Lie to Me (15 page)

His heart did a strange little flip.  Even as flu-grogged as he was, he couldn’t help but feel warmth slide through him at her caring.  Dee Miller might be all caustic tongue and attitude, but she was also known for her kindness.  He’d seen it first hand - the way she made soup for the sick, checked on the elderly in their homes with a phone call when she knew their families were away, and made sure old Vince got a daily newspaper even though he never paid for it because he often forgot and she didn’t have the heart to either give him the bill or remind him repeatedly that he owed her money for the paper.

His gaze slid over her face, the small, stubborn chin, the little straight nose, the thick lashes lying so still against her pale cheeks, and soft, plump lips.

Remembering their last argument, he couldn’t help but wonder suddenly who had kissed her, who had pressed their mouth to hers, what man had tasted her.

Unbidden, his gaze slid over her figure, the generous swell of her breasts, the indent of her waist, the equally generous curve of her hips.  Dee had the figure of an overblown hourglass, all curves and sweet dips.

What man had sampled those curves?  Who had laid their hands on her and traced those curves, explored the dips?  How far had the unknown man gone?

Or men.

That thought didn’t sit well, Ryder’s gaze flying up to her face searchingly.  Even as he brushed the back of one hand against the tip of his nose, a small frown creased his brow, a little flare of anger flickering inside him.

Goddamn it, what had she done with another man?  How far had she gone?  Lying on his sofa she looked soft, almost innocent.  Had she lain on another man’s sofa while he explored her?  While she explored him?

Ryder looked to where one of her hands rested on the gentle swell of her belly.  Her palms had several calluses, she wasn’t a woman who shirked hard work.  Small hands, capable, a little work-roughened.  Had they slid over a man’s back as he rose above her, had they dug into his skin in pleasure as he-

Abruptly, Ryder swung around.  Jesus, what was wrong with him?  The flu was messing with his head, he must be running a fever again.  Thoughts of Dee with another man made him protective, sure, but what he was feeling - anger, a sudden intense urge to find the man - was wholly unexpected.

As unexpected as the anger that flared at the thought of another man touching Dee, exploring her lush body, tasting her…

He strode from the room impatiently, only to stop beside his bed and look at Jezebel where she was snuggled under the sheet.

Thrusting one hand through his hair, Ryder took a deep breath before going into the hallway and retrieving a light blanket from the cupboard.  Returning to the lounge, he draped it carefully over Dee before gently touching her forehead with his fingertips.

At her murmurer, he straightened and left quietly, glancing back over his shoulder to see her settle back down, pulling the blanket over her shoulders.

Woman had a good plan.  Go to sleep, which was what he intended to do.  Go back to sleep and let the flu work its way through him and finally go, leaving him back in his right mind.  His muddled thoughts would be back in order and the world would once more make sense.

Sliding in beside Jezebel, he looked at her.

She peeked coyly up at him from the tops of her eyes.

With a smile, he ruffled her ears before closing his eyes.

Good plans aside, the dreams that filled his night was a fever-induced mix of himself pushing through a fog, calling for a woman whom he should have known but couldn’t seem to remember, the urgency filling him, making him search more desperately, calling out.

Calling out and struggling, flinging out his hand, searching so very desperately-

“Easy, baby,” a soothing voice slid through him, bringing him back to fevered awareness.

Opening his eyes, he saw Dee leaning over him, her gaze so calm, so reassuring.

“Can’t find her,” he muttered.  “I called but…”

“I’m here.”  She placed something cool on his forehead, wiped it gently across his face, neck and shoulders.

So cool, so good.  Through half closed eyes he watched as she dipped the face washer in a bowl of water, wrung it out and repeated the movements on his hot skin.

Slowly he settled, relaxed under her administrations, her motions lulling him in a cradle of contentment.

He was almost asleep when he felt her arm go under his shoulders, heard her urge him up.  He obeyed, obediently opening his mouth and taking the medicine, swallowing the tablets with the cold water.

