Vet's Desire (16 page)

“How about that
Italian bloke?”

“Nah. No magic
there.”

“Look at us,
we’ll end up two unmarried, bitter old siblings, sharing a house
and screeching at each other to be heard through our hearing
aids.”

“Overrun with
cats,” she added.

“Could be
worse,” he said. Reaching over, he patted her hand. “Could be
worse.”

Catching a
reflection of something in his eyes, Cindy’s heart did a little
flip. She just knew he was speaking about something else, but even
as she ached to ask him what had happened in the war, she did what
she knew would comfort him. Turning her hand over, she gave his a
little squeeze of understanding and acceptance, and immediately he
relaxed back in the chair.

“Thanks,” he
said softly.

“Don’t mention
it.”

The French
doors opened a few minutes later and Marty stuck his head out.
“Good grief. Holed up out here in the dark. Come on, Alex, I’ve got
someone I want you to meet.”

“Do I have to?”
Alex sounded pained.

“Of course.
I’ve kept the very best for you, you ungrateful sod. Cindy, if you
don’t get your arse inside soon, Mum will come out here and drag
you inside. Mingle, girl, mingle!”

“We should have
locked the door.” Alex stood.

“Duty calls.”
Cindy started to pick up the tray, only to straighten when Alex
took it instead.

“Ever the
gentleman,” Marty observed.

“More than
you’ll ever be, anyway.” Alex shouldered him aside.

Marty
retaliated, shoving him back, and they both ended up in a shoving
match that had them spilling into the ballroom, by some miracle
Alex retaining his hold on the tray without tipping anything off,
and Marty without falling to his knees.

Grinning, Cindy
followed them inside, only to catch sight of both her parents
giving the siblings the eagle eye from right across the room.
Changing her tactics, Cindy shook her head sorrowfully and pointed
at her brothers ahead of her.

“I know what
you’re doing,” Alex informed her without turning his head.

“Don’t.”

“There’s a
mirror across the room.”

“Be sure your
evil deeds will find you out.” Marty smirked.

“I can’t give
it to you in public, but inside my mind I’m flipping you both the
bird,” she retorted.

Alex
laughed.

Marty steered
him away and Cindy wandered around, greeting several people she
knew and stopping to chat now and again. She was pleased when she
spotted Sharon DeLamer, who saw her and waved gaily before swaying
across the short distance separating them. Her gown clung to a
figure that made many men’s mouths water, including Marty, who,
Cindy noticed, was in the act of heading for the other side of the
room but did a u-turn and headed straight towards them.

“Danger
coming,” Cindy warned Sharon.

Sharon took a
look over her shoulder and arched one brow. “That man will come
undone one day.”

“Marty has a
death wish,” Cindy agreed.

Marty arrived
and proceeded to try and chat up Sharon, but having gone out with
him once she firmly put him in his place and with a resigned sigh,
Marty headed off to find more forgiving prey.

Sharon
introduced her to several people that she knew, and Cindy chatted,
drank a little champagne, and eventually found herself sitting on a
bench near a potted plant with a middle-aged man who was making
nice with conversation, but lustful with his gaze drifting down to
her cleavage every couple of seconds.

No doubt he
thought he had a chance with her. She finally gave him a firm ‘no’
to his advances, threatened to name and shame him to his wife and
Dr Clarke, and watched in satisfaction as he left, his back stiff
and his cheeks flushed.

“Done with
style,” drawled a well-known voice behind her, one that infused a
shiver of warmth right down her spine. Taking a deep breath, she
looked up as Tim stepped into view from behind the potted
plant.

And immediately
she burst out laughing.

He arched one
brow inquiringly. “Care to share the joke?”

“Your
shirt.”

“Oh.” Tim
smoothed his hand down over the t-shirt he wore beneath an open
dinner jacket. On it was written
Hot for sex? Come and get
burned, baby, burned!
“You like it?”

“Better than
your mother does, I’m sure.”

“You should
have seen her eyes when she saw it. She loved it, only she doesn’t
like to show it.”

“Riiiight.”

“So.” Tim
nodded in the direction in which Cindy’s unwanted suitor had
disappeared. “Not wanting lover boy?”

