Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance) (21 page)

For God’s sake, give it a rest. Enough already. If you want to know how he’s feeling and what he wants, ask the man. If you’re not prepared to do that, don’t manufacture positions for him. You’ll just make yourself more crazy-pants than you already are.

She sighed, knowing good advice when her superego offered it to her. Whether she was going to be able to take it was a different matter.

It was stifling when she entered the studio—Robin was out meeting a potential client and they didn’t leave the air conditioning running when no one was around. She had to make two trips to bring up all the clothes, and by the end she was ready for a long shower and a glass of wine, both of which were far away since she still had hours of work ahead of her. To add to her joy, her stomach started to complain as she brought her laptop to the trestle table where she’d dumped the clothes. So much for the muesli bar she’d consumed while on the road at lunchtime.

She pushed her hunger aside and concentrated on the detailed, finicky work required to specify and perfect the looks for the catalogue. Fashion Week was one of the industry’s highest profile events, and scoring this contract had been a real feather in her and Robin’s caps—a direct result, Vivian suspected, of them both being new in town with the gloss of L.A. still attached to them. They needed to knock this out of the park to cement their reputations, which meant she had to make sure these substitutions blended seamlessly into the vision she and Robin had created.

She wheeled a couple of her expensive, articulated mannequins out of the storeroom and went to work setting up the first few outfits. By six she was halfway through the new selection, with a growing list of items she needed to dash out and grab before the shops closed at nine. She was rubbing her forehead, trying to massage away the stress headache tightening like a clamp around her skull, when a masculine voice spoke from the studio entrance.

“We were hoping we’d find you here.”

She glanced up, blinking in surprise when she saw Seth standing there, Daisy strapped across his chest in a sling.

“Hi,” she said, utterly flummoxed. She hadn’t expected to see him—them—today. She definitely hadn’t expected Seth to seek her out.

“We brought you dinner, since I figured you probably haven’t had a chance to eat.” Seth lifted his hand to draw her attention to the plain brown paper bag he carried. “Grilled chicken and avocado burger with spicy fries, or a cheeseburger with extra pickle. Your choice.”

“I’m not sure I have time to eat,” she admitted, even as her stomach emitted a loud growl.

“I think you’ve been overruled. Fifteen minutes to refuel won’t kill you.”

She checked her watch. “It might if it means I miss the shops.”

“Ten minutes, then. You can’t work all day and night on adrenaline, Viv.”

She had no idea how he knew that she’d barely eaten all day, but she didn’t have the time or energy to fight what she suspected was a losing battle.

“Okay. But this isn’t going to be pretty, so you might want to avert your eyes,” she said.

“When I took Sam and Max to the zoo we saw feeding time at the lion enclosure. I’m pretty sure I’m unshockable in this area,” he said, coming closer.

“You keep believing that.” She met him halfway, leaning in so she could see Daisy’s face. She was fast asleep, being strapped to her daddy’s chest obviously agreeing with her. “How are you, sweet girl?”

She could feel Seth watching her, and suddenly she felt ridiculously shy as the full impact of what he’d done hit her. He’d been worried about her, and he’d packed up Daisy and come into the city to ensure she had dinner. Warmth spread through her chest as she processed the import behind his actions.

Seth cared about her. And, unless she was wildly misinterpreting his actions, last night had not been a one-time-only event. The relief that washed through her was so encompassing and profound she had to blink away tears.

“You okay?” Seth asked, his voice worried.

“Yeah. Of course.” She still couldn’t quite look at him, so she concentrated on Daisy, stroking a finger down her cheek.

“Let’s get some food into you,” Seth said.

They walked to the kitchenette, perching on the stools placed beneath the window and spreading their feast out on the long, slim counter.

“Cheeseburger or chicken?” Seth asked as she tried not to drool over the smell of hot food.

“I don’t know. They both look amazing,” she said.

“Halvies it is, then.” He stood to fetch a knife.

She watched as he carefully cut each burger in half, the warm feeling in her chest expanding to fill her stomach and pelvis.

