Rules Of Engagement. Jamie Denton
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opened the door for her and she set her briefcase on the floorboard. “It’s better than the alternative,” she said, gauging the height of the truck in comparison to her short, teal silk skirt. “I didn’t see a pay phone for the last two blocks.”
She frowned, wondering how she was going to climb inside the four-wheel drive. She turned and braced her hands on the seat, prepared to lift herself backward into the truck.
Morgan stepped forward and placed his hands on her hips. She sucked in a sharp breath. The feel of his large hands gripping her hips set off dozens of sensual images. She looked up into his eyes and her breath caught. The hint of desire swirling in the depth of his gaze sent her feminine senses into an uproar.
He moved closer, trapping her between the thick wall of his chest and the interior of his four-wheel drive. Heat surrounded her from head to toe, but not the kind caused by the warmth of the sun. This kind of heat had nothing to do with weather, and everything to do with sex.
As if she weighed no more than one of the sheets of drywall he probably tossed around on a daily basis, he gently lifted her into the truck. She couldn’t move. She sat with her feet dangling out the open door, unable to tear her gaze from his, shocked by the strength of her physical reaction and a conscious need to kiss him. One of those deep, tongue-tangling kisses that would have her heart pounding like the thunder of a summer storm.
“Thank you, Jill,” he said, a lopsided grin on the lips she couldn’t seem to stop fantasizing about. “For everything you’ve done today.”
What was he thanking her for? she wondered. She hadn’t even kissed him yet.
He stepped back to close the door. Realization dawned, bringing with it a wave of embarrassment. “Uh, no problem,” she said, shifting in the seat, hoping the heat infusing her body was from the warmth of the sun and not because she was turning a very unattractive shade of scarlet.
He closed the door and walked around the front of the truck to climb inside. She slipped her sunglasses from her purse, trying to decide which was the lesser of two evils: confessing the truth to her family that she was still painfully single, or spending time with a man who had her thinking sins of the flesh weren’t quite the sacrilege her father preached to his daughters.
MORGAN HEFTED the last sheet of drywall onto the bed of the delivery truck. He’d been hiding out in the small warehouse for the past couple of hours in the futile hope that some distance from Jill would draw his mind away from her sweet, sultry smile.
Not a chance.
He’d hoped the physical labor would distract him from the need clawing his gut whenever she flashed those baby blues his way.
Impossible.
“No way,” he grumbled, especially since he couldn’t stop wondering if she’d taste as sweet as he’d been imagining all afternoon.
“She’s a career woman,” he complained, then headed into the humidity of the warehouse for some rope. “That means look, but don’t touch.”
What had he been thinking? he mused, kicking aside a box filled with drywall screws. Inviting her to spend the afternoon at his office had to qualify as one of his less-than-brilliant ideas.
Her perfume had distracted him.
The soft rasp from the slide of her nylons as she shifted in the chair had ignited his imagination.
The sound of her fingertips gently tapping the keyboard of her laptop computer had him staring at her hands and thinking all sorts of illicit thoughts.
He’d been chased out of his own suddenly cramped office, self-condemned to the heat of the afternoon because avoiding Jill was preferable to the erotic fantasies that kept erupting every time he looked at her, heard her or caught a whiff of her heavenly scent.
The woman and her hundred-watt smile were more trouble than a by-the-book city inspector. The last thing he needed was trouble, especially the kind Jill Cassidy, Attorney-at-Law, represented. She was the last woman on earth he should want to get involved with, but damned if he didn’t find her just a little too fascinating and sensual.
He located a bundle of rope and headed back into the brutal sunshine. What was it about her that got to him? he wondered, slapping the rope over the drywall to secure the load to the truck bed. He hardly knew her, but he had a feeling he’d probably figure out how to consistently pick the winning lottery numbers before he had an answer to that question. All he had to do was gaze into those expressive eyes and he was a goner.
Chump that he’d become in the past twenty-four hours, he’d done a whole lot of gazing over lunch waiting for the tow truck to arrive.
The back door leading to the offices creaked. He didn’t have to look up to know it was Jill. Awareness crackled around him like a live wire as the heels of her black pumps clicked over the concrete floor and onto the blacktop of the alley.
“The tire shop just phoned to tell me my car’s ready,” she called out. “I was going to get a cab but your secretary said you weren’t busy.”
“I’ll be done in a minute,” he answered, making a shipper’s knot and tugging hard on the rope. He crouched to loop the rope around the tie-down and froze. The staunch reminder that career women were off-limits faded into the background at the sight of Jill’s shapely legs. Legs he wanted to touch, to slide his hands over, to feel wrapped around…
He muttered a muffled curse and tugged on the rope.
“Good grief, it’s hot,” she said. She moved and he watched with fascination as those legs slowly came around to his side of the delivery truck. “Is it always like this in the valley?”
She crouched beside him and peered beneath the flatbed. The delicate floral of her perfume wafted over him, and his hands stilled as he imagined the daring places she may have dabbed the intoxicating scent. The weather wasn’t the only thing heating up—his temperature was skyrocketing.
He turned to look at her. “Not always,” he said, deciding it was all her fault. If her eyes didn’t sparkle when she cast him one of those sultry smiles, then maybe the rush of need and a deep-in-his-bones desire to kiss her wouldn’t be so overwhelming.
He straightened and tossed the rope over the top of the truck to finish tying off the load. There was no way he would be able to spend five days alone with her without kissing her. They were supposed to be engaged. They would be expected to kiss, to touch, to—No, he wouldn’t go there.
Maybe he should just kiss her and get it out of the way now.
Yeah, that’s it, he thought, picking up the rope and making another knot in the line. Just kiss her, solve the mystery and then she’d be out of his system.
He hoped.
Tossing the rope over the truck again, he circled the back and stopped in front of her. She looked up and smiled, causing his heart to beat heavily in his chest. He stared at her, not sure what to say, and her honey-gold eyebrows puckered into a frown.
“Did you want something?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
“I have to taste you,” he admitted, planting his hands on his hips.
The frown smoothed and her eyes darkened to midnight. He’d been afraid something like this would happen. The chemistry between them had been evident from the moment he first laid eyes on her. That churning-in-his-gut feeling was back—a loud and clear warning that his short-circuiting brain wouldn’t heed.
She wanted him to kiss her.
Her gaze slipped over him, slowly running down the length of his body. He felt her eyes like a physical caress, all too real and way too tempting.
“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing,” she said, a smile easing across her peach-tinted lips.
“It is,” he said, narrowing the space between them. “It’s real bad.”
“Bad