Can't Hardly Breathe

by Gena Showalter

  Thea frowned at Daniel. "No, thanks. Customers come before...whatever you are."

  No way was she getting rid of him this time.

  "Yeah." Jude nudged his shoulder in a very un-Jude-like move. "Customers come first."

  "Then I'd like a room of my own," Daniel announced. "As a paying customer, my happiness is now your top priority."

  Thea stared at him, looking pouty, irritated and excited all at once.

  He reached out and curled his hand around hers, drawing another gasp from her--and a soft hiss from himself. A handful of calluses marred her palm, the friction sparking a thousand fires inside him.

  He could have used this heat every time he'd spent a cold, dark night in the desert, waiting for a target to appear.

  "As the owner," she said, a catch in her voice, "I have the right to refuse potential patrons."

  "I'm afraid I have to insist, Thea. On the room, and the conversation." Before she could issue another refusal, he stalked around the corner and gently but firmly ushered her into the hall, out of view.

  That moment, that very second, he caged her against the wall and nearly forgot the reason he'd demanded the meeting. Those shamrock eyes were wide again, her irises glittering with challenge. Her lips were wet--she'd licked them.

  My turn.

  Not yet, not yet.

  Her curves melted against him, the scent of her teasing his nose. His favorite scent in the world. She'd added vanilla to the mix this time.

  "What are you doing?" she asked, deliciously breathless.

  Besides drinking her in and wishing he were already inside her? "For starters, I'm blackmailing you."

  She gulped. "To blackmail, you have to have leverage. You have none."

  "Don't I?" His gaze slid over her slowly, languidly, and she shivered. "You came to my room naked, sweetheart. I'd say I've got major leverage."

  Before his eyes, her nipples beaded. She pressed her legs together, as if she couldn't assuage a sudden ache.

  That gut punch of lust? Merely the first round.

  This time? TKO.

  "One, you have no proof," she said, her voice a rasp of silk. "Two, you don't want your dad to know."

  "One, I don't need proof. It's my word against yours. Two, my dad will commend me for acting like a gentleman and sending you away." Virgil would also slap him upside the head and mention all the pretty babies Daniel could have with the Strawberry Valley girl.

  "You...you..." She beat her little fists into his shoulders, a catapult of feminine fury. "You better keep quiet. You said you'd never tell."

  "And I never lie. But I do change my mind upon occasion."

  The pulse at the base of her neck raced, just as before. "Why are you doing this?" she asked softly.

  "I told you," he said, and gentled his tone. Just how deep did her hurt and insecurities run? "I'm desperate for you, which means I can't play by the rules. So. To buy my silence, you've got to date me."

  "What!"

  "Let me clarify. You've got to go on five dates with me." Good number. Too few, and he'd get nowhere fast. Too many, and it would be tough to convince either of them he wasn't interested in something long-term. "I'll pick the days, times and locations. I'll even pick what you wear," he said, fighting a smile. Let her worry about changing the details of their dates rather than canceling altogether.

  "Are you freaking kidding me? No way, no how."

  "Let's negotiate, then. What do you want? Ten dates?"

  She sputtered for a moment. "No, I don't want--"

  "Ten dates, and I'll work here free of charge for a week, so you can search for Holly's replacement without worry."

  Her mouth snapped closed, and she rubbed the spot above her heart, where her tattoo was hidden underneath her shirt. This wasn't the first time she'd performed such an action. What did the image mean to her?

  Images always meant something. Jude had gotten a tattoo of a heart with daggers on his chest to memorialize his wife and daughters. Brock had sparrows tattooed on his shoulders, though he refused to talk about why.

  "Five dates," Thea said, "for five weeks of work."

  Playing right into my hands... "Five dates, three weeks. But I have to take this Friday and the next two weekends off. I have jobs in the city."

  Surprise flickered over her expression. Because he'd upped the ante? "Three dates, three weeks," she said. "That's only fair."

  "How right you are. Very well, then. You've got a deal. I'll even help you find Holly's replacement. But your flyer requires a few more qualifications. Like being kind to customers, not chewing gum while talking on the phone and not drawing severed heads on the bills. Oh, and the ability to type legible sentences rather than a series of symbols and emoticons."