“Thanks for doing this, Seth. For thinking of me.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, thinking of you is pretty easy for me, Viv.” He said it lightly, but there was a gravity beneath his words that made her want to touch him.

And so she did, sliding her hand onto his shoulder, then to the warm skin at the nape of his neck.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, the feeling is entirely mutual.” She did what she’d been wanting to do since he walked in the door, pressing her mouth to his.

He responded instantly, his tongue stroking hers, his desire evident in the way his mouth moved and the way he reached for her shoulders. She wanted to be closer, but Daisy was between them, and after a few seconds they broke apart.

“Have I mentioned that I have another woman in my life?” Seth said.

“Let me guess—I bet she’s a blonde,” Vivian said, settling back onto her stool.

“How did you know?”

“Just a feeling I had.”

They started to eat, Seth asking about her day and making sympathetic noises as she described her many phone calls and frantic zigzagging across the city. The horrible, wound-up feeling eased as the food hit her stomach and Seth made her laugh. By the time she’d finished, her shoulders were a whole inch lower and her head clear for the first time in hours.

“God, I needed that,” she said as she polished off the last of the fries.

Seth was checking on Daisy, but he glanced at Vivian, his eyes warm. “Thought you might have.”

He returned to adjusting Daisy’s position in the sling, and Vivian quelled the urge to kiss him again. It was just a burger, after all, and a little bit of consideration and forethought on his behalf. It shouldn’t mean quite so much to her. Not after just one night.

She gathered the remnants of their meal and tossed them in the bin, then washed her hands at the sink.

“I hate to eat and run, but I really should get back into it,” she said reluctantly.

“Consider us gone,” Seth said, standing carefully, one hand supporting the baby.

Would she ever be unaffected by the sight of his tender concern for his child? There was something very simple and good about watching someone with so much physical power exert himself to be gentle.

He caught her watching him. “Yeah, I know, this thing is ridiculous, the most emasculating invention in the history of the world. But she loves it.”

“Well, you do have a nice chest. She has good taste.”

“Must take after her old man.”

He followed her into the studio and paused to examine the garment rack. “So this is a whole outfit for the shoot, is it?” He indicated the look sheet pinned to one of the garment bags.

“That’s right. I call these look sheets, for want of a better term, but everyone else calls them Vivian’s anal retentive checklist. What you see there is a thumbnail image of the components that make up the look, and I use it to confirm I have everything I need at this end, and at the other end. You’d be amazed how easy it is to forget accessories on location, especially with makeshift change rooms. Sometimes they just add that little extra lift.” She gestured, her hand mimicking a bird taking off.

“So where’s tomorrow’s location?”

“Robin and I found this amazing Victorian mansion an hour out of town. It’s in the middle of a field, and it’s perfect—peeling wallpaper, crumbling plaster, fabulous decayed decadence.”

Seth was smiling by the time she finished and she gave him a look. “What?”

“You should see your face light up when you talk about your work. If your job was a guy, I might have to take it out back and give it a black eye.”

The thought of Seth being jealous of her—possessive of her—triggered the chest-pinching feeling again, and she turned away in case he could see how much his words had affected her.

Stupid, when being charming was in his DNA.

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do, okay?” Seth said.

“Thanks.” She shuffled some papers.

His hand landed on her hip, and when she glanced over her shoulder he pressed a kiss to her lips. The need for more was like a drug in her blood, making her turn into his embrace and open her mouth. The low, insistent throb of need started between her thighs and when he lifted his head her chest was rising and falling as though she’d run a race.

“When am I going to see you again?” he asked very quietly, his hand sliding up into her hair so that he cradled the back of her skull. It felt so good, so reassuring, that she closed her eyes for a moment.

“I won’t finish till late tonight. And tomorrow might go long, too.”

“What if I promised you dinner after the shoot?”

“What if the shoot runs late?”

“I can wait.”

“Okay. I’ll come over afterward.”

He pressed one last, quick kiss to her mouth. “See you then.”

She rested a hand on her chest as he walked away, just to confirm that her heart really was beating that fast, that frantically. Like a bird fighting to be released from a cage.

This man drove her wild, there was no two ways about it. He affected her on every level, so much so that it bordered on scary.

