The Heartbreaker (5 page)

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Authors: Vicki Lewis Thompson

BOOK: The Heartbreaker
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M
IKE LONGED TO CRUSH Beth to him and bury his pain in an orgy of passion, but being exposed to the depth of his need might scare her away. And his needs were deeper than even he had realized. Her touch, her gentle voice and her empathy had created a thirst he could not deny. He couldn't let her leave without holding her once more and drinking sweet comfort from her lips.
At first he kept the pressure of his mouth light, the kiss almost platonic. Almost. Tasting her again made his head swim. Her scent was spicier and more womanly than it had been eight years ago, but her mouth was a remembered wonder, her kiss the beginning of a journey he knew he must take one day or lose his sanity.
As the velvet firmness of her lips softened a fraction, he allowed himself the smallest aggression, subtly coaxing her to open to him. Her lips parted slowly, cautiously. He fought the needs coursing through him and took only as much as she offered, then gently urged her to offer more.
Heart hammering, he drew the tip of her tongue into his mouth. She trembled, and he steadied her with a hand at her waist while he stroked his tongue against hers. Her soft moan told him she might allow more. He didn't take more.
Instead he lifted his head and opened his eyes. There. That was the moment he'd dreamed of, the moment he'd been denied twice—once when Ernie had called to them and brought an abrupt end to their kiss, and last night, when she bit him. Her eyes remained closed, her dark lashes resting against cheeks tinged pink with desire, her mouth rosy and ripe with promise. How he longed to return there. Yet he waited.
Her eyes drifted open, and all his dreams found an answer in their shadowy blue depths.
Then she squeezed her eyes shut and pushed away from him. “That was despicable of me.”
“No. Beth—”
“I'm going to ask you to ignore what just happened.” She straightened her shoulders and looked him square in the face, as if she were facing a firing squad. “Please.”
“I can't.” His voice was raw from wanting her.
“Suit yourself. I'm going to ignore it”
“I don't think you can, either.” He could even prove the point by taking her in his arms again, but he wouldn't. Not if it made her hate herself. “There's something between us, Beth. I think there always has been.”
She drew in a breath and took another step backward. “Okay, I won't deny that I...I'm attracted to you. But that doesn't mean I'll ever do anything about it.”
“Why not?”
“I can't believe you have to ask.”
“I'm not engaged to Alana anymore. I never plan to be engaged to her again. We're all different people, now.”
“Are you different?” She pulled her hair back and grabbed the elasticized fabric from the worktable. The action caused her breasts to push against the thin material of her sleeveless shirt. “Or are you just acting true to form, going after the most available woman around?”
The words stung, and he lashed back. “Ah, so that's your other reason for shoving me away. You think I only kissed you because you're the female who happens to be here. If Cindy Crawford was around, I'd be kissing her, or if she couldn't make it and Demi Moore showed up, I'd try to seduce Demi. Is that the idea?”
“More or less.” She secured her hair on top of her head with the hairpins, lifting her arms in a graceful motion as she finished the task.
Despite his anger, he ached to press his mouth against the creamy underside of her arm, to hold her hands above her head and kiss the hollow of her throat, the angle of her collarbone, the shadowed cleft between her breasts.
“You happen to like women, Mike,” she continued. “And they like you, obviously. You're a man of the world, now, one who's probably experienced some... unusual sexual customs in your travels.”
In reality he'd discovered more similarities than differences in sexual practices, but he decided to foster the image she held. “I suppose you picture me cavorting with bare-breasted native women.”
“Well, have you?”
“I'm a man, Beth. I didn't live like a monk while I was in Brazil.”
“And were your experiences...different?”
“Yes.” He paused. “Does that excite you?” The question was unnecessary, he thought. Her quickened breathing and the fire in her eyes gave him the answer. “The women I made love to in the rain forest have a freedom about their behavior,” he added. “They don't play games. Instead they're interested in satisfying a basic human need.”
“Life isn't always that simple.”
“Apparently not.”
She took a deep breath. “Knowing that Alana still cares for you, I couldn't live with myself if you and I...”
“Then you must also feel guilty for not telling her I'm here.”
“I do, but I don't want her to jeopardize her business.”
His gaze was unrelenting. “Wouldn't that be her move, not yours?”
She hesitated, as if to argue, then nodded. “Yes. I should have told her.”
“But you didn't And my guess is that your hidden reason, way in the back of your mind, was that you and I could let this attraction take its natural course, and she'd never have to know.”
She blushed. “God, you force me to be honest with myself! Yes, okay, I probably did think that, and I'm not proud of it. And now that you've stated it so baldly, I realize I could never give into that kind of sneaky behavior, so just forget it, Mike.”
He gazed at her with amusement “Highly unlikely that I can do that, Beth.”
“Well, try!”
“Look, I would never want to hurt you or Alana any more than I already have, but I don't think we can just ignore whatever's between us. Alana's kiss hasn't haunted me for eight years. Yours has.”
The light that ignited in her eyes was soon doused, as if by a conscious act of will. “That's pretty convenient, considering I'm the one in Bisbee and Alana's in the Ozarks.”
He gave her a weary grin. “There you are again, old prove-it-to-me Beth. You really haven't changed, have you?”
“I've changed a lot.”
“But you still want cold, hard evidence. Like when I had to jump my bike off the brewery steps. I can still picture you putting your fists on those skinny little hips and saying,
Prove it
,
Mikey.
So damned if I didn't try to prove it to you.”
“Oh, I'm sure that you did it for Alana, not me. I just happened to be along.”
“Let me refresh your memory,” he said. “Alana wasn't there. And the time I skateboarded down Tombstone Canyon Road and just about killed myself, Alana wasn't there. And when I climbed over the fence into the open-pit mine and almost fell four hundred feet, Alana wasn't there. I did those things to impress you, not Alana.”
“But Alana was the one who—”
“Who told me I was her boyfriend. At that age you don't argue. You don't even know what's going on. You go with the flow. A teenage crush somehow escalates into wedding plans. And then, one champagne-filled night, you make a mistake, or maybe you finally follow your heart, and you're holding the other sister in your arms. Then—”
“I don't want to hear this.” She put her hands over her ears in a gesture that came straight from their childhood. Her cheeks grew pink as she took them away again immediately and straightened in an apparent attempt to seem more adult. “I think you're rewriting history.”
“Maybe. Or maybe eight years in the jungle gives a guy some perspective.”
She ran a tongue nervously over her lips. “I need to get back to the studio.”
He followed the direction of her tongue and a sweet ache invaded his groin. “And I need to settle in here and get used to the equipment so I can start turning out some cutters for you.” He remembered that she had an appointment with Huxford tonight. “Want me to come over and hang around while you give our friend from Chicago the bad news?”
“No. Thanks for offering, but I'll handle it.”
“He planned to buy you dinner, didn't he?”
“I don't think he will, under the circumstances.”
“Then let me.”
“Mike, that's really not a good idea. The less we see of each other socially, the better.”
“Or maybe if we spend some time together we'll figure this thing out. Is Café Roca as good as it used to be?”
“Yes, but—”
“We can meet there if you don't want me to pick you up. Then we can each go home to our respective places.”
“You're not driving into Tucson to see Ernie?”
“No. When I was there this morning I told him I'd be staying at the shop late to get ready for a full day of work tomorrow.” He could tell she was tempted. “Come on, Beth. I don't have any buddies in town anymore, and I don't want to eat hot dogs and beans by myself tonight.”
She smiled. “Is that what's in your father's cupboard?”
“Mostly. Ernie's not much on gourmet food, which is okay because I never learned to cook, either, except over a campfire.”
She sighed. “Okay, we can have dinner. Dutch.”
“Listen, I'd like to—”
“No, you listen. Dutch,” she said. “Give me about forty-five minutes with Colby. I'll meet you at the restaurant about quarter to eight, if you'll be through at the shop by then.”
“I'll be through.” He gazed at her. “If I came by for you, it might be easier to get rid of him in case he's still around.”
“Mike, I'm a big girl. I'll handle Colby.”
“Okay.” He forced himself to accept that He wanted like hell to go to the studio and make sure Huxford had been kicked out of town, but she didn't want him to, so he'd meet her at the restaurant They'd share a meal and a bottle of wine. And then...they'd see.
 
