The Best Mistake of Her Life (6 page)

“Trigonometry,” Memphis said.

“And here I thought you were just another pretty face.” And more than an eye could stand as drops of water beaded on the ripples of his chest.

“That’s because you refused to see more,”
Memphis said with a sardonic tone. “If I want to determine the path my dirt bike will make when it hits a ramp at high rates of speed, trigonometry is necessary.”

Her voice held more than a hint of shock. “You do calculations before your jumps?”

“Always. Even as a teen.”

Surprise left her blinking hard as she remembered the many stunts she’d witnessed herself. A brazen adolescent Memphis, hot, sweaty and covered in dust. And Kate, her body on fire and her heart in her throat as he rode his dirt bike off a ramp. “I always assumed you were just winging it.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said. Although the familiar teasing smile was firmly in place, there was an underlying edge to his tone. “You assumed a lot of things.”

Gazes locked, a wave of awareness moved through her. Not the sexual kind, that was permanently seared into her brain, thank you very much. No, this was an awareness of just how deep his anger went over her past treatment of him. She knew she deserved quite a bit of his bitterness. She also knew her cool treatment of him had been purely a defense mechanism, but she would never share that truth. Not when it could, and
would
, be used as ammunition against her.

A trickle of blood from his forehead merged with a salt-water drip from his hair, the bloody rivulet running down his temple.

Kate shifted on her feet. “At least let me clean up your cut.”

Memphis heaved out a sigh, as if her response wasn’t the one he’d been hoping for. Without a word, he rummaged through a plastic tote and pulled out a flat metal box, tossing the first-aid kit onto the table. “God forbid I stand between Kate Anderson and her attempt to keep the world neat and tidy, with everyone in their place.”

Ignoring his words, Kate cleared her throat and opened the first-aid kit, hoping to change the conversation. “What time will you pick me up for the dinner party tomorrow?”

“Seven o’clock,” he said as he sat in a folding chair.

She rummaged through the contents of the kit, the silence stretching between them. After gathering the necessary items, she rounded the table and stopped in front of Memphis.

“There are latex gloves in the box,” he said, his dark gaze challenging hers. “So you don’t have to get your hands dirty.”

She paused, gauze in hand, and stared down into the decadent caramel eyes framed with water-spiked lashes, the sensual lips framed in half a day’s stubble. The memory of her hand pressed against his erection in the dressing room resurfaced, heat surging in response. Kate blinked hard and bit the inside of her cheek, concentrating on the abrasion as she dabbed the cut to absorb the blood.

Kissing him might be out, but she definitely owed him an apology.

“I never thought you were dirty, Memphis,” she said, carefully avoiding his gaze. “You were just … too much for me as a teen.”

“Yeah,” Memphis said slowly, staring up at her as her heart did a little twist. “I remember.”

Unfortunately, so did she. Once, at sixteen, she’d hunted down her brother to warn him of their father’s anger over Brian’s latest escapade with Memphis. She’d found the two boys setting up a stunt, and Memphis had laughed at her concern, calling her Angel Face for the very first time. It was one of those few moments she’d lost her cool, and when Brian took off for the ramp on his dirt bike, she’d lit into Memphis. But her angry words had only made him smile bigger, and when she’d finished her tirade, he leaned in and kissed her.

Confused and so turned on her teenage body didn’t know which way to turn, she’d slapped him in the face. One week later she’d started dating Dalton. Handsome, smart and easygoing, he was well loved by her parents. With the added bonus of not driving her crazy.

Memphis tipped his head. “That was a heck of a slap you gave me. But I was truly in awe of your ability to ignore the obvious.”

Needing a moment, she averted her gaze, tossing the bloody gauze aside. As the silence ticked by between them, she searched for the cotton balls and the alcohol, her fingers clumsy. She
could feel his expectant gaze. When she was finally steady enough to face him again, the rich caramel eyes with a hint of heat nearly stalled her heart. He was waiting for her to respond.

And she knew why.

“I …” Despite her attempt to keep her tone light, her voice faltered. “I shouldn’t have kissed you back yesterday.”

“Why not?” Memphis asked. “It’s not like you’re married anymore.”

