by Joy Avery
Roth relaxed back against the chair, then crossed his ankle over his knee. “I like her and I haven’t even met her yet.”
Alonso shot Roth a scowl and Roth flashed his palms in mock surrender.
Alonso drew his hands to his waist. “This shit doesn’t happen to me. Did I tell you she tried to cancel our date this past Friday and I damn near begged her not to? I wanted to see her that bad.” He stopped, tossed his head back and grunted a sound of pure pain. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“It all makes sense now. You’re afraid of her.”
Alonso whipped his head toward Roth so fast he was surprised it didn’t spring off his shoulders. “Afr—Psh. That’s laughable.”
“It may be laughable—” Roth studied him with a narrow-eyed gaze “—but it’s true. You’re afraid of this woman. Why?”
The only problem with his best friend: sometimes the man knew him better than he knew himself. Defeated, Alonso propped himself against the edge of his desk, crossed his arms over his chest and dipped his head. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe Roth was right. Maybe he was afraid of Vivian. Afraid of the thoughts that always included her. Afraid of how comfortable he was talking to her. Afraid of the way she made him feel when he was with her.
Alonso shrugged. “You’re right.” He lifted his head to eye Roth. “You. Are. Right. I’m afraid.” Damn. Had he just admitted that out loud?
Before Roth could respond, Alonso’s assistant’s voice boomed over the speaker. “Mr. Wright, there’s a Vivian Moore here to see you.”
Alonso’s brow arched. What was Vivian doing there?
“Looks like I’ll finally get to meet the woman who has you completely whipped.”
Alonso shot Roth the bird. “Send her in, Jessica.” He pushed from his desk and ironed a hand down his shirt.
“You look fine, man,” Roth joked.
The second Vivian entered his office, Alonso knew something was wrong. That warm and welcoming expression she normally wore was now a mix of disappointment and anger. Was she upset he hadn’t called her? “Hey,” he said, approaching her.
“May I speak with you a moment?” Her gaze cut briefly to Roth. “In private.”
Uh-oh.
On cue, Roth stood. “I’ll wait for you out front.”
Any other time Alonso would have taken the opportunity to introduce the two, but Vivian didn’t appear to be much into being cordial at the moment. When the door clicked shut, Alonso directed Vivian to the chair Roth had occupied.
“I’m not interested in sitting, Alonso.” She snatched something from her purse and shoved it toward him. “Did you have something to do with this?”
Alonso accepted the paper. City of Raleigh was printed across the top, along with the word NOTICE in red block letters. After skimming the contents, he groaned to himself. Although he had nothing to do with this, he still felt guilty, because he had a pretty good idea of who was responsible. Garth. “You really think I have something to do with this?”
“I was told that’s what you developers do. He also said when they don’t get what they want they resort to these types of underhanded tactics.”
He? At that moment, the mystery he became the urgent part of the conversation. Who was he, and how did he fit into Vivian’s life? What was Alonso worried about? No way could they be romantically involved, right?
Nah. If they were, Vivian would have never spent an evening with him. And she certainly wouldn’t have stuck her tongue down his throat. A hint of calm—and relief—settled over him.
Refocusing on the conversation, he said, “He was right. That is a tactic used by some developers.” He shook his head and waved the paper in the air. “But not me. I don’t have to get down and dirty like this.” But he had in the past.
“Sure.”
Vivian snatched the paper from his hand, the crisp, sharp edge slicing into his hand. “Ahh, shit.” A trickle of blood rolled along his palm. “Shit.”
Vivian’s eyes widened and her hardened expression turned to one of urgent concern. She dropped the paper and her purse to the floor and captured his hand. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”
“Who would have guessed you were so abusive?” When her apologetic eyes rose to meet his, all he wanted to do was yank her into his arms and kiss the hell out of her. And this time, there would be no pulling away.
“Do you have a first aid kit?”
He head nodded toward his personal facilities. “In the bathroom.”
Vivian led him across the room, holding his hand as if he’d severed several fingers instead of suffering a minor paper cut. When they entered, the motion-activated lights lit the room.
“Wow, this is nicer than my master bath,” she said.
He couldn’t confirm or deny that claim...yet.
Alonso leaned against the edge of the marble countertop while Vivian scoured the first aid kit. While she worked on his wound, he watched her, studied her, fell deeper into her alluring web.
Without looking up, she said, “What?”
Alonso snapped out of his trance. “What, what?”
“I can feel your eyes on me.”
He gave a slight head shake. “Nothing.” She couldn’t handle what was racing through his mind. “You like helping people.”
“Was that a question?”
“No, an observation.”
Her eyes met his, but only for a second. “Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
She donned a confused expression when she brought her gaze up again. “Why, what?”
“Why do you like helping people?”
“Do I really need a reason to help someone?”
“No, I guess not. Why are you helping me? Especially when five minutes ago you looked as if you wanted to gut me and leave me in the woods for wild animals to feast on.”
“So dramatic.” She swiped at his injury. “I’m helping you because you’re bleeding.” Her tone lowered. “And...it’s kinda my fault.”
