Enemy Lovers (6 page)

After wriggling to find a comfortable position, she started on her breakfast. It was delicious, and she was surprisingly hungry. But one of the nicest things was the fact she could eat and express enjoyment without having parental disapproval hovering like one of last night's storm clouds. “I've never enjoyed dry toast for breakfast.”

“Then why do you eat it?”

“My mother approves of toast, and I prefer peace in the mornings.”

“Ah, well. Eat and enjoy.”

“Have you always wanted to manage pubs?”

“I sort of fell into it. My parents owned the original pub, and my older brother wanted to travel instead of manage a pub. I was the next choice. Now that Quinn is back at home, the three of us have a hand in the business.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“I do, most of the time. I enjoy the interaction with the public.”

“Most of the time? What parts don't you enjoy?”

“The paperwork drives me nuts, and occasionally it would be nice to get away. I manage a few nights at most and usually spend them here at the cabin. You're not alone in wanting to explore more of the world.”

They chatted with none of the morning-after discomfort she'd experienced in the past. They laughed and argued and agreed to disagree about their tastes in music. If only Dallas had been another man. Any relationship between them would be temporary. She knew and accepted the limitations, even though they chafed her sense of fair play.

“Ready to go out and play in the great outdoors?”

“I am. Do you have some spare clothes I can change into afterward? I didn't bring many with me.”

“My younger brother left some of his stuff here. Don't worry. We'll find something for you or baring that, I'll make sure the cabin is warm enough for you to go naked.”

“You want to see my boobs.”

“Guilty,” he said. “You have gorgeous breasts. Nice ass too.”

“What about the dishes?”

“We can do them later.” He stood and held out his hand.

Laura let him lead her to a mud room where he found her a jacket, gloves and a hat. There was even a pair of gumboots, which with the aid of two extra pairs of socks, sort of stayed on her feet.

Outside the sun was doing its best to creep from behind cloud cover. She caught her breath at the first lungful of crisp air. It was so cold her teeth ached.

“Tell me again why this is a good idea,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “It's meant to be spring, but it feels like the middle of winter again.”

Dallas laughed, his breath misting out in puffs of white. “It'll be fun. Don't you enjoy having fun?”

Laura thought about her mother's social schedule and shuddered. “Not when I'm at home. While I'm at the apartment, my life is a bit more relaxed.”

“But you have toted wood before?”

“No. You'll have to give me instructions.
Brr
, it's freezing out here.”

Dallas hooked an arm around her waist and planted a kiss on her lips. His mouth was cold, yet a zip of heat arrowed down her body. “I'm going to enjoy teaching you to get dirty.”

“I get the impression you aren't talking about chopping wood.”

“And you'd be right,” he whispered, dipping his head to steal another kiss. “Let me grab the chainsaw.”

Dallas kept her busy. She carted cut pieces of log to the shed next to the cabin while he cleared the tree off the driveway. After half an hour, her shoulders and arms ached in concert with her butt, and her brain vibrated with the whine of the chainsaw. Splotches of mud, from where she'd stomped through puddles, decorated her bottom half like badges of honor, and she was warm now. Very warm. Gawking at Dallas's backside, seeing the ripple of muscles while he worked the chainsaw heated her through more than her exertions.

The silence when he stopped working was absolute.

“Looks as if we'd better hurry,” he said, his gaze wandering the darkening sky. He grabbed an armload of wood, and she followed suit. Ten minutes later, they were done. “Thanks for helping.”

“You're welcome. It was fun.” She grinned at him, then spoiled everything by tripping. Her arms windmilled and she saved herself from a face-plant by catching herself with her hands. Her splash into a puddle—deeper than it looked—was the final indignity.

“Are you okay?” Concern filled his rugged face, and it was all she could do to stop herself reaching out to test his stubble beneath her fingertips. The exertion had given color to his cheeks while his blue eyes glinted with secrets.

“No, I'm not. I have water seeping through my clothes. You've worked me like a slave, and I'm sweaty.” The quirk tugging at the corners of her mouth spoiled her litany of complaints. She hadn't had so much fun in years.

He grinned and offered her a hand up. “You've done a great job.”

“I notice you didn't refute the slave status.” God, she loved the way his grin lit up his eyes and made the shadows fade away. So pretty. Was it soppy of her to want to stare into his eyes?

Hell yeah. Of course it was.
Temporary, remember?