“Let’s just say
we had different plans for the evening.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. He wanted
a piece of me, I wanted a piece of anything else.”

Amused, Tim
grinned.

That grin, that
roguish, yet understanding turn of his lips, made that warmth
shiver through her again.

Ye gods, what
was wrong with her? Just looking at him, tall and lean, knowing the
strength hidden beneath that smart dinner jacket, it brought back
the memory of that strength, those arms, those hands, that wicked
mouth…that hedonistic knowledge that - She looked away, moistening
her lips.
Stop it. You’re not his type, remember? Act
normal.

Act normal
while she still had his fingerprints embedded in her bottom cheeks,
his grip had been that hard.

Tim made to
move away and she breathed an inward sigh of relief, only to have
him sigh in turn, only out loud. He surprised her by sitting down
on the bench right beside her. There wasn’t much room, so unless
she wanted to pointedly get up and walk away, she could do nothing
but sit right beside him and watch the dancers.

Dancers. Oh
boy. That’s how their intimate encounter had started. Dancing.

“Cindy,” Tim
began, then, “Shit.”

“Oh, nice place
to put my name, right beside that swear word.” She concentrated on
getting her pulse to slow down.

Since when had
she had a heart problem? Since Tim, obviously, going by the pulse
that continued to leap a little at his closeness. He smelled clean,
his cologne subtle yet distinctly male, drifting through her
senses…just like it had that day he’d taken her on the table.

“Sorry. I
didn’t mean to.” Leaning his elbows on his knees, Tim linked his
hands together and dangled them between his knees as he also kept
his gaze on the dancers.

Searching for
something - anything - to say, Cindy said, “I guess Hannah being
your Aunt gives you automatic invite?”

If you mean the
summons from Hell, yes.”

“Huh. I’d heard
you didn’t get along with your Mum.” She slanted a sideways look at
him, studying his profile. “Seen it too, in fact.”

“From her other
parties.” Tim nodded. “I’ve seen you at them.”

“From a
distance.”

“Yes.”

“Because I’m
not your type.” Now why had she said
that
?

“Precisely.”
Turning his head, he looked her directly in the eyes. “I need to
apologise for the other day.”

“Because it
worked so well then.”

“I can be a
klutz when it comes to words.”

“Really? I
heard you can be a charmer - to the right kind of girl.” Holy heck,
where were these words coming from?

“You’re still
mad.”

“Whatever gave
you that idea?”

“Your eyes are
positively sparkling with fury.” His gaze wandered over her face.
“Your lips are also pressed tightly together.”

Consciously,
she sought to relax her features. “Better?”

“I’m not sure.
You did that so skilfully, it’s scary. Reminds me of my
mother.”

“Oh, because
that sentence is going to make me forgive you.”

His eyes
narrowed a little as he continued to regard her steadily.

Cindy eyed him
right back because, hell yes, she was still mad at him. She’d
thought she’d dismissed him so easily and look at that, turned out
she’d just pushed it underneath and now she was sitting beside him,
that anger was just bubbling back up to the surface again.

Tim studied her
before saying quietly, “Yeah, I want you to forgive me, and isn’t
that the joke of the day?”

Cindy blinked.
“I beg your pardon?”

A couple went
past, talking loudly, and he stood up. “Let’s go find somewhere
private to talk.”

“Why?”

“Because we
need to.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Jesus, Rick and Mike all
over again. I have to stop spending so much time with them.”

“What? How much
have you had to drink?”

“Obviously not
enough.” He held his hand out to her. “Please?”

A glance across
the ballroom showed Marty standing beside a beautiful brunette, his
gaze fastened on Cindy and Tim, and he didn’t look happy. Probably
because Cindy wasn’t getting up happily, which meant she wasn’t
happy, which meant that Marty was going to come across any minute
to find out why.

That was not
something she wanted to happen.

Taking Tim’s
hand, she let him help her up before releasing his hold.

It didn’t deter
him. Cupping his arm under her elbow, he steered them around the
edges of the ballroom and out onto one of the verandas, closing the
French doors behind them. The light from the ballroom spilt between
the curtains and he drew Cindy to the side into the shadows.