When she started to lower him back to the bed he grabbed her arm, fearful she’d disappear and he wouldn’t be able to find her again.  “Don’t go.”

“I won’t.”  She settled beside him, her back against the headboard, her legs up on the bed and stretched out, crossing her ankles.

So good.  So very good.

He settled beside her, his head resting against the side of her breast, her arm around the back of his neck as she smoothed her fingers along his temple and through his hair in a light, hypnotic movement.

Her scent filled him, her cool fingers lulled him, her steady breathing soothed him, and Ryder closed his eyes and slid back into sleep, this time dreamless.

Chapter 5

Listening to the shower running, Dee looked at Jezebel.  “Looks like I’ll be going very shortly.”

Jezebel blinked coyly at her.

“Yeah, that look doesn’t work on me like it does Ryder.  He’ll be looking after you from now on.”

Sliding around Dee’s ankles, Jezebel purred.

“You won’t be the only one purring at that news.  There are a few women waiting for him to stick his nose outside that door.”

They also knew he was a lot better, that was evidence by the messages she’d taken for him.  There was an impressive little stack of messages by the phone, not to mention the basket of homemade biscuits from Rachel, a box of cupcakes that looked to be made by the bakery but were delivered by Yvonne, a casserole in the ‘fridge sent by Beth, and assorted dishes and cakes and anything else to tempt a handsome paramedic’s belly from other women in Gully’s Fall - some friends, others wishing they were more, and some who had definitely been more than friends.

That was in addition to the various goodies sent by Del, Molly and Ash.  Simon had delivered a stack of motorbike magazines and stayed to chat with Ryder several times.  Scott and Kirk had rung numerous times to talk to him when he was able, and to check on his well-being with Dee.  Moira had called in but apart from saying hello to Ryder while standing at the bedroom door with a handkerchief over her nose, she hadn’t ventured any further into the germ-ridden room. No way did she want to catch any wog.  However, she quite happily made trips to the chemist and bought whatever Dee needed for him.  It was just sickness she didn’t handle well.

Sheets flapped on the line along with freshly washed boxers, the sheets she’d used in the other spare room after Ryder growled at her for sleeping on the sofa, both their towels and some tea towels.  Her own dirty clothes were in a bag ready for her to take home and wash.

Thankfully, Del had brought around a bag of Dee’s clothes and her toilet bag after the first night she’d spent at Ryder’s.  Pete had quite happily worked in the newsagent for the four days that she was away and would cover the rest of the day as well.

Washing the dishes, she looked out the kitchen window.  The garden was neatly tended but she was certain that had more to do with Ryder’s Mum.  The man just wasn’t that domesticated.  He’d water the lawn and run a lawnmower over it, but weeding wasn’t something he regarded as a necessity of life.  Nor were the upkeep of flowerbeds, but his garden-nut mother wouldn’t mind keeping the garden ship-shape.

“Hey.”  Ryder  walked into the room.

Picking up the tea towel, Dee looked at him. Not a sign of the illness lingered, not even paleness.  Dressed in an old t-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and a pair of boardies, his feet bare, he looked the picture of health.  “Looking heaps better.”  As in drop-dead gorgeous.  As usual.

“I always look good.”  He flashed her a grin as he opened the ‘fridge and inspected the contents.  “Ooohhh, did you make casserole?”

“That’s Beth’s.  She brought it over for you.”  Dee pointed at the baskets and box on the kitchen bench.  “Those are other offerings from your girlfriends.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”  He poured a generous amount of iced coffee into a tall glass.  “You want one, babe?”

“Thanks, but I don’t swing that way.”

He cast her a wry look.  “I mean drink.”

“No thanks.”  She gestured to the tin of Diet Coke she’d left on the table.

Crossing to stand beside her, he looked out the window.  “Something interesting out there?”

“Not really.”

He stood beside her, sipping from the glass.  Close beside her.  So close, in fact, that her shoulder almost brushed his arm.

