chapter EIGHT
“I WANT YOU to be careful around Dr. Coleman.”
Reclining on a blanket in the park, half-asleep in the warmth of the sun, Chloe wasn’t sure she’d heard Brad correctly. She half sat up, resting her weight on her elbows. “I beg your pardon?”
“You talked about learning how to … flirt.” It seemed like he’d had to push that word out between clenched teeth. “He’s not the man to try that with.”
A quick flutter of something went through her, similar to the one she’d felt on the trip over. Brad had been right. Riding through the countryside on his motorcycle had been nothing like riding in city traffic. It had been exhilarating.
“And why is that?”
He lifted his wineglass to his lips and observed her for a second. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again. And I think he’s capable of doing just that.”
Chloe disagreed, but didn’t say anything. “So who would be a safer choice? You?”
“No.”
The abrupt word took her aback. “Really? Why not?” The words were out before she could stop them. Did she really want to know the answer?
“I don’t flirt.”
Wow. “Ever?”
“Not the harmless stuff you’re talking about. When I’m interested in a woman, she knows it. And she knows exactly where I want it to lead.”
A shiver went over her as she pictured those mirrors in his room. She assumed he wasn’t talking about marriage.
What would it be like to have a man like Brad put the moves on her? The closest she’d ever gotten had been at her wedding. And she’d just about convinced herself that those events had been fabricated by an overactive imagination. “So you can’t be friendly with a woman unless you plan on sleeping with her?”
“‘Can’t’ is not the word I’d choose.” Brad set his empty wineglass next to the box of food. “Let’s just say I’m not interested in wasting time playing games.”
Playing games? Stung, she snapped, “Forget I said anything. I think I’ll take my chances with Cade.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “Dammit, Chloe. Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said?”
“Yes. I heard you say you don’t flirt, so I’m back to where I started.”
His eyes narrowed. “You want to play games? Fine. Tell me what you have in mind.”
In all honesty, she wanted to know why she wasn’t worth his time. Did she want to wind up in bed with him—which was what he’d implied would happen if he showed his interest? No. But just for once she wanted to know what it would be like to have someone as dangerous as Brad pursue her with the intention of capturing her.
She shrugged. “I just don’t want to make a fool out of myself, that’s all.”
“With Coleman?”
“With anyone.”
“Okay, you’ve got a captive audience. So give it your best shot.”
“Right now?”
A slow smile curved his lips, and he leaned forward and drew his thumb along her cheekbone. “Right here, Chloe. Right now.”
Liquid heat ignited along the trail he’d left on her skin, and she could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Was he serious? She kept perfectly still as his touch continued to assault her senses, afraid that if she reacted she’d scare him off. She didn’t know exactly why he was willing to make an exception, but she was going to grab it with both hands. Because if she didn’t, she’d be back where she’d been when this had started: alone, with no hope of that ever changing.
“So where do you want to start?” What the hell had possessed him to agree to be her flirt buddy? Oh, he knew exactly what it was. Her veiled threat to involve Coleman. And the idea that Coleman would want her to be an altogether different kind of buddy.
His thoughts darkened. He’d told her the truth. He wasn’t into the light-hearted back-and-forth quips that seemed to go on for weeks while he waited for some vague green light that allowed him to move to the next stage. No, when he wanted sex, he chose a woman who was just as interested in getting to the point as he was. He had no desire to climb on the emotional roller-coaster that went along with relationships. Or to be trapped in a box with no way out.
Sex was sex and nothing more.
He instinctively knew the act meant much more to Chloe, though. It was the reason she’d saved that part of herself for marriage. And look what she’d gotten in exchange. Heartache and a man who’d had no qualms about taking what she’d offered and then tossing it aside when he was done.
Isn’t that what you do with women?
No. It was the reason he didn’t play around with innocents like Chloe. And why he didn’t want Coleman to either. She wasn’t a love ’em and leave ’em type of woman.
She’d stuck with Travis for six years, even though Jason said things had been bad for quite a while. For crying out loud, she hadn’t even been willing to get on the back of his motorcycle after he’d passed the last of his medical exams because she’d been afraid Travis might get the wrong idea. Oh, she hadn’t said it, but he’d seen the truth in her face. In the way the glow had faded from those beautiful baby blues.