He barked a laugh. “Kinda?”
“Okay, okay, all my fault.”
When Alonso brushed a hair from her face, she tensed. “Sorry. I gotta learn to keep my hands to myself.” With Vivian, he deemed it an impossible feat.
“My Nina—grandmother—used to always tell me we had two hands for a reason. One to help ourselves, and one to help others. I help people because it makes me feel good. I help people because it’s what I was taught. I help people because it’s the right thing to do.”
The qualities this woman possessed were just as attractive as her beautiful face and body. He guided his thoughts away from the sinful things he wanted to do to her. “So, how many stitches am I going to need, Nurse Vivian?” Vivian’s laughter was truly one of the most glorious sounds he’d ever heard.
“Men.”
With a Q-tip, she smoothed antiseptic cream on his cut. Her touch was gentle. Just what he’d expect from her. How would her touch be while they made love? Would her hands grip his biceps as he drove deep inside her? Or maybe glide along his sweat-slickened back as he brought her to a climax.
Oh, the possibilities. I’ve never met a woman like you, Vivian Moore. “The kiss was nice.”
She paused a moment, but recovered quickly. “It was a mistake.”
A mistake? Was she serious? “It didn’t feel like a mistake.” He eyed her, intently waiting for a response.
Finally, her eyes settled on him. “It was, and I owe you an apology.”
“I don’t accept it.”
“Well, that is your right. All done.” She collected the trash and tossed it into the basket.
“Have dinner with me again.”
“No.”
Damn. She could have acted as if she’d at least given it a second of thought. “No? Why?”
/> “I’m busy.”
He laughed. “We haven’t even discussed a day, so how do you know you’re busy?”
Vivian exited the bathroom with Alonso on her heels. When she stopped—abruptly—he nearly collided into her. Clearly, she’d just now noticed the 3-D display. But her eyes didn’t linger on it long. Instead, they moved to the view outside his window—the unobstructed view of her old neighborhood. Taking a step or two closer, she stared out as if in a trance.
“I have to go,” she said, backing away. Collecting her purse and the letter, she hurried to the door.
Alonso rushed past her and blocked her escape. “What is it, Vivian? What about me spooks you?”
She placed her hand against his chest, then reclaimed it quickly. “Please move.”
“Why—”
“Because I don’t trust you, Alonso.” Her tone lowered to almost a whisper. “I don’t trust you.”
“You don’t trust me now, but you will. I guarantee it.”
Alonso stepped aside and allowed her to run from him. He didn’t intend on letting her get too far.
Chapter 8
Vivian homed in on the local news and their special coverage of the hurricane that had hit the coast and the devastation it’d left behind. Millions of dollars in property damage, flooding, power outages. Thankfully, there had been no loss of life. Her heart went out to all affected.
Raleigh had gotten rain and high winds. The wind had caused some damage, but they’d fared much better than their counterparts two hours east.
A call for volunteers scrolled across the bottom of the screen. I should go. She didn’t have to return to work for another week and a half. Why not? She needed something to take her mind off Alonso. No man had ever gotten to her the way he had.
Shaking off the thoughts of him, she lifted the cordless phone from the table. Before she could place the call to the help line, the doorbell rang. “Well, it’s about time.”
Tressa should have been here two hours ago. Vivian doubted her tardiness was her fault. Cyrus. Vivian wanted so badly to tell her friend she didn’t believe Cyrus was the man for her and that she definitely shouldn’t marry him after only a few months of dating, but was it really her place?
The part of Vivian that loved Tressa like a blood sister said yes. The part that was finally seeing Tressa happy urged her to tend to her own damn business. The more mindful part asked the question: Who are you to judge? She certainly wasn’t the authority on men. She allowed a man to run off with her life savings and another to scramble her thoughts.
Vivian just prayed that the not-so-good feeling she had about Cyrus was just her being an overprotective friend and nothing more. Pulling open the door, she said, “Well, it’s about—” The smile slid from her face, and she swallowed her unsaid words.
Alonso’s domineering presence slammed into her like an unmanned train, taking her breath away. Several seconds of gawking at him foolishly passed. Finally rediscovering her voice, she said, “Alonso...?” That was all that would come out.
They hadn’t spoken to each other since she’d visited his office the day before. The cordial thing to do would have been to invite him inside. But the lustful demon crawling just under the surface of her skin suggested inviting him in was probably a bad idea.
Ultimately, good upbringing won out. But she vowed to keep a safe distance between them. Stepping aside, she made a sweeping motion with her hand. “Come in.”
When he strolled past, the scent of his cologne teased and paralyzed her all at the same time. God, you smell amazing. A quick reel of the last time he’d been there played in her head. Two fingers pressed against her lips as she recalled how perfect his mouth felt against hers.
Focus, Vivian. Focus.
When Alonso rotated to face her, she jolted and dropped her hand. A look of confusion flashed across his face, but faded just as quickly. Cradling herself in her arms, she tilted her head and steadied a questioning gaze on him. “What are you doing here, Alonso?”
