Temperature's Rising (10 page)

“ ’Bye, Angie,” she absently told the other woman, vaguely registering the closing of the door as Angie left.

Her thoughts were too centered on Conor.

“Have you thought about the sleeping arrangements?” he asked.

“Hmmm?”

His slow grin sent a rush of heat swirling through her.

“There’s only one master bedroom,” he drawled.

“I don’t plan on playing mistress to your master, so don’t get any ideas.”

“We’re newlyweds. Remember? We’re supposed to have ideas.”

Now
what was his game? Did he think he’d frighten her off because they’d be alone? Her eyes narrowed. His strategy wouldn’t work. She wouldn’t let his charm affect her senses.

He sauntered toward her, stopping only inches away.

The woodsy scent of his cologne wafted to her nose, swirling around her as his body heat snuggled closer. She 82

Karen Kelley

took a deep breath. Not a good idea. Visions of what they could do in the master bedroom played around inside her head.

Conor would sweep her into his arms and carry her upstairs. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t a bed. It was the thought that counted, and anyone who could imitate Rhett Butler was okay in her book. That was a man with charisma, and a hell of a lot of sex appeal.

Her gaze met his, crumbling her resolve to remain immune to his magnetism. Why did she have to think about a stupid old movie? She lowered her head, unable to meet his burning gaze, not when this hungry need swept over her, obliterating everything else. But with one finger he gently raised her chin, not allowing her to escape.

Such dark eyes. Dark with passion. Jessica knew without a doubt that he wanted her. Instead of scaring her, the thought sent a thrill of desire through her. She wondered if this was the way Scarlett had felt.

“You’re playing with fire, Jessica.” His hand slid around to the back of her neck and began to gently massage. “Leave while you still can. I don’t play for keeps.

You’re the type of woman who does.” She shook her head, trying to clear it of his softly spoken warning. When she stepped out of his reach, Conor let her go. She turned on her heel and marched toward the door. After a couple of deep breaths, she faced him.

Conor wasn’t Rhett Butler and she certainly wasn’t Scarlett. So what was it about this man that sent her into a tizzy with just a touch or a whisper? In the future, she’d be more careful around him. Somehow.

“Just because I like what I see doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you. I’m attracted to a lot of men. I certainly don’t go to bed with them. Whether you play for keeps or not matters little to me.”

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of her emotions. No man had ever gotten the best of her.

She’d be damned if she’d let it happen now. “I’ll be staying for a few days. Get used to it.” Ignoring her body when it begged her to stay, she hurried from the house and climbed into her car.
Oh yeah,
you’re real cool.
Her hand shook so badly she could barely get the key in the ignition.

As she backed out of the driveway, she glanced one last time at the structure she’d be calling home for no telling how long. She had a lot to do before she set up house with Conor. Gather some clothes. Buy some pajamas. Something with feet and buttons all the way to the neck. That might just keep her out of trouble. And lots of smelly night cream.

But even if she could get Conor to wear all that, could she resist him?

Jessica twisted her button. Lord, she didn’t want to move in with Conor. At least, not in a platonic sense. No, not sexually, either! Did she?

Yom-da-da-da-da.

Deep breaths.

Think calming thoughts.

She glanced across the street. Hadn’t worked. She still felt like she was strung too tight and might pop any second.

It was all his fault. “I don’t see why we have to arrive in the same car,” Jessica muttered, keeping to the far side of the passenger seat.

She’d been sitting a little closer, but with every breath she took, inhaling his musky cologne, naughty thoughts began to intrude into her mind. She didn’t want to have naughty thoughts involving Conor.

“I thought you said your car was in the shop,” Conor commented.

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Karen Kelley

“It is.” They had a taxi service in White Plains she could’ve used, though.

“A taxi would’ve looked a little strange, don’t you think?”

Great, now he could read her mind. She squirmed in her seat. That was scary. Especially when she found her thoughts wandering more and more to the kisses they’d shared and the way his lips had felt against hers—firm, demanding. And the way his strong arms had pulled her close.

