3 Brides for 3 Bad Boys (13 page)

"One day soon, I'm going to see every pale peach inch of you."

She started at the sound of his voice and whirled back to face him. He was leaning against the desk again, his hair mussed, his expression downright feral.

Who would have thought the elegant, sophisticated owner of Sloane Electronics could look so primitive?

She didn't know what to say, but an atavistic shudder shook her. Even as she reacted to that look on the most basic level, she was appalled with herself and horribly embarrassed by the way she had reacted to a simple kiss and some light petting.

It just went to show that six years without sex had left her extremely vulnerable. "I'm sorry."

"What the hell for?"

"I sort of went crazy, and all you wanted to do was kiss me."

"Didn't you notice me going a little crazy, too?" He ran his fingers through dark brown hair. "If anyone should apologize, it should be me, but I'm not sorry."

"Why aren't you? All you wanted was a kiss, and we practically made love on top of my desk."

His eyelids lowered, and the expression on his face was nothing short of predatory. "We were a long way from making love, but I'd be happy to demonstrate the difference."

She backed up a step, even though he hadn't moved. "That's not a good idea."

"Married people have sex, honey. Or didn't you know?" He was teasing her, but she didn't feel like laughing. "I know. I've been married, after all."

And she'd failed spectacularly at it, particularly the sex part. Of course, it hadn't helped that her husband had been a closet drug addict who had wanted a second income to support his habit more than he'd wanted a plain Jane wife.

Carter jerked as if startled. "Your personnel record doesn't show that."

She glared at him. "You've been reading my personnel file?"

"I own the company." He didn't look in the least repentant for invading her privacy like that. "I'm allowed."

She crossed her arms over her chest and sucked in a breath at the friction against her still aroused nipples. "That remains to be seen."

His smile was so sexy, it was lethal, but then it faded, and he was frowning again. "When were you married?"

"I got married when I was twenty."

"It doesn't say anything about it in your file."

"I never included him on my insurance or anything, so there's no reason why it should."

"When did you divorce?"

"We didn't."

She watched, fascinated, as all the color drained from Carter's face.
"You're
married?"

"My husband died on our second anniversary." He'd overdosed on heroin while at a party with his drug-using friends.

He'd forgotten it was their anniversary, or more likely simply hadn't cared.

Anyway, he hadn't been with her, and after two years married to a man whose moods were drug induced, she hadn't minded at all.

His death had been sad, but she hadn't grieved like a woman in love should.

"I'm sorry." Carter looked as though he really meant it.

She shrugged. "I am, too. He was too young to die like he did."

Carter didn't look much better than he had a minute before. "Are you still grieving for him?"

"No."

Her marriage had been a mistake, but she would have tried to make it work, tried to get Jack help.

She hadn't gotten the chance. End of story.

Carter's smile was back in full force, and she about staggered under the impact.

"So, you're totally free to marry me."

The room grew black around the edges, and she stumbled backward until she fell into a chair beside the door to her office.
"What?"

"I'm being pretty abrupt about this, aren't I?" Carter tugged at his tie until it was loose enough to pull off over his head. Then he unbuttoned the top two buttons on his dress shirt, and she wanted to ask him to undo more.

She stomped on the urge and simply nodded in answer to his question. She'd say abrupt about covered it.

He sighed and ran his long fingers through his hair again. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay." Her voice was faint, but at least it worked.

Which was a miracle when she considered all she'd been through in the last half hour.

Carter adjusted himself just like some jock teenager and then grimaced. "Look, honey, we need to talk, but I've got to take a shower. I'm a mess."

He indicated the front of his suit pants that couldn't hide the wet spot, despite their dark color.

She blushed and hastily looked away.

He laughed. "You're a case, you know that?"

She shrugged, suddenly realizing she wasn't all that comfortable between her legs herself.

She looked back at him, keeping her gaze strictly on his face this time. "I guess I could use a shower, too."

"Want to share?" he asked with a lot more seriousness than she could handle.

"No." Was that Minnie Mouse voice hers? She never squeaked. She wasn't the type.

Pragmatic. Practical. Plain. The three
ps
that described her perfectly. Another
p.

"Are you sure about that?" The sensual promise in his voice made her insides melt, but she kept a stiff upper lip and shook her head.

"Okay. Get your stuff and I'll drive you home."

"I have my car."

"I don't. Mine is in the shop."

"You need a ride home?" she asked.

Is that why he'd come to her office? No. He'd said he wanted to kiss her. She was pretty sure most men didn't feel the need to pay for a ride home with a kiss, even ones as sexy as Carter Sloane.

"I need a ride to your house, where we will both take showers and then we will talk."

"You want to use my shower?"

"Yes, now don't start asking the same questions over again. I don't think I can take it. Just lead me to
your car, all right?"

"What if I don't want you to come home with me?"

He moved over to her and dropped on his haunches in front of her, then tilted her chin up with his fingertip. The touch was gentle, and his expression was more tender than she'd ever seen it. Not that she'd seen it all that often.

They didn't exactly move in the same circle.

"Then I'd have to convince you otherwise."

"This is really weird, Carter."

"Not from where I'm standing."

"You're nuts." Her hand flew to her mouth. He might have kissed her stupid and right into a mind-blowing orgasm, but he was still the man who owned the company she worked for.

"Not so much anymore."

"What does that mean?" Talking to him was like talking to a Chinese puzzle.

Nothing made sense to her.

"Nothing important." He laid his hand on her knee. "Will you take me home with you so we can talk?"

"About marriage?" She had to ask. It was too incredible a concept for her to accept with equanimity.