Once upright, she pressed against him and slid a sneaky, muddy hand beneath the hem of his rugby shirt. He yelped at the cold. Laughing, she danced away and headed for the cabin at a fast trot.

At the thundering sound of footsteps, she sneaked a glance over her shoulder and saw he'd almost caught her. “You're too fast.”

“You're slow.”

“You try running in oversized gumboots.” A laugh huffed out of her when his hands settled around her waist. “Why didn't you have sex with me last night before we went to sleep? Why did you wait until this morning? Damn, I didn't mean to blurt that out. Broken filter.”

“But you want to know the answer?”

“Yes.” She didn't understand why he'd attended to her needs and taken nothing for himself.

“Laura.” He tugged her to a stop and turned her to face him. “Questions don't bother me. I want you to feel happy and confident about our interactions. Occasionally, I'll want to surprise you.”

“You haven't answered my question.”

“I wanted to look after you,” he said simply. “I'd spanked you and your emotions were all over the place. It was my responsibility to care for you.”

“But—”

“I'm not a beast. Delayed gratification won't kill me. Once we're inside and warm again, we'll play some more.” His gaze bored into her, a smile playing around those sexy lips of his. “Don't worry about me, but do wonder about the type of punishment you have in store for placing wet, muddy hands on me.”

“I'm all a shiver.”

Dallas shook his head, seemingly amused by her irreverence. “I'd say they'll try to get the pass open tomorrow, if they can. I'll need to get back to Napier anyway.”

“I'll have to ring the garage about my car. You'll give me a ride back to Napier? I told Mother I'd drive to Clare, but there's no point for just a few hours.”

“Of course. This last load of wood should do us and give me plenty for the next time I visit the cabin.”

Inside again, Laura headed to the shower while Dallas sorted out the fire. She dressed in a thick robe and socks, winding a towel around her damp hair. While Dallas took a shower, she made them some hot chocolate and sat in front of the fire, drying her hair.

Dallas strode into the open plan area, his presence filling the room. Her breath caught when she met his gaze. Lord, what had this man done to her? Put something in her food? She wanted him so much. He came to a halt in front of her, his eyes blazing with need. Sure hands unfastened the belt of the robe he wore.

“I want you to go down on your knees and suck me off.”

“Now?”

He gave a curt nod. “Place a cushion under your knees.”

The stern, confident note in his voice got to her, pushed her to a different place. He'd used the same tone last night. It made her want to jump to attention, made her want to please him, made her think about keeping him in her life.

Slowly, she rose from the couch and picked up a mint green cushion. The decorative embroidery was scratchy in her hands, the other side a silky contrast when she placed it on the ground and sank to her knees.

The scent of hot chocolate and wood smoke teased at her, and when she glanced up at Dallas, the fresh citrus note of his shower gel filled her nostrils. She drew a sharp breath and focused on his cock. It was long and hard, the head ruddy with arousal.

Her hand trembled when she reached for his shaft. The skin was smooth beneath her fingertips. She glanced up, the intensity in him transmitting hot messages of lust through her body. Her nipples prickled insistently against the nubby fabric of her robe. Heat bloomed between her thighs.

She swallowed. “I haven't done this much.”

“Would you like me to give you instructions?”

Relief blasted away the creeping anxiety. She wanted to learn and most of all, she wanted to please him. “Yes, please.”

“Take me more firmly in your hands. I won't break.”

She nodded, fascinated by his body. She'd never been so up close and personal with a penis before, her previous experiences having taken place in dark bedrooms. “You can't call a penis pretty.”

He let out a snort, her quick glance telling her she'd surprised the sound from him.

“Shush,” he said. “No talking unless I ask you a direct question. Run your hands up and down my shaft. Explore it with your hands. Touch my balls and fondle them. Don't squeeze my balls too hard unless I tell you.”

Laura followed his instructions, noted the moves that made him shiver, the ones that pulled forth a hiss of pleasure. His musky scent combined with the citrus of the shower gel, and under her ministrations, his cock grew larger, harder.

“Now use your mouth on me. Explore with your tongue.”

Laura followed the instructions, grateful for his direction. No snapping or impatience, and the orders didn't feel like commands. He tasted musky, slightly salty. Every time her tongue hit the underside of his cock, his breath caught. Pre-come came from his slit, and she licked it away. She tested his balls with her tongue and manipulated them with her hands before returning to his shaft.

“Good. That's good,” he said. “Now I want you to take my dick into your mouth. Lick it. Suck it. Once you've played more, I'll do some shallow thrusts. If it's too much for you, wrap your hands around the base and control how much I can push inside your mouth. Questions?”

