How to Win a Guy in 10 Dates (13 page)

‘Sure.’ She gave a sniff, disentangled a hand to rub her nose. ‘That was great by the way, and the good news is I still don’t want to get involved. ’

‘Pleased to hear it.’ He gave a wry grin. ‘And the bad news is I still haven’t seen your tattoos properly, but maybe we can remedy that? Shall we go to bed?’

Hell of a trite line there, but who cared if it got him where he needed to be.

And bed was a million miles away from his earlier intentions, but he was far from finished here. If anything, he’d barely begun. Disentangling himself, he gave her hand a light tug in the direction of the door.

‘It has been a long day.’ She let out a sleepy sigh, stretched, but resisted his pull.

‘You can say that again.’ Hell, it only been this morning that he was scouring the village for her. Although sleep was the last thing on his mind now, dammit.

‘You sure you can trust me not to fall for you overnight then Mr Irresistible?’ Her pout twitched, as if she were biting back a smile. ‘We don’t want any broken hearts do we?’

Hell, she was mocking him here, big style, and he was taking it. Lapping it up. Right now he’d pretty much take anything she dished out if it meant getting her between the sheets.

‘I guess.’ One cover-all answer he hoped covered all aspects. Delivered with a dose of hundred watt smile, which slipped out all by itself, nothing to do with him.

That smile never failed to work its magic.

He stood his ground, waited, and raised an eyebrow. Fast would be good. Hoping that she wouldn’t fix on the ever-growing bulge beneath his fly. And then her resistance melted, and she was following him.

‘I’M guessing you don’t spend that much time in the quarry then?’

Stretched out horizontally across the bed, where the after-breakfast sex had left them, Millie shifted her head on Ed’s stomach, luxuriating as he idly traced his finger diagonally down her back, following the tendrils of her tattoo.

Comfortable. Relaxed. Satiated. Well, almost satiated.

His deep sigh spread all the way down to her neck. ‘Bit of a random comment for a Sunday morning Miss Brown. But you’re right, these days I’m usually office-bound. It wasn’t always like that. I started at the rock face, but as I worked my way up I spent less and less time there.’ His voice trailed off with a regretful shrug, as he shuffled, adjusting his shoulders on the pillow he’d dragged over. ‘It’s a world-wide organisation, but mostly I’m at a screen, getting my kicks from the big deals and the big bucks, not the bangs.’

‘Usually in a suit then?’ She watched his amused nod, swallowed at the thought that he walked round looking that swoon-able on a daily basis. ‘So how come you were in the quarry the day you rescued me?’

‘Total one off, I’d bumped into Blake at my parents’ party a couple of weeks earlier.’ A flicker of unease ironed the folds from his cheeks. ‘Blake was opening up a new section of quarry, and I came back to see the first blast for old times’ sake. Blake and I go back a long way, he pulled me through my worst times.’ The grin he shot her swept away the serious undertones.

‘I see.’ Slow conversation, to hide from scarier thoughts. Like how much sex for fun could a person have, and why did she still want more? And why, despite the no strings thing, she yearned to know more about his darker side. ‘Were you bad when you were younger?’

‘I was an angry teenager, I’d crashed out of school. The rest of my family were blonde and diligent, perfect achievers, and here I was, a dark, volatile hell raiser. I guess I got my temper from my Dad.’ He shot her a rueful grimace. ‘Blake encouraged me to turn that negative energy, into something positive. I came into the company from the rough end, but the technology was fascinating, I developed that side, and now we’re world leaders in the field. Blake believed in me when no-one else could handle me. I owe him big time for that.’

‘Difficult children are the strongest characters, and in the end that’s a good thing, even if it’s rough along the way. You got your Dad’s hot temper, but I bet you got your strength from your mum.’

‘Why has my mother got anything to do with this?’

One indignant reply. One mother in need of defense. ‘I have a feeling she was strong, doing what she did.’ She chose to ignore his scowl. ‘Think about it, you’ll see my point.’

One disgusted growl. ‘Leave my mother out of this.’ Then he went back to scratching her tattoo, making her shiver as his nail followed the sinuous stems round her side, sliding over her hip, idly stroking the skin at the edge of her stomach.

Wow, a girl could get used to this.

He cleared his throat. ‘So, if it’s time for twenty questions, Millie, aka Amelia Brunswick Brown, why exactly are you disowning your family?’

Wham! Out of nowhere, and her stomach contracting, and not in a good way. Opening and closing her mouth like a guppy as she trawled her brain for an answer.

‘I told you already, I want to be independent.’ From his steely eyes, he knew she was flailing.

‘That’s a reason, not an explanation.’

Pay-back time, for pushing him.

‘Maybe I couldn’t take the way my parents wanted to dominate me, control my life. Take my tattoos – my mother hates them.’

