Any Man Of Mine: A Waiting Game / A Loving Arrangement

“Now, James?” she prodded, breathless.

He opened his mouth to speak just as the soft purr of an approaching engine broke into the silence between them.

Keena turned her head in time to see Nicholas bring the white Rolls to a gentle stop and get out, carrying a big leather suitcase in one hand and an attaché case in the other. He was dressed in an expensive tweed suit that flattered his massive physique, emphasizing his broad chest, flat stomach and powerful, muscular legs. He not only looked rich, he also looked imposing. His eyes punctuated the threat in the graceful way he moved, the way he looked at James, the way a hunter might glance toward a kitten on his way to shoot bear.

“I hope you’ve got a room ready,” Nicholas told Keena without breaking stride, “I’m in a hell of a tangle with my London office.”

She stared after him, her mouth slightly open.

“Who’s he?” James asked coolly.

Keena looked up at him helplessly. For one wild second she wondered if he might believe Nicholas was her insurance agent. But with a sigh, a shrug and an apologetic smile, she dismissed the thought.

“Nicholas,” she replied instead. “Uh, I’ve got to go, James, but do ring me later on.”

“Oh...of course,” he stammered. It was the first time Keena had ever seen him at a loss for words, as if he couldn’t believe any woman would willingly part with his company.

She turned and walked quickly up the steps with blood in her eyes. Now what was Nicholas up to? And where did he plan to stay?

She caught up with him at the foot of the staircase, oblivious to the stares of the two fascinated painters on ladders in the hall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“To my room,” he said impatiently.

“You don’t have one,” she pointed out.

“Yet,” he admitted, taking another step.

“This is my house,” she told him, her voice rising shrilly. “You can’t just move in like this, without even asking!”

“Think you can stop me?” he asked politely, gazing at her with that level, devastating stare that made her want to back away slowly.

“I’m not alone and defenseless,” she reminded him, turning to the nearest painter, a rugged-looking individual about Nicholas’s age.

“That’s right, lady,” the painter agreed, pausing with his brush raised to give Nicholas his best threatening look.

Nicholas lifted his hard, broad face and stared up at the man unblinkingly. “I hope your insurance is current,” he remarked politely.

The painter turned back to his work and began painting with a vengeance. “Like I said, lady, I’d give the poor tired man a room,” he murmured sheepishly.

Keena glared at him before she transferred her irritated stare to the other painter, who pulled his cap low over his eyes and began to whistle softly.

Nicholas grinned at her before he turned and started up the staircase again.

She followed along behind him, her temper exploding like silent fireworks inside her taut body, watching helplessly while he peeked into the first room he came to, then the second, before he finally settled on the third. It was, as he had guessed, unoccupied, with bed linen neatly piled at the foot of the large, four-poster bed.

“This will do,” he murmured, glaring around him at the antique furniture. He set the suitcase down and went to the window. “Nice view. Does it have a bathroom?”

“In between this bedroom and the other one,” Keena said. “But that needn’t concern you. You aren’t staying.”

He turned around and let his eyes roam over her taut figure. “God, you’re pretty when you want to bite. Come over here and put up your fists, you little firecracker,” he taunted in a deep, velvety voice.

“What are you doing here?” she challenged, feeling the ground slowly being cut from under her feet.

He shrugged. “What does it look like? I’m moving in.”

“For how long?” she demanded fiercely.

“For as long as it takes to bring you to your senses,” he replied calmly. His dark eyes searched her flushed face. “You can’t go back, honey,” he added quietly. “I won’t let you.”

Her color deepened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” He moved forward, one corner of his firm, chiseled mouth going up as he noticed her involuntary step backward. “Don’t panic. I’m not going to throw you on the bed. Not now, anyway. I’ve got work to do. Is there a study?”

“Downstairs,” she managed through her fury. “But it’s full of painters.”

“So is the rest of the house. Are they leaving, or are you adopting them?”

“They’ll be gone tomorrow,” she replied. “Nicholas, you can’t stay here,” she added, trying to reason with him. “It’s a small town. People will go wild gossiping. They’ll think you’re my lover!”

“They might be right,” he said, moving forward again. “Come here.”

“Nicholas!” She backed right up to the closed door.

He trapped her there with his big arms on either side of her head, his eyes dancing with devilish amusement, the shimmering depths secretive, mysterious. “Shy?” he murmured. “You were flirting with Harris for all you were worth. Why not try it with me?”

“Because I don’t want to be fitted with a straitjacket, and how did you know it was James?” she asked nervously. The deliciously expensive scent of his cologne settled around her like a sensuous mist, and she tried not to be so aware of the size and strength of his body, the heat of it warming her in the faint chill of the room.

“I recognized the sickening adoration in your eyes, little fox,” he murmured. His dark eyes pinned hers. “You may think you can pick up where you left off all those years ago, but you’re going to find that it’s not possible.”

“It’s my life, Nicholas,” she reminded him.

“So it is,” he agreed. “But I’m not going to let that anemic snob cut you up a second time.”

She tried to get closer to the door, but the cold wood wouldn’t give under her shoulder blades.

“I do appreciate the thought,” she said. “But how are you going to spare the time?” She didn’t like the look in his eyes. It was frankly predatory. “As you’re so fond of telling me, you’re a busy man.”

His eyes glittered with amusement. “All work and no play...” he murmured, bending.

She watched his face come closer with a nervous sense of inevitability. No wonder he’d gotten so far in business, she thought dimly as his mouth brushed lightly against her forehead. He was unstoppable, like a runaway locomotive.

“You’ll go through that door in a minute,” he murmured lazily. “Why don’t you move toward me instead?”

“You’re making me nervous,” she choked. Her lovely eyes had a faintly haunted look; her black hair was brushed with fiery lights in the glare of the window.

“Is that what it is?” he murmured. He moved, holding her eyes while he eased the full weight of his flat stomach and powerful thighs down against her as he guided her slender body down on the bed. She felt the warm, heavy crush with a sense of awe. She’d never been so close to him before, felt so overwhelmed by him. The kiss they’d shared in the Rolls, as ardent as it was, couldn’t compare with the sensations this was causing. She’d never dreamed that she could drown in her awareness like this.