Foxfire (8 page)

He brushed a knuckle under her chin.

“You're beautiful.”

She fought against the growing attraction.
She couldn't handle an affair with this guy. He'd eat her
alive.

She tried to jump down, but his hands spanned
her waist pulsing heat waves through her body. The jump turned into
a slow body slide. Her hands gripped his shoulders a little
tighter. Her breath caught in her throat, releasing when her toes
finally touched the deck. Her head spun, sending her closer against
his chest. His arms closed around her. Her heart and mind battled
and her heart won.

She parted her lips and suddenly they were
pressed against his. He took the kiss deeper, his hands sliding
upward, thumbs brushing the sides of neck. It wasn't enough. She
wanted more. Needed more. Ached for his intimate touch.

She ran her hands through his collar-length
hair, loving the feel of the silky thick strands. His tongue teased
her, begging and offering more.

****

Tyler wanted to scoop her up and carry her to
his bed. His thumbs circled the soft flesh of behind her ears,
emboldened by her passionate response. He flicked his tongue
against her lips and she opened, accepting his advance. A little
voice whispered that he shouldn't be doing this, but he ignored it,
giving in to the hunger of the moment.

Someone moaned. He thought it was her, but it
might have been him. He pulled her closer, caught up in a
heart-pounding desire that burned higher with every passing
second.

Her passion overwhelmed him, sucking him into
a swirling vortex. She said she didn't want another relationship.
Neither did he. Yet, here he was, all wrapped up in Grace Wilkins.
Surprise, surprise.

He stepped backward taking her with him until
a sharp painful yip stopped him. “What?” He sidestepped, trying to
maintain their balance.

Grace shoved against his chest, her eyes
round and dilated, frightened like a deer caught in the headlights.
He read the feeling of panic in her gaze. He didn't believe what
had happened any more than she did. He should be thankful for small
favors, because if it hadn't been for the dog, he'd have ripped off
Grace's clothes and sated his long suppressed sexual desires. The
electricity pulsing between them nearly sparked in the dark.

Grace knelt beside Tiffany, stroking her fur.
“Poor baby. Are you all right,” she murmured.

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back.
What poor timing.

Things had escalated so fast. One moment he'd
been talking about the legendary foxfire, the next he'd been on
fire for Grace. And the flames still seared him. Over the blood
pounding through his head, he tried to grab hold of reason. The
woman was dangerous. He'd come here to do a job  one that
didn't include seducing Grace Wilkins.

He knelt to check the dog for injuries. The
bulge against his zipper grew tighter and more painful. Obviously
unscathed, Tiffany leaped up, knocking him on his butt. Her tail
wagged in wild abandon.

Grace gave a short laugh, then clapped her
hand over her mouth.

He looked at her. She licked her swollen
lips, which did nothing to ease his tortured libido. The torches
played softly across the sprinkle of freckles on her nose. Whatever
hold she had on him wasn't letting go. He could see in her eyes
that she'd regained control. He had to do the same. He'd come to
Foxfire to forget, not to get involved. “I'm sorry,” he said.

“It was an accident. Tiffany's not hurt.” She
pushed to her feet.

“I wasn't talking about the damn dog!”

She placed her hands on those curvy hips.
“She has a name. Tiffany.” Her chin jerked higher, pointing at him
in an accusatory manner. “And she's not a
damn
dog.”

He felt like an idiot sitting on the deck
arguing with the woman he'd nearly undressed.

Tiffany licked his face, further deflating
his libido. “Yeah,” he said. He pushed Tiffany's head away from his
face. “She's a great dog.”

He met Grace's gaze. “I'm sorry about...you
know, trying to ravage you.”

“Ravage? Do you read romance novels or what?”
She glared down at him. “We kissed. That's all. People kiss all the
time. Forget about it. I already have.”

Forget? Was she kidding? He'd remember every
pleasurable second of that kiss. He still wanted to make love to
her. How in the world would he be able to look at her day in and
day out and keep his hands off?