  "Holly doesn't--Never mind." Thea's fists opened and, as she dropped her arms to her sides, her fingertips traced the center of his T-shirt, snagging in the cotton. "What if I can't find a suitable replacement within the three-week time frame?"

  I won't rock my throbbing erection between her legs. I won't... "I'll work an extra week or two, depending on my schedule, to give you whatever time you need, and for every extra week, you'll give me another date. Or two. We can renegotiate if it becomes necessary."

  The surprise deepened. She softened against him. He stepped back--perhaps the most difficult thing he'd ever done--and held out his hand.

  "Deal?"

  She peered at the offering before smiling up at him with a feline confidence she'd never before displayed. "You think we're done with our negotiation, don't you? How cute."

  A sizzling bolt of lust sent him stumbling another step backward. What had caused the change?

  Did it matter? If he touched her again, he would kiss her. If he kissed her, he would strip her. If he stripped her, he would take her against the wall. Damn the consequences.

  The official motto for this girl.

  "I'll pick the days, times and locations of our dates." Just to be contrary, he was sure, she added, "I'll also pick what you wear. And you can't tell anyone about anything that happens between us. Not even your friends."

  "You'll control one of the dates," he said, his tone firm. "I'll control the other two. And I won't breathe a word about us to anyone."

  "Well, of course you won't!" she snapped.

  He blinked with confusion. She was ticked that he'd given her exactly what she'd asked for?

  "You won't tell anyone...unless you change your mind, right?" she added.

  "Trust me." Please. "I won't change my mind."

  She crossed her arms over her middle in a clear effort to hide her beaded nipples. "I'll control two dates."

  And insist he wear a hazmat suit? "One date with you in charge," he said, "and you can double my room fee tonight. And Jude's and Brock's."

  Dollars signs practically flashed in her eyes, and he had to swallow a laugh.

  "Fine. But while you work here," she said, "I get to refer to you as my he-ceptionist."

  "Assistant," he countered. "Or favorite person in the world."

  Eye roll. "And just so you know, he-ceptionist, nothing is going to happen between us on those dates. You're going to a lot of trouble for no reason."

  "Oh, something will happen between us, guaranteed. Desire as strong as ours can't be denied for long." He did touch her then. The warmth and satin of her cheek. Took every bit of strength he possessed, but he didn't allow himself to press closer to her...or kiss her. "But guess what? Spending time with you is reward enough. You, Thea Mathis, are sweet, intelligent, witty and charming."

  A tremor swept through her. Her breathing turned shallow.

  Triumph overtook him. "So? Do we have a deal or not?"

  She closed her eyes, her shoulders rolling in. "We...do."

  If he weren't such a self-possessed man, her reluctance might have hurt him. But he was, and it didn't.

  Even still, his tone contained a bit of bite as he said, "Why so gloomy? If you don't want me, you'll have no problem resisting me."
>
  She studied him. Understanding passed over her exquisite features, and compassion wasn't too far behind--compassion that ripped up his freaking heart because it spoke of all the times she'd been rejected in her life.

  "You are a wonderful man, Daniel." How kind she sounded now. How contrite. "You just aren't the one for me."

  "I don't have to be the one." Determined to regain the advantage, he held out his hand, and this time, she took it. Calluses...friction. He brought her knuckles to his mouth and ran his tongue over the ridges. "I just have to be the one right now."

  Goose bumps broke out along her arm. With a yank, she freed herself from his grip and pressed her hand against her chest, using the other one to rub the spot where he'd kissed.

  I'm not the guy for you, honey? Think again.

  "I can check in Jude and Brock today, but afterward I have a few errands to run before I can officially start my duties." Namely, he had to buy supplies for Princess and print flyers about her, just in case her owner lived nearby. Oh, and he had to beat his friends bloody.

  "Okay. All right." She pulled at the collar of her shirt. "I'll take you on our first date...tomorrow. After work. I'll be in charge."

