Boiling Point (Crossing the Line #3)

All right. Time to face facts. He was a bloody idiot. Yes, he’d found what Polly needed in bed and made sure she received it, but she wasn’t a mark he could overwhelm with sex and expect her trust to follow. Even if he could accomplish such a feat, he didn’t want the kind of blind, gullible trust from Polly that he’d won from women in the past with so little effort. No. The idea of it made him queasy. Earning her trust was the key, and the opportunity to prove himself worthy lay just ahead. His final con.

The older lady stopped and resumed her direction-giving one more time, but Austin had been safe tuning her out considering he knew exactly where Saint Paul’s was located.

“Father, if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind if I walked with you a ways? My friend Jean is sitting in the park over yonder and she could use some counsel. She’ll tell you she doesn’t, but trust me. She’s a damn wreck and I know I shouldn’t swear in front of a man of God, but I—”

“Lead the way,” Austin interrupted gently. “I’m on God’s time. And God’s time belongs to the people.”

She pressed a hand to her bosom. “Thank you, Father. Now, I’ll just fill you in on the way over…”

Austin actually had to bite down on his tongue as they passed Polly where she placed a breakfast order, for fear he would shout at her for leaving Chicago without a word. Honestly. When had he become so irrational? Or he might have just shouted at her for looking so edible in a red-and-white polka-dot dress when he couldn’t get his fucking hands on her. God, the things he would do to her right now. Probably best to hold off on images of tongue-fucking Polly while dressed as a priest, however. A hard-on might be a touch difficult to explain.

When he heard Polly placing her order, however, he couldn’t resist reaching into his pocket and dropping the contents onto her table.

...

“It’s the strangest thing,” Polly’s father said, drumming his fingers on the table as he perused the menu. “I can’t find our Fullings’ verbena mint tea anywhere now. It’s like it up and disappeared off the face of the earth.”

The waiter stood to Polly’s left, pen scratching down their orders as her father sighed in disappointment that their tea wasn’t listed. “Yeah. Something like that,” she muttered, wishing little reminders of Austin—such as his epic tea-bag hoarding efforts—would stop popping up. “I’ll have coffee instead, please.”

“Me, too,” Drake said, handing his menu back to the waiter.

Polly followed suit, smiling when they were alone again. “So. Have you forgiven me for surprising you?”

“You know I hate surprises. There’s a reason people have phones and calendars and phones.” Her father reached across the table and tapped her hand in reproof. “Would it have killed you to call ahead? The guest room hasn’t been dusted in months.”

“I’m not staying.” She had to look away from his disappointment. “I can’t stay. I have to get back to work tomorrow.”

“On a Saturday?”

Well. She hadn’t really thought that one through, had she? Not that many nuggets of wisdom had been forthcoming since she’d made the decision to break up with Chicago for the day. The farther she’d gotten from Chicago, the worse the drilling in her middle had become. A little crew of tinkers chipped away at her stomach lining with tiny pickaxes, singing merrily through her misery. It had taken her a few hours to clue in to the problem, but her humorless laughter had rung out inside the borrowed car when the reason for her anxious feelings became obvious.

These were withdrawals. She was addicted to Austin. And God, she wished it were just the sex. Because, by all things holy, the man was criminally talented. Putting on her underwear, showering, tying her shoelaces. All these actions had taken on new significance. Every action felt like preparation. Would he call her “mistress” next time? Or would he be too desperate to allow games?

What would it feel like when he held her?

She wanted the promised holding almost as much as the epic, leg-shaking orgasm that would surely precede it. I can’t think of anything but you. She still couldn’t believe those words had come out of Austin’s mouth. Even more unbelievable, they could have come straight out of hers.