Part 9 (2/2)
Kiss him or hit him?
Her fingers flexed tighter on the sun-hot expanse of cotton across his chest. The rapid thunder of his heartbeat thrummed against her knuckles.
Yeah, she wanted to hit him, but dammit-she wanted to kiss him more.
”Can I do both?” The unfamiliar shot of l.u.s.t-tinged huskiness in her voice p.r.i.c.kled her scalp.
A glimmer of straight, white teeth. ”Be my guest.”
She tilted forward, rose on tiptoes to counteract the height difference. Angled her chin and contemplated, with a sucked in breath, his full, firm lips shadowed by short whiskers. His intoxicating scent of suns.h.i.+ne, freshly laundered cotton and male musk fuddled her reasons for resistance.
One simple kiss. What could it hurt?
Her eyelids slid shut as her mouth found the small hollow between his lips and chin, the warmth of his skin and the sc.r.a.pe of stubble sending a tingle down to her boot-clad toes. Coa.r.s.e hair changed to the smooth texture of his mouth. He inhaled with a hiss, his fingers contracting on her arms. That she had any power to affect him caused a smile to quiver on her lips.
But when she pressed her mouth to his with a breathy sigh, everything known and controllable in her world spun off its axis, sucking her into a vortex she'd no hope of escaping. One simple kiss? Something must've shorted in her brain, because this kiss tap-danced all over simple.
His hand skimmed up her shoulder, spread across her nape into a possessive hold. A tug on her hip sent her lower body colliding into his obvious arousal. Demanding a response, his tongue darted into her mouth, retreated, returned and lingered. Her fingers slid around his neck and tangled in his silky hair, and she clung, even as her mind rebelled against total surrender.
She pulled back with a gasp for air and a plea. ”Nate.”
He lightened his grip, and the hand on her hip clenched once in denial then sprang open, allowing her to step out of his arms.
Lauren bent to pick up her gear, her blood hammering. A car engine grew louder in the still air, severing the silence. Java appeared from the shade of the house and trotted over.
”That sounds like Kathy's car.”
She turned toward him, but he'd already moved away to stand on the other side of his Range Rover.
By the time her sister-in-law's car came into view, Nate's gaze refused to settle anywhere near her face. His expression betrayed nothing, as if they'd shared a casual conversation about the weather, instead of locking lips. Had she really done that? Twined around him like ivy? She'd fraternized with the enemy when she should've been thinking about ways to derail Nate's plans.
The phone call to her lawyer last week confirmed her worst suspicions. Nate Fraser could pretty much do whatever he liked with his land. He could build a theme park on it, if the idea fired his rockets. A dark notion flitted across her brain-could she stoop to seduction to change his mind?
He leaned against the Rover, thumbs hooked nonchalantly in his belt loops, and she dismissed the thought. Who was she kidding? She had no leverage to use when a kiss that'd curled her toes left him cool and unruffled. He held all the cards and kept them close to his chest. No bold seductress-she didn't have the s.e.xual ruthlessness to twist his will around her little finger. And if Nate knew she'd once allowed her husband to twist her will around his finger...
Well, he wouldn't have challenged her to kiss him in the first place.
”Mummy, I wanna show you my picture before we go back to Aunty Kathy's,” Drew shouted from the open window the moment Kathy's car came to a stop.
Lauren scooped her son out of his car seat and settled him on her hip, hiding the heat of her face in his paint-smeared hair. ”You had fun with paints at preschool today?”
”He's talked of nothing else since I picked him up.” Kathy chuckled as she and Sophie exited the car.
”Look!” Drew shoved a rumpled sheet of art paper under her nose to recapture her attention. ”It's Superman.”
Bold, primary blue and red splashed across the paper. A wobbly gold ”S” was smeared on the figure's chest, and a brushstroke of brown paint jutted from Superman's forehead. A cowlick. Nate's cowlick.
”Such bright colors, sweetie.” She forced enthusiasm into her tone. ”You put a lot of work into this picture.”
”Now I wanna show Nate.” He wriggled down, s.n.a.t.c.hed his artwork from her limp hand and skipped away.
Oh, G.o.d. Her gaze flew to Nate, but he watched her son's approach with studied neutrality. Don't let him hurt Drew's feelings and don't let him read anything into a four-year-old's hero wors.h.i.+p. She took a step after Drew, but her leg muscles trembled like she'd run a marathon.
Kathy laid a hand on her arm and whispered, ”It'll be okay.”
Nate accepted the picture, Drew hopping from foot to foot beside him. Nate crouched at the same level as her son and touched a finger to the page. ”You've got an eye for detail, kid. I like how you've made Superman's arms big and strong.” His gaze flicked to hers. ”Strong enough to sweep Lois Lane off her feet.”
Drew fisted his hands on his hips and wrinkled his nose. ”Strong enough to beat the bad guys, you mean.”
”That too.” Nate stood and handed back the picture. ”He's the Man of Steel.”
Sophie ran to Drew's side and pointed to the Range Rover's roof. ”Is that your camera?”
”Yep.”
Drew yanked on the pocket of Nate's jeans. ”Can I see?”
Lauren's breath caught. ”Drew, Sophie, I don't think you sh-”
”Sure you can.” Nate shot her a simmering look. ”You could take a photo of your mum if you promise to be careful. How about we give Superman to your aunty to keep safe?”
After handing the picture over, Drew clapped his hands and bounced on his toes. Nate lifted his camera down and draped the strap around her son's neck. He squatted behind Drew, tucked her boy against his big body and supported the camera with one hand, while Drew wrapped his tiny fists on either side.
Lauren's chest constricted. The less cynical part of her wanted to believe his actions were plain kindness, rather than a calculated move to weasel into her good graces. But then, why would he bother?
”This is the camera's eye. It's called the viewfinder, and what you see in there is what you'll take a photo of.” Nate kept the camera steady and pointed it at her.
Drew beamed. ”There's Mummy!”
”She's frowning.” Sophie rested an arm on Nate's shoulder. Anyone would think he had his own brood of kids; he was so good with them. ”Come on Aunty Lauren, say 'hanky-panky.'”
Lauren's face flamed, imagining hanky-panky-ing with Nate, even as Sophie explained, ”My dad says that to get her to smile in photos.”
”She's still not smiling.” Indignation rang in Drew's tone. ”She's just going red.”
Lauren peeled back her lips in a parody of a smile, while Nate guided Drew's finger to the shutter release.
”I took a picture all by myself,” Drew crowed. ”Mummy, come look.”
Nate tilted his head as she approached, his eyes crinkling in the corners. Bet he knew exactly what she'd imagined. She glanced at the image of her flushed face and made encouraging noises at Drew, all the time clenching her jaw to prevent herself from demanding he delete the photo of her. Drew would be devastated.
Nate repeated the process with Sophie and captured a shot of Kathy mugging for the camera.
”We'd better get back to work,” Lauren interjected as the kids tried to coax Java into posing as their next model, ”and you two will want afternoon tea at Aunty Kathy's before it's too close to dinner time.”
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