She turned to her work. Whether she was comfortable with it or not, she’d started something when she went to Seth’s room last night. Or maybe she’d started it when she returned to Australia. Either way, this was happening, and it was happening without a safety net because this was
Seth.

She let her breath out on a sigh, deliberately letting go of all the doubts rattling around her head.

She was going to go to Seth’s tomorrow night, and she was going jump his bones again and whatever happened after that was what happened after that.

CHAPTER TWELVE

S
ETH
SPENT
F
RIDAY
at the bar, working through the pile of paperwork on his desk, answering emails, returning phone calls. There were bank records to get to his accountant for the quarterly business activity statement, there was superannuation to pay into his staff’s various nominated accounts, there was stock to order and promotions to consider and deals to hunt down. He did it all with Daisy slung across his chest and was a little astonished at how much comfort he gained from having her so close, and how much more settled she was in between feeds and sleeps.

Clearly, kangaroos knew what they were doing, keeping their babies close for so long. Now, if only he could grow a pouch...

He dropped by his friend Sue’s gallery on the way home, collecting the commission he’d left with her that morning, and spent longer than he’d intended trawling the aisles at the supermarket, trying to decide between marinating some fish and making a salad, or making his never-fail chicken curry. He wanted Vivian to feel pampered and cared for after what had probably been a stressful, demanding day, an urge that would have seen him giving himself sideways glances not so long ago.

But this was Vivian. She was...something else, and the thought of easing her burdens in any way, shape or form made him feel good. Better than good.

He paused in front of the spice display, remembering the way she’d looked at him last night when he’d arrived with dinner. As though she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, she was so tired and freaked out. Being able to make her smile, and to smooth out the wrinkle of worry between her eyebrows, had made him feel ten feet tall.

Someone brushed past him, and he realized he was smiling at the curry powder like a goof. Feeling suitably idiotic, he glanced around to see if anyone had noticed before tossing a jar of his favorite into the cart and heading for the registers.

Not that he was embarrassed about caring for Vivian. Far from it. But he couldn’t help thinking that maybe he was getting a little ahead of himself. They’d spent one night together. She was coming over for dinner tonight. No one had said anything about the future, about what they were doing together. Not something he’d ever worried about before, but it was different this time. Because it was Vivian.

Daisy started to fuss as he fitted her into the car seat, and she cried all the way home, the sound amplified in the small cabin of his car. He banged the back of his head on the car frame when he picked her up once he got home, then spent the next hour trying to get her to settle. She didn’t want a bottle, she didn’t seem tired, she didn’t respond to cuddling, tickling or jiggling. Finally he tried bathing her, and she calmed down, then drifted off to sleep. He did a frantic once-over clean of the house, changed the sheets on his bed and started dinner.

The curry was ready to be deployed, a bottle of white wine was cooling in the fridge, and he was getting twitchy by the time Vivian called at nine.

“We just finished. I’m on the other side of town, so I won’t make it to Ivanhoe for another forty minutes. Still want me to come over?” He could hear the weariness in her voice and the urge to reach through the phone and comfort her was a visceral, physical thing. If he could somehow magic her across town on the spot, he’d do it.

“Well, I could eat all of this awesome chicken curry on my own. I’m definitely capable of it. But I’m not so sure about the bottle of pinot grigio I’ve got in the fridge.”

“Oh, that sounds good. If you’re sure you’re still up for a visitor, I’ll hit the road.”

“I’m up for it,” he said simply.

Her laugh was low and suggestive. “I bet,” she said before ending the call.

He hadn’t meant his comment to be sexual, but he wasn’t about to object to her interpretation, because, of course, he wanted her again.

He woke Daisy to feed her, then they sat on the couch waiting for Vivian to arrive. He was dozing with Daisy’s barely there weight on his chest when the doorbell rang, and it took him a moment to come to wakefulness and get to the door.

Vivian gave him a faint smile when he opened the door. “One zombie, for your amusement and delectation.” Her usually sleek hair was rumpled, her clothes wrinkled and dusty. Her makeup was smudged beneath her eyes, and she had a bandage on her thumb. “Safety pin injury.”

