Degrees of Passion (13 page)

‘You’re staring,’ he observed.

‘Am I?’ Even to her own ears, her voice sounded breathy. ‘Sorry, I’m –’ she swooped her hand over her head with a short laugh ‘– spacey today. I didn’t drink my normal vat of coffee this morning.’

‘Hm,’ was all he said, as he turned back to the broken pottery to begin preparing it for storage.

‘So, about studying,’ Sasha prompted. ‘What do you say?’

‘I promised my uncle I’d help him around the building tonight, but I can later. Say nine o’clock?’

‘Perfect!’ Sasha cleared her throat, realizing how eager she sounded. She glanced up at the clock, thankful to see it was close to lunchtime. ‘I should make the food run. Prichard will be back soon. The man never misses a meal.’

Kevin thought it peculiar that, after he’d decided to keep Sasha at arm’s length, she seemed to warm towards him. It wasn’t just her words, but her eyes. They’d softened, carrying an inquisitive probing in their depths. What exactly was she looking for when she studied him like that? And, more importantly, did she know the effect those sexy dark-blue eyes had on him?

He glanced around his apartment, wondering if the smell of apples and cinnamon was too obvious a seduction. Kevin could have gone the route of seductive music and candles, but he thought to employ a subtle approach – fresh baked apple cinnamon strudel, a couple perfect bottles of wine and the subtle scent of his favorite cologne if she happened to lean too close.

Sasha admitted she no longer dated Trevor Kingston. This was Kevin’s chance to get to know her better. OK, so that wasn’t the full truth. He did want to get to know her and, though he wanted to take it slow this time and do it right, he unquestionably wanted more than a simple friendship. He wanted to undress her, kiss her, touch her, make love to her until their bodies were spent. He wanted to hear her laughter, see the light of admiration and respect in her gaze when she looked at him. He wanted to learn the mysteries of her thoughts, hear whatever secrets she kept. He wanted her to say she cared for him, perhaps even that she loved him.

Love?

Kevin didn’t put much trust in love and he didn’t wish to delve too deeply into why he wanted it from her. Sasha beguiled him. She occupied his thoughts and filled his fantasies. Maybe that was his problem. He’d thought about her so much he’d convinced himself he wanted more than just an affair of the flesh.

Sitting on the couch, he kept an eye on the clock. When he set the study session, he made sure to give himself plenty of time to take a shower after helping his uncle. He ran his fingers through his damp hair. Already, it was nine o’clock.

Kevin reached for his bag, pulling out a couple textbooks and arranging them on the coffee table along with a notebook and pens. The second the minute hand ticked past nine, a knock sounded on his door. He smiled. Sasha.

He unconsciously smoothed his jeans and black polo shirt. The clothes were purposefully casual – not trying-too-hard like a suit, but chosen for the way they moulded to his frame. The knock sounded again, shorter than before. He found himself hesitating as he walked to answer.

His hand trembled nervously as he pulled the lock and opened the door. Sasha smiled at him, her happy expression shining in her eyes. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and had changed from her earlier outfit to a white T-shirt and long black hooded cardigan. He couldn’t help wondering if she’d purposefully chosen the casual look to seduce him. If she had, it was definitely working.

Kevin resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. Instead, he stepped back, allowing her access to his home. She pulled the strap to her messenger bag over her head as she strolled past. The soft fragrance of flowers drifted behind her, tempting his nose into taking a deeper breath.

‘Your apartment is as clean as I vaguely remember it being,’ she said conversationally. ‘Must be your lack of roommates. I swear I’m about to throw my roomie, Lulu, out the window she loves so much.’

Kevin chuckled, not really understanding her reference, but not caring what she talked about so long as she kept smiling at him. ‘Growing up, my mom always hurried to clean the house before company came over so the place always looked deceivingly immaculate. With four sons, she usually had a mess on her hands and we all learned to speed clean to help her out. Now that I live alone, it’s become a habit.’

‘So you did all this because I was coming over?’ She chuckled, as if the very idea amused her.

‘Would it insult you if I said no?’ Kevin led the way to his living room where he’d set up the books for studying. The lights were on, perfectly illuminating the atmosphere. ‘I’m hardly around to make a mess.’