"About a proposition I have for you that includes marriage."

Which cleared up a whole lot less than it muddled in her brain.

C h a p t e r T h r e e

C
arter and Daisy both stopped beside the driver's side door of her yellow Xterra.

He put his hand out for the keys.

She stared at it like it was a snake threatening to bite her. "What?"

"The keys." He was feeling pretty uncomfortable at the moment, and he wanted to get to her house and the shower.

He was also hoping that after they discussed his proposition and she agreed to it he could convince her to let him kiss her again … and a whole lot more.

The sooner they got to her house, the sooner he'd have his lips on hers again.

She shook her head. "Nobody drives my Xterra but me."

"You'll have to make an exception to the rule because I don't let anyone else drive me. Period."

"No." She pressed the unlock button.

He heard a snick as the lock buttons popped up.

"Look, Daisy, I'm serious about this."

Two small fists landed on hips just meant for a man's hands to cradle, and her expression turned downright mean. "So am I. If you want a ride, get in the car.

Otherwise you can catch a taxi."

She didn't mean that.

She tapped her foot and looked meaningfully down at his trousers. He followed her gaze and ground his teeth. No way in Hades was he calling a taxi in this condition.

"I don't like other people driving me," he bit out, trying again to get through to her stubborn little brain.

"I'll make you like it."

"This isn't a joke."

She got all vulnerable and wounded looking, and he wanted to punch something. How did women do that? "And kissing me was?"

"No, of course not. Did it feel like a joke when you were screaming like a banshee in my ear?"

She averted her face, embarrassed … again. He wondered how long that attitude would last once he got her in his bed on a regular basis.

"You told me you'd make me like your tongue, and I believed you."

"No, you didn't. You made me promise to stop if you hit my shoulder."

She shrugged, her sweet curves bouncing a little and scattering most of his concentration and pretty much all of his annoyance. "I still let you kiss me."

"That was more than a kiss." It was important to him that she acknowledge what had happened was bigger than that.

"Yes, it was."

"So, let's go to your house so we can talk and explore where some more kissing might lead us." And get him out of his clothes. Yeah, getting naked sounded really good.

She turned her head. "I drive."

He rolled his eyes. "N—"

"I told you I'd make you like it." She winked, and he lost it.

What was left of his righteous man-in-control-being-thwarted-by-a-sexy-little-termagant anger melted right out of him, and he laughed out loud. "Promise?"

She grinned, looking so cute he had to lean down and kiss her. Just once. Full on the lips.

He stepped back, and she gave him a dazed smile. "I promise."

He got in the passenger seat for the first time since he was eighteen.

Daisy lived in a renovated Victorian-era farmhouse on the outskirts of New Hope.

The bright white exterior with wine trim and neatly manicured lawn fit her personality. Organized. Shy. Always well-groomed. It had been a toss-up for personnel whether to get her on the accounting track or marketing. Marketing had won by a very small margin.

She had creativity, but it was mixed with the mind of a bean counter, perfect for the marketing department.

She smiled as she parked her Xterra in the attached garage. "Did I make you like it?"

He took his white-knuckled grip off the dashboard and tried to think of something to say that wouldn't hurt her feelings. "You don't drive like I expected you to."

Sedate and carefully, like the woman who had edged her lawn with perfect precision should do.

One dark, shapely eyebrow cocked over her twinkling eye. "What does that mean?"

"Heck, Daisy, you drive like Mario Andretti on speed."

Far from looking hurt, she giggled. "I know. It's my only vice."

She pressed the button to lower the garage door and then got out of the car.

He followed her, his adrenaline pumping every bit as hard as it had been on the desk in her office. "It's a dangerous vice. I don't want you speeding anymore."

"I didn't open it up until we were on the highway."

"It doesn't matter. Driving like that is going to get you killed."

She stopped at the door to the outside and turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest just like she had in her office. "How I drive is none of your business."

"It will be." And he'd make darn sure she did it safely or got chauffeured everywhere from here on out.

Her chin went so high in the air, he didn't know how she could see where she was going as she turned back around. "That remains to be seen."

Her hips swayed just enough to make him twitch with renewed sexual interest as they walked through the garage into the house.

Arguing with her turned him on. Big-time. Being with her at all did it, too. Heck, if he were honest with himself, and he usually was, he had to admit it took only thinking about her to get a hard-on that could double as a flagpole.

She led him to a guest bathroom. One entire wall had been painted to look like a plate glass window with a view of an old-fashioned rose garden. It looked so real, he could practically smell the flowers, and then he realized she had a bowl of dried rose petals on the back of the toilet.

The other walls were a soft wine color, and the countertop of burgundy tile shone as if she'd just polished it. From what he'd seen of the rest of her house on the way through, it was all done with the same eye for color and artistic appeal.

No way could she afford an interior designer on her salary.

His eyes wandered back to the mural on the wall. "It's beautiful. Who painted it?"

"I did."

He spun to face her. "You did? It's amazing." And it explained how beautifully put together her house was.

Her chocolate brown eyes warmed with pleasure. "Thanks."

"I think you might be wasted in my marketing department."

She shook her head vehemently. "This kind of stuff is fun as a hobby. If you made it my job, I'd get bored with it. Besides, I like working for Sloane Electronics."

They were going to have to talk about that.

She might find it uncomfortable to keep her current position when she became his wife.

Taking a lot for granted, aren't you, buddy?

Not nearly as much as he wanted to.

"The towel on the shower rack is fresh."

Of course it was. "Thanks."

"I'll just let you take your shower, then."