Red Lily
Page 30
“Harper, I haven’t been able to think about anything else for hours.” Weary of it, she pushed a hand through her hair, then pressed it to her temple. “I just don’t think I can think about it any more tonight.”
“You don’t have to, you just have to answer a question.” When he started to step inside, she gave him a good, solid shove back.
“I didn’t ask you in. And I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in here when I’m not really dressed.”
His eyebrows lifted as he leaned comfortably on the doorjamb. Like he owned the place, she thought. Which, of course, he did.
“Let me point out that you’ve been here for about a year and a half. During that time I’ve somehow managed to restrain myself from jumping you. I think I can continue that policy for another few minutes.”
“You’re feeling pretty snarky, aren’t you?”
“I’d say what I’m feeling is pissed off. Especially if you’re going to be a drama queen and insist we have this conversation with me standing out here and you standing in there.”
The first fat drops began to fall, and he lifted his eyebrows again. Exactly the way his mother did.
“Oh, all right, come in then. No point in you standing out there getting soaked like an idiot.”
“Gee, thanks so much.”
“And leave those doors open.” She jabbed a finger at them because the gesture made her feel more in charge. “Because you’re not staying.”
“Fine.” The wind whipped in through them, chased by a charge of thunder. And he stood, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of ratty jeans, his hip cocked.
She wondered, even through the irritation, why she didn’t drool.
“You know,” he began, “after I more or less—mostly less—calmed down about everything, replayed it in my head some, the way you do, something interesting occurred to me.”
“You going to make a speech or ask your question?”
He inclined his head, an action that managed to look regal despite the jeans, T-shirt, and bare feet. “You’ve done a lot of swiping at me since you came here. I’ve tolerated it pretty well, for certain reasons. I’m about done with that now. But to get back to my point. The interesting thing that occurred to me was timing. Here’s how it plays for me. You come over, make your move, I make one back. We have a moment, a couple of them. You want to take it slow, I get that. Then the next time we’re together, you’re all about now you’re not really interested after all, it was just an impulse, no big, and let’s just be pals.”
“That’s right. And if your question is have I changed my mind—”
“It’s not. Between those two interludes, I get a visit from our resident crazy, who happens to decide to trash my place. My kitchen to be exact, the scene of interlude one. So my question is, how much did that event play into your role in interlude two?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well now you’re just lying, straight to my face.”
Her expression went to pitiful. She could actually feel it move across her face and settle in. “I wish you’d go away, Harper. I’m tired, and I have a headache. It hasn’t been the easiest day for me.”
“You pulled back because you figured she didn’t like us together. Enough that she fired what we could call a warning shot.”
“I pulled back because I pulled back. And that should be enough.”
“It would be, would have to be, if that were true. If that was all. I’m not going to push myself on you, on any woman who doesn’t want me. I’ve got too much pride for that, and I was raised better.”
He straightened, took another step toward her. “And those are the exact same reasons I don’t walk away from a fight anymore than I let somebody stand in front of me if there’s trouble.”
He angled his head again, rocked on his heels. “So don’t even think about getting in my way on this, Hayley, about stepping aside from something to protect me from her.”
She cupped her elbows. “You say you won’t push, but I feel pushed, so—”
“I’ve wanted you since the first minute I saw you.”
Her arms went limp, simply fell to her sides. “You have not.”
“The first moment—it was like being blasted with light. Went straight through me.” With his eyes on hers, he tapped a fist on his chest. “I think I stuttered. I could hardly speak.”
“Oh God.” She pressed a hand to her heart, hoping that would hold it in place. “That’s a lousy thing to say to me.”
“Maybe.” His lips twitched, his eyes warmed. “I’ll just follow it up with some lousy behavior then.” He reached out, drew her against him.
“Harper, this really isn’t something we should—” It was some move, or so she would think when she could think again. With a subtle shift, a tiny bump, they were fitted together. Angle to angle, line to line so that every inch of her body felt the jolt.
“Oh,” she murmured. “Uh-oh.”
A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth, then that mouth was on hers. Hot and warm and sweet, like liquid sugar. The kiss was a slow, irresistible seduction, a drugging of the senses, as his hands cruised over her, a light and lazy touch. A touch, she thought mistily, of a man confident enough to take his time—sure enough that he had plenty of it.
And his lips rubbed silkily over hers until she’d have sworn she felt her own shimmer.
It was like being gradually, skillfully, thoroughly melted, body and will, heart and mind, until what choice was there really, but surrender?
She moaned for him, that soft, helplessly pleasured sound. And she yielded, degree by erotic degree, until the fingers that had gripped his shoulders went lax.
When he eased back, her eyes were blurred, her lips parted.
“Hayley?”
“Mmm.”
“That’s not the response of a woman who isn’t interested.”
She managed to get her hand on his shoulder again, but it wasn’t much of a push. “That wasn’t really fair.”
