Driven to Temptation (4 page)

Chapter Six

Delaney stood off to the side and watched as Aidan loosened his belt from Fifi’s collar. The splotchy redness on his hands and neck seemed to be spreading, but while he’d been in obvious discomfort on their way to the dog park, he seemed to have momentarily forgotten it.

Probably because of the young blonde teetering on her high heels beside him.

“I don’t know how I could thank you enough.” Blondie reached out a hand to touch Aidan’s arm. “One minute I’m at the office preparing legal briefs for a tough case, and the next, my mama’s calling because Fifi’s escaped.” She trilled out a laugh.

He fidgeted and rubbed the side of his face. “Actually,” he said as he straightened, belt in hand, “it was Delaney’s idea to stop and help.”

“Is that right?” The blonde’s smile stiffened as she turned her attention to Delaney, flickered her gaze up and down, then flashed a smile at Aidan again. “Well, thank you
both.
”

How nice of him to give her credit when her generosity was what got him into this predicament in the first place. She felt like a heel, but at least Fifi was safe. “No thanks necessary. I’d want someone to help my dog if she needed it,” Delaney said.

“Well, I can’t tell you how much Fifi means to my mama,” the blonde said. “They’re practically inseparable, the two of them. If you want to wait a little bit, she should be here any minute now.” She batted her eyelashes at Aidan.

Give me a break.
Two minutes after meeting and she already wanted to introduce him to her mother?

He swiped at his chin a few times, and Blondie caught the movement, too. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He shrugged. “Just allergic to dogs.”

“You are?” Blondie’s eyes widened. “And yet you saved Fifi. You’re a hero!”

Really?
Delaney bit her lip to keep the huff of indignation to herself.

“Now that you mention it, you
are
looking a little itchy. Do you need anything? Some Benadryl, maybe? I’ve got some in my office if you want to come back with me.”

“No, that’s okay. I’ve got a prescription in my truck.” Aidan looked at his watch, surreptitiously scratching at a bright red patch of skin in the process. “We’re on a tight schedule, so we have to go.”

Blondie managed a brave smile. “Ummm…okay.” She fished out a card from her jacket pocket. “Please feel free to call me,” she said, pressing the card into his hand. “Whenever.”

This time Delaney didn’t bother to hide her eye roll.

…

Delaney slammed the passenger door shut and stared at him through the space between the front seats to where he stood. “Amazing. Your face is all blotchy, and yet you still managed to get that girl’s number.”

“Very funny.” The last thing he needed was her snarky tone. His eyes itched, his chest felt tight, and his nose was runny. Maybe his lungs
would
close up.

He pulled out the duffel bag he’d stored behind the driver’s seat and rummaged through it, looking for his medicine.

“Ohmigod. Are you crying?”

He huffed out a breath, pulling out the package of antihistamines he always carried in his overnight bag. Dare he take a couple? Granted, it’d been a while since he’d had to, particularly because he’d been pretty careful not to be around dogs, but Fifi had really done a number on him. Popping these meant he wouldn’t be able to drive, though, and they were already on a tight schedule.

He cursed and tossed the package back into his overnight bag, then unbuttoned his shirt. Maybe getting the dander off of him would slow down the reaction.

“Aidan?”

“Yeah?”

“Now what are you doing?”

“Taking my shirt off.”
Want to help?
He rolled the shirt into a ball and placed it on the floorboard. “There’s dog hair all over it.” If he wore it much longer, he’d definitely have to take the pills, and that wasn’t an option. At least his undershirt was clean. He zipped up the duffel and stowed it back behind the seat.

“Oh,” she said as he got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. Then her eyes widened. “Ummm… You’re really breaking out, you know.”

“It’s not that bad,” he insisted, scratching just below his chin with one hand, and his shoulder with the other.

“Aidan.” She pointed at the rearview mirror. “Take a look at your face and then tell me you believe it isn’t bad.”

He leaned forward just enough to catch his image. The slightly rounded, splotchy, red one that stared back sure as hell looked like his. You know, if he was dying. He groaned.

“Where’s your medicine?”

“If I take it, I can’t drive. It makes me too drowsy.”

“Your point?” she asked, pinning him with a look that clearly told him she thought he was nuts. “I can drive. And I promise not to put a scratch on your precious truck.”