A delicious shiver wove its way over her body. She wanted more. Why deny it? But then, she wanted a lot of things in life, but that didn’t mean she’d succumb to temptation.

She really, really needed to stay focused. “Calling a cab didn’t even occur to me.” She’d probably go to hell for lying, too.

“It looks better for newlyweds to arrive together.” He was right, of course. Not that she’d admit any such thing.

“By the way, what’d you tell your boyfriend?” She frowned. “Boyfriend?”

“The guy who picked you up that day in your father’s office.”

“Al?” She’d never really thought of Al as her boyfriend. “He’s a friend. We date occasionally, but nothing serious. I sold him a property not far from town. I didn’t tell him anything. We don’t keep tabs on each other.” Besides, Al had said he was going on a business trip for a few days.

“Good, I’d hate to ruin your love life.” Yeah, she just bet he would.

“Home sweet home.” Conor pulled into the driveway.

The moving truck that had followed with their furni-TEMPERATURE’S RISING

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ture pulled to the curb. Her father had arranged everything right down to crossing all the t’s and dotting the i’s.

He’d seemed particularly happy about the whole situation. After explaining several times they weren’t really newlyweds, and having him brush aside her words, she’d given up. Let him think what he would. Her father didn’t realize she and Conor were on opposite ends of the spec-trum. Maybe old age
was
setting in. She’d have a talk with Gabe after the bad guys were caught. See if he’d noticed anything.

Conor shut off the engine and climbed out, then leaned back inside. “Dear, are you planning on staying in the car all day?”

Now he was trying his hand at humor. And there was a decidedly mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Living next door to the suspects didn’t bother her nearly as much as the fact she’d be calling Conor husband for at least the next few days.

But she wouldn’t let him get the best of her. Smiling sweetly, she gazed adoringly into his face. “It’s much more preferable than spending time with you,
darling
.” Frowning, he darted a look over his shoulder. When he turned back around, she’d already scooted out her side and walked to the back of the car, waiting for him to unlock the trunk. Which he did, but before she could grab her suitcase, he brushed her hand aside. Grunting, he hauled her large bag out of the back. It was three times the size of his.

“What the hell did you pack in here, anyway?” Protection, she thought to herself. A smile curved the corners of her mouth. She glanced up with feigned innocence. “Just a few toiletries.”

“The toilet
and
the bathroom sink,” he grumbled under his breath as he lugged their suitcases toward the house, but she caught what he’d said and her grin widened.

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Karen Kelley

Conor would be a distraction, but she could get around that as long as she kept reminding herself why she was here. For her father’s sake, she had to ignore the strange little tremors that erupted inside her every time he came near. Or that he’d managed to make her body hunger for more than just one kiss.

Her father had been chief too long to lose his job now.

After her mother died, he’d poured everything into his job and two children. She’d been four and Gabe eight. Family and work had become his life. And if he’d never really forgotten her mother’s death, at least he’d made peace. No matter what Conor said or did, she would help her father.

She pulled her thoughts back to the present, glancing at the men unloading the furniture. Undercover officers.

Two of her cousins. She stared as if she hadn’t seen them before. Funny, she’d never noticed how handsome Jimmy and Lucas were. And both single. Lucas glanced her way and winked. A real heartthrob. Who did she know . . .

Jeez! She was as bad as the rest of her matchmaking family. Neither Lucas nor Jimmy needed her help finding a wife.

“We might as well do this right.” Conor emerged from the house, her suitcase having been placed inside.

“Do what right?” She pulled her attention away from her cousins.

“This.”

He scooped her up before she could protest. Her arms automatically went around his neck, putting her in even closer contact with his hard body. She wondered if the sudden dizziness washing over her was from being lifted up or being in his arms.

She was so close she could see flecks of gold in his green eyes—the way they dilated when he met her gaze, so close their noses almost touched, so close she inhaled the minty freshness of his breath. A few inches and she’d TEMPERATURE’S RISING

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be able to taste his lips, feel the heat as his tongue rav-aged her mouth. She drew in a shuddering breath.