“No.” She got busy and felt his desire ratchet upward and the increase of fluid leaking from his tip.

His hands came down to wrap in her damp hair. He tugged to the knife-edge of pain, but the sensual ache helped ground her, made the experience more real. She'd always thought of this as an act to make a man happy, but she was enjoying sucking off Dallas. She wanted to please him and followed each pithy order until he gave a soft curse.

She froze.

“Keep going, sweetheart. You're doing a good job.”

She licked harder, faster, took more of him into her mouth, getting a rhythm going. He swore softly, but she continued without pausing and then he was coming, his hard thighs trembling, his hands still holding her head. At first she froze, then she swallowed automatically.

Dallas relaxed his grip on her hair. His cock dwindled in size, and she licked him clean before backing away.

“Great job,” he whispered, helping her to her feet.

“Your hot chocolate will be cold.”

“It doesn't matter.” He guided her over to the couch and tugged her down on his knee, his arms wrapping around her as he cuddled. Laura leaned against the hard wall of his chest, both proud and satisfied. He'd told her she'd done well. It made her realize how few compliments she received from her family. And no one ever cuddled her. The security she experienced with him made her subterfuge worthwhile.

Dallas might expect her to walk away after they returned to Napier, and that was what she'd originally intended. But this closeness she felt, the edge of tenderness in his actions made her yearn for more. A future.

Sighing inwardly, she wished things were different. Having a relationship with the enemy would come at a cost—the price possibly too steep for either of them to pay.

Chapter Six

The apartment was large, luxurious and lonely. The fancy art on the walls, the rich jewel colors in the lounge, the state-of-art appliances in the kitchen mocked Laura. Money didn't purchase contentment. Happiness came from within. Happiness came from friendship, from mutual trust. Happiness was the emotion she experienced with Dallas.

She should've argued when he'd kissed her cheek and said goodbye.

The phone rang and she absently answered it.

“You're home,” her mother said in an aggrieved voice.

“I am.” Her mother had rung every day since the weekend. Two days of interrogations and nagging.

“You should be here. James is looking lonely.”

He missed his lover. If his boyfriend had any sense, he'd give James grief for even considering marriage to a woman. If Laura was the boyfriend, she'd pop James on his aristocratic nose. “I told you the pass is still closed because of the third slip. The council is still dealing with several big slips in the area. It's impossible for me to get to Clare.”

“I could have sent the helicopter. You will attend the wedding.”

Laura hesitated. Maybe she
should
speak with James instead of avoiding him. And meanwhile, she'd go to Dallas, their agreement in hand. The document worked both ways, and he wasn't getting away from her this easy. No matter that he'd wanted written agreement, spelling out her lack of coercion. She didn't blame his caution. Her family wasn't above using dirty tactics—or paying someone to do their muck playing.

She glanced at the document, which was sitting on the kitchen counter. She made a mental note to hide it in case one of her family popped in without warning. Dallas had tossed it in the trash. She'd rescued the crumpled pages, instinct propelling her to stuff it in her bag.

“Laura, are you listening to me?”

“Yes, I'll be at the wedding, but I won't arrive until Friday night. I have work to do.” She didn't bother telling her mother she'd handed in her notice. The head of the charity had said they were sorry because she'd worked out better than they'd anticipated. They'd written a reference, which also sat on the kitchen counter. Something else to hide from prying eyes.

“I'll ring your boss—”

“No, you won't. Mother, doesn't Aunt Janet require help with the arrangements? How are Suzanna and William? Are you babysitting this week?” In desperation, Laura lobbed questions to distract her parent. Her mother launched into a description of her niece and nephew and their stunning brilliance.
Score
.

“I'm sure it won't be long before you and James have children of your own,” her mother added.

They'd be a long time coming when Laura dreamed of little boys with inky black hair and blue eyes. “I'll see you on Friday,” Laura said, firmly ignoring her mother's comment and her over-active imagination. “Work is busy. I'm going to be in and out of the apartment. There are several work functions and a training course, so don't panic if you get the machine.”

“I'll ring your cell phone.”

“Okay, but I have to turn it off during the meetings. Leave a message on the voice mail.”

“Make sure you return my calls.” Parental directive issued, her mother hung up.

Laura sighed and reached for her winter-white coat and stuffed her feet into warm boots. Hard to believe it was officially spring. She wound a red woolen scarf around her neck, placed the agreement and the reference in her handbag and went outside to wave down a cab.