Alonso’s eyes slid along her neck and she swore she could feel his touch. A wave of nervousness crashed through her. This man knew how to wreak havoc on her body. His daunting eyes resettled on hers and her breathing grew unsteady.
“I apologize for stopping by unannounced.” His focus slid past her to the door. “You were expecting someone else?”
Of course she was. She was expecting anyone but him. “Yes.”
“Ah.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “A date?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Maybe a mislead, but not a lie.
“Hmm.”
She hadn’t missed the moment his jaw tightened, then relaxed. Did the idea of another man entertaining her somehow trouble him? If so, why? There was definitely nothing between them. Heck, they weren’t even friends.
“Anyway. My hand... I think it’s infected.”
Was he serious? The cut hadn’t been any bigger than an eyelash. “And you chose to come here, rather than your physician’s office?”
“Considering you’re the one who maimed me—”
“Maimed?” She barked a laugh. “I’ve seen toddlers with more severe knee scrapes who didn’t make as much of a fuss as you.” Vivian wasn’t oblivious to what he was trying to do, but she went along with his game. Holding out her hand, she said, “Let me see.”
“Ouch. Are you trying to hurt my feelings?”
“I seriously doubt you bruise so easily.”
Alonso chuckled that dizzying sound and offered his hand. For someone who sat behind a desk all day, he had the hands of a workingman. Not overly rough, but his hands weren’t as soft as she’d assumed a man in his position would have.
“So, what do you think, Nurse Moore?”
She released his hand. “I think you’re full of it. There’s nothing wrong with your hand. But of course you knew that already.”
He flashed a wicked smile. “Okay, I confess. It may have been a ploy.”
“I don’t like games, Alonso.”
“Neither do I.”
The pointed expression on his face rattled her. Obviously his words had been directed at her. A hard silence fell between them. She truly wanted to dislike this man. Not because he was a horrible person, but because she could see herself actually liking him.
“Come away with me.”
Alonso’s words banged her back to reality with a brutal jar. “Excuse me?”
“Come away with me. To the—”
Yeah, she thought that was what he said. “Why would I do that?”
“What better way to build trust than a road trip to hel—”
“Ha. You and I both know that’s not a good idea.”
Alonso folded his arms across his chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “Really? Why?”
Why? Was this his attempt at getting her to admit her attraction to him? Not. Gonna. Happen. “Because... Just because.”
“Ahh. That trust thing you mentioned in my office. Let me ask you something.” He rubbed two fingers along his jaw. “Is it me you don’t trust...or yourself?”
The questions angered her. A true sign of guilt. “I—” Before she could finish her thought, the doorbell rang. Her feet remained rooted to the floor. The doorbell rang again, followed by several knocks.
“You should probably get that. You shouldn’t keep him waiting. Not all men like that.”
Vivian rolled her eyes as she moved away from Alonso to go to the door.
Tressa barreled in. “Whose Maserati is that in—” She paused when she spotted Alonso. “Oh.”
A slow smile crept across Tressa’s face and Vivian could just read the woman’s mind. Vivian stood by the door. “Thank you for stopping by, Alonso.”
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Tressa asked. “
You should come to lunch with us.”
What the... Oh, she was going to strangle Tressa.
“Thanks for the invitation, but I have some things to take care of before I head to the coast.”
Fine lines etched in Tressa’s forehead. Vivian had to admit she was curious, too, since she’d just heard about the damage there. Surely he wasn’t going to scout possible properties to purchase at a time like this.
“The coast?” Tressa asked, taking the words out of Vivian’s mouth. “I hear it’s bad there.”
“I’m volunteering. Figured I could put my skills to good use.”
“Wow. Good-looking and kindhearted. Isn’t that something, Vivian?”
Oh, you are a dead woman. “Yep. Something.”
“That sounds right up Vi’s alley. I’m sure she’d love to go. Put her skills to good use, too.”
“Actually, I invited her.” Alonso glanced in Vivian’s direction. “But she declined.”
So the coast was the come away with me he’d meant. Why had he made it sound like he’d wanted to whisk her away to some exotic island? Or maybe that’s just what she’d heard.
Tressa rested her hands on her hips. “Really?”
Alonso and Tressa stared at Vivian as if she’d committed an unforgivable atrocity and was about to be staked for it. “Thank you for stopping by, Alonso.”
He chuckled, then smoothed his palm across his cheek. Removing his wallet, he fished inside and passed a hundred-dollar bill to Tressa. “You ladies enjoy your lunch date.”
Vivian snatched the note from Tressa and shoved it back to Alonso. “Thank you, but no thank you.”
Alonso eyed her but remained silent. If she had to guess, there was plenty he wanted to say. Luckily, he simply accepted the bill, smiled and strolled past her. Vivian didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the door clicked shut.
“Oh. My. Sweet. Jesus. You two should come with a label—beware of flames. The chemistry between the two of you is off the freaking chart. When he looks at you, there’s nothing but raw desire in his eyes. So please tell me why in the hell you just let that fine-ass man get away. You should have told him you’d travel with him to the damn moon and back.”