Man, he smelled good.  Her heart rate kicked up a notch.  Wiping the plate, Dee inhaled.  Clean, fresh, masculine, all Ryder.  She remembered that soap, and not only from when he’d showered, which he’d done alone since the first time as he’d been stronger than when she’d had to help.

Sliding her gaze sideways, she watched the bulge of his biceps as he raised the glass, drank, and lowered it again.  Those muscles had bulged when he’d leaned against the shower wall, the shift and bunch of the heavy swells as he’d moved.  The tight clench of his backside, the heaviness of his thighs, the -
forget it!

Not going to happen, not now she’d seen him in all his naked glory.  Not that he’d ever know, he’d been so far gone in fever he’d never remember it.  She was safe.  But still, oh man, this was doing her head in.  Standing beside her, his warmth seeping into her.  He’d been sick, needing her help, and she’d been just fine with giving it, liking being with him, talking to him, reassuring him, nursing him through the fever, making him take the medicine.

Now here he was standing beside her, strong, healthy, not needing her.

That thought bit deep, made her flinch.

“You okay, babe?”

Glancing up, she saw him watching her questioningly.  Sure.”  She flipped the tea towel onto the bench.  “You’re all better now, Aunt Rose’s poor little Ryder.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t come and look after me.”

“She was sick.”

“Maybe she should have had you look after her as well.”

“She had your Uncle.”

“Like I said, maybe she should have had you as well.”

“Come on, Mr Waverton isn’t that bad.”

Ryder’s teeth flashed.  “He isn’t that good, either.”

“There’s no funeral notice in the paper, so she obviously made it through with his ministrations.”

“Did you check the notices carefully?”

“So how much will you pay me not to repeat that to your Uncle?”

“He has no illusions.  He knows he does a shit job.”

“So maybe I’ll just tell your Aunt.”

“She’d agree with you.”

Laughing, Dee flicked him across the backside with the tea towel as she shifted away, moving to the table to pick up the tin of Diet Coke and take a mouthful.

Noticing how quiet he was, she looked around to see him studying her.  Quietly.  Intently.

Wondering if she had something on her, she glanced down at her t-shirt, but no, it was clean.  Looking back at him, she raised one eyebrow.  “Something wrong?”

“I’m not sure.”  Eyes narrowed, he slowly rounded the bench towards her.

Uh oh.  He wasn’t just walking, he was almost…stalking.  Treading softly, deliberately, his gaze moving over her face as he inexplicably continued towards her. 

Her heart picked up a crazy notch, definitely not steady, and she cleared her throat a little nervously.  “Ryder?”

He didn’t answer, his gaze running down her body, stopping on her hands before lifting back up to search her face.  He didn’t stop moving even though he was drawing way too close, making her involuntarily step back against the table, the edge of it hitting the backs of her thighs.

“Have you been sucking on the shampoo in the bathroom?  Or were you inhaling too much aftershave?  Because I have to tell you, Ryder, you’re acting strange.  And I mean more than normal.”

There was a delicious edge of danger in the glint of his eyes as he looked her right in the eyes.  Coming to a stop before her, his body blocking her view of anything except, well, his utterly mouth-watering body with its mouth-watering scent and mouth-watering heat, Ryder just continued to look down at her.

So close now, he towered over her, forcing her to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

Cripes, what had happened?  Why was he looking at her so suspiciously?  So - her eyes widened. 
Oh shit, surely he didn’t remember-

“You,” he stated softly, dangerously, lowering his face until their noses nearly touched, “whacked my arse in the shower.”

Oh boy.  “I what?”

“Whacked me.  My arse.  In the shower.”

“Good grief, are you still running a fever?”

“No, I remember perfectly.  I was trying to get in the shower and you
whacked
me.”

“You were having some weird dreams-”

“This was no dream.”

“You had a raging temperature, you were saying all sorts of bizarre crap.”

“What I said and what I felt are two different things.”

“Huh.”  She folded her arms, tried for nonchalance.

The glint in his eyes was turning to a wild little glitter.  “Don’t even try to pull that shit with me, babe.”

“What shit?”