She just had to say “scratch.” “No way.” The itching intensified, and he pulled at the collar of his shirt so he could reach what felt like an army of ants crawling across his collarbone. “No one drives my truck but me.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms underneath her breasts, the movement so damned sexy he could barely stop himself from saying it out loud. “If that’s how you want it, we’ll stay here until you’re ready to drive again. When Joseph, one of my older brothers, takes an antihistamine for his allergies, he’s out for an hour or so.”

He glanced at the dashboard clock. They couldn’t afford to wait an hour. Not if they were going to make it to Seattle in time to pick up the projector he’d leased before the place closed.

Were there elephants sitting on his chest? His breathing rattled alarmingly.

“You’re wheezing. For Pete’s sake, Aidan, be reasonable.” Her tone was as firm as the look she shot him. “I’m still not convinced you’re going to live, but if you do, do you really want to show up in Seattle looking like the puffed out, wheezing, blotchy-skinned CEO of Ross and Associates? Is that the way you want to represent your company?”

She had a point. On both accounts. He scratched his chin, chased the itch around it until he cornered it behind his left ear.

“Take the antihistamines. Now.” She reached for her door handle and pulled it open. “And get out of the way, because I’m driving.”

Holy shit.
He was so screwed.

Aidan bolted into a sitting position. At least, as close to a sitting position as he could get with the truck’s seat belt tightening across his body. “What the hell?”

Confusion flooded his brain, then quickly drained away as he loosened the seat belt and sat up and looked around, trying to get his bearings.

The truck was parked in a rest area.

He was alone.

Delaney wasn’t anywhere in sight, which meant she was likely in the ladies’ room.
Surprise, surprise.

Aidan dragged himself past the antihistamine-induced drowsiness that threatened to claim him once again and forced himself to sit upright. He grabbed for the door handle. The fresh air would help, right along with the examination he’d make of his truck. He could fight the urge to continue the nap, but there was no way he could fight the need to know she hadn’t put a scratch on his ride.

By the time she appeared a few minutes later, he’d scoured every square inch. Not a scratch. Just as she’d promised.

“Hey.” She grinned. “The swelling’s down, and you don’t look red anymore. You’re obviously feeling better.”

He frowned at her and tried to clear the rest of the cobwebs from his brain. “We have to get going. Make up for some lost time.”

He climbed into the truck, and once in the driver’s seat, he turned, and a hand smacked him in the face. “Hey.”

“Sorry.” Delaney turned away from him as she shrugged out of her jacket. She laughed when she couldn’t free her arms. “I probably should have done this outside. Now I’m stuck.”

She was stuck, all right. Stuck with her chest thrust out, the thin fabric of her lace top barely covering her full breasts.

Damn.

She looked like she was trying to shrug the jacket back on, but it didn’t budge much from where it’d lodged on her arms. “Ummm… Do you mind giving me a hand?”

The smart-ass in him wanted to clap his hands together. The guy in him wanted to strip the offending jacket off of her and explore the curves and valleys of her breasts before teasing her nipples. Neither seemed like a good idea.

“On or off?” He reached a hand across the cab of the truck that somehow seemed to have shrunk in size and taken the supply of oxygen with it.

“Off.” Her voice sounded scratchy, throaty, like she was parched or something.

His gaze captured hers, and her lips parted. For one long heartbeat, they simply stared.

He should look away, break this weird connection that seemed to tighten its hold around them. He should, but damned if he could. “Off,” he repeated instead, his gaze searching hers. “With pleasure.”

He caught the curious half smile on her face before she turned slightly, allowing him to pull the jacket down. His hands lightly grazed her bare arms, and he felt, rather than heard, her gasp.

An answering tremor shot through him. He focused his attention on Delaney’s nearly bare shoulders, on the thin straps holding her top in place. It wouldn’t take much to move them out of the way. Maybe kiss a trail down the side of her neck, too.

Aidan inhaled deeply. He needed the extra oxygen to help clear his hormone-flooded brain. The one that was so obviously awake now.

There was a logical process to get what he wanted. He’d known that since he was twelve. Planning was a huge part of that process. Trouble was, right now, slowly peeling the jacket down her arms, he wasn’t sure
what
he wanted.

Not. Good. At. All.

He glanced at her profile. Almost on cue, she licked her lower lip. He’d never envied anyone else’s body part before. “Do you want it in the backseat?” he asked as she freed her hands.

Eyes wide, she turned to face him, and damned if he didn’t notice her hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of her top. “Excuse me?”

“Your jacket.” He held it out to her. “Do you want it in the backseat or with you?”

