Deadly Sight

“How could I say no to you?” he managed to choke out.

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the mouth. He was so stunned he just stood there and let her.

“Well, don’t you two make the most darling couple?” the Realtor cooed from behind Sammie Jo.

Couple? A tiny voice wailed in the back of his mind, Nooooooo. One. Month.

He shook hands and murmured appropriate inanities as Sammie Jo introduced him to the Realtor. In a fugue state that made him feel more robot than man, he followed the women inside and duly signed a lease.

He roused enough from his state of horror to register faint surprise at Sammie Jo’s signature. Samantha Jessup. Samantha, huh? Suddenly, the idea of calling her Sam didn’t seem so wrong. As a derivative of Samantha, it wasn’t nearly as masculine and awkward as he’d thought it was. Thankfully, as soon as she dropped a hint about him officially carrying her over the threshold now that it was theirs, the Realtor laughed and took her leave.

“Are you okay?” Sammie Jo mumbled in concern as soon as the Realtor’s car door slammed shut.

“What have you done—” he started as they stood on the porch and watched the woman’s car pull out of the driveway.

“Inside, sweetheart,” she murmured, sotto voce. “The neighbors will be watching.”

“In that case …” He bent down and swept his arms around her. He lifted her in his arms and strode toward the front door. But Lord, the price of it. Using techniques a trauma therapist had taught him, he blanked his mind completely. And then, bit by bit, he let in the details of this one moment. The cool air. The autumn smell of burned leaves. The weight and softness of the woman in his arms. A hint of roses as she shifted slightly. The way his breathing deepened in response to her.

Laughing, she reached down to open the door for him. He added the sultry delight in her laughter to his inventory of sensations.

Carefully, carefully he reached past this moment to the next safest thing: his job. This was a cover. They had to establish themselves as a couple. Being absolutely certain to let no emotion creep into him, he paused in the doorway and leaned his head down to kiss her.

What he hadn’t counted on was her kissing him back. On her mouth opening in surprise beneath his, on her tasting like chantilly cream, all sweet and fluffy with a hint of vanilla. Her arms went around his neck, and she moaned in her throat. She went soft and warm in his arms, cuddling up against him like a purring kitten. Gone was the predator, replaced by this entirely foreign—and entirely female—female.

She casually smashed through every barrier he’d erected for himself, ripping away the fog he’d wrapped himself in like a protective blanket. All that was left was something raw and unnamable, both needy and violent. It scared the living hell out of him.

But the job demanded it, right? It was all part of their cover. It was okay. He let go of the fear and allowed in the sensations bombarding him from every direction. He tested her lips with the tip of his tongue and they were as tasty and alluring as the rest of her. She kissed him back eagerly, almost as if she’d been thinking about it for a while and wondering what it would be like.

And then the heat really amped up between them. What changed, he wasn’t sure. But one second they were kissing, and the next, they were kissing. She was pulling his head down to hers, he was plundering her mouth with lips and tongue, she was devouring him back, and raging need to get her naked roared through him.

He stepped all the way inside the house and kicked the door shut. Not breaking the incendiary kiss, he let her body slide down to the floor slowly, registering every feminine curve that pressed wantonly against him. It had been so long. So very long …

“You’re making me think naughty thoughts,” she gasped.

“That’s how you like it, isn’t it?” he murmured back. “Naughty.”

Her lips curved in a smile so smoking hot he was vaguely surprised his hair didn’t catch on fire. “I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

And with that, she stepped back from him. She spun into the room off the left of the tiny foyer. Her full skirt twirled around her and she looked like a fresh, young girl. Where had the edgy, tough goth chick disappeared to? He fought to form a coherent thought and came up with, “What’s with the retro virgin look?”

She laughed gaily. “I gather from the enthusiastic welcome home that you like the look?”

He shrugged. “The neighbors were watching.” He wished the words back as soon as he saw her face fall in disappointment. But then she rushed to the corner, yanking at the edge of a horrible gold shag carpet that looked nearly original to the house.

“Check out the hardwood beneath this hideous stuff. Once we pull up the carpet and buff the floor, it’ll be gorgeous.”

“I’m not doing home improvement projects on our hideout!”

“But that’s our cover. We’re setting up our first home together. If folks see us doing yard work and painting and replacing carpet, they’ll know we’re moving in for good. They’ll open up to us.”

“How long are we supposed to spend playing house and hoping it leads to some information?”

“As long as it takes,” she answered blithely.

“You’re mad.”

She threw him a disingenuously innocent look. “Why, I’m not mad at all. I’m thrilled. Let’s make a list and head out to the home-improvement store right now. Shelly—she’s the Realtor—told me where it is.”

“Seriously, Sam. This is nuts.”

“Seriously, Gray. It’ll work. Trust me.”

“I hardly know you! How am I supposed to be your fiancé full-time and in public, no less?”

She laughed. “That kiss you laid on me was a bit more than a hello-it’s-nice-to-meet-you peck. Just go with that.”

“What the hell does that kiss have to do with anything?” He would have added that the kiss had just been an act for the nosy neighbors, but he didn’t want to make that hurt look pass across her face again. And besides, it would have been a lie.

Damn. It would have been a lie. He’d kissed her because he’d been looking for an excuse to do so. The notion staggered him. He hadn’t kissed a woman in five years. And it felt disloyal of him to do it now.

“C’mon. I’ve already got a shopping list started.”

She dragged him around the house, for all the world acting like an enthusiastic bride with no sense of how much work she was proposing to take on with the various projects she had in mind. They’d be busy for weeks renovating this stupid house at the rate she was going. He didn’t even want to contemplate what it was going to cost him emotionally to get through this. It was a job. Just a job. And somehow he suspected he’d be repeating that to himself more times than he cared to count in the days to come.

“How about we start a little smaller and see how things go?” he finally wedged in between bursts of ideas from her.

“Party pooper,” she announced.

“Who’s paying for all of this, anyway?”

“Jeff Winston. He gave me an expense account.”

“Yes, but let’s not bankrupt the guy.”

She laughed. “In the first place, we could renovate the state of West Virginia and not bankrupt Jeff. And in the second, if we do a great job on the place, our lease includes an option to buy. Jeff can buy it and sell it for a profit.”

“Not in this housing market,” he snorted.

“You’re too practical for your own good,” she declared. “You need to loosen up.”

He’d heard that before. But for the past few years, he hadn’t cared. From her, though, it stung a little.

As they pulled into the parking lot of a home-improvement store a little while later, though, he had to admit her enthusiasm was contagious.

She exclaimed, “This place is so cool! It’s a time warp, I’m tellin’ ya.”

He gazed around the parking lot, populated entirely with vintage cars. Frankly, he found it a little creepy. “Come on, June,” he grumbled.