Tease Me Page 13

  “I know you’re mine.” Her only response was a tiny moan at the back of her throat as she deepened the kiss, but it was enough to shake him. He felt his control spinning away rapidly.

  The quiet clearing of a throat brought him back to earth with a startling thud.

  “Don’t stare, Matilda, it’s rude” came an elderly rasp of a voice.

  “It’s sweet, Henry. The world needs more of that kind of thing if you ask me.”

  “I didn’t ask. Stop gawking.”

  Lainey broke contact and pulled away, her face on fire. Tucker worked hard at gathering his control, then reluctantly turned, tucking Lainey protectively under his arm before she could do something foolish, like escape. He nodded his head as the older couple passed them. “Evening,” he said between a clenched-jaw smile.

  The older woman beamed up at him, her faded eyes twinkling and a becoming blush lighting her cheeks. “Quite a beautiful one,” she said, her gaze moving to Lainey, then back to him.

  His own smile thawed and became natural. He winked at her. “Why, yes, it most certainly is.” He swallowed a chuckle as Henry took a tighter hold of Matilda’s elbow and shot Tucker a possessive glare.

  “Come along, Mattie,” he said. “We’ve got reservations.”

  Undaunted, she winked back at Tucker, then allowed her husband to propel her down the street. She patted his arm and said, “I’ve got no reservations about you, Henry, my always gallant protector.”

  Tucker shifted so that Lainey could see the departing couple. Henry raised Matilda’s hand and kissed it. Matilda responded with a laugh that made her seem far younger than her years. Then Henry made both Tucker and Lainey laugh when he glanced over his shoulder at them and shot them a quick grin and a wink, before continuing toward the hotel.

  “Wily old codger.” Lainey smiled with approval at the departing couple.

  Tucker tucked her closer to his side. “That’s what I want.”

  “Who wouldn’t,” she replied with a last wistful glance. When she turned back to him, her expression was sober. “It’s not you I don’t trust, Tucker. It’s me.”

  “What is it you think you have to do to prove you can trust yourself? How will you ever know you can unless you try?”

  Lainey sighed and eased from his grasp. “I want to help Minerva. I want to get that settled.” She looked at him, her eyes beseeching him. “For once, I need to follow through on one thing and see it finished before I get involved in the next.”

  She was mere inches away, yet Tucker felt as if there was an uncrossable chasm in that tiny space. Another kiss could likely bridge the breach, but he knew that conquering her resistance with kisses was a sure way to end up on her list of regrets. It had to be her choice.

  “Then let’s get Damian out of the way first.”

  She blinked, obviously surprised by his easy acquiescence.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Lainey. You can put up as many walls as you like. I will scale them as fast as you build them.”

  She lifted her chin. “Pretty bold words.”

  “I have pretty bold feelings where you’re concerned.” Her expression faltered once more, and he reached out and stroked her cheek again. “We’ll go at your pace, Lainey. But we will go.”

  NINE

  Lainey protested his self-assured mandate immediately, mostly because just hearing the certain promise in his words gave her a deep-down, private thrill that felt so wonderfully right, she knew it had to be wrong. “I’m not going anywhere unless I—”

  “Do you know if Damian gave Minerva a prospectus of any kind?” he interrupted.

  Surprised by the question, she answered automatically. “Yes, I think so, but—”

  “Where would it be? Can you get it?”

  Lainey frowned at his continued bullying tactics. He’d certainly switched gears easily enough. “I suppose so.” She tried not to pout. After all, he was giving her the space she’d asked for, wasn’t he? She refused to admit even to herself that she was already regretting yet another decision. But that didn’t stop her from wishing she could trade this polite, businesslike Tucker for the hot and barely-in-control Tucker who had whispered dark promises then kissed her in a way that made her believe he could keep them. She swallowed against a suddenly dry throat—the only thing dry about her at the moment—and twisted her fingers together to keep herself from reaching for him and to hell with decisions, rash or otherwise.