“Innocence.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bloody oath you don’t.  You wouldn’t know innocence if it bit you on your delectably curvy arse.”

“Wait.” 
Delectably?
  “What?” Nonplussed by his choice of words, she blinked.  “My
what
?”

His teeth bared in a grin that wasn’t totally comforting.  “Don’t even think of trying to deny it.  I know I was rambling, but I distinctly remember you smacking my arse.”

She swallowed, cleared her throat.  “You’re a little fixated on that.  I think you have a problem.”

Unblinkingly, Ryder held her gaze captive, the seconds stretching.

Oh boy.  Oh wow.  Oh shit.  This was pervertedly sexy, so erotically wrong.  To think the threat in the air, the danger in his eyes, the intimidation of his posture, was making her damp in places that had no right to be damp.  She should be peeing with fear, not creaming with, well, hell…desire.

“No, babe, that’s where you’re wrong,” he almost purred, low and deep and toe-curlingly menacing.

“Huh?” she managed to croak.

“You’re the one with the problem.”

“I am?”

“Oh yeah, babe, you are.”  In a move so unexpected it caught her by surprise, Ryder’s arm shot around her, his hand landing on her bottom in a light but firm smack.

It wasn’t hard, didn’t even hurt, was almost playful, but holy crap, it made her tingle in all the other places.  Her girlie bits were almost in overload.

It was either grab Ryder by the hair and jerk his head down to kiss him like a ravening beast, while climbing him like a sex-starved monkey and screaming ‘Smack me!  Smack me hard, you handsome bastard!’ or run.

Dee was no fool.  She ran.

One fast step to the side and she was away from him.

Ryder grabbed for her, missed and swung around in pursuit.

Heart pounding, blood singing in her veins, she couldn’t help laughing tauntingly when she glanced over her shoulder as she reached for the back door, only to curse when it wouldn’t open.

Bloody locked and the bloody key was hanging on the wall.

“Got you!” Ryder grabbed.

She feinted, bent, slid under his arm and shot forward.

Jezebel chose that moment to meander across the floor and Dee swerved, Ryder closed in from the side and before she knew it, she was manoeuvred quickly and expertly into the corner where the kitchen sink met the bench.

Cornered.

Swinging around, her back hit the corner and her hands flew up, shoving against Ryder’s chest as he stopped in front of her, one big hand braced on the sink, the other on the bench, effectively hemming her in with no escape route.

Looking up at him, she couldn’t help but see the gleam of victory in his eyes, the amusement creasing the laughter lines at the corners of his eyes, the deep rumble of his laugh as it erupted from his chest.

She sagged in combined relief, nerves, and dare she even think it, disappointment.  Jesus, she was a sick pervert.  At the same time, she couldn’t help but laugh right along with him, sagging forward as he caught her in his arms and held her close against him, his big body shaking with laughter.

“You arse!” she gasped out.

“Oh man, Dee, your expression will haunt me every night for the next year.”  He chuckled.  “You didn’t know whether to challenge me or run.”

“I ran.”

“I noticed.  Not smart, babe.”

“Why?”

“Makes the predator in me give chase.”

“Is that how the girls get you to chase them?”

“Babe, you’re the only one I’ve ever chased.”

Oh boy, that sounded so nice.  Relaxing against him, she murmured, “But I bet I’m not the only one to see you naked in the shower.”  Her eyes popped open right at the exact same instance Ryder stiffened. 

Oh shit
.  She shoved back out of his arms, her back hitting the counter.  “I mean…I didn’t…”  Her words trailed away.

Ryder stared down at her.  “You saw me in the shower?  That wasn’t a dream?”

Wait, there might be a way out of this.  “Sure it was.”

“Oh no, it wasn’t.”

“Yeah, it was.”  She reached for the tea towel, started folding it, watching her hands move as she continued airily, “So, guess I’d better go home and-”

The tea towel was snatched out of her hands and tossed back onto the sink.

With a gulp, she looked directly at the broad chest in front of her eyes.  The top of her head only came up to his shoulder, so it wasn’t hard to keep her gaze level.