Her face turned a deep shade of pink. “Back is fine.” Confusion in her eyes warred with a deeper, more primal emotion, one Aidan had seen countless times on other women. Only now, he wasn’t sure what the hell to do about it.

“I’m glad I decided to wear a cami and not anything heavier.” She laughed and fanned herself with one hand.

So was he.

As far as plans went, today was shot to hell. He hadn’t planned on her, and he was having a hell of a hard time staying focused. Even now there was something about her that was more intoxicating than a couple shots of bourbon on an empty stomach.

He scrubbed a hand over his chin, cleared his throat, and blew out a hard breath.

They were late. Off schedule. He hated being off schedule, yet his brain seemed centered on the woman beside him. Specifically, what he’d like to do with her.

The sound of a crinkling bag followed by a crunching sound pulled him back to the moment.

Reality check number one: they’d barely left Milestone. Number two: at this rate they wouldn’t make Seattle by midafternoon.

Number three: Delaney worked for him.

There. That should be enough to douse whatever the hell was going on in his pants.

Determination fueled his movements as he fastened his seat belt and checked for oncoming traffic. “Let’s get going.”

Aidan turned in time to see her lick chemical-laden salt off the tips of her fingers. What would those sweet lips feel like wrapped around his shaft? Stroking and licking and…

Jesus.

Chapter Seven

It’d been more than half an hour since he’d taken over the driving again. A half an hour since Delaney had inadvertently awakened his southernmost brain with her innocent striptease. And while a hard-on was something he was normally proud of as long as he could put it to good use, the fact that he still sported one now was just a nuisance.

He’d been working too damned long and too damned hard the past few months. Months? Had it been months since he’d gone on a date? There it was. He’d identified the problem. And that’s what he needed to change.
After
the conference. With someone other than his employee.

She shifted and crossed her legs, the edge of her skirt moving higher up her thigh. Not a lot was revealed, but the thought of what else might be under the navy fabric had his head taking off at full speed. Man-style.

He gritted his teeth.

Was there anything she did that
wouldn’t
make his dick grow hard? Yeah, there was. Talking. She didn’t seem to give a damn he was the boss. Frankly, it was refreshing.

“What made you sign on with Ross and Associates?”

“I like the idea of helping a smaller company make a name for itself in the industry.”

“You’re pretty confident for someone who’s still relatively new to the field.”

“I’ve lived and breathed engineering my whole life.” She reached into the bag for another chip. “My grandfather was an engineer, my dad’s an engineer, and so are my older brothers. I did internship programs with some of the largest contractors in the area before moving to Milestone. I kinda know a little bit about it.”

“Humble much?”

“Please. I don’t go around advertising myself, Aidan.” She bit into a chip. Hard. “Tell me, would you have questioned me if I were a guy?”

“Sorry.” He glanced her direction. “And for the record, yeah, I’d question any new, young employee’s confidence.” While he’d never question Harold’s hiring decision, that didn’t mean he couldn’t ask a few questions himself. This was his company they were talking about.

She studied him with an intensity he found strangely intriguing. A river of awareness seemed to stretch between them, inviting him to explore its depths.

Tempting. Definitely tempting.

If only she didn’t work for him.

“Okay. I guess that makes sense.” Her shoulders slumped slightly, and some of the fight faded from her as she positioned herself so she partially leaned against the passenger side door. “You know why else I took this job?”

“Tell me.”

“You, Aidan Ross.” She pointed a corn chip in his direction. “You have a reputation for being one of the best geospatial engineers in the business. I figured Ross and Associates was the next logical step in my career.”

Yeah, he was good. He knew it. His stint in the army mapping out enemy terrain had kept men alive and earned him more than enough prestige. Transferring that skill to private industry was one of the best moves he’d ever made.

Delaney crushed the empty bag of corn chips into a ball and shoved it in her purse. Then she pulled out another one. The woman was an eating machine. “So that’s why I’m in Milestone, and why I’m working for you.” She ripped into the package. “What about you? Why’d you move your business from Portland? I’d think you’d have a better chance gaining clients there.”

Ah. She’d done her research well. Not too many people knew where he’d first started his business. But he’d give her the press release version.

“I like the outdoors too,” he said blandly.

He’d learned long ago that personal made a guy vulnerable. Since the time he was placed in his first foster home, he’d made it a point not to share more than he had to, and the experience was reinforced when he’d married Elizabeth.

