Hold Me Tight. Cait London
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had felt what ran between them and had met the problem immediately. No flirtation, no games, just facts. Alexi smiled; Mrs. Sterling was getting more interesting all the time. “No. But it has been a long time for me, and you are here, very close, in my home.”
“You should take care of your problem—somehow, before talking with Willow.” The order came soft and guarded, and she turned away suddenly, but not before he caught the flush moving up her cheeks, the downward shy look, avoiding his.
“Did the man who called you…was he the one who hurt you?”
Her defenses shot up, those green eyes flashing. Magnificent, Alexi thought, fierce, proud, loyal, protective, passionate in her anger. Her veneer had been breached and the woman beneath it fascinated him.
“We’re negotiating a business deal here, Stepanov. There is no reason to get into my personal profile, other than—please do not go to Willow in that…that condition.”
Now Alexi was amused, enjoying playing with her, teasing her even more. All the little colorful pieces inside her seemed to shift, presenting the woman he wanted to know better, and one she wanted to hide.
“It happens,” he said, diving straight for the woman beneath that polished surface. “You’re a woman. I’m a man. I can sense an excitement in you, a scent. It triggers a natural response…. Willow seems like an understanding, helpful woman,” he added, just to stir Jessica once more.
“Willow is wonderful and an innocent. Just do what men do to relieve whatever—”
“And just what do men do?”
She waved her hand airily and the emeralds on it sparkled, reminding him that she had been married—married, and still shy of a man in close quarters. “You know. Whatever men do. Get a magazine or watch a movie—or find some woman—but not Willow.”
“Don’t you think that Willow would want to choose for herself what she wants?”
“No. Not in this instance,” she stated curtly.
He had to come closer, to catch every nuance of her expression. “Why not me? What is wrong with me?”
She bit her lip and studied the overlong socks on her feet. “Well,” she stated briskly as her toes wiggled within the socks. “You’re potent. And I suppose if you tried, you could charm the pants off Willow in a very short time. She’s just not up to you. You have the advantage, and that just isn’t fair, is it?”
Jessica knew how to speak clearly to men, defining just what she wanted, defining the rules.
Alexi had never been good at following rules.
“And you are? Up to me?” He wondered what those pale, slender feet would feel like against his own, rubbing her insole up and down his calf while he buried himself in her—
She frowned fiercely up at him and laid out the facts like bullets shooting at him. “I’m wealthy and single. Men want me. They don’t get me. You may be a sex magnet, but don’t you dare play with Willow.”
He’d found the live heat she hid inside that veneer and went for it again. “It is possible that she might not be able to resist me. After all, you have said that I am potent, have you not? What is this ‘potent’? As a man? As a conversationalist? How do you define—”
Jessica stood; her hand lifted and her finger tapped his bare chest with each word. “Leave Willow alone—that way.”
Alexi didn’t miss the light sweep of her hand across his chest to his shoulder, that little tremble before it lifted. He wanted her hands on him—everywhere. Without the brand of another man’s ring.
To keep himself from reaching for her, Alexi stepped back and crouched to feed the stove with wood and carefully bank it for the hours that remained until morning.
His hands needed to be busy, because they ached to touch this woman, to claim her. He closed the door as firmly as he wanted his sensual interest in this woman to die. “We have talked enough,” he stated, recognizing his accent in the husky words. “Please make yourself comfortable in my home. Or you may leave, though I advise against it. Morning will be here in a few hours. I will speak to Willow tomorrow. Then I will give my decision to you.”
Jessica watched Alexi yawn and stretch, and his hands went to his jeans’ snap. His eyebrows lifted, his eyes silvery beneath his heavy lashes. “You may turn away or you may watch.”
She turned quickly, heat moving up her throat. She never blushed, and yet Alexi drew something from her—“I’m leaving.”
His body pressed lightly against her back and then his cheek was against hers. He nuzzled aside her hair and whispered in her ear, “If you do, I shall have to follow you in the cold, making certain that you are safe. Here, we are warm and safe…. You have just trembled. Why are you nervous of me? Because I have been obviously aroused?”
“I don’t know why, but you like to torment me, Mr. Stepanov.”
“Of course. Because you are so delightful to watch. All that fire leaps to life so easily.” His smile curved along her cheek. “You are hot now. I think you are blushing. I like that—that you react to me. Do you think it’s true? That women think of me as a sex magnet?”
“Jerk.”
Jessica hadn’t been teased in her lifetime, and Alexi Stepanov was unrelenting. A moment later he said, “My jeans are off and I’m in my bed. You may turn around now.”
“Jerk,” she repeated as she walked toward the window to study the storm outside and a slash of sleet hit the glass. Jessica weighed that half-mile back to the resort and the longer walk to Willow’s shop and apartment. But then how could Jessica explain to Willow why she was out walking at three o’clock in the morning?
Jessica turned back to Alexi, whose bare back above the blankets—those warm, heavy blankets—was turned to her. His skin gleamed, covering a wide expanse of muscles.
With a sigh loud enough for him to hear, she pushed and shoved the heavy lawn chair closer to the stove. She settled into the chair and briskly wrapped the softly woven gray-green throw over her. She breathed Alexi’s scent—masculine, soap, smoke, and dark with layers. First came arrogance, a man who liked control and setting his terms. Then, he’d obviously been wounded in the past, his pride showing when his ex-fiancée was mentioned. Protective? Too much for an independent woman, especially when he took away the cell phone, dismissing Howard.
Alexi liked to torment her. Why? Definitely sensual, he’d picked up on her awareness of him—who wouldn’t be aware of a man like that, all of six foot three and in lean, perfect condition, almost animalistic grace? Snuggling down into the soft crocheted throw, Jessica brooded about the man who was apparently asleep and very comfortable.
Jessica shifted on the chair and pulled the throw up to her chin. “‘Body warmth,”’ she muttered. Alexi had wanted to hold her against him, gauge her, study her. He’d promptly dismissed any courtesy between them.
She glanced at him and let the warmth of the fire sink into her flesh. Alexi was determined to make her play his game. Jessica preferred to play her own.
She threw back the throw and came to her feet. She crossed the length of the room quickly and jabbed a finger against his shoulder. He grunted and Jessica tapped his shoulder. “Hey. Wake up. I’m not done talking to you.”
“I need sleep,” Alexi said drowsily. “You are a pest, I think.”
“I can be your nightmare, bud—”
Alexi moved too quickly, grabbing her wrist and holding it as he turned. He scowled at her. “You can sleep tomorrow. I work. I wouldn’t advise you to irritate me more, not if you want me to help Willow.”
“I said I’d pay you.”
“With you, everything comes with a bill, right? Money solves everything?”
“It