Stealing Kisses. Harmony Evans
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late for a client meeting or anything else for that matter.
She gulped in a breath. “I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”
He crossed his arms on his knees, a slight smile upon his lips. “That depends on the excuse.”
She hesitated. The “I got caught in traffic” line wouldn’t fly, especially since she was supposed to be a pro at managing time. But she couldn’t tell him the entire truth, either.
How she’d tossed and turned all night, remembering the feel of his massive body brushing against hers during their playful game of one-on-one. The sensual instant replay had eventually lulled her to sleep.
Yet when she’d woken up, bleary-eyed and aroused, she’d almost called Derek’s manager to tell him to find someone else. All because of a six-letter word that starts with D and ends with heartbreak:
Desire.
Muscles, hard and lean, twisted out of his sleeves. His eyes caught her looking and his smile widened.
“Well?”
Her face heated again. Keep your mind on the mission, not on his body.
“I overslept,” she blurted. That was the truth, although she still couldn’t quite believe it herself. She never slept late, not even on holidays. There was nothing, or no one, to keep her in bed past 5:00 a.m.
Derek tossed the paper aside. “I’m not surprised.”
“Excuse me?” she said, trying not to sound offended.
He leaned back on one elbow. “Playing basketball in bare feet had to be tough.”
His eyes rambled over her shoulders, down her turquoise sundress and settled on her legs.
He whistled low. “But, girl, you’ve definitely got game.”
The exposed areas of her skin tingled as she stared at him with a mix of pleasure and astonishment.
Derek had every right to be angry, especially after her little speech about time management and organization. Yet he was clearly flirting with her.
Why?
More troubling was the fact that she enjoyed it—a dangerous way to feel. She decided it was best to ignore his comment, and her growing attraction to him.
“Nevertheless, it’s unacceptable and—”
“Unpredictable.” He cut her off and flashed a brilliant smile. “I like it.”
She choked back a laugh. As someone who alphabetized every spice and canned good in her kitchen, she was the least unpredictable person on the planet. It was just another indication that he wasn’t her type. Not that she cared, she reminded herself.
“Just do me a favor,” he continued. “The next time you’re going to be late, at least give me a call.”
He was right. “I’m sorry,” she admitted. “But I just assumed you’d be sleeping and that I’d have to get you out of bed when I got here.”
He chuckled and held up his hands. “Whoa, not on the first date!”
She blew out a breath and put her hands on her hips. “Mr. Lansing, this is not a date, and quite frankly, I don’t think I need to remind you why I’m here.”
Derek’s amused expression turned grim. “You’re right.”
He tucked the newspaper under his arm, stood and opened the door.
She stepped inside and he led her to a freight elevator that had a huge basketball with the number seventeen painted on it.
“A housewarming gift from my neighbor,” he said, punching in a code. His voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. “He’s an artist. I guess he thought I’d forget my own number.”
She stifled a laugh as the doors opened with a monstrous squeal. After they were both inside, Derek slid the heavy metal gate closed with ease.
The elevator began its slow, creaky ascent. Silence stretched between them. Yet something crackled, too.
Neither understood nor acknowledged it, but it was still there, manifested in the way he leaned against the wall, inviting her eyes to take in the length of his legs and her hands to take hold of the brute strength she knew lay beneath the loose-fitting navy-blue athletic pants. It dared her nose to inhale deeply the hint of spicy cologne in the air, knowing it would make her hunger even more for the man who wore it.
Time stood still. Suspended by that delicious bubble of heat neither hoped would break.
Suddenly the elevator lurched to a stop and Natalie lost her balance. She grabbed hold of Derek’s outstretched hand and he pulled her into his arms where she landed with her cheek nestled against the tight fabric of his T-shirt. In his tight embrace, her heart flipped so loudly in her chest she was sure he could hear and feel it.
“This elevator has a mind of its own,” he explained. “I should have warned you. Are you okay?”
She looked up, touched by the concern in his gray eyes. “Yes, I’m just a little startled, that’s all.”
He nodded. “Still, it needs to be fixed.” His full lips parted into a warm smile. “But today I’m kind of glad it wasn’t.”
Was it her imagination or did his embrace get even tighter?
He seemed to be waiting for her to respond and she wanted to say, “Me, too,” but she remained silent. Yet there was no mistaking the rush of disappointment she felt when he released her and pulled open the gate.
He bowed slightly and Natalie giggled. “Come on in. I’ll make it up to you with a cup of my famous café au lait.”
“Ooh-la-la,” she joked, her footsteps echoing on the shiny hardwood floor as she followed him.
His converted warehouse apartment was immense. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned one side of the room, bathing it in gorgeous sunlight. The furniture consisted of a huge flat-screen television, a large leather sectional, a couple of end tables and some modern lamps that, due to all the natural light, probably only got used at night or on rainy days.
Derek tossed the paper onto the sparkling granite countertop and pulled out a high-backed chair.
“Have a seat.”
She slipped her purse strap around the back. “Thanks.” Derek remained by her side until she was seated, which she thought was a nice gesture. Yet, when he moved to the other side of the counter, she was oddly relieved. Being in his arms those few minutes had spurned a mini whirlpool of desire within her and she knew that she couldn’t do anything about it.
She watched him prepare the coffee to distract herself. As he poured the milk into the steamer, his movements were unhurried, graceful, and she began to relax.
It was almost as though he was taking care of her because he felt a need to, rather than simply being hospitable. The feeling was comfortable and she leaned back and exhaled lightly, wondering what it would be like to sit here with him every morning, watching him making coffee, after a night of lovemaking.
His eye caught hers and he winked. It was almost as if he could read her mind and a blush spread over her cheeks.
Natalie glanced around. “Your apartment is nice.” She hesitated. “Did you just move in?”
Derek shook his head, his voice slightly raised over the sounds of the coffee machine. “No, I’ve been living here since I signed with the Skylarks three years ago.”
He poured two mugs of coffee, then topped both off with the steamed milk. When he set one mug down, her nostrils twitched as she lightly inhaled the rich aroma.
“With all the traveling we do during the season,” Derek continued, “I’m just not around that much.”
His shoulders rolled back, as if he was trying