Not that he’d been ill-treated or anything. On the contrary. His foster families took good care of him, were part of the reason he’d worked so hard to get through school, part of the reason he’d joined ROTC and made it through college. Without the army he’d have never been able to pay for college, wouldn’t have pursued geospatial engineering the way he’d wanted to since he was a teen. He was a high school junior when Harold, his foster mom’s brother, had first introduced the subject to him. The guy knew the business, had the contacts, but didn’t have the drive to run his own company the way Aidan had.

Yeah, Aidan had been determined to pull himself out of the hole he’d been in since his parents’ deaths made him a ward of the state when he was twelve. And he’d done a damned fine job of it.

He glanced ahead to check for oncoming traffic. None. Good. Accelerating the engine, he passed the camper that seemed to believe it was still in Spear Lake Junction and subjected to the town’s twenty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit. The truck’s engine growled with pleasure at the effort, almost like it’d been waiting for the opportunity.

Which half described him.

“What do you do? Ride? Hike? Raft?”

She wasn’t going to let it drop, was she? “A little of everything.”

Even though he kept his gaze on the road, Aidan felt her stare, almost like she was trying to figure him out as hard as
his
brain was working to figure
her
out. He held himself as still as possible, the comfortable pose so much a part of him since he’d first practiced it as a young boy.

Another thing Aidan had learned young was the art of staying still. Staying still meant not drawing attention to himself, and not drawing attention to himself meant he’d generally keep his foster parents happy so that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to move anymore.

“You ever hike Chinaman Hat?” Delaney’s voice busted through his thoughts, effectively scattering them.

“‘
Hike’s
’ a loose term,” he said drily. “‘
Scale
’ is more like it. I suppose you’ve been up that cliff a few times.”

She reached for her Gatorade bottle. “Actually,” she said, twisting off the cap, “I’ve never
hiked
it.” She took a huge gulp of the bluish liquid, and he half expected an unladylike burp from her after she swallowed. “I
have
made it onto the observation deck at the bottom of the hill. A lot.”

“Can’t make yourself start the climb, huh?” He wasn’t sure why, but there was a tiny sense of relief she hadn’t ever attempted the steep ascent.

“I just never found the need to.”

He threw her a sideways glance. “You’d drive more than a couple of hours from Milestone to stay at ground level? Why bother?”

She hesitated. He was sure that’s why she’d chosen that moment to shove more than a few corn chips in her mouth. But rather than push her, Aidan stayed silent. If she wanted to tell him, that was fine, but he wasn’t going to force an answer from her no matter how curious he was.

The crunching stopped a moment later. “It’s my thinking ground,” she said. “It’s quiet, and peaceful, and if there aren’t a lot of people around, like at this time of the year, you can almost hear your wish granted as it’s echoed into Chinaman Hat.”

There was a strange twist to her voice. Wistful, maybe?

In the short time he’d known Delaney, “wistful” wasn’t a word he’d have associated with her. Yet the way she’d said it was as though she believed the old legend of the ancient Chinese medicine man. “You think burning an offering in the fire pit will cause a hunk of rock to grant your deepest wish?”

“Why not?”

He frowned. She couldn’t be serious. “According to legend, he told his father he’d just as soon stay in Oregon as a rock if it meant he could be with some girl. Who does that?”

She sniffed. “Apparently, not you.”

That, he knew, was part of his problem. The ability to loosen the reins of his life, to just be chill enough to roll with whatever was tossed his way—that quality was nowhere near his DNA.

“Besides, it’s a legend, Aidan. It can’t be substantiated one way or the other. What’s so wrong with believing in it? Look.” She pointed ahead. “The turnoff’s right there. Want to stop? It won’t take very long.”

“No.”

She slumped against the seat. “Figured you’d say that.”

“So why’d you ask?”

“Because not asking the question would’ve been a definite
no
.” She uncapped the Gatorade bottle and swallowed another mouthful.

Self-assured…champion of lost dogs…and not afraid to ask for what she wanted.

She sighed, the sound soft and breathy and making him half hard for her. Again.

She uncrossed her legs and leaned toward him.

Every muscle in his body tensed, including the brain south of his waistband. “What the hell are you doing now?”

“Grabbing my jacket.” She reached back, and Aidan couldn’t keep his eyes from straying toward her chest and the tight nubs that teased him through the thin fabric of her cami.

Teased? Tormented was more like it.

“Cold? I could turn up the heat.”

“No. Got it,” she declared triumphantly, pulling the jacket to the front. “I hope I left my phone in it.”

Her phone? They were more than an hour from Spear Lake Junction and the great dog encounter.