So why was he allowing her to push him into doing this? He was not the right person for this particular job. He wasn’t accustomed to holding back when he wanted something.
And if he decided he wanted Chloe?
Not a chance. He was a big boy. He could do this with his eyes closed.
He propped himself on an elbow next to her and raised his brows. “So, let’s say we’re out on a date, and you wanted to let me know you’re interested. What would you do?” The image of her in that negligee passed briefly behind his eyelids. He chased it away with a muttered oath. She shrugged, staring down at the blanket.
He tilted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “This was your idea. Having second thoughts?”
“I don’t want you to make fun of me.”
“I’ve never felt less like laughing in my life.” On the contrary, a sick sense of anticipation was building inside him that he couldn’t will away as easily as he would have liked.
This girl was his best friend’s sister, for God’s sake.
“How will I know if I’m even doing it right?”
“I think I’ll be able to tell.” If the way his body had responded to having her behind him on the motorcycle was any indication, he wasn’t totally immune to her, despite his assertions to the contrary.
She moistened her lips, the soft bottom one glistening. “I think I’d rather just ask you questions and have you answer them.”
Even easier. “Okay. Fire away.”
“So …” Her voice dropped almost to a whisper and she hesitated for a second or two. “If you were here on a picnic with one of your dates, what would she do to hold your interest?”
One of his dates? He’d probably be sliding her panties down her thighs right about now.
Why did this game suddenly seem a little too dangerous?
And why was he all too eager to keep playing?
“Well …” He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something halfway chaste. “She might turn towards me so we were facing each other.”
There. See? Easy. He’d give her a couple of quick tips and they’d be on their way home.
Instead of nodding her head and continuing with her questions, Chloe shifted to the side until she was resting on one elbow just like he was. The position made the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip stand out in sharp relief. He couldn’t stop his eyes from following the line.
“Kind of like this?” she asked.
“Exactly like that.”
“Okay. What else?”
His body quickened. Hell, she’d wanted to know if it was working. A little too well, and she wasn’t even trying. And if she did?
Things could get out of hand. He should put a stop to this now, before she realized what she was doing to him. He was curious, though, to see how far she was willing to carry this little charade. He decided to push her. Maybe he could even scare her back into her shell.
“Well, she might sweep the hair off my forehead as she listens to me talk.” His voice seemed to be affected by the tightening of his throat, coming out a little rougher than he intended. That could work to his benefit, though.
Chloe seemed totally oblivious, however. She reached out and did as he suggested, sliding her fingers deep into his hair, lingering when she should have withdrawn. “You used to tug my hair all the time when I was a kid, remember?” At his nod, she ran her fingers through it again. “Yours is softer than I thought it would be.”
“Is it?” The tight sensation in his throat began to spread, reaching his chest, crawling along his abdomen and beyond. And she seemed to have no idea. Not good.
“This is really helping,” she murmured. “Thank you for agreeing.”
Yes. Thank you. His mind wasn’t nearly as happy as the rest of him was. It was currently kicking his ass from here to across the sea.
“Tell me what else I would do.”
As if he were a puppet—and he knew exactly what was pulling the strings, and it wasn’t his head—he kept digging a deeper hole. “Well, I might move a little closer.” He proceeded to do exactly that, sliding to within a few inches of where she lay. “Then I might stroke the side of her face, down her neck until I reached her shoulder.” His hand followed the route in time with his words.
As he touched her shoulder—he wasn’t even sure he’d applied any pressure to it at all—she lay back on the blanket, her eyes staring up at him. Waiting to see what was next on the agenda.
God help him, the words just seemed to keep coming. “Then … I might kiss her. Like this.”
With that, his head began its fatal descent, until his lips touched hers.
NYC Angels Flirting with Danger
Tina Beckett's books
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- Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong
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- What's Life Without the Sprinkles
- Every Second with You
- One Night with Her Ex
- Be with Me(Wait for You)
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