High-Powered, Hot-Blooded / Westmoreland's Way: High-Powered, Hot-Blooded / Westmoreland's Way

“Are you putting me in my place?”

“Do you need me to do that? I’m tougher than I look, Duncan.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you are.”

While it hadn’t been her best time ever, Annie managed to get through the dinner without spilling, saying anything she regretted or withdrawing completely. She’d managed to hold her own on a debate about charter schools and had offered an opinion on the latest movie sensation. When everyone was standing up to leave, the waiter appeared with two large brown bags.

“For those hungry college girls you have at home,” Duncan said. “Three entrées and dessert for all. It’ll keep them out of your secret stash.”

She was both surprised and touched. Talk about thoughtful. As they moved toward the exit, she walked slowly, waiting until everyone else had left. Then she put the bags on the nearby table, rested her hand on Duncan’s shoulder, reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re a total fraud,” she whispered. “You’re not mean at all.”

He dropped his arm around her waist and drew her closer. When he kissed her back, it wasn’t on the cheek and it wasn’t meaningless. Duncan pressed his lips to hers with a force that took her breath away. He claimed, his mouth moving against hers. There was no doubt of what he wanted, or of the fact that his intensity hinted he might just take it without asking.

She was pressed against him, his arm like a band around her, holding her in place. There was no escape, but there also wasn’t any fear, either. Instead of wanting to struggle with him, she found herself yielding, instinctively realizing that he expected a fight. Surrender was the only way to win.

As soon as she relaxed, so did his hold. His mouth gentled, still taking but with a teasing quality. She was aware of silence around them, the air of expectation. He lightly brushed her bottom lip with his tongue.

Fire shot through her. She parted for him and he claimed her with a passion that left her weak. The second his tongue touched hers she was lost. Wanting poured through her, making her surge closer. Unfamiliar desperation swamped her. She wrapped her other arm around his neck and pressed harder against the thick muscles of his chest. He could snap her like a twig, if he wanted, and that was very much a part of his appeal. The strength of him. If Duncan ever fully committed to someone, that woman would be cared for and protected forever.

He stroked the inside of her mouth, exploring, arousing. She answered each touch with a brush of her own. His hands moved against her back, before dropping lower to her hips.

Heat invaded. Wanting grew. The need was unexpectedly powerful. She’d dated before, had made love before, had even thought she’d been in love before. But none of those experiences had prepared her for a passionate kiss in Duncan’s arms.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he drew back.

“Annie,” he began, his tone warning.

She didn’t know if he was going to remind her that their deal didn’t include sex or that she was playing with fire. She met his dark, smoldering gaze and shook her head, then collected the doggie bags and turned to leave.

She didn’t want to hear that she wasn’t anyone he could be interested in. Not tonight. As to the danger of playing with fire…it was simply something she was going to have to risk.

Chapter Five

“I’m sorry I can’t make it tonight,” Annie said, both frustrated and worried. She was starting to enjoy her evenings with Duncan at the various functions he took her to. But she was also worried about their deal. “I hope you understand. It’s a holiday emergency.”

“A contingency we seem to have missed in our agreement.”

Annie couldn’t tell if he was pissed or not and found herself a little nervous about asking.

“It’s just we had a lot of no-shows last weekend when the parents were supposed to help with the set decorations.”

“For the Christmas play?” he asked.

“It’s a winter festival, Duncan. We don’t promote any one holiday celebration.”

“And calling it a winter festival fools people?”

She heard the humor in his voice. “It’s inclusive. So there are a bunch of sets to be built and painted. I have to stay and help.”

“What is your class doing?”

“Singing ‘Catch a Falling Star’ while using American Sign Language at the same time.”

“Multitasking at five. Impressive. All right, Ms. McCoy. Call me when the sets are decorated. If there’s time, I’ll take you to the cocktail party with me.”

“I’m sorry to miss it,” she said, sincere in her regret.

“You don’t know that you will yet, do you?”

“We’re not exactly a talented group when it comes to woodworking, Duncan. We’re going to be here all night.”

“Just call me.”

She hung up and walked back into the main auditorium building. The other teachers and a couple of volunteers were dividing up the work. As the closest Annie had come to construction was the knitting class she’d taken the previous summer, she was given paint detail.

Thirty minutes later everyone was hard at work, building, sanding and painting. Fifteen minutes after that, four big guys in T-shirts, jeans and work boots walked in. Each man had an impressively large toolbox with him. The principal turned off the saw and removed her safety goggles.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“We’re here to help with the sets,” one of the guys said. “Duncan Patrick sent us.”

The teachers looked around in confusion. Annie cleared her throat. “He’s, ah, a friend of mine. I mentioned we hadn’t had our usual parent volunteers.” She was trying to look perfectly normal, which probably wasn’t working, seeing as she couldn’t stop smiling. A light, happy feeling made her think she just might be able to float home instead of drive.

The principal sighed gratefully. “We are desperate. Have you ever worked on sets for a school play before?”

The men exchanged glances. “Two of us are cabinet makers, and two of us are house painters, ma’am. We can handle it. If you’ll just tell us what needs to be done, leave us to finish it and we’re good.”

Annie pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Duncan’s number. “Thank you,” she whispered when he picked up. “This is amazing.”

“This is me making sure you don’t back out of our deal. I’ll pick you up at five. It won’t be a late evening.”

She wanted to say more, to have him admit he’d gone way out of his way to help her. But something inside her told her he didn’t want to take credit for what he’d done. The question was why. What in Duncan’s past made him believe that being nice and kind and honorable was a bad thing? Had someone hurt him? Maybe it was time to find out.

“I don’t understand,” Annie said as she put the key in the front door lock and turned it. “He’s a banker. He has lots of money. So why does he care about yours?”

“Banks get money from other people and make profit off it,” Duncan told her. “Loaning it out, investing it. The bigger the accounts, the more income for the bank.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, obviously not convinced.

They’d spent the past two hours at a boring cocktail party. In theory the evening had been about networking, but it had become clear that Duncan had been invited so a prominent banker could solicit his business. Normally he didn’t mind being courted—it could make for an excellent deal. But tonight he hadn’t been in the mood.

Instead he’d been watching the clock and checking his cell phone.

Annie shrugged out of her black wrap and dropped it on the sofa. She bent over to remove her high heels, wincing as she pulled them off.

“They weren’t kidding,” she murmured, curling her toes into the carpet. “Beauty is pain.”