Teresa Hill – Runaway Vegas Bride / Vegas Two-Step: Runaway Vegas Bride / Vegas Two-Step (страница 9)
“It’s all red and puffy now,” she complained, sighing heavily, her warm breath brushing across his cheek, his ear.
He shivered just a bit, wondering what she’d do if he pushed her backward to lay on the couch, stretched out on top of her and started giving a few orders of his own. Would she give him a smile and wind her arms around him? More likely, she’d try to hit him again or really put his eye out this time.
The woman thought she was a champion kickboxer, after all.
Wyatt grinned, laughing a bit, unable to help himself.
“What? There’s nothing funny about this. I feel terrible, Wyatt.”
“Well, I don’t,” he said. “It’s really nothing, Jane. I can hardly feel it anymore. I assure you, I’m fine.” As long as she didn’t figure out where his thoughts were going at the moment.
She put the ice pack aside and came up with some kind of ointment, which she then very carefully spread with her fingertips along his eyelid, his brow and the side of his face. And as she got closer and concentrated harder on getting it in exactly the right place and not his eye, her body leaned into the side of his, one breast pressed against his shoulder.
He felt like someone had installed a giant neon Trouble sign in his apartment when he wasn’t looking, and that it had just flickered on and was blinking in a fire-engine red color.
He had real problems to deal with. Leo and his penchant for getting kicked out of retirement complexes had Wyatt worried that there would be no place in all of Maryland that would take his uncle, once Ms. Steele put the word out about him. And the easiest way to fix that problem was for Wyatt and Jane to work together.
If he made her mad, came on to her, offended her, hurt her, he doubted they’d be working together to solve the Leo problem any longer. So Ms. Jane Carlton was definitely off-limits. It would be more trouble in the long run than any short-term fling with her would be worth.
So what if she smelled really good? And had the sweetest, gentlest touch in a little spitfire of a body? Which he suspected no man had ever properly awakened before. Surely he was capable of exercising some kind of discipline where a woman was concerned.
He shifted his weight, thinking to ease away from her, and instead, set her off balance and her whole body fell against his. No question now. Those were her breasts pressed against him, her neck and her sweet, sassy Jane mouth right at the corner of his own.
She gasped in surprise, her eyes suddenly all big and round and so close to his, not blinking. Neither of them breathed for an instant.
He could have her flat on her back in a moment. Or take her by her thighs and pull her across his lap facing him, palm those pretty hips he’d had pressed against him earlier and pull her tight against him. He knew it, and if he knew anything about women, she was thinking the same thing.
“Jane,” he whispered, hardly able to believe he was actually doing this, taking her arms in his hands and steadying her, then easing her away from him, to sit on her knees on the cushion beside him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to throw you off balance like that.”
She just looked at him, sexy and baffled and maybe embarrassed, which was the last thing he wanted.
“And I’m just not sure what you want here,” he confessed. “But I know what I want, and I really don’t want to offend you.”
She seemed a little dazed, innocent.
“What I want?”
“Yes,” he said.
“I.I was just trying to fix your eye.”
“Okay.” He smiled what he hoped was an I-understand-perfectly smile and not an I-wanted-to-jump-your-bones one. “That’s what I thought you were doing. My mistake.”
“Mistake?”
She looked a little sad then, a little embarrassed. He could feel her withdrawing from him, even though she hadn’t actually moved an inch.
“I’m just. I’m a guy, okay? Some women would say, I’m not a very nice guy. That I…well, when a woman gets this close and is…touching me…I get ideas. Ideas that, I’m afraid, were not the same ideas you were having, and…well, you’re a beautiful woman, Jane.”
She scrambled to get off the couch, to get away from him, hot color blooming in her cheeks as she got all flustered. “You thought…I was coming on to you?”
He nodded, thinking honesty probably wasn’t the best policy here, that he’d offended her, when, he swore to God, he’d been trying to do the exact opposite. To keep from offending her.
Come on to her and offend her? Don’t come on to her and still offend her?
What was a guy to do?
“I am so sorry,” she said.
“Jane, it’s no big deal—
She blushed even more furiously. “I would never—”
“Never?” Now that hurt. “Never?”
“I’m not. I mean to say, I don’t—”
“Don’t what?” Now he had to know. Never with anyone? No way. Not in this day and age. Or no way, no how, with him? That seemed like overstating it a bit. “What do you mean, never?”
“I don’t…throw myself at men.”
Okay, that he believed, though in his thoroughly male opinion it was a shame.
The world should be full of women who threw themselves at men. Of course, it was, he’d found, but not many of those women were like Jane.
“I’m sorry. For everything. And I just. I have to go,” she said.
“You really don’t,” he claimed.
“I do.” She turned and fled.
Wyatt swore softly and succinctly, his body humming with desire, still feeling her pressed against him, her soft hands on his face.
He was an idiot. A complete idiot where women like her were concerned.
Jane Carlton did not come on to men.
At least, she didn’t think she did.
She didn’t mean to.
Her face burned when she remembered being on the couch with Wyatt the day before. He’d thought she was making a pass at him? And he’d been trying to say…he’d welcome that?
“You’re frowning again,” Lainie said, standing in the doorway with a batch of message slips with Jane’s calls on them. “What in the world happened to you yesterday?”
Jane, if puzzling over anyone’s behavior except Wyatt’s, would have normally turned to Gram and Gladdy for advice on men. Between the two of them, she doubted there was any situation Jane might find herself in that they hadn’t already been in themselves. But she couldn’t talk to them about Wyatt. Not when she was trying to keep his uncle away from both of them.
She figured Lainie was her best shot for help here.
“Can I ask you something about men?” Jane blurted out before she lost her nerve.
Lainie giggled.
“Why is that so funny?” Jane asked, finding Lainie’s reaction slightly offensive, maybe more than slightly.
“It’s not funny. I’m just so happy, Jane!” she said, like Jane had announced she was eloping or something.
“It’s just a question.”
“Okay. Go ahead. Please.” Lainie sounded so eager. “Anything I can do to help.”
“You think I need help with men?”
“Oh, definitely.”
No hesitation there. Jane pictured herself as a virtual wrecking yard of relationships, like there might be a sign that said,
“It’s about…coming on to men,” she said, wishing she’d never started this whole thing.