Turning to
place her back against the marble rail, Cindy folded her arms and
regarded Tim in the gloom.

Gaze flicking
down to her bosom, he inhaled loudly and leaned back against the
wall, his hands going into his pockets as he slouched comfortably
back. But she wasn’t fooled, for while he might have appeared calm,
she could feel his tension.

“Okay.” She
broke the silence. “I came out here to save you from Marty causing
a scene. This better be worth it.”

“Your family is
close.”

“You could say
that.”

Tim was silent
for so long that Cindy thought he’d changed his mind about talking,
but when she impatiently made a move to leave, he stepped forward
quickly, grabbing her arm and blocking her.

She felt that
touch on her arm clear down to her soul, warm and tingling.

For several
long seconds there were only the combined sounds of their
breathing, the cool of the night, the music floating through the
closed French doors, and the heat between their bodies.

Cindy couldn’t
help but suck in a deep breath. God, he smelled so
delicious
.

Abruptly, Tim
jerked her towards him, to kiss her, she just knew by the way his
head inclined downwards towards her, only he just as abruptly
shoved her back again.

Boy, did that
hurt, and not physically. She blinked, refusing to show it. “Wow,
man of decision. Am I that abhorrent to you, Clarke?”

“No, I -
damn it.
Damn it, Cindy.” He thrust one hand through his
hair. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You want
forgiveness now for the non-kiss? I ought to kick your indecisive
arse. I don’t blow bloody hot and cold like you, you jerk.” She
made to push past him again, only to be stopped once more by Tim
grabbing her shoulders and whirling her around to push her up
against the wall.

Before she
could step forward he leaned down, his face close to hers, and she
could see the glitter of his eyes, the frustration and desire mixed
in his darkened expression.

“You want the
truth, Cindy? I was going to ask forgiveness for the other day but
you know what? I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry that I took you on the
table, I’m not sorry that I buried myself in your body, that I
found more pleasure in your lush heat than I’ve ever known. You
turn me on, Cindy.” He nodded, a muscle flexing beside his mouth.
“Yeah, you make my dick so hard that I’ve had more than one cold
shower since that day. Was it only the other day? Hell, it feels
like weeks ago, yet it feels like hours only all at the same
freakin’ time.”

Mouth open, she
could only stare up at him.

“You think your
weight is a factor I don’t like. News for you, baby. Your curves
turn me on, your softness, your - your -
everything
.” He
sucked in a hard breath, his nostrils flaring slightly. “And your
scent, Jesus, your scent haunts me. Listen to me, I sound like
bloody Mike or Rick.” His laugh was short and hard, almost
bitter.

“So why-”she
started, only to have him lay a finger against her lips and shake
his head.

“I’m not into
confessions, Cindy. I’m not into this talking out our feelings
crap, so listen up, because I won’t be saying this ever again.
You’re not my type of woman. I choose women who can take the love
‘em and leave ‘em that I do. I’m not into forever after. I know it
doesn’t last. I-”

“So what about
Mike and Rick?” she interrupted, really wanting to know. “You don’t
believe their marriages will last?”

His eyes
narrowed. “Yeah, they’ll last. Maybe I should make it clearer. My
relationships don’t last, I don’t want them to, I don’t seek to
make them work. You’re an ever after kind of woman, Cindy, and I’m
not an ever after kind of man. That’s why I don’t choose you as my
type of woman. I want sex, the instant gratification, no strings
attached. You’re not that kind of woman.” Closing his mouth
tightly, he regarded her steadily.

Daringly.

Bloody man.

“So, you think
I’m not your type, huh?” She retorted furiously. “You choose your
type of woman. What the hell do you know about me, Tim? What? I’ll
tell you. Sweet bloody nothing. You think I have forever after on
my mind.
You
think
I
need a man to make my life
complete. Boy, are you barking up the wrong tree - hound dog.”
Stabbing a forefinger into his chest, she snarled. “Listen good,
sunshine.
I
choose who
I
sleep with. Who
I
have sex with. And so far, my choices haven’t been the forever
after kind of bloke. Do you know why?”