"Annie."
He pulled her against him, groaned at the feel of her warm, slender body, and fell upon her mouth, tasting her, filling himself with her, desperately trying to release the tension that had built up inside him, forcing that tight coil to spring free.
Yet somewhere from far within the deep recesses of his conscience, caution and control wormed their way forward.
He tore his mouth from hers. Lurched back from her. His breathing was ragged, his body consumed with a hunger that had never been so deep, so insistent. He dragged the back of his hand across his chin, staring at her. He'd only made matters worse for himself, he knew.
Not even a night in bed with Annie would satisfy him.
"I'm sorry," he said curtly.
Her eyebrows quirked up. "You are? I'm not. If I hadn't wanted you to kiss me, Garvin MacCrae, I'd have told you so. And if you hadn't listened, you'd be doubled over right now wishing you had. I've an effective move to the privates." She gestured toward the area in question. "You leave yourself open to such a blow."
"Annie, I swear—"
She curved an arm around his neck and kissed him softly, fervently. He heard her quiet moan deep in the back of her throat. Her mouth opened against his, and he wondered if she knew, if she had any idea what it took for him not to sweep her up and carry her down the walk to her apartment.
But there was Sarah.
There was whatever Annie Payne was hiding from him.
Yet her tongue, the taste of her, left him breathless, aching. When she finished, she searched his eyes, smiling as if she had total control of him and herself. "There. Now you know."
Garvin wasn't sure he knew anything.
"I wanted that kiss as much as you did, Garvin MacCrae. And took from it as much as you."
He smiled back, just a hint of what lay beneath the surface. "So you think."
That stopped her. She drew back, not so smug. Her shawl dusted the ground. "And I know where to find you," she said. "If I need you, I'll be in touch. Good night."
"My best to Otto," he said, and headed for his car before his desire to have Annie Payne in his bed overtook his common sense.
Or hers did.
* * *
Chapter Six
Annie sniffed a jar of something that looked like dryer fuzz that Zoe had brought over just before closing late Tuesday afternoon. "I don't smell anything."
"But how do you feel?"
"Harassed, but I felt harassed before you walked in."
Zoe groaned, snatching the jar away. "You're impossible."
"I'm sorry. Let me try again."
"Only if you'll tell me if that was Cynthia Linwood in here after lunch."
Annie gave a mock frown. "Who's doing whom the favor here?"
"It was," Zoe said, thrusting the jar back under Annie's nose. "Garvin MacCrae, Cynthia Linwood. You're certainly getting around, my friend."
"Apple pie."
"What?"
"The smell. It's apple pie."
"No, it's not."
Annie laughed. "Why do you keep having me smell stuff if you're always going to argue with me?"
Zoe screwed the cap back on the jar. "Because I'm ever amazed at what an untrained sense of smell comes up with. Apple pie. Good God."
"Well, what is it?"
"Essential oil of juniper with a touch of vanilla. I drizzled it over raw cotton, just for fun. The vanilla must have triggered your apple pie response. It's the only thing I can figure. But how on earth could apple pie make you feel harassed?"
"It didn't. My day did. And there's no vanilla in apple pie."
"Yes, but it has a similar nostalgic scent." Zoe plopped down on Annie's high swivel chair. Business was slow on Tuesday. "Did she buy anything?"
"Who?" At Zoe's long-suffering sigh, Annie said, "Oh. Cynthia Linwood. No, she just stopped in to see my gallery. I met her at Winslow's last night. "She'd already provided Zoe with a detailed account of the opening that morning over corn muffins. Zoe, of course, had accused Annie of willfully leaving out crucial details about her and Garvin MacCrae, which she had. "She seems nice enough. I think she's curious about the painting I bought at the auction."
"Well, who isn't?" But she became serious. "Cynthia Linwood's in a position to really help you, you know. All she has to do is recommend you to her friends, and you won't have to worry about paying the rent. Our miserly landlord might even be forced to hire someone to keep up the courtyard." She leaned forward, peering at Annie. "You have dark circles under your eyes, kid. Up late pondering Garvin MacCrae?"
For sure, Annie thought. "Zoe, last night was not a date."
"Doesn't keep a body from staying up late pondering." She slid off the stool and grabbed up her concoction. "But you're already feeling harassed, so I'll leave you alone. Go home and take a hot orange blossom bath, get some sleep."
"I was going to take Otto for a run on the beach."