“Put me down,” she whispered frantically. It wasn’t natural for her to feel this surge of desire when he touched her. Not when she didn’t even like the man.

“The curtain next door moved. We’re being watched,” Conor said, his breath tickling her ear with each word he spoke. She leaned closer. Then realized what he’d said.

He cradled her in his arms because someone watched, not because he wanted her there.

Her cousins’ snickers effectively grounded her the rest of the way. She knew exactly what the topic of conversation would be at the next family gathering. Didn’t Conor know his actions were only making her life miser-able?

Yes, he probably did. He’d made no secret about not wanting her there. And
she
hadn’t seen any movement at the window. Her eyes narrowed. Was this his game? Scare her off with blatant flirting?

“We’re newlyweds, remember,” he stated as if he sensed her disbelief. “Isn’t this customary?” She studied his look of innocence for a long minute.

Okay, so maybe her imagination had gone into overdrive, and she was reading too much into his actions.

He strolled inside as if she weighed no more than a box of cartridges. She noticed he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go.

“You smell nice, by the way.” His voice turned husky.

“That scent suits you.”

His words sent a shiver of longing over her, and when he released her, he did it in a way that pressed her body intimately against his. She longed for more . . . to caress with her hands, to test each sinewy muscle beneath her fingers.

A noise from outside brought her back to her senses.

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Karen Kelley

She stepped out of his reach, legs trembling. Damn it, he was doing it again.

“If you think you’re going to run me off, think again.” She’d meant her words to be harsh, but they sounded more breathy than anything.

He probably thought she was pathetic. That she’d even enjoyed being carried inside. Okay, she might have liked the strong feel of his arms wrapped around her, and the way he’d cuddled her close to his hard muscles, but she wouldn’t give in to the temptation of Conor Richmond.

Grunting and groaning from the doorway drew her attention.

What was her cousins’ problem? Lucas grumbled to himself as he struggled with his end of the mattress. He scrunched and mashed while Jimmy shoved from outside, trying to make it fit through the doorway. Good grief, couldn’t they carry in a stupid mattress?

It burst through and popped back into shape. Her eyes widened. This was taking things too far. Had Conor been instrumental in this? His tactics hadn’t worked a minute ago and they wouldn’t work now. When she glared at him, he only raised his eyebrows. Her cousins’ laughter didn’t help matters.

“There isn’t a darn thing funny about this. Of all the juvenile stunts! A heart-shaped mattress? I would’ve thought you had a little more imagination.” Conor shook his head. “Hey, this wasn’t my idea.

Blame someone else for the sense of humor.”

“I’m not laughing,” she ground out, her gaze swinging to her cousins.

They held up their hands at the same time, then grabbed for the falling mattress. “Not us. We swear, cuz.” Lucas grinned from ear to ear, then nodded toward her.

“Don’t twist your button off, squirt.” TEMPERATURE’S RISING

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She frowned and clasped her hands together in front of her. Damn nervous habit.

If not them, and not Conor, then who? Her father could’ve sent the mattress. No, surely not. She glared at the monstrosity dominating the hall. Angie? No . . . well . . .

maybe. She glanced at Conor again.

He shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I don’t have any idea.” She shook her head. This was ridiculous. The whole situation was ridiculous. This was a stakeout, not a love nest.

As her cousins dragged the mammoth mattress upstairs, she turned on Conor. “It doesn’t matter who sent it.

The only thing that’ll happen in that bed is sleep,” she whispered furiously.

“Positive?” He casually leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

She scowled. “Positive.”

So that was the game he played. A game of seduction so he could run her off. Humph. Like she would fall for that trick. It did make her wonder just how far he would take it.

Tantalizing images played across her mind. Conor tugging a black T-shirt over his head, skin oiled down and glistening in the muted light, but not so muted she couldn’t see every bulging muscle.

Her mouth went dry as the image grew stronger.

He’d fling the shirt away and slowly undo his tight jeans. First the top button, then he’d slide the zipper down, hook his fingers in the waistband and begin pushing his jeans over his hips.