  “Whatever Damian gave her is probably in her apartment. She lives over the café.” Lainey stifled a sigh and forced her mind to the business at hand. “She’s out with Lillian and some of the other ladies tonight playing bingo at the community center. They don’t usually get home till eleven or twelve.”

  “Perfect. Let’s go.” He didn’t wait but headed toward the main street.

  Lainey trotted after him. “Wait a minute. Let’s go where?”

  “Minerva’s. I assume you have a key, right? Why don’t we go take a peek.”

  “Tucker, I don’t know …”

  He stopped, causing her to almost trip out of her high heels when she banged into him. He steadied her with a firm hand that made her knees wobble for reasons that had nothing to do with her shoes.

  I want you, Lainey. She couldn’t seem to look at him and not hear those words. I want you.

  “Do you want to help her or not?”

  “Ah … of course I want to help her,” she said, sounding more breathless than she should. She made herself straighten away from him and smoothed her dress. “I’m just a little uncomfortable about snooping through her things.”

  “But you’ll do it?”

  She frowned at him, wondering how in the hell one man could simultaneously make her hair-pulling crazy and so sexually frustrated, she could barely walk straight. “I don’t see where I’m having a real choice here. But what else is new?” She started up the street without waiting for him to follow. “Why I’m trying so hard to make calm, rational decisions around you, I have no idea. Doesn’t seem to make any difference, you’ve got me doing things your way no matter what.”

  Tucker’s deep chuckle came from directly behind her shoulder. “And I’m telling you your judgment is and always has been fine. You’re just proving me right.”

  Lainey ignored him and continued on around the corner, making it to the next one before speaking again. “All the other shops will be closed by now, but I think it might be a good idea to use the alley entrance.”

  “Good decision.”

  She shot him a hard look. “Don’t push it.”

  He gave her a “Who me?” look, but it changed to a unrepentant grin under her continuing glare. He shrugged. “Just making an observation.”

  “Let’s get this over with.” She let them into the kitchen area of the darkened café, then unlocked another door that opened onto a narrow staircase. “It’s up here.”

  She could feel Tucker’s big, warm presence behind her as she climbed the stairs. Her mind tortured her with images of what it would feel like to stop, turn around, and let him step up against her … press her against the wall … search for her mouth in the dark … find it, tease it with soft kisses.… She’d sigh and open for him … let her hands trail up his sides and over his back … grip his shoulders as he took the kiss deeper.…

  She dropped her keys. “Oh.” She was almost panting at this point and didn’t trust her knees enough to bend down and fumble around.

  “I’ve got them.” His voice was a deep whisper, and it was close. Oh, so close. She heard the keys jingle. “Lainey?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly, feeling her body sway ever so slightly toward him. She felt the warmth of his body, his breath lightly caressing her cheek as he crowded her on the landing between the top step and the door to Minerva’s apartment.

  “The keys? You want to unlock the door?”

  “Huh?” It took another second for his words to register. Thank goodness it was dark. Her cheeks were on fire—as was the rest of her body.
“The keys, right.”

  “They’re right here.”

  She heard the jingle as he dangled the keys in front of her. She snatched them from his hand, turned, and jabbed the key into the lock. She was a fickle fruitcake, she told herself as she continued to jab at the lock. She wasn’t one step closer to being the cool, calm, levelheaded woman she wanted to be. One second she was yelling at Tucker to leave her alone and the next she was ready to jump his bones in a dark stairwell. A dark stairwell leading to her aunt’s apartment no less! Maybe her self-improvement plan was doomed to fail. Maybe she would never be able to change.

  Maybe she should throw Tucker up against the nearest wall and beg him to take her, and to hell with self-improvement.

  “Where’s the light switch?”

  “Maybe you should get a grip on yourself and do things the way you said you would,” she muttered.

  “What was that?” he asked distractedly.

