Drive Me Crazy (3 page)

“I really appreciate the ride back to Oregon, and I’m not against stopping to see things you want to see, but I’d like to be clued into this plan of yours.”

“As long as we’re there before the big day, what does it matter how we get to Oregon? There’s no need to control everything.”

Her heart raced and she fought to contain the anger threatening to send her voice into the upper octaves. She could compromise, really she could. “I’m not suggesting we plot out every gas-station stop, but we should know when and where we’re stopping at night. We don’t want to be zooming down the freeway in the fast lane and miss an exit or a freeway interchange. We need a clear plan in mind.”

A few minutes ago she’d thought she knew the way home by heart, but now she wasn’t so sure. She took one route in the summer because it was shorter, another in the winter to avoid the higher passes. What if she wound up lost in the mid-West with a Frenchman who placed no value on her personal property? How could she possibly explain this to her sister? Her mother?

“I promise we’ll make it in time for the wedding festivities. And you won’t have to worry about staying in some chain motel. It will be my treat.”

As if she would be willing to be beholden to him. “I can pay my own way.” A mournful wind howled at the mottled sky. Really, she hated driving in storms. The sooner they got off the road, the safer they’d be. And the time would give her a chance to think of a way to make the man see reason.

“If I’m paying, then I don’t have to worry about looking for a Holiday Motel.” He set his blinker and changed lanes as another sign for Bedford flashed by them.

What was she supposed to do? Demand he drive her to Pittsburgh so she could get on a bus? A part of her screamed yes. Another part yelled back that she didn’t really want to get home any faster than she had to. She was tired of always taking the safe road, always needing to organize and manage everything. It hadn’t exactly worked well for her as of late.

Still, if she had any hope of convincing him to do things her way, she needed to better know her opponent. Just like with her students. If she could find what motivated him, she could steer him in the right direction.

She tucked one foot under her leg and studied Xavier’s profile. He had the chiseled masculine beauty rarely found outside of magazine ads. There was something more too, an intelligence and playfulness behind the handsome veneer that could be her undoing. If she didn’t keep her defenses up, she might end up doing his bidding for a smile the way she’d wound up with boys’ homework in high school.

“So, Frank Lloyd Wright is an obsession of yours. Are you an architect?”

He shook his head. “The only things I build are spreadsheets, but I’ve always admired his work. Someday I’d like to design a home.”

She could see the advantage to that. Creating something that was completely your own in every way. “Spreadsheets? Are you an accountant?”

“Of sorts.” He took the exit from the freeway. “How do you feel about staying at a haunted hotel?”

“You planned this, didn’t you?” Jaime sounded only slightly annoyed. Her ire about their misadventure must be waning.

“You think?” Xavier grinned up at her before she turned and started up the narrow stairway to the attic. He’d planned having her ahead of him on the stairs so he could appreciate the way her hips swayed when she climbed, but he hadn’t exactly planned on visiting the haunted inn. He’d seen a brochure for the place in the lobby of his hotel in DC. Visiting a haunted house was on the list of things to do on this trip, and he figured sleeping in one would be even better. He didn’t buy into ghosts and all that, but he didn’t want to miss the opportunity, and he sure as hell didn’t want to sleep in a roadside motel.

At the top of the stairs, she stepped aside and he turned the skeleton key in the lock and pushed open the door to the attic suite. The colonial atmosphere of the former farmhouse was just as strong here as it had been in the large foyer downstairs. Chestnut beams reinforced the slanted ceiling, thick fieldstone walls gave the impression of stepping back in time, and an enormous fireplace took possession of the room.

Wood-plank floors creaked as he explored the space. On the left was a tiny room smaller than his sister’s shoe closet. Only room enough for a pencil-post twin bed covered in an heirloom quilt.

The main room had a severe square table and simple chairs, a rag-hook rug lay next to a large bed. He wouldn’t fit on the twin, but offering to take it was the proper thing to do. Sometimes it sucked to have been raised right.

“This quilt is gorgeous,” Jaime said, stepping into the smaller room. She slid her bag to the floor so her hands were free to run along the faded material. She turned to face him, a coquettish tilt to her chin.

“Do you really think it’s wise to stay at a haunted hotel on a dark and stormy night?”

“It’s brilliant, unless you believe in ghosts.” His gaze stuck on her lips, full and ripe as summer fruit, beckoning to be savored.

“You’ve never heard anything go bump in the night?” Her dark eyelashes fluttered suggestively. Sexual hunger coiled in the pit of his stomach, but he reined it in.

When the manager said there was only one room left panic had frozen on her features, only thawing when she realized there were separate bedrooms. She seemed to be warming to the idea of enjoying the adventure of a road trip, but he didn’t want to push her too soon. “Do you believe in ghosts?” He couldn’t help his lips curling just a small bit.

She shook her head. “I do wonder why we’re here, at a bed and breakfast known for stories of unexplained sightings.”

“It was your idea to stop for the night.”

“Not
here
.” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Did you read the plaque downstairs? People have been murdered in this house.”

“Hence the ghosts.” He reached for her shoulder, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. Her golden skin was warm and soft beneath his hand, and entirely too tempting. He released her and shoved his hand into the pocket of his cargo shorts. “Not to worry, J’aime. No one has been killed here in the last century.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, thanks. I feel much better now.”

“If it helps, you can sleep in my bed.” He gave a teasing wink. “I’ll be there if something goes bump in the night.”

The laugh was back, igniting a sparkle in her dark eyes. “No doubt you’d be the cause of it. I’m just fine on my own, thanks.”

She turned away and walked to the window in the main room. When she pulled open the thick curtain, they could see rain sheeting against the glass. The thunderstorm gave the place an eerie edge he hadn’t counted on.