All true, but a long way from the truth. How her parents tried to wrestle the most important decision of her life away from her. How she hated them for that, but how she hated herself more for letting it happen.

‘I don’t believe it’s about one tattoo.’

So he wasn’t buying it. Damn to that.

‘This is me trying to live for myself, take responsibility for my own decisions. If I have to be financially independent to be allowed to think and do what I want, I will. I see my family from time to time, I just don’t want them to support me.’ She flashed a smile in his direction, hoping talking around the subject was going to shut him up. ‘And living without the insulation of big money is a challenge. There are times when I miss the luxuries, but I’d rather be without them and be free. Giving stuff up isn’t so difficult. It makes life more real.’

And that was only half true. Some days she enjoyed it, others it was damned hard, like when she ached for her London life, but she saw that as penance.

‘I’ll take your word for that. I’m not giving up my Aston or my penthouses any time soon.’ He let out a hollow laugh.

‘At least it gets you off the hook completely.’

‘And what hook would that be?’

‘You worrying I was falling for you?’ She had to drive her point home here, even if it was close to the knuckle. ‘I’d never choose a man with money, because I’d never want to feel I was being bought or dominated. Ed from the quarry, I might have fallen for, Ed from the board room would be out of the question.’

Peering up at Ed, and just for a moment his brow furrowed. But then it was gone.

‘So, what do you say to showers then lunch?’ He was sitting bolt upright, already easing himself out from under her. ‘Can’t say we haven’t earned it.’

‘Great idea.’ She pushed herself up onto her elbow, expecting her smile to meet his mischievous grin half way, but he’d already turned. ‘Thanks. I’ll get ready.’

So that was abrupt. Here’s hoping he hadn’t caught the crestfallen note in her voice. No danger of that, given the way he was crashing around.

‘You can take the shower in the master suite.’ He was already half way into the en-suite bathroom in this room. ‘And see if you can do something about the mess whilst you’re there. It’s ridiculous we had to come into this suite because you’d trashed the main one. We can’t swap bedrooms every time you don’t feel like clearing up.’

A sudden attack from the tidy police? How they’d ended up in a different bedroom last night was a blur. She hadn’t thought it had anything to do with tidy rooms.

But he wasn’t there to ask.

Millie stared at the closed bathroom door, and reeled.

What the heck happened there? Pulling a sheet tight around her, she began to scour the floor for her dress and shoes.

***

Having a shower gave Millie time to reflect, and when she did think carefully about last night, she decided she could have ended up on the moon, and not been complaining. When someone did things like that to you – her body was thrumming now as she recalled O after shattering O – you really didn’t give a damn where you were. And looking at the state of the master bedroom when she emerged from the bathroom, although his sudden snappiness had caught her off guard, Ed did have a point. Even by her standards, the room was chaotic.

Securing a towel around herself, she picked up a vest, folded it, and placed it on an easy chair, grabbed a stray flip flop, and rummaged under the strewn clothes to find the matching one.

‘Need some help with that?’

Mr Snappy. Or should that be Mr Neat? Leaning on the door frame, all lazy and relaxed. Men with gravelly voices like that should not be allowed out. As for his low slung sweat pants, parading round in those with that body was just plain mean.

‘Why? Are you offering?’ Half way to slipping him a sultry smile, she caught her foot in an abandoned towel, and tripped. All down to those melting knees, and darn it that her legs weren’t working at all.

His chest was hard as she barreled into it.

‘Easy.’ His eyes snagged onto a nipple that had escaped over the towel top, and stayed there as he righted her.

‘Whoops. Sorry.’ She dragged in a breath, re-adjusted her towel, and forgetting the smoulder she’d been planning, shot him one straight smile. Determined to ignore whatever was going on in the groin area of his leisure wear. ‘Tidying time?

Did he have any idea how many good-boyfriend points he picked up there for offering to help? Wrong! Not boyfriend. Definitely not boyfriend. She kicked herself hard for that slip up.

‘I think tidying might be a good idea. Sorry about before, if I sounded short.’ He let out a sigh, as he picked up the nearest dress and began struggling to arrange the tangle of shreds. ‘Part of being grown up and independent is being tidy you know. Although right now this garment, whatever it is, seems to be resisting all attempts to impose order.’

What? Had she just hear that right? First an apology, and then that. The bit about being grown up.

She screwed her head round to check if he was messing about. ‘You are joking?’

‘Nope, never more serious. You’d be less obsessed about the independence thing if you felt more in control, and being more organised might help.’ The grin he posted her was apologetic not playful. ‘I’ve never known anyone this untidy before.’

So what now? She would have balled him out, except maybe he did have a teensy point.