“Nasty. I prescribe a glass of wine and dinner.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

She stepped forward and dropped a kiss onto Daisy’s head before finding his mouth with her own, her hand curling around his forearm in a warm grip.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she said when they broke their kiss.

He tried not to be alarmed by how fiercely pleased he was at her words.

“Come in.” He held out a hand and when she slipped hers into it, tugged her into the house, kicking the door shut. “How hungry are you? Because I made a lot of curry.”

“I could eat a small horse. But I’d probably prefer chicken.”

“Good decision.”

He pushed her into a chair at the kitchen table, and when she held out her arms for Daisy, he handed her over. He opened the wine and poured a big glass, then asked about her day as he served their meal. She proceeded to give him a humorous, vivid account of the shoot, pausing only to rain praise on him when she took her first mouthful of curry.

“This is amazing. Did you...?”

“I did.”

“Wow. Then it’s even more amazing.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

She smiled and then quickly tried to hide it with her hand. “Sorry. That wasn’t very diplomatic of me, was it? It’s just you have been at great pains to establish your nonculinary credentials. All that talk about cans of soup.”

“I know. But I can rustle up a decent feed if I concentrate all my puny powers.”

“Well, I feel honored.” There was a warmth in her eyes that made him intensely glad that he’d gone to so much trouble.

She was worth it. More than worth it.

True to her assertion that she was hungry, she polished off her meal in no time, sighing with contentment as she reached for her wineglass.

“That was so good it should be illegal,” she said.

“There’s more if you want seconds.”

“I’ll wait a bit, see if my stomach catches up with my mouth. But thank you.”

“There’s dessert, too, although I thought you might like a soak in the spa bath between courses.”

“You have a spa bath?”

“In the main bathroom, complete with shag carpet and a mirrored ceiling,” he said, quoting her own description back to her.

“You have a good memory.”

Only for the things she said to him.

“Want me to fill the tub for you?”

She bit her lip, and he could see that she was torn—wanting the bath, but worried about how antisocial it would be to abandon him for a soak.

“I’m going to run the bath,” he said, taking the decision out of her hands.

“Okay,” she said meekly.

Ten minutes later, she handed over Daisy and disappeared into the bathroom. Seth changed Daisy’s diaper before putting his sleepy girl to bed. He could hear Vivian splashing around in the tub next door and his head filled with vivid, steam-framed images of her as he made his way to the kitchen. He refilled her wineglass, then headed for the bathroom.

“Okay for me to come in?” he asked after tapping lightly on the door.

“Hang on. I’ll just wash out this shampoo mohawk... Okay, it’s safe to come in.”

She was chin-deep in bubbles when he entered.

“A shampoo mohawk would suit you,” he said.

“Sadly, my days of crazy haircuts are long gone.” She lifted a foot to nudge the bottle of bath foam sitting on the ledge. “Did you buy that for me?”

“As if, Walker. I have bubble baths all the time. Right before I give myself a pedicure.”

She huffed out a laugh and indicated the wine. “Is that for me, too?”

“What do you think?” He handed it over.

“I think I could get used to this. Better be careful.”

He shrugged, pretending he’d barely noticed her words. He wasn’t about to say it out loud, but he could get used to caring for her like this, too.

He took a step toward the door. “Give me a shout when you’re ready for dessert.”

“Where are you going?”

“I was going to leave you in peace.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be in peace. Stay and talk to me.” She offered him a hopeful smile.

As if he was going to say no to anything this woman asked of him.

“I’ll go find something to sit on.”

He made himself stop and take a deep breath once he was in the hallway. Not so long ago, he’d been a pretty cool customer when it came to the women in his life. Since Vivian had returned, he’d forgotten what that felt like. Maybe it was time to remember, for his pride’s sake, if nothing else.

Accordingly, he forced himself to walk slowly into the kitchen to grab a chair. Just to prove to himself that he could.

* * *

V
IVIAN
SET
HER
wineglass on the side of the tub and sank into the water until the spice-scented bubbles tickled her chin. Her belly was warm from food and wine, her body cradled by water, and any second now, Seth would return and she would have the company of the sexiest, most intriguing man she’d ever met while she soaked away the cares and stresses of the day.