The torches flickered, casting a shadow
across her face. What secrets did she hide behind those beautiful
blue eyes? He sensed she'd been hurt, and that connected with a
nerve deep inside. His own hurt ran deep and it still cut at him,
slicing his gut like a piece of broken glass. Guilt rode his dreams
at night. Sometimes he thought he'd never be able to forget, to
forgive.

He knew most of her secrets, or at least the
worst of them. And he meant to protect her while he used her to get
what he wanted. Getting emotionally involved was not an option.

His plans had been to bury himself in the
mountains and his work, but he hadn't planned on finding Grace
Wilkins so tempting. Nor had he planned on her having the power to
open his wounds again.

“You expect me to forget that kiss?” he
asked, giving her a wink.

She glared at him. “I do. And if anyone
should apologize it's me. I took advantage of you.”

He forced a grin. “Grace, you didn't take
advantage of me. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I thought you
were the sexiest woman I'd ever seen. Having you here, all alone,
well I couldn't resist.” He stood and shoved his hands in his
pockets. “But I promise to keep my hands to myself from now
on.”

Was that regret he saw in her eyes or only
his wishful thinking? Tyler glanced at his watch. “It's getting
late. Tomorrow's a working day for both of us.”

Grace dusted her bottom. “You're right. I
should be going.”

“I'll walk you home.”

“No need. Tiffany and I'll be fine.”

“Humor me.” He followed her down the steps.
“My mother taught me to be a gentleman. I open doors for women,
lift heavy packages, and always walk my dates to their door.”

“It wasn't a date, Tyler.”

He let her keep the illusion. When they
reached her cabin, he waited until she opened the door and flipped
on a light.

She turned to face him. “Thanks for
dinner.”

“You're welcome.”

She started to close the door, but he called
out. “Grace?”

“Yes?”

“Be sure to lock your door.”

Chapter Six

Torture. No other word could describe the
agony of being near Tyler while maintaining what Grace hoped was a
professional demeanor. Would this day never end? Each time she met
his eyes, her lungs squeezed out every bit of air, leaving her
feeling as if she'd just run a long-distance marathon.

Yet, Tyler didn't seem the least bit
affected. He'd given her a lab coat, much too large, and laughed
after she slipped it on and it hung to her knees. He smiled each
time he handed her a patient's chart, and if his heart beat faster
when their hands accidentally touched, his expression didn't show
it. She supposed she should be grateful.

All morning, she created new patient files,
diligently entered information into the computer, collected
payments, and chatted with pet owners. She handled dogs and cats of
all sizes, including Muffin, who was determined to sit on the mouse
pad and stare at the cursor flicking across the monitor.

By the end of the day, Grace could hardly
wait to get home. Tiffany ran off toward Brad's, but Grace had no
such intentions. All she wanted was to eat a salad, read the paper,
pay her bills, and go to bed. Tomorrow being Saturday, she'd only
have to endure the torture for a few hours. Somehow she needed to
forget about that kiss. Tyler obviously had.

He'd been all business, never once even
hinting that he found her attractive, or sexy, or irresistible.
That's what really upset her. Not that she wanted him to, of
course, but he had said he'd never forget.

She fixed a salad and opened the newspaper.
One look at the headline had her coughing and spitting sweetened
tea across the print. There on the front page was a picture of her
and Connor. She recognized it as one taken at a fundraiser they'd
attended several weeks ago. Connor smiled into the camera, his arm
draped possessively across her shoulders. The headline read “What's
the Verdict, Counselor?” She scanned the article, which questioned
why the two of them hadn't been seen in public together lately.
They reported that she no longer worked for the D.A.'s office, and
Connor had been spotted having dinner with another woman.

She smiled. Connor must be seething. Sooner
or later he'd have to fabricate a story of why they'd split. The
humor of his dilemma filled Grace with malicious glee. Let him say
derogatory things about her. She could care less. Years ago she'd
been branded by the press. They couldn't hurt her now. It would
serve Connor right if they learned the truth about her past.

She finished her salad and skimmed the rest
of the paper before Tiffany scrambled her way through the pet
door.

“Are you hungry?” Grace set the paper aside.
A tapping on the door startled her until she heard Brad's
voice.