  She heard him groping the wall next to the door. With a disgusted sigh she reached out and flipped the switch, casting the small apartment in the soft glow of an antique stained-glass foyer lamp. “She keeps her papers in here.” Lainey didn’t look at Tucker as she stepped past him into the small living room. She was feeling like a consummate fool as well as a sneak, and she wanted this evening to be over as soon as possible.

  The sitting room, as her aunt was fond of calling it, was small. Two walls were lined with bookcases, crammed full with well-read books, framed photographs, and a tea-cup collection. A thinly padded floral brocade settee, fronted by a small Queen Anne coffee table and framed with matching end tables, faced the lace-curtained picture window. In contrast there was an overstuffed side chair with a standing lamp in the opposite corner. Lainey stepped unerringly around the faded brocade ottoman placed in front of the chair, reached under the fringed edge of the lampshade, and pulled the chain. This light was a bit brighter, revealing the large knitting basket wedged between the lamp and the chair and the numerous yellowed paperbacks stacked on the small table that ringed the lamp stand.

  She knelt in front of the antique oak secretary that occupied the remaining space and reached underneath the bottom drawer. Taped there was a small jeweler’s envelope containing a key, which she took out. She opened the desktop and lowered the writing surface, then pressed a small wooden panel inside the desk, which sprung open to reveal a small drawer. She used the key to unlock it and slid it open.

  “Quite the sleuth,” Tucker said from behind her shoulder.

  She’d been aware of his exact location every second but refused to let herself think about it. Her hands were thankfully steady as she lifted up the wooden lid. “She’s an Agatha Christie and Ngaio Marsh fan. She only bought this desk because of the secret compartments.”

  “A worthwhile reason.”

  Lainey smiled. “I thought so too.” She chanced a glance at him. “This was the only one she revealed to me, though.”

  He smiled back. “A woman has to have her secrets.”

  Lainey snapped her attention back to the drawer and lifted out a soft binder that had been folded in half. She opened it and scanned the cover. “ ‘Greensleigh Knolls, the resort for active seniors,’ ” she read. “There’s quite a bit here and …” She slid out another stack of papers that had been folded and wedged in the back. She un-folded them, then looked at Tucker. “It looks like a contract.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Lainey’s expression must have revealed her thoughts. Tucker took the papers from her hand. “We’ll go over this stuff with a fine-tooth comb. I’m sure we’ll find a way to prove this is a scam.”

  “What if it’s too late? If she signed this—”

  “We’ll get her out of it somehow.”

  “Well, we’ll never get all of this read before she gets home. I don’t have any idea when she’d check on these papers again, but I don’t think we should keep them.”

  “Lillian has a copier in her office at the salon. I’ve got the keys. We’ll pop over, make copies, and have the originals all back, safe and sound, before Minerva gets home.”

  Lainey shook her head. “Am I the only one who thinks this is starting to feel like a bad B movie?”

  Tucker grinned. “Bad B movies have at least one good thing going for them, though.” He headed for the door. “Are you coming with me or do you want to stay here?”

  The evening’s back on track, she schooled herself. “I’m coming.”

  He held the door for her. “You’re not going to ask me?” he said, as she stepped into the darkness at the top of the stairs.

  The light from the foyer caught the irrepressible twinkle in his eyes.

  She sighed. “I’m sure it’s another bad decision on my part, but what’s one more? Okay, what’s the best part about bad B movies?”

  Tucker pulled the door closed, shutting out all the light, and stepped next to her, crowding her in the small space. His voice was a whisper in the dark. “Because the hero always gets the girl.”

  “I’m not ‘the girl,’ ” she said, proud of her steady voice. However, her knees had gone all shaky, and she could barely hear over the thrumming beat of her heart.

  “Sure you are.” He stepped closer. “If I’m the hero, I choose who the girl is.” Her back hit the wall. He braced one hand on the wall above her shoulder and leaned in. “And I most definitely choose you.”

  She could feel his warm breath. His lips were right there for the taking. All she had to do was reach up and … She swallowed against a suddenly parched throat. Where had all the air gone? It was her stairwell fantasy, only it was real and about a hundred times better than she could have imagined.

