Sleeping Arrangements (Silhouette Desire) (8 page)

When he got out of the car and walked around to her side, she didn’t wait for him. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and shut the door behind her, just in time to be pushed by Spencer up to the edge of a temporary construction fence surrounding the building they’d parked in front of. Scaffolding and blue tarp hid most of the three-story gray-stone building from sight.

A building like that would go for two million in this neighborhood, she knew, easy.

His body was a brick wall behind her. He clamped one hand on her shoulder, fingers tight through her winter coat, and with the other forced her chin up until she stared at the building in front on her. His voice vibrated with tension like a tightly twisted rope, two seconds from snapping.

“I own this building. My office will be on the ground floor, my home on the top two. I’ll have a copy of the deed sent to your office by messenger tomorrow morning.”

If you’re going to screw up, do it in a big way, she’d always said. Or at least, she’d be saying it from now on.

When he didn’t continue, only dropped his hand from her chin to rest it on her other shoulder, more gently now, she opened her mouth.

“My turn to speak?” She tried but couldn’t keep a touch of asperity from her words.

Unbelievably, she thought he laughed behind her. “I’ve not noticed you waiting for turns so far.”

She twisted in his grasp until she faced him. Tilting her head back to look him in the eye, she was excruciatingly aware of how close their mouths were. Time to act like a grown-up.

“I’m sorry. What I said was rude and uncalled for and I knew it wasn’t true when I said it.” Being a grown-up sucked.

Their faces were close enough that his breath warmed her
cheek when he spoke. He’d kept his hands on her as she’d turned, and she found that her own hands rested on his forearms as she looked steadily at him.

“Then why did you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Somehow you just bring out the
West Side Story
in me.”

This time he did laugh. His smile revealed a dimple in one sharply planed cheek.

“Ready to rumble at a moment’s notice?”

“Something like that.” She looked away. This was crazy. The occasional car hissed past through the slush-covered street, and she was about two seconds from kissing this man she’d only just apologized to for calling a con artist. She looked back. “I really am sorry, Reed.”

“One of these times, you’re going to call me by my first name,” he said, and then his mouth was on hers and she was glad he hadn’t made her kiss him first. Without a thought, her hands slid up his arms until her gloved fingers pressed fiercely on the back of his neck as her mouth opened to him. She breathed his breath and nipped at his lip and her need poured from her into his kiss.

The fence swayed a little behind her as they stumbled up against it and a passing car honked at them, but every sensation outside of the kiss came to her as if from miles away. The taste of his mouth, still sweet from dessert. The pressure of his hand locked onto her hip. The storm of this kiss, raging between them, was all she could feel.

His other hand fisted in her hair, tugging her head deliciously back until her bare throat was exposed to the cold night air and the heat of his lips and tongue skating down the column of her neck. Even with her eyes closed, she could see the stars in the black night above her.

The shock of ice in her pants had her jerking away from the embrace with a sudden start.

“Hey, now!”

Spencer had managed to unbutton her coat and snake his
hands inside and up under her shirt, something she hadn’t minded at all at the time. But now, with snow from his gloves and the fence and the world in general sliding south of her waistline, she was considerably less enthusiastic.

“Ice. Ice in pants,” she said, hopping in a circle and trying to scoop out the snow wedged in her pants with two curled fingers. She only managed to push it in farther. “Ai yi yi, so cold.” She gave up. Turning her back on Spencer, she unzipped her pants, gasped at the smack of cold air on her skin and finally managed to rid herself of the chilly clumps. Struggling with gloved fingers to pull her zipper back up, she heard what sounded suspiciously like choking coming from behind her.

“I swear to God, if you’re laughing, Reed, you’re gonna know exactly what this feels like in about two seconds.”

Before she could turn around, his arms were around her, bundling her up in an enormous hug. His lips were cold against her ear as he whispered, laughter in his voice.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

In a second, he had her spun around and pressed up against the side of his car.

“Where were we?”

She pressed her palms firmly against his chest and reared her head back out of reach.

“We were making a big mistake, that’s where we were.”

Tugging on her scarf, he tried to pull her closer. “No, no, no. I’m the sensible one.” He leaned his hips against hers and the focus of her entire body shot south. “You’re the one who can’t control her impulses.”

“You’re the attorney,” she said, keeping away from his mouth and wondering where this sudden sense of responsibility had sprung from. “I’m the client.”

“Your great-aunt was my client.”

“Same difference.”

“Not hardly.” But he gave in, dropping his hands and pausing only to press his forehead against hers. She felt him take a couple of deep breaths. “But I see your point.”

Stepping out of his embrace, she put her hand on the car door and opened it. “Come on, let’s go.” After she slid into her seat, he pushed the door softly shut. He stood next to the car, motionless for a little while, before walking around it and getting in. He was shaking his head, but didn’t say anything.

She waited until they’d arrived back at her mother’s house, double-parking next to her truck. After a moment of silence, she scooched around in her seat until she was facing him, one arm braced on her seat, the other on the dash.

“Look, Reed,” she began, and then stopped. She didn’t want to be abrupt now. The words mattered because she knew she was right. “I appreciate the fact that you want to help. Really, I do. But this isn’t going to work.”

His face was shadowed. “Which part of it?”

She understood immediately. His offer to marry her and what happened between them every time they got within two feet of each other were separate things. Unfortunately.

“Any of it.”

His exhale echoed her own. “I don’t want you to give up on your great-aunt’s house, Addy.”

“I’m not.” She laughed at herself and caught his answering smile. “I didn’t want to scam my way into her inheritance at first, but I’ll admit it now—I’ve changed my mind. If Great-Aunt Adeline wanted to put some crazy rules in her will, I’m willing to be a little crazy in turn.”