Dallas's pub was in a rough area. She studied the uninspiring public house from the outside. Square and black, the building stretched upward about three, perhaps four floors. The sole color was a turquoise sign illuminating the entrance above the door.
O'Grady's
.

Due to the weather, the outside seating was abandoned, the tops of the wooden tables bearing a layer of damp from the recent shower.

“Are you sure this is the right address, miss?” the cabbie asked.

“Positive.” She beamed and handed over the fare. “Thank you.”

Bracing herself against the cold, she climbed from the cab and stood for a second. After a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and navigated the puddles to the pub entrance. She'd decided to come unannounced and, at eleven in the morning, hoped to find the place fairly empty.

An elderly woman manned the bar, her deft hands stacking bottles, labels-front, in the chiller.

“Excuse me,” Laura said. “Is Dallas O'Grady here?”

The woman halted her task and straightened to regard her with sharp eyes. “Do you have an appointment?”

“I'm afraid I don't,” Laura said.
Blast!
Why hadn't she thought of that? “Is he busy?”

The woman's expression was shrewd. “You don't look like a debt collector or someone about to serve a legal notice.”

Laura made a choking sound. “Do they come here often?”

“No. What do you want to see him about?”

“I've come about a job.”

“
O'Grady's
doesn't seem like a good match for you.” The woman didn't mess around with social niceties. “What's your name?”

“Laura D… Leigh.” There was no sense asking for trouble. “We've spoken before. Please tell him Laura is here to see him.”

The woman gave her another considering glance, checked out the two male customers who entered the bar and nodded. “Wait over there.” She reached for a phone.

Laura huffed out a breath. Now that she was here and waiting, nerves jumped across her skin like fleas having a trampoline party. They taunted her, called her stupid, tempted her to turn and run.

Instead, she took a seat and clenched her hands in her lap. The urge to flee didn't take her by surprise. She'd thought long and hard about approaching Dallas on his turf. One, it gave him home advantage. Two, she ran the risk of meeting one of his brothers. While they mightn't recognize her, the Drummond name would act like a punch in the nose. An announcement that the foolish enemy had strolled into their territory.

Her gaze took in her surroundings—the wooden floors, scarred from years of wear and spilled drinks, were swept clean, the faint scent of disinfectant on the air. Pictures of pastoral country scenes and crumbling castles decorated the walls, and at the far end of the pub, two dart boards invited use. The clack of pool balls told her the tables were around the corner, out of sight but in use. Unable to remain still a second longer, she jumped to her feet and paced.

“He'll be down in ten minutes. He said to offer you a drink.”

Drink? It was too early for a glass of wine to drown her nerves. “Do you have coffee?”

“Sure,” the barmaid said. “Won't be a tick.”

When the coffee arrived, Laura picked up the cup to keep her hands occupied. Two customers entered, both sending her looks full of curiosity. She drank some of her coffee and pretended she didn't notice their attention.

“Laura.”

Her coffee slopped over the rim of her cup before she managed to set it on the table. “Was it necessary to sneak up behind me?”

“I don't sneak. What are you doing here?” His gaze slipped past her, and he cursed under his breath. “Damn, we can't talk here. You'd better come with me.”

“Of course.” She pretended calmness when inside fears and hope and nerves now gamboled like excited puppies. “Roll out the welcome mat.”

He barked out a laugh. “Still the smart-ass.”

Where he was concerned. Something about him made her brave and unbeatable.

He held the door open and ushered her up a set of stairs. Masculine voices drifted from an office to their left. Dallas bypassed the room and indicated another flight of stairs. Finally, he showed her into an apartment on the top floor.

“I thought we'd decided we wouldn't see each other again.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. His gaze, however, ran over her face, her body and back to her face, hunger flaring then scooting behind his impassive expression.

He still wanted her.
The insight squared her shoulders.

Laura reached into her handbag and pulled out their agreement. “We signed on for a month. I signed in good conscience, and I'm here to fulfill my part of the bargain.”

Dallas stared, powerless to resist the plea in her face, powerless to rip his gaze from her flirty ponytail, just
powerless
against her lure. He'd missed her, their parting after two short nights leaving a sinkhole of loneliness, one he'd had no idea how to fill. He'd tried cramming the empty space with work, by interacting with his brothers. Hell, he'd even made a date for later in the week. One glimpse of Laura and he realized he'd been kidding himself.