But then, perhaps the electricity in the air had nothing to do with lightning or the supernatural, but with the sexy woman silhouetted in the window. Jaime Cruz had flattened his expectations and piqued his interest. They lived on different continents, led different lives and had different views on how to vacation. Perhaps it was this fleeting freedom of being on holiday that drew him to her.

Knowing it was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission, Xavier moved behind her. He braced his hands on the sill on either side of her body. He didn’t watch the storm, but the dark reflection of her soulful brown eyes in the glass.

“We should grab dinner in the restaurant downstairs, and then get to bed early.” Jaime’s smile reflected in the window, and she probably caught his image there as well. “We have a lot of ground to make up tomorrow.”

Oh, she just didn’t get it. He moved his hands over hers, splaying her fingers. “Bed sounds good.”

“Dinner sounds better. I missed lunch.” She slid her hands from beneath his, then wrapped her arms around her middle and turned her face to him, still bracketed between his body and the window. “What do you think is going to happen here?” Her warm, sweet voice unfurled a curl of longing within him.

“Something exciting.”

She leveled her gaze at him. “I doubt they serve anything but the basics downstairs.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll stay up here.”

She shook her head, her thick brown hair caressing her bared shoulders. “The only thing going on in this room tonight will be sleep. And before we sleep, we’re going to see what’s edible downstairs.”

“I’m not one of your students, so you can’t tell me what to do. In fact I think I could teach you a few things.”

“Do you, now?” She used a schoolmarm voice he’d bet worked like a charm and pulled her shoulders back.

He stood up straight to give her more room. “You need to learn to celebrate life, take pleasure wherever you find it.” He reached out and traced her lower lip with his finger. “When was the last time you did something truly exciting?”

Wide eyed, she stared up at him, and he couldn’t help himself. Tilting his head to the side, he leaned in and slanted his mouth against hers, tasting her excitement for the unknown.

Chapter Three

Every cell of her body warmed at his kiss. Reality blurred around the edges, allowing fantasy to reign as her mouth opened to his. He tasted as fresh as water, smelled as clean as soap and kissed with a controlled passion she’d never imagined possible. He tunneled a hand through her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp while he deepened the connection.

A deafening peal of thunder cracked and roared as if the house were coming apart around them. Jaime pushed against the hard planes of Xavier’s chest, wanting to get away both from him and the window. Situations like this, men like him, didn’t happen to her. The whole thing made her head spin faster than a pitcher of margaritas.

“I think that’s enough excitement for one day.” She forced a smile to hide her nerves. She’d just shared an amazing kiss with a man she’d known for half a day. A man she’d be spending the night with. A man who might kiss her and then tell her future brother-in-law.

Oh, this could get awkward.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the sharp lines of his face. His grin seemed to mock her best intentions. She wanted more of the excitement he could offer, but she needed to keep things level with him to make it home and through the wedding without any embarrassment.

This heart-pounding reaction was nothing more than the restlessness of the house coupled with the shock of finding her car stolen yesterday and last month’s relationship fizzle. She must be rebounding higher than a rubber ball. Thank God for the thunder, or she might have done something, if not regrettable, at least not mentionable in polite company.

“Let’s go see about dinner. I’m starving.”

He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe how fast she changed gears, but didn’t try to argue. Instead, he moved his bag to the large bed on the far side of the main room.

They’d certainly stayed authentic with the decor. Four wooden chairs standing around a simple table were the only other furniture. Not exactly made for comfort. Not that it mattered. They’d be out of here first thing in the morning so they’d have time for his detours. They needed to make it all the way to Chicago to get back on schedule.

Jaime stared into the darkness and pulled the quilt tighter around her body, trying to keep from shivering. Her hands kept shaking. It had to be cold enough to frost in the small room. No small feat, considering it was the middle of summer and had to be eighty outside. Stone structures like the hotel were known for holding heat, not trying to turn people into icicles.

She clenched her jaw, attempting to tough it out. She wished she’d packed pajama pants so there was more than a tank top and panties to keep her warm.

Cold air whispered across her cheek. If she weren’t so uncomfortable, she might think this was a bad dream caused by all the ghost stories the wait staff and locals had shared with them at dinner, or the spinning wheel in the corner of the dining room that had started spinning of its own volition. Or maybe they’d forgotten to mention at the front desk that her room doubled as a meat locker.

Her body shuddered as she stared into the opaque blackness. The cutting chill crept deep into her bones, her lungs prickling with each icy breath. Xavier was probably in the same misery, toughing it out so she could get some rest. No point in them both suffering in this freezer.

Wrapping the quilt around herself, she sat and set her feet on the floor. She recoiled involuntarily. The ground would be warmer beneath a snowdrift.

She’d have to run for it. Jaime hurtled herself through the doorway separating the rooms. A shaft of moonlight lit the room and a wave of heat nearly knocked her over as she neared Xavier’s bed. His room was as hot as hers was cold. So warm nothing covered him as he slept on his stomach. Nothing at all.

Decorum went by the wayside as she tried to avoid frostbite. It might not be right to climb in bed with a naked man you barely knew, but it wasn’t right that he got to sleep at the equator while she was relegated above the Arctic Circle.

Her joints stiffened as she slid beneath the quilt he’d thrown off, her skin tingling at the shock. She pulled the covers tighter, breathing in the warm air laced with the intoxicating scent of sleeping male. If she weren’t trying not to freeze to death, it would be tempting.

“Am I dreaming?” Xavier asked in French, his voice thick with sleep.

“I’m freezing,” she managed through chattering teeth. This wasn’t her idea of a dream featuring Xavier Moreau. Embarrassing nightmare, maybe.