“How was your first day at the clinic?” he
asked, entering the room.

“Fine.” Grace filled Tiffany's bowl, then
reached for a glass from the cabinet. “Tea?”

Brad pulled out a chair and seated himself.
“No coffee?”

“I can brew a pot.”

He waved a hand. “Don't bother. Tea's fine.
Where'd you get the rose?”

“Adam.”

Brad scrunched his brows together.
“Adam?”

“I think so. I found it on the porch
yesterday. I think he has a crush on me.”

Brad grunted.

“I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I've
got to let him know I'm not interested in him in that way.”

“Want me to talk to him?”

“No, I can handle it. So what's new with
you?”

“Same old, same old. Harri stopped by
today.”

“Uh-oh. Is that why you're here?”

“She's worried about you. You know how she
gets when she thinks she's had a sign.”

“You don't put much stock in her psychic
powers.”

“Nope. Doesn't matter though. She believes
enough for both of us.”

Grace twirled the glass, studying the light
shining through the ice cubes.

“So here I am. Want to tell me what's
bothering you? And don't say, nothing. I know you well enough to
read that look on your face.”

What could she tell him? That she didn't want
to have a relationship with Tyler and he felt the same, yet she was
upset about it? It even puzzled her why she felt hurt over his lack
of attention today.

Grace met his concerned gaze. “I can't hide
anything from you two. You probably know what I'm buying you for
your birthday.”

Brad's face lit with mirth. “I don't think
Harri will give away that secret. But, don't change the subject.
What's bothering you, hon?”

Who better to confide in than her best
friend? She exhaled a long exasperated breath. “It's Tyler, and
it's all your fault.”

“Mine?”

“You told him I was looking for a job.”

“So? Now you have one. What's wrong with
that?”

“So, maybe I think he's...attractive.”

Brad's grin grew larger. “Why's that a
problem, darlin?”

Grace groaned. “Brad, come on. He's my boss.
Look what happened with Connor.”

Brad squeezed her hand. “Tyler's not Connor.
He's a fine young man with a sense of honor. You can't compare the
two.”

“Maybe not, but he's my boss. I don't need
the complications.”

“Is that what's bothering you or is it that
headline in the paper?”

“You saw that, too?” She grimaced. “No.
That's not bothering me. I find it amusing, though I can't figure
out why Connor wants to keep our break-up a secret. It's not like
he's planning on telling them why. He could blame it on me and get
their sympathy. I don't know why he's so worried.”

“Maybe he knows they'll take your side. After
all, the press loves you. I don't think they really give a damn
about Connor. He doesn't stand a chance of winning the
election.”

She frowned. “Why not? He's the perfect
politician. He lies smoothly with a cool smile.”

Brad made a scoffing noise. “That's probably
true, but everyone can see right through his fancy words to the
self-serving shell he really is.”

“You don't have a very high opinion of
him.”

“Nope. And not just because he hurt you.”

“He didn't really hurt me, Brad. Only my
pride. I'm as much at fault as Connor.” She grinned remembering
what happened yesterday. “I did get even though.”

“Yeah?”

She stood and leaned against the counter.

“Connor showed up here yesterday offering to
have a discreet affair with me.”

“What?” Brad jumped from his chair. Red
suffused his face.

“Don't get your blood pressure up. Tiffany
chased him off.”

“Tiffany,” he sputtered. “That mutt wouldn't
hurt a flea.”

“You should have seen him trying to fold
himself into that little sports car while I threatened to let my
'trained-to-kill' guard dog loose.”

“Trained-to-kill?” He slapped his leg, and
belly laughed. Tiffany squirmed over to lean against him. He patted
her head. “Good girl.” He looked up at Grace with a huge smile.
“Honey, I'd have paid to see that.”

Grace chuckled. “It was funny. She took off
after him like she meant to chomp off his leg, but what she did was
much better.”

Brad looked at her questioningly.

“She scratched his precious car.” Grace
dissolved in laughter.

Brad guffawed.

When he caught his breath he said, “Serves
him right. If I'd been here, I might have put a bullet hole through
the fender.”