  She reached out and gripped the handrail, then slid out from the narrow space between Tucker and the wall and took a step down before she did something … impulsive.

  “We’d …” She cleared her throat. “We’d better get those copies made.” She took another step, holding the railing for all she was worth, more to keep from reaching for Tucker than for balance. “It’s getting late.”

  She heard Tucker step down behind her and ordered her feet to keep going. She was in the storage room with her hand on the back door when she felt him move in close behind her.

  “It’s later than you think, Lainey.”

  A shiver of pure pleasure tingled down her spine. Minerva first, she ordered herself, think with your head.

  There were times when being responsible was a real drag.

  With a resolute tug, she opened the door and stepped out into the humid night air. A single light on a telephone pole cast the alley with a dull yellow glow. She headed straight toward the back of the salon without another look in Tucker’s direction.

  Tucker smiled at Lainey’s quickly retreating form. It had taken all of his self-control and then some to keep from tossing the papers down the stairs and hauling her up against that wall, wrapping those slender legs around his waist and kissing her until she agreed that all this dancing around was exactly that: a prelude to the inevitable. This was definitely the most excruciatingly protracted foreplay he’d ever experienced.

  But Tucker wanted more than a hot romp in a dark stairwell. He wanted hot romps whenever and wherever they chose to have them for the next fifty years. He wanted it all. So he’d let her run. Again. Because when they started romping, he damn sure didn’t want anything between them but one-hundred-percent unrepentant, open-ended need.

  He watched her tuck her hands tightly across her waist and tap her toe as she impatiently waited for him to catch up. Oh, I’ve not only caught up, I’m a whole bunch of steps ahead of you, he thought. He’d backtrack and follow her lead, but that didn’t mean he didn’t intend to do whatever it took to nudge her down the path of choice. The one that ended in his arms … and in his heart.

  He walked the last several feet and didn’t stop until he was directly in her personal space. There was enough light to see her eyes widen in reaction to his proximity, then narrow warily. She stepped back. He slid a
quick glance over the front of her dress, where her crossed arms had pushed up her breasts—her aroused breasts. He smiled even as the ache grew and tightened inside him, then turned toward the door and fished the keys from his suddenly less roomy pants pocket.

  He stepped inside and held the door for her. “This way.” He waited for the door to click shut behind her, then led the way down a short, dark hallway. Using another key, he let them into a small office. Instead of flipping on the bright fluorescents overhead, he turned on a small chrome desk lamp.

  “Is that a—”

  “Lava lamp,” Tucker finished, staring at the two-foot-high monstrosity that graced the corner of Lillian’s postmodern black acrylic desk.

  “It’s purple.”

  Tucker understood her reaction; it mirrored his own the first time he’d seen the violet globs oozing up and down inside the glass lamp. “Her favorite color,” he said.

  She glanced around the room. “It pains me to say this, but it actually goes with her decor.” Lainey smiled when he laughed, then quickly turned to the copier and searched for the power switch.

  “It’s on the right side, in the back,” he said.

  She found it as the sudden hum of the machine testified.

  “It takes a few minutes to rim the warm-up program.” There were two semicircular, black patent-leather chairs fronting Lillian’s desk. Tucker dragged one close to the other, sat down, and motioned to the empty chair. “Why don’t we flip through this while we wait? See what we’re dealing with here.”

  Lainey held her position standing guard over the copier, her spine rigid. “If you don’t think Lillian will mind, let’s just make two copies, put the originals back, and call it a night. We can both go over them on our own, come up with some ideas, and discuss them later.”

  Tucker reined in a frustrated sigh. Maybe it was time to step back a little, give them both some space. Neither his head nor his heart bought that theory. His body was certainly calling in with a very vocal no vote. But there was no doubt that she had to resolve the situation in her own way. The tough part was admitting that his frustration was actually based more on fear than an overdose of unrequited testosterone-fueled lust—fear that when this was all said and done, no matter how he handled it, she might not choose him.