Heartbreakers: Treat Her Right / Mr November

“I wasn’t born an oaf, you know.”

For the briefest moment Zack wondered if he’d hurt her feelings, then decided the massage must have softened his brain as well as his muscles. Wynn wasn’t the type of woman who indulged fragile feelings.

On the tail of that realization came another, more startling one. Good God, was there a chance his daughter would grow up to be like Wynn? Wrestling in her yard, argumentative and loud and far too bold? The very idea made him shudder. He had to find a wife, a nice delicate feminine wife who adored Dani and could, with patience and a calm quiet demeanor, guide her into being a young lady.

“If you work fifty hours,” Wynn said, breaking into his thoughts, “I imagine some of those nights it’s pretty late when you get home.”

“True.”

“Do you bring Dani home?”

“Of course.” He started to look at her, but she stilled him by working a particularly achy knot in his right deltoid. Damn, but she had wonderful fingers. “I was blessed with a real slughead for a daughter,” he told her around a heartfelt groan. “It takes a lot to wake her before she’s ready to wake. I just bundle her up and bring her home and tuck her into her own bed.”

“If Eloise is in her seventies, how much longer do you think she can continue to baby-sit?”

“I’ve considered that,” he murmured, his reserve now as limp as his muscles. “I’m thinking of leaving fieldwork.”

“Yeah? To do what?” Her fingers found just the right amount of pressure, and he groaned low before he could work up the energy to answer. “Maybe be a supervisor,” he said, “or an operations manager. Or maybe I’ll instruct. I think I’d like that.”

Wynn made a sound of interest, and her hands moved lower, over his gluteus medius, then his gluteus maximus...

Damn, but her fingers were magic...marvelous...intimate!

Zack jerked around to face her. “You’re seducing me!”

She tried for an innocent expression and failed. “Naw, just copping a feel of your nice tight buns.”

He sputtered, both outraged and stupidly complimented, and, if he was honest, vaguely turned on. Okay, more than vaguely. He felt mellow and ready. Primed even.

She had the gall to laugh in his face, then pat his chest. “Relax, Zack, your virtue is safe with me. And you do feel better now, right?”

He flexed, rolled his shoulders in experimentation; she was right, damn her. He gave a reluctant nod.

“Good.” She patted him again, this time ending with a caress of his pecs. “If you tighten up again, come see me.”

He was tight already, just not where she meant.

“It probably wouldn’t hurt to use a little ultrasound on the affected muscles, and I can do that at the gym.”

“I’ll be fine,” he croaked.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re a regular superhero, aren’t you? Impervious to the needs of your body, both sexual and physical?”

Being pushy probably came naturally to her. She’d likely been born making demands and causing conflicts. “I’m trying to do what’s right for both of us and you know it. We’re neighbors. Anything beyond a friendly association would be too difficult.”

She gave a heavy sigh, saying, “Whatever,” and turned to leave.

“I hope you understand,” Zack called out, watching her as she walked into the light from her back porch. His body felt relaxed but zinging with life, too. An odd mix. A carnal mix.

She sent him an airy wave without looking back. A second later she went through the door and it closed with a click that echoed around the empty yards.

Damn irritating woman.

He’d made the right decision, despite his still raging hard-on. But then why did he feel so pissed off with himself? Why did he hate the right decision?

An upstairs light came on in her house, and through an open window Zack heard her begin to whistle again. She was a woman without a care, while he still stood there in the yard churning with a riot of emotions and physical needs. He stared at her window hard, willing her to move into view, but then the light went out and he knew she had gone to bed.

From now on, he’d just have to be very careful to avoid her. Given his hours, that shouldn’t be too hard to do.

* * *

Wynn watched through her dark bedroom window as Zack tipped back his head and stared up at the moon. He looked so rigid, every line of his body denoting frustration, that she half expected him to howl, but all he did was turn on his heel and head back to his own house.

Her massage had been a waste, she could see that now; the man was determined to be tense. She sighed.

What a twist of fate, she thought, her heart sinking a little at the sight of his retreating back. Her hands were still tingling from touching him, from feeling all those smooth hard muscles and hot skin and vibrating tension. She huffed. The first man who really pushed her buttons, who made her feel like gelatin on the inside and made her breathe too fast just being near, and he was a blasted prude.

Her thought process crashed there and she was forced to face the possibility that he wasn’t a prude at all. A man as big and sexy and intelligent and responsible as Zack was more likely suffering disinterest than moral restrictions.

Why would he be interested in her?

She’d done nothing but make a fool of herself since meeting him, and her naturally forceful personality had been in rare, suffocating form. But he brought out the extremes in her, and half the time she didn’t even know what she was going to do until she did it.

She closed her eyes on a wave of remorse and embarrassment. God, she’d accosted him at every turn, provoked him and even rolled on the grass with him. She’d called him names and insulted him, and here she was, wishing he’d want her just a little?

Wynn shook her head. She was a complete and utter dolt.

She left the window and moved blindly toward the hall. She needed another shower—this one preferably ice-cold to chase away the lingering hunger. She knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight, not after feeling him atop her, not after inhaling his aroused scent.

She had to get herself together, and she had to give the man some space. Rushing him was not the best tactic. No, Zack was a subtle man, when he wasn’t challenging her. He was a father, and his sensitivity toward his daughter only made him more attractive. He was the hero Dani had described him as being, and by far the most appealing male Wynn had ever met.

Zack needed time to get used to her, to get to know her.

She’d ease her way in, she’d be charming and sweet and polite...because knocking down his defenses sure didn’t seem to be working.

SIX (#ulink_68ff2341-2db2-588e-91e8-171f9485e5da)

ZACK SAW HER every damn day. He woke up in the morning and she was outside working in the yard or cleaning her driveway or chatting with the other neighbors.

He got home from work and she’d just be coming in or going out.

He ran into her at the grocery store and once while they were both taking out their garbage. Dani chatted her up every time, like she was a long-lost and valuable friend. And Wynn was forever sweet and attentive—to Dani.

It irked him, especially since she lounged in that hammock every damn night. Before bed, he’d find himself standing at his window, watching for her like a lost soul. And sure enough, she’d come traipsing out, her long legs bare and her stride sure to the point of being almost mannish. Not that anyone would ever mistake Wynn Lane for a man. She was too curvy, too soft and...she smelled too good to be male.

His whole body would go taut watching her as she relaxed back in that hammock and stretched out the length of her sexy body. Damn if he didn’t get aroused every time.

Sometimes she read until the sun went down. Sometimes she just swayed, music feeding into her ears through a set of headphones. She sometimes dozed and she sometimes whistled, but not once had she fallen into a sound sleep again.