Pretty much her idea of heaven, really—all thanks to Seth. He’d gone to a lot of trouble on her behalf. He’d knocked himself out to be thoughtful, and the knowledge he’d put so much time and effort into ensuring her comfort and happiness was more heady than any wine.

Although maybe she shouldn’t be quite so surprised. She’d seen the way he’d pulled out all the stops for Daisy in recent weeks. When he cared, Seth didn’t hold anything back.

The thought made her close her eyes against a dizzying rush of hope and fear. She’d been working very hard not to second-guess herself and Seth, and she’d come here tonight determined not to get caught up in all the what-ifs that surrounded them. Right now was what was important, and it was good. That was all she needed to concentrate on.

A breeze brushed her cheek as the door opened, and Seth appeared with a chair in one hand and his own wineglass in the other. Placing the chair in front of the vanity, he sat and took a sip.

“So. What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Tell me about your day. I feel as though I’ve been yammering at you since I arrived.”

“I’ll save you a blow-by-blow account of the many diapers Daisy burned through and give you the condensed version. I sorted out a truckload of admin stuff at the bar today, and the Browns called to confirm Lola’s funeral will be on Tuesday.”

“Does that mean they’ll be going home soon?”

“I assume so, although we didn’t discuss it. I know they had to leave at short notice so they aren’t really set up to stay longer, even if they wanted to.”

“No. And I guess the comforts of home must look pretty appealing right now.”

“Yeah.”

Seth propped his bare feet on the rim of the tub as he talked about his day. She stretched out her aching feet and closed her eyes, listening to the low gravel of his voice, enjoying the undemanding pleasure of having him close. If someone had suggested a week ago that she could be naked and in the same room as Seth without being beside herself with longing, she would have laughed in their face. The hum of need was there, of course—it was always when he was near—but right at this moment it was enough that they were sharing the same space. That they would make love tonight was a given, and there was something decadently delicious about simply accepting that fact and allowing herself to savor the slow build of anticipation as they enjoyed each other in a different way.

“Here. Give me your foot and I’ll rub it for you.”

She opened her eyes to find him shifting the chair closer to the bath.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“So they’re not sore, then?” His raised eyebrow told her he would be deeply skeptical if she tried to deny it.

“After twelve hours on them, it’d be a miracle if they weren’t. But you’ve done more than enough.”

“Pass me your foot, idiot.”

“Well. Since you asked so nicely, you silver tongue, you.”

She lifted her right leg from the water, aware of how heavy and warm the limb felt. God, it was good to let go of the day’s tension. Seth placed her heel on his knee, immediately going to work on the arch of her foot with his long, strong fingers.

“Ooooh,” she moaned, almost slipping beneath the water, the pleasure-pain of his touch was so good.

“You like that, do you?”

“Keep that up and I’m going to need a cigarette in a few minutes,” she said, closing her eyes so she could concentrate on what he was doing.

“Interesting.”

Her eyes popped open and she found he was regarding her with a smoky, patient intensity that made her sex contract instinctively.

“One thing at a time,” he said, as if he could read her mind.

“You started it,” she said as she closed her eyes again, unable to stop herself from smiling.

He didn’t respond, but continued his good work, his thumbs digging into her heel, her arch, the ball of her foot. She relaxed, her body softening. After a while he tapped her other knee and she offered up her left foot to his ministrations.

“You still awake there?” he asked.

“Mmm.”

“You sink any lower and you’ll need a snorkel.”

“Or maybe you’d have to climb in and rescue me.”

His thumbs stilled on her foot for a second. “True.”

She caught him looking at her with what she could only describe as carnal intent. One glance at the water revealed that much of the foam had dissipated and he had an almost clear view of her body.

“See anything you like?” she asked lazily.

“A couple of things.”

“Only a couple?”

She glided her hand onto her breasts, using her thumb and forefinger to tease her nipple to hardness, not taking her gaze from his the whole time.

“I don’t want to come across as greedy,” he said.