He reached a hand over and squeezed her knee. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

Good, they were back to teasing insults. She was comfortable with that. “My insanity only goes so far. I’ll find someone to marry, but it’ll be someone I’m not so…” She drifted off into silence.

His hand slid higher up her thigh. She felt every molecule in her body vibrate with renewed tension and caught her breath on a sharp inhale.

“So instantly attracted to?” He bared white teeth in a sudden grin.

“It may surprise you to hear this, Reed, but I don’t hop into bed with every guy I’m attracted to, much less marry them.” She popped the door open and jumped out of the car. She’d learned her lesson about staying near him when she felt like this. He leaned over the console between the seats to keep her in his sight.

“It wouldn’t surprise me at all.” He laughed shortly. “Half of them are probably running scared after you give them a tongue-lashing that reminds them of their mothers.”

“Flatterer.”

“Just promise me that you won’t do anything sudden, Addy.” His voice was abruptly serious and his gaze locked on hers, extracting a promise she didn’t want to give. “Let me know if you decide to do something and then give yourself twenty-four hours to think about it, okay? You’ve got some time here.”

She’d just turned his offer down flat and he was still trying to look out for her. A sweet warmth stole over her. She ducked her head back in the car and pressed a quick, cold kiss to his cheek.

“You’re a good man, Spencer Reed,” she whispered in his ear and felt his hand brush over her hair like an angel’s kiss.

She shut the car door and sprinted up the walk to her mother’s door. Time to say goodbye before heading home. On the porch, she turned and looked back at his dark form sitting still in the car. He raised one hand in a brief farewell and drove away while she watched him.

A good man.

Two weeks later, Addy would have paid a thousand dollars for a rewind button on life that let her go back to that moment outside the car, just so she could lunge back in the door and smack him silly.

A good man. Bah. A dirty-dealing, underhanded sneak was more like it. She should have known better than to think Spencer Reed was looking out for her. Too trusting, that’s what she was.

The man was driving her batty. Another two weeks of this nonsense and she’d be
asking
for the straitjacket and the keys to the padded room.

All because she’d taken him at his word. Foolish girl.

Three days after the dinner at her mom’s house, Addy had left a message on Spencer’s voice mail at work. She’d called after midnight, hoping that even an obvious workaholic like him would have left the office by then. Keeping it brief, she’d simply told him that she’d made arrangements with one of her brother’s co-workers for a marriage that would end amicably in divorce, after the appropriate time stipulated in her great-aunt’s will.

The part she came to regret was that she’d mentioned the man’s name.

At quarter to five the next evening, a messenger had arrived at her office bearing a slim envelope with two sheets of paper. The first was a note from Spencer.

The second page was a rap sheet.

After calling up her brother to read him the riot act and probably getting the guy fired to boot, she’d reluctantly decided to look elsewhere. Although the temptation to go ahead just to spite her self-appointed guardian angel was strong.

She wasn’t that stubborn, though, so she’d rejoined the search. At that point, she’d even felt a little gratitude toward Spencer. He obviously cared what happened to her.

But when she left her next message, she was careful to be deliberately vague about her new choice. No sense letting the man think she wanted him to vet every prospective groom.

She should have known better. Who knew what a busy-body a guy with a law degree could be? It turned out that he
called up her mother and pried the name of the latest man out of her.

This time, his note arrived with a videocassette wrapped in brown paper.

Drat the man. She didn’t need an angel. Just someone willing to share a house and a marriage license for a while in exchange for some cash. On the other hand, the porn-star thing was a little creepy.

At this point, she stopped leaving him messages. The damage, however, had been done. After hearing about her first two unbelievably poor choices, her family conspired behind her back to work with Spencer. Despite her stern commands to the contrary, she found out that they’d started calling him up and asking him to run background checks.

Two weeks of this madness was enough.

She banged with a fist on his office door, a crumpled slip of paper sticking out between her clenched fingers, and hollered his name.

“Reed! Get your butt out here!”

She heard his measured tread approaching the door and waited for him, one foot tapping like a jackhammer on the cement stoop. As the door swung open, she held the latest note between both hands and snapped it open with a crinkling of wrinkled paper.

“What is this supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“Good evening to you, too, Addy,” he said and gestured for her to enter. When she ignored him, he glanced at the note. “I believe it says, ‘You’re kidding, right? Spencer.’”

“Don’t avoid the question.” She poked him in the chest with one finger. “What’s wrong with Steve Henderson?”

“Not a thing,” he said. The moment she let her smirk show, he opened his mouth again and she knew she’d triumphed too soon. “If you’re into bigamy, that is.”

“He’s married?” Like a balloon popped by a pin, her shoulders slumped and her head sank. “Since when did it get so hard to find a good man to marry you for cash?”

“I couldn’t tell you, but do you think we could continue this inside? I’m freezing here.”

She looked him up and down and realized that he was standing in front of her in jeans, a casual white button-down shirt and bare feet. His hair was rumpled and his glasses dangled by a stem from his shirt pocket. She raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Friday is casual day around here, even for me. In, please?”

Stepping across the threshold, she gave him a wide berth as she passed. He closed the door behind her and the light in the hall dimmed further. Light shone from a door down the hall—his office, she presumed—but the rest of the building looked battened down for the weekend.

“I’d offer you coffee, but my assistant’s gone for the night and she locks up everything except the decaf when she leaves. Claims I’m too irritable in the morning if I drink the real stuff all night long.”

He strode off toward the light, assuming she’d follow. She considered staying put and just yelling but decided that wouldn’t be dignified. She stalked after him.

In his office, she sank into the chair opposite his desk, swung both legs over one arm and dropped her head back over the other. She groaned aloud.

He said nothing.