  Resolved and hoping to get their first romantic interlude over with as soon as possible? Her mistake. He'd gained a tactical advantage today, and he would utilize it to his full advantage.

  He unveiled his wickedest smile. "Shall we seal our deal with a kiss?"

  She bristled, saying, "Sure. If you want to kiss my butt."

  "Yes." He fought a grin. "I accept. Bend over."

  Her jaw dropped, and she leaped away from him, pointing a finger at him. "You stay away from me, you hear?"

  "Yes, ma'am. For now." He withdrew the small bottle of nail polish from his pocket. "This is for you. A new color."

  The starch drained from her, and she looked up at him through the thick fan of her lashes. "White with glitter?"

  "To represent passion. Soon you're going to lust for me, and you need to be prepared."

  A sharp intake of breath, her bee-stung lips parted. He leaned closer, intending to kiss her. Can't resist a second more. Just a peck. A precursor for the things to come. Without another word, she spun and darted down the hall, disappearing around the corner. A door slammed.

  "I won't count this as a retreat," he called. Since he'd already solidified their dates. "I'm pretty sure you're running away so you can prepare for tomorrow. You know I like to be wined, dined and sixty--"

  Her screech echoed down the hall. "Shut your piehole, Porter!"

  He laughed with genuine amusement. And it felt good. Odd, but good. They needed to discuss her tendency to bail on him. Or maybe he should give her a reason to stick around?

  Yeah. That one.

  As good as done.

  Whistling like a carefree boy he couldn't remember being, he headed to the lobby to deal with his asshole friends.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  DOROTHEA STAYED UP all night watching online radar, hoping an F-1 or F-2 would blow through the barren fields on the outskirts of town. No one would be hurt and nothing would be damaged, but she'd have a legit distraction from thoughts of Daniel.

  Alas. The storm passed without dropping a single piece of the predicted hail.

  When finally she lay down, thoughts of her tormentor continued to, well, torment her. Why had she agreed to his negotiation? She should have cultivated discord instead of welcoming him closer.

  Face it. I'm about as sharp as a marble.

  Nowadays the only person she could count on was herself, but even she was unreliable.

  Could she really blame herself, though? The lure of free labor had tantalized her. Almost as much as Daniel.

  Thou shalt help when needed.

  Today, when Daniel had looked at her, she'd felt like the most beautiful woman on earth. She'd felt desired. Heck, she was desired. The man was coming at her guns blazing, determined to seduce her into his bed. He was working to win her, as if she were a prize. It was a first for her.

  Sighing dreamily, she clutched a pillow to her chest and rolled to her side.

  Before the bare-her-body-and-soul incident, she would have accepted whatever he offered with a please and thank you, grateful for his attention, no negotiation necessary. But no matter what she'd told him--or herself--she would have crumpled like a tin can when they parted.

  He wouldn't have been a memory to cherish but another nightmare to add to her collection. The newest guy to take what he wanted from her and leave. Unfortunately, such an abysmal outcome wasn't a proper deterrent for her hormones; they hungered; they wanted to devour him.

  They said: Sleep with Daniel once, as originally planned. Or twice. Probably three times. He can be your guilty pleasure. The first you've ever had. You'll enjoy nights of ecstasy. What do consequences matter?

  All she had to lose was her pride. No big deal, right? Been there, done that.

  Except, Daniel planned to hide his association with her, as if he were ashamed of her. So really, more than her pride was at stake. He could destroy the entirety of her self-worth.

  Yes, he wanted to protect his father from disappointment when the relationship ended. When it ended, she reiterated. Not if. Daniel believed the relationship would end, and what he believed would influence every decision he made, dictating the course of his life. Meaning everything he did and said would serve a single purpose: the perpetration of the expected end.

  They would be doomed from the start.

  When the end ultimately came, she would be alone...would feel like a woman without worth.

  I'm worth something, dang it! Her heart was bigger than her thighs. And she might not have a college degree, but she owned a business. Maybe not a successful business, but one with great potential.

  Besides, she wanted to be more than a challenge to a man. She wanted to be special, beloved even. A treasure worth fighting for. Finally! She hadn't been special to her husband, and she certainly hadn't been special to her father.

