Kiss Me Crazy (8 page)

Once she finished the last morsel of tiny spicy chicken, she pushed the plate aside and took a long swalow from her glass.

He’d picked the perfect wine for the Chinese flavors.

“That was wonderful. Thank you.” Kara patted her lips and threw the paper towel in the garbage.

Baron replenished their glasses. “You’re welcome. How was Club Sixty-Nine?”

“Good. A little crowded, but worth it.” She swept the empty containers into the garbage, put the utensils in the sink, and reached for the rol of towels. “How did you know that’s where we went?”

“Renee told me.”

Kara stopped in the act of cleaning the counter. “When?”

“Last night. I asked her where you guys were headed.” Was that what they were talking about in the doorway last night? “Why?”

“I’d planned to stop by.” He lifted the laptop from the floor and asked, “Can I put this up here? I thought you might want to see the colection.”

Kara threw the wad of paper towels away, settled back on a stool, her elbows on the counter and her chin on the heel of her hands, and eyed him as he rebooted his notebook. The events of last night—the senseless flirting and the men vying for their attention

—flashed through her head. She had compared the men to Baron and found them lacking. Even the blond hadn’t tempted her enough.

Her gaze met Baron’s, and her cheeks warmed.

“Did you stop by?” she asked.

“No, I didn’t want to intrude.” His lips lifted in a slow, wicked smile that had her pressing her knees together. “Did you want me to?”

“I, uh, no.” She dismissed him with a brief wave of her hand and nodded at the laptop. “What do you have there?” He laughed, the rotten scoundrel. The sound, rich and a little rusty, tickled every cel in her needy body. When she glared at him, he rotated the computer so it faced her.

She did her best to ignore his presence. On the screen were pictures of water bottles, friendship and effigy bowls, and arrowheads. Kara moved closer, studied the style and designs. She scroled down to more effigy bowls and masks. The ceramics were Native Americans, the jade pieces Costa Rican pre-Columbian Ax gods. Each god could easily sel for more than a thousand dolars.

“Is this it?” she asked without looking up.

“A smal part of it. Mrs. VanderMarck promised to send a disk with the remaining photographs. She’d meant to have them authenticated before the scandal but didn’t have time. She wants us to do it.”

Kara nodded. “We can do that.” She frowned at a gold piece. “This Shaman piece is Colombian, probably worth twenty grand.” She felt Baron’s presence beside her and looked up. She hadn’t realized he’d moved from the other side of the counter.

“Which one?” he asked, leaning in, entering her personal space.

She pointed at the screen, trying hard not to be distracted by his nearness.

“The one beside the lime bottle,” she said in a voice that wasn’t steady.

“I see. Have you checked the paintings yet? They’re at the bottom.”

He was so close his warm breath brushed her temple. For a moment, Kara closed her eyes, wanting so badly to lean to the left and make contact.
Where’s your sense, Kara?
Her eyes snapped open and she pressed the mouse. More pieces roled past before she stopped at the paintings. They looked promising, almost al by turn-of-the-century artists, but she couldn’t concentrate. The current of energy humming between their bodies was too unnerving.

“Interesting,” she said, but sounded unimpressed. She realy needed some space between them.

Baron shifted until their gazes connected. “She wants us to finish authenticating them then sel them at the galery. Some need to be cleaned and framed.”

“That would be wonderful. Would you like dessert?” Kara mumbled as she slid off the stool. When he appeared surprised by her question, she flushed. She usualy went ga-ga over paintings.

The heat from his body messed with her head and the wine didn’t help either. “Since you provided dinner, I thought I’d supply desert.

Choices are chocolate mint or rocky road ice creams, and of course tiramisu.”

“Tiramisu…my favorite.”

I know.
He used to have some every time they worked late five years ago. She reached for the bowls and spoons, but was aware of his eyes watching her every move. The tension in the room shot up a notch, making her more alert to every tiny sound in their vicinity—the whirring of the computer, the tick-tock of the clock in her living room, the pounding of her heart. She racked her brain for something to say and came up blank.

“Do you think you’l be done with the piece you’re working on by Tuesday?” Baron asked.

“Oh yeah.” She opened the fridge doors, retrieved the mint ice cream and tiramisu. “Al that remains is to apply the new varnish and repair the damaged corner.”

“That’s good. I’l get the tickets for Wednesday.” A prickle of unease made Kara put the dessert boxes on the counter and turn to face Baron. “Tickets for what?”

“Our flight to Hope, Idaho.”

She shook her head. Her heart galoped hard, her mind struggling to grasp what he’d just said. “You mean the colection isn’t here in L.A.?”

“No. Mrs. VanderMarck doesn’t live here anymore, Kara.

With the negative publicity and her stepson hounding her, she retired to a smal vineyard in Santa Barbara. That’s where I went yesterday. The colection is housed in her summer home in Idaho. It should take us a week or so to wrap things up.”
Us? As in, he and I, together?
Her mind started imagining what could happen if they were alone in some secluded cottage, what she’d wanted for years. Images of sweaty bodies and intertwined limbs had her heart pulsing off track. No, she refused to let her wanton half abduct her logical side. Nothing like that could ever happen between them.

“Maybe Rick might be the best person to do this, Baron.

He—”

“Wil be in charge of the galery during my absence,” he interjected. “I plan to offer him a chance to run the San Francisco galery once it opens.”

Rick would be thriled at the opportunity, but right now Kara couldn’t afford to be distracted by such news. She had to find a way out of going away alone with Baron. A week with him would be disastrous.

Liar, you’d love to get him alone somewhere, away
from nosy friends and coworkers,
an annoying voice in the back of her head mocked. Kara ignored it and latched on to the promise she’d given Rick about his nephew’s bar mitzvah.