She pulled the phone out. “Got it.”

He raised an eyebrow. He had a process for everything, including keeping track of stuff so it wasn’t lost. Apparently not a trait she possessed.

After neatly folding the jacket, she leaned toward him again. The top of her head brushed his shoulder, and he caught a whiff of her scent. Apples?

Aidan shifted in his seat as she faced forward and picked her purse up off the floorboard.

“Do you ever keep still?”

“Of course I do.” There was a trace of indignation in her voice as she rummaged through it. She pulled out a pad of paper and a pen…and immediately clicked it in time to some silent beat. A beat that somehow reached out to him…drew him closer…practically begged him to pull her into his arms and explore every sweet inch of her body.

Damn. It.

He gave himself a mental shake, then leaned forward and flicked on the radio. There had to be something on that would distract him. He stopped when a rift of classic Van Halen flooded the cab. There. That was better.

Before long Delaney dropped the pen in her lap and picked up her latest in a long line of so-called food. She crunched on a chip and offered him the bag. “You
sure
you don’t want one?”

“I don’t eat junk food, remember?” Well, not unless it was his Achilles’ heel: a special brand of barbecue potato chips. And even then he’d stare at it a good long time—days, even—before he’d bother to open the bag. It always helped to make things last, didn’t it? To savor each bite the way he’d been taught.

She shrugged. “How come Harold goes to trade shows with you?”

He raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in conversation. “Questioning my management decisions?”

She tilted her Gatorade bottle his direction. “Just trying to get to know you better. And to ignore the…music.” Her full lips formed into a smile, one that reached her eyes and made him wonder for one insane moment if he had what it took to make a go of it, even for a little while, with a woman like her.

But if she knew who he was, deep down, she wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him.

And for some strange reason, Aidan wasn’t in any hurry for that to happen.

…

Trees. Lots and lots of trees in this section of the highway. Some turning
gorgeous shades of oranges, yellows, and reds. A contrast to what was mostly barren stretches of central Oregon high desert.

Look at the pretty trees.

Birds sit in them, deer rest underneath them, people picnic around them.

Dogs pee on them.

Delaney squirmed in her seat, rapped her knuckles on the passenger side windowpane. Oh, hell.

She really couldn’t deny it any longer. Every distraction she’d tried for the past fifteen minutes wasn’t helping. And if she didn’t say something soon, she knew she’d miss an opportunity to stop. “Aidan?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to pee.”

To his credit, he didn’t take his eyes off the road, but she felt his glare anyway.

“You just went.”

“That was a long time ago.” She wiggled uncomfortably. Really, you’d think the guy considered it on par with capital punishment, the way he threw her an indignant look. “What’s the big deal? There’s a rest area a couple miles ahead. Problem solved.” She rapped her knuckles harder. “I’ve been holding it for the past fifteen minutes.”

“Why don’t you use the Gatorade bottle?”

He had to be kidding. “What?” She glared at him, sure she hadn’t quite heard him right.

“The Gatorade bottle. It’s empty, isn’t it?”

He didn’t just say that, did he? “Yeah, but in case you hadn’t noticed, my plumbing’s way different from yours.”

He glanced at the dashboard again. Probably trying to figure out if there was enough time to stop.

“Maybe if you didn’t drink so much Gatorade, you wouldn’t have to go so often.”

“Oh, sure, you’d rather have me go thirsty than stop and use the restroom.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“Aidan, seriously?” She picked up a pen and traced a star on a sketch in her notebook.

“You certainly don’t have a problem asking for anything, do you?”

She looked intently at her drawing, then blew out a breath between slightly parted lips. “I figure I owe it to all women to stand up for what I want. If more of us do that, that’s how we’ll change the world.” She nodded once.

“What if a woman wanted to marry and raise kids? Wouldn’t she still be changing the world?”

“I suppose that’s what you want, huh? Someone to be your support system while you go out and make things happen.” There was no way to keep the irritation from her voice. Not that she’d tried very hard.

“Just trying to make conversation.”

“Oh, well, then. Of course she could. But only if it’s what she
really
wanted to do.” She tapped the end of her pen on the pad’s spiral ring.

How could she begin to explain it, to make him understand? Because for reasons she didn’t want to examine, it was important he did.

“See, life’s about opening up your heart to the possibilities,” she ventured. “It’s about letting all the parts of it in and really experiencing it. How’s a woman supposed to do that if she’s pigeonholed because of her gender?”