COLBY ARRIVED at the studio while Beth was behind the counter totaling the day's receipts. His dark hair was slicked back as usual, and he wore what Beth concluded was casual dress for a guy like him—an open-necked shirt, slacks and a blazer. She hoped he was careful to stay in air-conditioned cars or buildings; otherwise he'd pass out with all those layers on. She suspected he liked the padded-shoulder effect of a suit or blazer, whereas some men, like Mike, for example, didn't need the help. Then she chastised herself for making the comparison. Mike's body was not a topic she cared to think about
“Have a good day?” Colby asked, laying his briefcase on the studio's sales counter.
Beth's traitorous mind offered up a Technicolor, sensory-enhanced picture of Mike's kiss. “An eventful day,” she said.
“Ready to sign the lease agreement and go out for a good meal?”
Beth folded her hands and placed them on the counter while she met Colby's gaze. His gray eyes, usually as businesslike as a flannel suit, were warm with approval as he surveyed her. That was the first moment she realized he was interested in more than a contract for her cutter. He probably thought everything was as good as settled, and his matter-of-fact approach had given way to frank appreciation.
She hadn't helped any by the way she was dressed, but she'd been thinking about having dinner with Mike when she'd put on the scoop-necked white gauze dress and the blue beaded earrings that matched her eyes. Not that she wanted to impress Mike, of course. But she didn't want to appear for dinner looking like a hag, either. She hadn't factored in the possibility that Colby would think she'd dressed for dinner with him, instead.
“I suppose you have a flight scheduled back to Chicago tomorrow,” she said, supposing nothing of the kind.
He leaned against the counter in a show of easy familiarity. “Actually I thought I'd courier the contract back to Chicago and take a little vacation”
“Oh?” She didn't like this, didn't like it at all. “Where are you going?” As if he was going anywhere. She knew that look, and it meant a guy had plans, and dinner was only the first phase.
“I booked a room at one of your bed-and-breakfast places. Your remark about the good restaurants in Bisbee made me realize I'd barely taken time to see the area.” He smiled, displaying his teeth. “I thought you might have some time to show me around.”
For one weak moment she wished she'd taken Mike up on his offer to hang around while she delivered the news to Colby. She took a deep breath, reviewed why it was important to rely on herself instead of someone else, especially someone as unpredictable as Mike, and the moment passed.
“I don't think I'll have much time to show you around, Colby. I—”
“But the cutter will be off your mind, and I've noticed that your studio doesn't do much business this time of year, so I thought maybe—”

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