough question. "An unrecognized thing. An unacknowledged thing. A thing that has been lying dormant and then suddenly popped up." Whoops. What an incredibly bad choice of words.
"I see."
"In any case, I can guarantee that I didn't count on that when I agreed to this trip. I should have factored it in, but I didn't."
"So you want me, but you don't want to want me."
"That's right. I'm committed to Kristen." Then he remembered he wasn't the only person who was involved with someone else. "For that matter, what about Trace?"
She looked uneasy. "Well, yes. There's Trace."
"Damn right there's Trace." He allowed himself a little male indignation on the part of the wronged Trace Edwards.
"My relationship with him is ... complicated."
"Meaning what, exactly?" He hoped she wouldn't say they had an open relationship, where they could sleep with anybody who took their fancy. He knew that happened in Hollywood, but he didn't like thinking that Zoe subscribed to such a philosophy.
She hesitated.
Flynn decided he had to know what the deal was with Trace. It was important. "Does he care what you do with other guys?"
"Yes, he cares. And you're right. We're each committed to someone, so there can't be any fooling around. Those Kristen condoms threw me, but I'm back on track, now. We'll both be careful from now on."
He wished she wouldn't keep referring to them as Kristen condoms, as if they had his girlfriend's name on them, along with a label that warned against using them for any other purpose. He wouldn't be using them for any other purpose, but still, they were there, in case of an emergency.
And what sort of emergency would that be, Flynn, old man? The kind where Zoe's driving you so crazy you can't keep your pants zipped another minute? God, he hoped he was up to the task of resisting her for the next thirty-six hours. He should have brought a framed picture of Kristen to put on the dresser.
"Flynn, if we're going to manage this, you have to stop looking at me like that."
He snapped out of his lustful daze. "I wasn't looking at you any particular way."
"You were, too. You were looking at me as if you wanted to eat me up with a spoon."
He groaned and ran a hand over his face, as if he could somehow rub off his lustful expression. "Maybe we should just go to bed."
"Do you think that would work? It's worth a try. We might be awful in bed. We probably would be awful in bed. Most couples don't hit it off right away. So we'd have a disastrous experience and be over this problem in a jiffy."
Instantly he was aroused. He didn't think there was a chance in hell they'd be awful in bed, not with the kind of energy they would each bring to the project. "I meant go to bed individually, each in our own rooms."
"Oh." Pink tinged her cheeks. "I misunderstood. I certainly hope you don't think I was being too aggressive for making that suggestion. I was only trying to consider all the possible solutions to our problem."
"I don't think you're being too aggressive." Part of him, the part currently in charge, wouldn't mind if she'd be more aggressive. "But I doubt it would work."
"You think we'd have fun in bed, don't you?"
"Yes." Fun didn't even begin to describe what he thought they'd have.
She nodded. "Me, too. Okay, I'm leaving for my own bedroom now and closing the door. Sleep well."
As she started out the door, an eerie howl filled the night. "Yikes!" Zoe raced back to him and hurled herself into his arms.
Flynn held her tight as the howl came again, sending a chill through him. He had no doubt Bigfoot was out there in the woods, and this could be his chance to see the mythical creature he'd studied so eagerly as a kid. On the other hand, he had a trembling Zoe in his arms and she needed his comfort.
To hell with Bigfoot.
As the second howl died away, Zoe shuddered. She wasn't proud of herself for clinging to Flynn like the peel on a banana, but that howl had totally freaked her out. With the side of her face flattened against his chest, she could hear his heart beating fast, so he might not be all that copacetic with it, either.
"I'm afraid to ask what that was," she said, not moving an inch.
"It's the trademark howl of a Sasquatch."
She tightened her grip on Flynn, noticing in the process how nice that felt, to be hugging her lawyer. Who knew? "I really didn't want that information."
"Sorry."
"It could be a hoax, right? A local businessman running around in a furry suit with a tape recorder under his arm?"
"Possibly."
"You don't sound as if you believe that." She desperately wanted to believe it, even if that meant she had no more excuse to hug Flynn.
"I can't picture a sane person wanting to try it, Zoe. For one thing, you might get shot by someone trying to make a name for himself. For another, if you got caught you'd never live down the humiliation. How many business owners would run that kind of risk just to boost tourism? It's not logical."
"But is a Sasquatch logical?" She liked this—wrapped tight in Flynn's arms, feeling cozy and safe while they discussed the potential existence of Bigfoot. His voice rumbled in her ear, and his body heat was taking away the shivers of dread. Also, she liked the way he stroked her back—firm enough to let her know he was there, yet gentle enough to be soothing.
She wondered what his hands would feel like if he was going for a sexual response. From the way he was touching her now, she suspected he'd know exactly how much pressure to exert. The perfect pressure. Oh, baby.
"Sasquatch is about as logical as the pyramids," he said.
"Huh?" She would have to think a little faster to keep up with this guy.
"We still don't know how the Egyptians built those things, but there they are, solid evidence of an unbelievable architectural feat. Same with the structures the Incas built. Did creatures from outer space land and give them s
ome help? That's one explanation."
She could get used to this business of cuddling with Flynn. "Do you believe in aliens?"
"I pretty much do. Think of the vastness of the universe. I don't know if other beings have made it to this planet yet, but we can't be the only place that supports life. Which leads me to Bigfoot."
"Bigfoot's an alien?"
"That's one possibility."
Flynn's thought processes intrigued her. She never would have expected her sedate, conservative lawyer to believe in Bigfoot and aliens. "Flynn, do you subscribe to the Enquirer?"
"No." He chuckled. "Do you?"
"No. But what you said sounded as if it could be a headline story. I thought you might have read it there."
"I subscribe to the Wall Street Journal and the Harvard Law Review."
"Now that I would believe. That's more like the Flynn I know."
There was a long pause. "You think you know me?"
A subtle change in his tone caused her to look up. She found herself gazing into gray eyes filled with good old-fashioned lust. His dark-rimmed glasses made that lust seem even more potent in a still-waters-run-deep sort of way. As a test, she eased her hips forward, and encountered more evidence that Flynn was fired up and ready to go.
Her heart started racing again, and not from the threat of Sasquatch. Now that she understood what was going on with her nerd mentor, she ought to move away. But she couldn't make herself. A completely aroused Flynn was a new and delicious concept she wanted to savor for a moment.
His voice grew husky. "I've been thinking about that idea you had."
"I've had a dozen ideas recently." But she knew which idea he was talking about. "I've had a hundred."
"Show-off." So much heat was being generated by the places where her body touched his that she wouldn't wonder if their clothes started to smoke.
"All my ideas involve getting naked with you."
Her mouth grew moist. In point of fact, moist was her middle name at this very moment. And what a coincidence: here they were in a bedroom, a bedroom stocked with condoms.
Then she remembered why they had condoms and who they were intended for. Not her. Her conscience began to shoulder its way forward through her misty fog of selfish desire. Flynn belonged to someone else. He'd made that point and they'd been about to retire to separate bedrooms when that ungodly howl had sent her running for safety.
Gone With the Nerd Page 9