“I already made a commitment to help out a friend with something next Saturday,” she said.

“I’l fly you back.” Baron closed his computer. “Did you mention dessert?”

He thought he was slick.

“Dessert can wait.” Her voice came out snappish, but she didn’t care. “Why can’t you pack the entire colection and ship it back here?”

“Most of them are intended for the San Francisco galery.

Why waste the expense of unpacking and repackaging them or increase the chances of some careless delivery man chipping a piece?” He pushed his computer into the bag and stared at her.

“What’s realy bothering you, Kara?”

“I just can’t pack up and leave. I’m stil trying to negotiate a deal for my office space and…and….” Tessie chose that moment to leave the comfort of the couch and walk to her side. “My cat.

Who’d take care of her? She’s so high maintenance.” God, that was lame even for her. The indulgent smile that lifted the corner of Baron’s mouth as he studied her confirmed it.

“You know, they have a fax and e-mail access at the house, so communicating with your realtor or bank shouldn’t be an issue.

As for Tessie, bring her with us or have my sister Jade look after her. She loves animals.”

He had an answer to everything, damn it. Why couldn’t he see this was a terrible idea? “It won’t work.” She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until he said, “What won’t work?”

She glowered at his chest, too rattled to think up any more excuses. “Everything.”

Next thing she knew, Baron stood a breath away from her, lifting up her chin, looking at her hungrily. Her senses went into hyper-drive. The rich aroma of Chinese food mingled with the intoxicating scent of the gorgeous man standing in front to her. She opened her mouth to object to his ruthless invasion of her space, but he silenced her with his next words.

“You’re scared. I understand.” His voice, smoky, late night seduction, caressed her nerves.

“Scared?” Kara tried to step back but was trapped by the L-shaped counter. So she attempted to laugh off his comment. “Of what?”

“This,” he said and covered her mouth with his.

Her first thought was to protest. She’d expected an invasion of her senses, tongue and teeth at ful throttle. Instead she got little licks and nips, his tongue running over her lower, fuler lip, teasing, tasting. The gentle kisses had her closing her eyes and sighing with pleasure, evaporating any thought of protest. He was deliciously intoxicating, his lips soft yet hot, his taste a mixture of red wine and forbidden pleasure.

“You taste so good,” he murmured.

If he’d set out to reduce her to a whimpering idiot, he’d succeeded. Kara couldn’t string a thought, let alone a sentence. A wildness brought by years of unrequited passion surged through her.

She lifted her hand to his cheek, held his head stil, and asked for more.

Baron responded, sliding a hand under her hair to cup her neck and deepening the kiss. Her hands fluttered to his chest, bunched his shirt, and puled him closer. She was so starved for him it shocked her. She wrenched her mouth away, but he blazed a path along her jawline, down her neck, drowning her in sensations al the way to her shoulder. Kara shuddered, her head thundering so hard she was sure he could hear it.

“Wait,” she said, gripping his head and wiggling some inches between his mouth and her skin. “Please.”

“Why?” He turned those dreamy blue eyes on her hapless self. The air between them, steaming and dense, vibrated with unfulfiled desire.

Kara looked away. What was she thinking? Kissing him like she couldn’t have enough of him? Touching him like she had a right to? Even now, her body craved his, her head filing with images of the two of them naked, and having a mind-numbing…
no, I will
not go there.
She yanked her thoughts to the present, to a situation she should have nipped before it got this far.

“We shouldn’t be doing this. I work for you. There’s a policy against—”

“To hel with the policy,” he ground out. He must have felt her flinch because he stepped back and rubbed his nape. “There’s something between us, Kara. I felt it from the very first day we met.

Five years later, it’s stil there, only stronger.” His voice was soft and calm, soothing as though he expected her to bolt. “You can’t deny it.”

Yes, she could. Baron was wrong for her on so many levels. He was commitment phobic, her boss, had a new girlfriend according to Gena, and…was the best darn kisser she’d ever locked lips with. Kara shook her head.
I must be jinxed to lust
after this man
. The one thing she couldn’t deny was how much she wanted him, not after the way she’d kissed him.

She shook her head. “No, I can’t, but we can’t always have what we want.”

“Why not, when it’s within your reach?” He ran a finger along the neckline of her T-shirt, leaving a heated trail in its wake.

She brushed his hand and ducked past him, putting as much space between them as possible. Once the counter was between them, she turned and faced him. “I realy think—”

“That’s your problem, Kara. You think too much.” She bristled at his tone. “At least it stops me from making mistakes.”

“Point taken.” He propped his elbows on the counter and leaned closer, sexual energy pulsing from him. “How about this?

Give me the time in Idaho to show you…to prove to you that what we have is not a mistake.”

She must have misunderstood him. “Are you asking me to have an affair with you?”

“Yes.”

One word, so direct and an unapologetic, yet it sent a thril through her senses. The man would have her in knots in no time.

And what would that make her? Another notch on his belt. The conversation she’d heard between Gena and her caler flitted in Kara’s head. His new woman was probably pining for him somewhere while he attempted to seduce her into doing his bidding.

“What about your girlfriend?” she asked.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Kara. I haven’t had one for awhile.”

Could he be teling the truth? The sincerity in his eyes and voice confirmed it, yet she couldn’t discount what Gena had said.

Oh, what did it matter? She wasn’t agreeing to an affair.

“What about you? Are you involved with anyone?” he asked.

“No, I’m not.” She answered without thinking and watched a grin spread across his handsome face. “Not that I’m agreeing to your proposal. Okay? I don’t go for casual sex.”

“Who said anything about casual? You’ve seen how it is when we kiss. Sex between us wil never, ever be casual, Kara. I promise you that.”