“But still,” she said, dipping the cotton ball in the alcohol. “It was wrong and I apologize.”

Memphis’s hand shot up and wrapped around her arm, the cotton ball reeking of alcohol as she stared at him, heart pounding in her chest.

“It wasn’t wrong, Kate,” he said, his gaze intense on hers from below.

Fingers clamped around the soft cotton, she pulled her arm away. “I was drunk.”

“You were tipsy.”

“I was intoxicated,” she said through clenched teeth.

“You had full command of your faculties and picture-perfect Angel Face doesn’t want to admit it.”

“And you’re going out of your way to make this apology difficult,” she said, and, with no gentleness in her touch, she plopped the alcohol-soaked swab directly onto the cut.

The swift intake of his breath was sharp. “That’s because I don’t want another damn apology,”
Memphis said, his voice hard. “I just want the truth.”

They locked gazes and several seconds passed while Kate’s heart struck her rib cage with added force. Now was the time to redraw the line in the sand. “There’s only one truth, Memphis,” she said. Finishing her task, she reached for the bandage, tearing open the package, her fingers clumsy. “We are not involved. We are just friends who made a mistake in the past.”

Memphis hiked a brow skeptically. “Friends?”

Kate pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to let loose. But a verbal tirade, no matter how much Memphis James the Provoker deserved it, wouldn’t help. She centered the bandage over his cut and smoothed the edges in place. “In a loose interpretation of the word, yes,” she said. “Just friends.” When he didn’t respond, she brushed a stray strand of hair back from her cheek. “So, in keeping with our established relationship, I expect you to keep your hands to yourself at the dinner party tomorrow.”

His chuckle came out as a throaty rumble that shimmied down her spine and spread outward, heating various parts of her body she’d have preferred to remain cold.

“When have I ever done what’s expected of me?” he said.

Heart knocking harder, she blew out a long, slow breath. “Never,” she said as coolly as she could, her tone firm. “But I’m looking forward to being pleasantly surprised.”

His lopsided grin was enough to make a grown woman weep. “And I’m looking forward to disappointing you, Kate.”

“Memphis.” A tight smile plastered on her face, Kate gazed out the glass wall of the revolving restaurant overlooking the nighttime lights of downtown Miami. “Your hand on my back isn’t exactly projecting the platonic attitude I was hoping for.”

Not to mention the heat from his palm must surely be leaving an imprint on her now-sensitized skin. Not surprisingly, Memphis sounded unconcerned.

“My hand is a disappointing distance from your lovely breasts,” he said. His sandalwood scent was especially distracting tonight. “And respectfully placed well above any other parts that could be considered sexual.”

“It’s too low,” Kate said as quietly as she could given her irritation, praying the soft background music in the elegant bar covered their words. And, dear God, couldn’t they shut down the revolving function of the top floor? Memphis’s hand was making her dizzy enough. “Your fingers are too close to my backside. You need to shift your hand higher.”

If for no other reason than to reestablish her ability to function, because her silk dress provided little protection from the commanding hand on her lower back. From the moment they had entered the room, his palm had settled in as if it
owned the spot, and Kate’s ability to make small talk had been sabotaged.

Which was a problem. Because her goal for tonight was to survive her first foray into the social world as a single woman with as much dignity and as few public ripples as possible. And that meant remaining cool and calm, an impossible battle with Memphis around. She’d barely made it through the introductions to the Robinsons, the couple hosting the evening. Not that introductions were necessary. Memphis’s and Brian’s notorious reputations had been well-known by her class in high school. Few had forgotten.

Nor had they forgotten her publicly scrutinized divorce.

Memphis splayed his fingers a little further, covering more of her back, and the unsteady feeling in her knees increased.

“Move. It. Higher,” she said with false patience.

“Is there a minimum safe distance from your butt that I need to be aware of?” Memphis said dryly.

“Yes,” she said. Anything that didn’t leave her feeling so light-headed and turned-on.

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Because I can head back to my apartment and pick up my electronic tape measure that uses a laser to calculate distance.”

The laser couldn’t possibly sear her as thoroughly as his hand. “You don’t need a ruler or any other measuring device. Just a sense of decency,”
she said as firmly as she could. “Right now your pinky is resting on my panty line.”