‘You sound like my parents.’ She stuck her hands on her hips, to make certain he got the message she wasn’t happy.

‘Hey, that’s harsh.’

Hurt and helpful? Way too attractive. He was going to have to stop that. And she was going to have to concede he was a little bit right.

‘I’ll try harder in future. Hey, what are these doing here?’ She scooped up one pair of exceedingly tattered jeans that had nothing to do with her, waggling them in the air triumphantly. ‘These are yours mate. Kicked under the bed, no less, so it’s not all my mess. I’m thinking pots, kettles, and black here.’

‘Guilty as charged.’ He gave a shame faced shrug.

‘My favourites too.’ She gave a laugh. ‘Your Ed-from-the-quarry jeans. You couldn’t … ’ No, she couldn’t ask him. She wouldn’t ask him. She wasn’t going to beg. Even if the thought of seeing him in them with no pants was … 

‘What..?’

If she didn’t ask now she might not ever see him in them again. One awful thought, driving her to be entirely brazen.

‘Would you put them on?’

The glance he shot her was pure, delighted lust.

‘Not sure I’ll get the zip up.’ He snatched the jeans as she flung them. ‘I’ll try, seeing how you asked so nicely.’

‘I’d appreciate that, Mr Mitchum.’ She had no idea how he’d read her ear to ear beam, as she watched him peel on the soft, oh-so-tight denims. Rips in all the right places, and then some.

‘I take it you won’t mind if lunch is an hour or two late.’ He growled as he struggled to accommodate the full length of his arousal into the jeans.

‘An hour or two?’ She couldn’t resist the tease. ‘I’m not sure it’s going to take that long.’

One smart smack stung her butt, and then his hot delicious mouth hit hers and she had no further sense of time at all.

***

‘I think I’m getting the idea of this no-strings fun thing.’

Millie sauntered across the village square beside him, flip flops flipping, bumping him gently as her hips swayed, stripping the last of an ice lolly off a stick with a tongue-technique so enticing, he decided he’d rather look away.

‘Yep, I thought you might. Just a shame we lost most of yesterday. A weekend should be plenty to burn out the heat, but we’ll be struggling if you’re off home tomorrow. Always best to do it in one hit, and move on.’ He pushed the end of his own Cornetto into his mouth, and crunched it.

And always, best to tell it like it is.

Which was why he was ignoring Millie’s appalled expression and bashing on with the home truths. Except it wasn’t exactly the truth. Because he seldom made a whole weekend of it, and he’d never spent the length of time he’d spent with Millie, with anyone. And he’d never had this much sex with one person. Another reason why it was so strange that this far through the weekend, instead of feeling the burn was subsiding, he had the uncomfortable impression it was getting hotter.

‘Shall we walk up through the village to the church at the top?’ Although she’d moved a pace away from him, her dismayed expression had morphed to bright and airy.

‘Good idea, the vista’s meant to be amazing, and seeing as this village is off the main tourist trail, at least its quiet. Will you be okay on the cobbles in those sandals?’

Cobbles spinning him back to the polished, well groomed awesome Millie, who’d powered her way through his mother’s reception yesterday evening, and gone on to power him right over the edge. He felt himself stiffening now at the thought of her slinking around the kitchen. But that untouchable, sultry Millie had dematerialised as soon as her high heels and dress had hit the deck, and she’d been eager and insatiable as he was. Not forgetting those amazing stockings. Strange though, the Millie he preferred was the Millie he had here, all raw, and vulnerable. Crumpled, yet real.

‘Heels and cobbles don’t mix, but flip flops are good.’ The smile she flipped him, made his heart … 

Squeezing. Flopping. Thumping. Whatever. Hearts were off limits. Totally.

Unless like last night, they were racing because of the lust, and the sex.

Then it was okay.

Hard to think this time yesterday he’d been enduring the whole damned challenge without any of the benefits. Millie’s u-turn on the sex-front had come as one big bonus. And the other plus was that the end of the challenge was in sight. Only the family meet left, and no idea at all how he was going to engineer that as yet. Then he’d be paying Will and Cassie a visit, to rub their noses in his victory.

Winding their way up in the shade of the narrow alleys, picking their way past geranium pots, his hand fell easily onto the small of her back. ‘It’s quite a climb, are you okay?’

‘I dance, remember? I have stamina. I bet I could beat you to the top.’ A toss of her head, one challenging grin, and she was off.

There was no way that he could catch her now.

She reached the top first, barely panting. Blowing her damp fringe upwards, she flopped down onto a bench in dappled shade, and he dropped beside her.

‘Worth getting out of breath for that view.’ He was talking about the patterns of pan-tiled roofs and the rolling plains beyond, but focusing on her tanned thighs, spreading on the warm stone seat.