  Joe Mathis had remarried as soon as the ink dried on his divorce papers. Dorothea and Holly hadn't been invited to the wedding. Certain there'd been some kind of mistake, she'd driven Holly into the city; her sister had been so eager to see their dad and excited to meet their new stepsiblings. His new wife had a son and a daughter of her own, both close to Holly's age.

  Neither Dorothea nor Holly had a chance to even get out of the car. Dad and the kids had been playing a game on the front lawn. He'd laughed and tossed a ball with the boy before twirling the girl through the air. When he'd spotted his girls in the rust bucket, he'd sent the other kids inside a pretty house with white shutters over the windows, closed the distance and crouched beside Holly's open window.

  "Go home, girls," he'd said. "I've started over, and so should you. I don't need reminders of my past."

  No I love you. No I miss you. Just a basic I'm done with you.

  That day was forever branded in Dorothea's mind. It was the last time she'd seen her sister cry. Because, the moment her dad said Go home, girls, all hope had died in Holly. The color had faded from her cheeks. Her lips had pressed together, and her eyes--so like my own--had hardened.

  It was as if Holly's tender side had been cleaved from her soul, leaving her cold inside.

  Remembering, Dorothea fought a sob.

  Men sucked. Why did she even want one?

  She didn't! So. She would continue to resist Daniel. But...if a miracle happened and someone worthy of her came along, she would pursue a relationship with him. Because, dang it, she did want one.

  Sharp as a marble.

  Her alarm screeched to life. Ugh--5:00 a.m. Dorothea groaned, rubbed her dry, burning eyes and stretched her arms over her head. This was a new day. A new opportunity to succeed in areas she had previously failed. Today, her nails would be solid yellow.

  She brushed her teeth and checked her radar apps. A cold front had moved in. She dressed in warm clothes and hooked her iPod to her bicep before h
eading outside to start her morning run.

  The sun hadn't yet risen, the sky filled with stratus and nimbus clouds. Rain clouds. The stratus were flat and spread out, while the nimbus were puffy and dark. A hint of moisture suggested a new storm system brewed.

  By the time she hit her sixth mile, a crack of thunder boomed. She should return to the inn before she experienced an outdoor shower, but Daniel would be working in the lobby today, and she slowed her pace. Not yet ready to see him.

  Wait. Hold up. What the heck was she doing? Daniel Porter wasn't going to chase her away from her own business. Well, not again. Not ever again. On principle, she increased her speed.

  About two blocks away from the inn, a truck pulled up beside her, the breaks squeaking. A squeak she'd heard before. Don't be Daniel. Don't be--

  "Hey, Thea." The vehicle remained at her side, the window rolled down. Daniel hooked an arm over the door, a little tricolored Chihuahua nestled against his chest.

  He had a dog? A tiny creature he nurtured and loved? Be still my heart.

  No, no. Stay strong! "Hi, Daniel." Her heart thumped against her ribs. Because she'd overexerted herself, no other reason. "Headed to the inn to report for your he-ceptionist duties?"

  When she stopped to catch her breath, the truck stopped. Intending to tell him to mosey on, she faced him...but no words escaped. The sun was in the process of rising at last--directly behind him. Of course! The storm clouds hid most of the golden rays, but a few managed to escape and frame Daniel, as if drawn to him.

  This just in: the sun is female.

  "You mean my assistant duties. And the answer is yes. But what are you doin', darlin'?"

  His exaggerated Southern drawl was sexy as heck.

  I'm huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, sweating and generally looking like crap. "Take a wild guess."

  His grin was slow and wicked, making her shiver. "This isn't a guess so much as a statement of fact, but you are definitely turning me on."

  No way. Just no way. "You are not turned on," she blurted out.

  His grin only widened. "I'll stop the truck and show you. Just say the word."

  "No!" Thankfully, there were no other cars on the road to witness her mini heatstroke. "I'll pass."

  "You sure? My you know would love to show off."

  She hesitated. She actually hesitated. "Very sure," she finally said with a nod. No reason to throw the ultimate temptation into her influx of problems.