“I was simply checking to see if you were wearing any,” Memphis said, his voice easy, and then his little finger gently rubbed a small stretch of the elastic waistband of her undies.

She bit her lip, and then caught Susan Robinson looking at her strangely, so Kate worked hard at arranging her face into a pleasant expression. Unfortunately her muscles were so tense that pleasant and relaxed were next to impossible to achieve.

“And as far as I’m concerned,” Memphis went on. “Touching a woman’s back isn’t considered a public display of affection. Unless, of course—” his voice grew deeper, and Kate knew she was in trouble “—I happened to be touching it with something other than my hand.”

“Memphis,” she groaned, half begging to spare her sanity and half reprimanding for the same reason. Her gaze landed on the waving figure of Cheryl Jackson, the woman making her way toward them with her husband in tow, and Kate lifted her hand in response, her smile now so rigid it could break glass from thirty paces away.

“I suppose there are several parts I could touch you with that would create a stir,” Memphis said, amusement in his voice.

Heat flushed up her chest, her heart thudding as she forced herself to remain calm. Which was going remarkably well, considering.

Until the Jacksons drew closer, and Memphis
leaned in, his mouth just inches from her ear, his breath fanning across her neck. “Shall I try touching you with my tongue and see what kind of reaction we get from your old classmates?”

Kate swallowed hard and rallied her anger. She shot Memphis a look from the corner of her eye, hoping to silence the man who had apparently deemed it national Drive Kate Anderson Insane Day.

He was wearing a pair of dress pants he’d purchased that fateful day in the shop, along with a royal-blue tailored shirt that perfectly fitted his perfect chest. His angular jaw was clean-shaven, his light brown hair trimmed, but still with that slightly mussed look that gave him an I-just-crawled-out-of-bed air. Add to that his sinful eyes framed with long, dark lashes and the effect was one of overwhelming sex appeal that was impossible to ignore.

All of which was annoying, which meant the introductions were difficult when Cheryl and Ted Jackson stopped to say hello. Memphis’s hand on her back was now so low two of his fingers lay south of her panty line. Kate was only too aware of exactly how big a mistake she’d made when she’d kissed him, and that Memphis had every intention of making her pay. She worked hard at forcing her face to relax as she chatted with the couple.

As the minutes passed, more committee members stopped to greet them. Which meant more introductions. And with every one of them,
Memphis was no help at all. And when the last couple moved on as the call to dinner was announced, Kate turned an exasperated fake smile on Memphis. “If you don’t quit with the torture I’m going to test your high-fall skills by pushing you out that window.”

Memphis tipped back his head and let out a laugh, his Adam’s apple bobbing in delight. Even his neck looked strong, corded with sinew, and brought back memories of …

Enough
.

The amused glimmer in his eyes was directed at her. “I’m just testing those political schmoozing skills you’ve acquired over the years.”

“I’ve never had to be politely social while being manhandled.”

“Doesn’t speak much to the imagination of your ex,” he said. “And Angel Face—” Memphis tipped his head “—if I was manhandling you, you’d know it.” He paused before he went on, and the timbre of his voice dropped to a level that resonated low in her belly. “And knowing you the way I do,” he said, his voice rough. “You’d probably enjoy it.”

The unsteady sensation increased significantly and she blinked hard, trying to smooth the turbulent emotional eddies curling in her veins. A cool demeanor was impossible to maintain when the frustratingly contrary and rebel man was around.

“Memphis,” she whispered fiercely, fighting for patience as she took a subtle step to the left, an unsuccessful attempt to remove her back from
his touch. “This is difficult enough as it is. So keep your hand in a respectable place and stop trying to sabotage my attempts at being social.”

The desperation in her tone must have pricked his interest. “Christ, Kate. Try to relax,” he said, dropping his hand and tipping his head with a skeptical curiosity. “It’s just a simple dinner. Why are you so uptight?”

“Maybe because this is my first social function since the divorce and I’m an object of scrutiny,” she said. “Maybe because you are deliberately trying to make me uncomfortable.” Frustration infused her tone as she shared more than she’d planned. “And maybe because I don’t know how to behave.”