He was no more finished with her than she was with him.

“This is a bad idea. People will get hurt. Not just us, but our families. Our being together will stir old history.”

“I know,” she whispered, darkness clouding her pretty whiskey-colored eyes. “Don't you think I've wrestled with this? Why do you think I've waited to come to you?” She gave an audible swallow, and even that damn ponytail seemed subdued. “I've thought about this, about us for two days. I can't stop thinking about you. I need…I want more than a weekend.”

Hell.

His hands clenched at his sides as he battled the urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. Safe. “My brothers are downstairs in the office. They'll be wondering what's keeping me.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped in clear defeat. “I'm sorry I've caused problems for you.”

“I'm not.” He gave in to the demand pulsing inside him like a cattle prod and closed the distance between them in two swift strides. He breathed in her scent—flowers with a hint of the Orient—pressed his face against her blonde hair. “Besides, I'm as much to blame as you. Look, I need to go back to the meeting, otherwise my brothers will ask questions. Can I meet you later? Your apartment?”

She wrinkled her nose, and he got it. Meeting there would prove difficult. “I wanted to know if you still needed an admin person. I figured I'd wear a disguise if necessary.”

“Damn it, Dallas.” The masculine voice snapped from the doorway. “We don't have time for you to conduct your romantic affairs.” Irritation rippled through Quinn's voice. “Patrick needs to meet the supplier at noon.”

Dallas cursed under his breath and kept her pressed against his chest so Quinn wouldn't glimpse her face. “I'll be there in two minutes.”

“Make it one,” Quinn snapped.

“That would have to be an older brother,” Laura whispered, “because that's how my older sisters speak to me.”

“You'd be right,” Dallas said. “Can you wait for me? The meeting will be done by midday.”

“I'll watch TV,” she said. “Maybe make myself another cup of coffee.”

“Thanks.” He dipped his head to steal a quick, unsatisfactory kiss. “Don't go through my bedroom drawers. I want to keep some surprises.”

“You know the temptation might prove too much.”

“Remember the spanking I gave you at the cabin?”

“Yes.”

“I'll give you twice the number of strokes if I learn you've snooped in my bedroom. In fact, stay out of my bedroom.”

“Wow, that many strokes. That's gonna make me think twice.”

“Excellent. See you soon.” Dallas left before he acted on the temptation to kiss her pretty mouth.

Patrick slid him a glare when Dallas strode into the office. “Jeez, Dallas. Can't you keep it in your pants for the length of a business meeting?”

“Sorry. I'm here now.” Dallas dropped onto a chair and tried to focus on the papers in front of him—the spreadsheets and cash flows. “So you guys still think we should take on this Clare pub? I'm having trouble keeping up with the admin work now.”

“Hire someone, Dallas,” Quinn ordered.

“I have someone interested in the job. I'll contact her later this afternoon.”

“Good,” Patrick said. “An extra set of hands will make a difference. I can take charge of the new pub and train the staff while Quinn sorts out the stock. All you'll need to do is take care of the paperwork.”

“Why do we need this pub again?” Dallas asked.

“It's a good business opportunity,” Quinn said, a trifle defensively now that Dallas had focused on the why of the reasons.

“Who pointed you in the direction of this good business opportunity?” Dallas asked.

“I don't think—”

“Male or female?” Patrick asked.

“Why does it matter?”

Dallas narrowed his eyes, scanned his brother's face. No doubting the trace of guilt in his older brother. “It matters if you're trying to pull one over on Heather. She wants to buy the pub.”

“I…what if she does? This is business, and the truth is I discovered this pub before Heather. She saw the real estate papers on my desk,” Quinn said.

Dallas glanced at his watch. Not long until he could hustle his brothers out of here. “I think it's a good opportunity, and we'll get to see the family more, once they get back from holiday. I vote yes.”

Patrick nodded. “I'm in.”

“Done deal then,” Quinn said. “We'll let you get back to your girl. Not your usual type, Dallas. Looked too classy for you.”

“I don't have a type,” Dallas said. “I like women full stop.” Thank god Quinn hadn't seen her face.

“You have a type,” Patrick said. “Curvy, nice ass. A woman who knows the score and won't get upset when you turn them loose through your revolving doors. You've been that way since Maria kicked your ass.”

“She didn't give me the flick. She cheated on me.”

“And you've been trying to replace her ever since,” Quinn said. “This one looks different. She's not dark for a start.”