Her smile widened. ‘Did you bake?’

‘Hungry?’ He turned direction, leading into the kitchen instead. Kevin had seen the way she ate, healthy to the point of boring, her eyes always warring with the pastries and fried foods the others at Project Aztec ordered. He wondered if she’d refuse.

‘Yes, actually I am. What is that? Baked apples?’ She followed close behind. ‘I wasn’t until I walked inside. A man who cooks and cleans. Your mom must be so proud.’

‘She is.’

‘And your dad?’ Sasha leaned against the granite counter, her gaze straying to the plate he’d set out. She made no move to take a pastry.

‘He passed away when I was seven.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. How?’

‘Heart attack.’ Kevin lifted the plate, offering her a pastry. ‘Strudel?’

‘You know what, I’m good.’ She shook her head in denial. ‘I don’t like to eat this close to bedtime.’

‘Bedtime?’ Kevin chuckled, endeavoring to keep his expression light, even as he purposefully manipulated her into eating. ‘What are we? Five? Besides, we have a lot of ground to cover if we’re going to get through even half of the Aztec gods.’

‘All right.’ She gingerly lifted a pastry from the plate between two fingers. ‘How did you have time to make this? I thought you had to help your uncle.’

‘They baked while I worked.’

Sasha closed her eyes as she took a small bite. ‘Mm.’

‘Glad you approve.’ He carried the plate into the living room.

‘Your father must have been really young. You normally don’t think of young men having heart attacks.’ The caring in her tone and compassion in her face forced him to look away. She sat down on the chair, perching near the edge as she leaned forwards. ‘Or did they have children later in life?’

Kevin sat on the couch. ‘He was twenty years older than my mom, but I have never known two people so in love. Mom was raised by middle upper-class socialite wannabes. They were not pleased when their precious Taffy married the blue-collar Neil Merchant.’ He gave a short laugh. His mother’s parents weren’t really in their lives. ‘My grandparents disowned my mom. I don’t know too much about them except what my uncle tells me. She still gets sad about it, but always told us growing up that she never once questioned her decision. My father was her soul mate.’

‘So, you said you have four brothers?’ Her hand dropped, holding the half-eaten pastry as if she’d forgotten all about it while she listened to him. ‘I almost feel bad that I didn’t ask about your family before now.’

Kevin hid his excitement at the small confession, unsure why he should be enthused by it. ‘Three. I make four.’

‘Where are they? Here in the city?’

‘After my father died, my mother moved us from Iowa to Upstate New York to be near his parents. Grandma and Grandpa Merchant own a bed-and-breakfast and raise horses. They were a big part of our lives growing up. We moved in with them until they finished renovations on a small farmhouse next to theirs for my mother. Since my dad was an only child, they doted on us boys.’ He paused in his story, glancing up at her. ‘Am I boring you? Did you really want to hear all this, or were you just being polite?’

‘Do I strike you as a just being polite person?’ She laughed.

‘Actually, you do.’

‘Well, that’s sweet of you to say, but I generally only ask questions I want answered.’ Sasha smiled, lifting her pastry to take another bite. ‘You were going to tell me about your brothers.’

‘Michael’s the oldest. He’s a furniture salesman, buys up estate stuff.’

Sasha ran her hand over the arm of the chair. ‘That would explain how you got all this great stuff.’

‘You’ve discovered my secret. My uncle’s apartment, my brother’s furniture.’ He chuckled, not as self-conscious as he thought he would be admitting such a thing. She was used to her rich boyfriend. Kevin was a man who lived on borrowed things. ‘Someday I’ll have my own possessions.’

Sasha waved a dismissing hand. ‘You’re in college working towards your future. There’s nothing wrong with having family help. I’ve been living on my family’s food, my mother’s laundry services and my sisters’ clothes.’

He couldn’t help it as his gaze drifted down to her shirt, pausing on her breasts before sweeping back up. Desire always burned just beneath his body’s surface whenever she was near. If she noticed his heated perusal, she didn’t let on.

‘It’s funny,’ she said in between bites. ‘Your family is the opposite of mine. I have nothing but sisters, you have nothing but brothers. Does your mom bug all of you to get married to give her girls? I think my mom is just waiting for graduation to pounce on me and demand I find a man. Although I might have them convinced I’m doomed to be an eternal college student and a spinster.’