“Why not?”
“Because . . . that mouth.” She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping down to it. “You should need a license to kiss that way.”
“You don’t have to, you just have to answer a question.” When he started to step inside, she gave him a good, solid shove back.
“I didn’t ask you in. And I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in here when I’m not really dressed.”
His eyebrows lifted as he leaned comfortably on the doorjamb. Like he owned the place, she thought. Which, of course, he did.
“Let me point out that you’ve been here for about a year and a half. During that time I’ve somehow managed to restrain myself from jumping you. I think I can continue that policy for another few minutes.”
“You’re feeling pretty snarky, aren’t you?”
“I’d say what I’m feeling is pissed off. Especially if you’re going to be a drama queen and insist we have this conversation with me standing out here and you standing in there.”
The first fat drops began to fall, and he lifted his eyebrows again. Exactly the way his mother did.
“Oh, all right, come in then. No point in you standing out there getting soaked like an idiot.”
“Gee, thanks so much.”
“And leave those doors open.” She jabbed a finger at them because the gesture made her feel more in charge. “Because you’re not staying.”
“Fine.” The wind whipped in through them, chased by a charge of thunder. And he stood, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of ratty jeans, his hip cocked.
She wondered, even through the irritation, why she didn’t drool.
“You know,” he began, “after I more or less—mostly less—calmed down about everything, replayed it in my head some, the way you do, something interesting occurred to me.”
“You going to make a speech or ask your question?”
He inclined his head, an action that managed to look regal despite the jeans, T-shirt, and bare feet. “You’ve done a lot of swiping at me since you came here. I’ve tolerated it pretty well, for certain reasons. I’m about done with that now. But to get back to my point. The interesting thing that occurred to me was timing. Here’s how it plays for me. You come over, make your move, I make one back. We have a moment, a couple of them. You want to take it slow, I get that. Then the next time we’re together, you’re all about now you’re not really interested after all, it was just an impulse, no big, and let’s just be pals.”
“That’s right. And if your question is have I changed my mind—”
“It’s not. Between those two interludes, I get a visit from our resident crazy, who happens to decide to trash my place. My kitchen to be exact, the scene of interlude one. So my question is, how much did that event play into your role in interlude two?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well now you’re just lying, straight to my face.”
Her expression went to pitiful. She could actually feel it move across her face and settle in. “I wish you’d go away, Harper. I’m tired, and I have a headache. It hasn’t been the easiest day for me.”
“You pulled back because you figured she didn’t like us together. Enough that she fired what we could call a warning shot.”
“I pulled back because I pulled back. And that should be enough.”
“It would be, would have to be, if that were true. If that was all. I’m not going to push myself on you, on any woman who doesn’t want me. I’ve got too much pride for that, and I was raised better.”
He straightened, took another step toward her. “And those are the exact same reasons I don’t walk away from a fight anymore than I let somebody stand in front of me if there’s trouble.”
He angled his head again, rocked on his heels. “So don’t even think about getting in my way on this, Hayley, about stepping aside from something to protect me from her.”
She cupped her elbows. “You say you won’t push, but I feel pushed, so—”
“I’ve wanted you since the first minute I saw you.”
Her arms went limp, simply fell to her sides. “You have not.”
“The first moment—it was like being blasted with light. Went straight through me.” With his eyes on hers, he tapped a fist on his chest. “I think I stuttered. I could hardly speak.”
“Oh God.” She pressed a hand to her heart, hoping that would hold it in place. “That’s a lousy thing to say to me.”
“Maybe.” His lips twitched, his eyes warmed. “I’ll just follow it up with some lousy behavior then.” He reached out, drew her against him.
“Harper, this really isn’t something we should—” It was some move, or so she would think when she could think again. With a subtle shift, a tiny bump, they were fitted together. Angle to angle, line to line so that every inch of her body felt the jolt.
“Oh,” she murmured. “Uh-oh.”
A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth, then that mouth was on hers. Hot and warm and sweet, like liquid sugar. The kiss was a slow, irresistible seduction, a drugging of the senses, as his hands cruised over her, a light and lazy touch. A touch, she thought mistily, of a man confident enough to take his time—sure enough that he had plenty of it.
And his lips rubbed silkily over hers until she’d have sworn she felt her own shimmer.
It was like being gradually, skillfully, thoroughly melted, body and will, heart and mind, until what choice was there really, but surrender?
She moaned for him, that soft, helplessly pleasured sound. And she yielded, degree by erotic degree, until the fingers that had gripped his shoulders went lax.
When he eased back, her eyes were blurred, her lips parted.
“Hayley?”
“Mmm.”
“That’s not the response of a woman who isn’t interested.”
She managed to get her hand on his shoulder again, but it wasn’t much of a push. “That wasn’t really fair.”
“Why not?”
“Because . . . that mouth.” She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping down to it. “You should need a license to kiss that way.”