‘They don’t know about . . . ?’ Kevin didn’t want to say the man’s name. Talking about her ex wasn’t exactly where he wanted this conversation to go.

‘I don’t discuss my relationships with them. If you had sisters you’d understand. They meddle and ask questions and tease and . . .’ She shrugged. ‘It’s just easier to keep some things to yourself.’

‘That’s a little sad if you ask me. You should be able to talk to your family about such things. If not them, who else?’

‘Hey, quit trying to change the subject,’ she warned, her eyes playful. ‘We’re talking about your family. Tell me about the rest of your brothers.’

Kevin didn’t pry, sensing she didn’t want to have to explain her reasoning. Instead, he easily continued telling her about his family – of how Michael was married to Mary and how he always teased them because their names sounded very cutesy together. The second oldest Samuel worked on the ranch with their grandparents. He was single and planned to always stay that way. Oliver was the baby. He’d married young and travelled all over the US working as an environmentalist with his new-age wife, Serabelle.

‘Serabelle is very much into reading auras, tarot cards, communing with spirits.’ Kevin reached for one of the books on the table and flipped it open. ‘My mother loves her and so would never admit that such new-age things freak her out. She’s more grounded. I don’t think she puts much stock in spirits and psychics.’

‘Must be nice,’ she drawled. ‘Serabelle and my mother would get along great.’ She followed his lead, reaching forwards, but instead of a book she tore the corner of one of the pastries and popped it into her mouth.

‘I like studying such things from an anthropologist’s perspective seeing how such beliefs help to form and shape culture.’

Sasha’s eyes focused on him. ‘You really know what you want out of your future, don’t you? I envy that.’

If you only knew what I really wanted, Kevin thought, watching her in return.

‘Do you think you’ll work in an academic setting after you graduate?’ She leaned in to steal another bite.

‘I’d love to work directly with a dig site, some exotic location where I can spend my days outside, then maybe eventually settle with a museum where I can write a couple books in my old age about my adventurous life.’ Kevin stiffened in surprise as he realized how much he’d told her. He didn’t really discuss his dreams of the future with anyone, at least not anyone who wasn’t family.

‘You didn’t mention a family in that scenario. Not planning to get married, have kids, the whole white picket fence thing?’

Was she probing? Kevin wasn’t sure what to say, so he answered as honestly as he could, ‘At this exact moment? No, I’m not planning a wedding. It’s hard to imagine there being many women who want that kind of life. There isn’t much room for white picket fences in deserts and jungles.’

‘I’m so lost when it comes to my future.’ Her gaze moved down to his hands where he held the book. Mistaking the gesture for a hint, she quickly grabbed her own book. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you the third degree about your life. I know you’re taking time away from that life to help me out with Prichard.’ She flipped the book open, but didn’t really read it. ‘Where should we start? I have no clue what he’ll ask me next. The man has a random pattern of questioning that I can’t figure out.’

‘I thought we could start with some of the Aztec gods. That’s what I’ve been reviewing. I’ve written up a list of those mentioned in some of Prichard’s published papers on the subject. He seems to ask questions relating to what he’s written about. It’s as close to a pattern as I have for him.’

‘That works. He hasn’t quizzed me about gods yet.’ Sasha leafed through the pages. ‘You know, I never understood that expression, giving the third degree.’

‘It came from the days when authorities used torture to extract information or a confession, later being applied to a particularly rough police interrogation or verbal grilling.’ He really didn’t put much thought into his answer. How could he? She’d shifted her body and the way her jeans hugged her upper thigh had caught his attention. He pretended to look at the book, but in his peripheral vision he traced the thick seam down her leg and back up again. ‘It actually refers to a an old Masonic rite that—’

‘Wow,’ she interrupted. ‘There’s that photographic memory again. Do you even know how intimidating you must be to women? I wondered why you don’t have a girlfriend, but that brain of yours explains it. You’re smart, handsome, a hard worker with career prospects. You have your own place and can cook.’ To prove her point, she took the piece of strudel she’d been picking at and took a proper bite. ‘But who could possibly keep you interested intellectually? The woman would have to be a walking encyclopedia with internet hook-up.’