Playing with Dynamite (9 page)

“No,” Lisa said immediately, recalling the pain and humiliation she'd experienced the one time she'd confronted him with her need for a family. “I've already talked to him about it. It was a horrible experience, and I refuse to do it again. Especially,” she continued, when it appeared that Senada was going to interrupt, “since I know he hasn't changed his views on marriage. He may have changed in some areas, but not marriage.”

“If he changed his mind about one thing, then—”

“No.” Lisa shook her head. “I felt like I was asking him to marry me. Do you know what it's like to be turned down for that?”

“No, but I know what it's like to be turned down for other things,” Senada said thoughtfully. “How many times did I ask the Arts Council if we could do their Winter Ball before they said yes? More importantly, how many times did they say no?”

“At least a dozen,” Lisa admitted, “but it's not the same thing.”

“I
wanted
that Arts Council job with a passion.” She flipped her dark hair behind her shoulder. “You've got to go after what you want. Pull out all the stops and go for broke. If you want Brick to be the father of your children, you shouldn't let a little two-letter word stop you.”

That two-letter word held an enormous amount of power, Lisa thought. “I don't know.”

Senada snorted. “Don't wimp out.”

Lisa's temper lit. “It's not a matter of wimping out, Sin. I'll admit I'm scared. If things don't work out, I'm afraid I'll end up in pieces. If I go for broke and try everything I can think of to get Brick to change his mind about marriage, what happens if he still doesn't want to?”

Senada hesitated. “That's a problem. It's more of a risk for you than it would be for me, because I can't imagine wanting to marry a man that much.” She shrugged. “If he still didn't want me, I'd probably tell him to go eat some dynamite.” She gave a melodramatic sigh. “Then I'd check my Rolodex for someone else to comfort me in my hour of need.” Senada made a face and squeezed Lisa's arm. “Sorry,
chiquita.
I don't think I'm helping very much. I think you're gonna have to roll your own dice on this one.”

And that was the crux of the matter, Lisa realized later. She didn't want to roll the dice. She didn't want to wonder what would or could happen. She didn't want to guess how long he'd stay or when he'd go. She didn't want to play the game anymore. She wanted a sure thing.

 

“I'm sorry, Brick,” Senada said, her voice patently insincere. “Lisa can't take your call right now. Would you like to leave a message?”

Brick swore under his breath. “Why should I leave a message when I know you're tossing all of them into the circular file?”

“How do you know
I'm
the one who's throwing away your messages?”

Her words cut to the very heart of him. “Lisa throws them away?”

“Oh, don't sound so wounded,” Senada said in disgust. “Lisa's vulnerable right now. She doesn't need you bothering her.”

He narrowed his eyes at the cold pain settling in his chest. “Is that what she said? Is that why she hasn't talked to me in over a week?”

“She's confused.” Senada paused, and her voice softened. “I'm worried about her. She seems worse today. As if she's sitting on the edge and…”

His gut clenched. “And what?”

“I really shouldn't be discussing this with you, Brick. Especially since your intentions aren't honorable,” she added in a meaningful tone.

“Give me a break, Senada. I've been trying to talk to her for almost two weeks. You're not the only one who cares about Lisa.”

“I'm not hurting her, though.”

Brick looked at the ceiling and counted to ten. Senada's barbed comment was right on target, but he was wrestling with his own confusion and sense of loss. “You're probably not going to believe this, but I don't want to hurt Lisa. I want her to be happy. She's the most important woman in the world to me. I—”

“Then why don't you marry her?” she asked bluntly.

Brick's mind froze. He squeezed his forehead and swallowed hard. “It isn't that easy.”

Senada gave a heavy sigh. “Lisa says the same thing.”

“Then tell me what you meant when you said she seems worse today.” When Senada remained silent, he ground his back teeth. “Please.”

“It's really been for the last two days. I don't know what it is, but she seems like she's running on nerves. She's offering to cover extra jobs. She doesn't sit still for a minute, and she backed over a mailbox this morning. She's
working
at being cheerful.”

The last statement was the most telling. Lisa didn't have to work at being cheerful. She was naturally. His uneasiness grew. “I need to see her. Where's she working tonight?”

“Absolutely not. What could
you
do to make her feel better?”

Brick absorbed the veiled insult without difficulty. His main concern was Lisa. He didn't really care what Senada thought of him. He was much more absorbed with his compelling need to see Lisa. For Pete's sake, it had been almost two weeks. “I could hold her,” he simply said.

A long silence followed. He could practically hear Senada's inner struggle. “I hope I don't regret this,” she muttered, and told him where Lisa was working.

Brick murmured a quick thanks and got off the phone. He decided to wait until her busiest time had passed and cooled his heels for three excruciating hours. He entered the hotel lobby armed with a bag of fruit-flavored candy in his pocket and a single white rose in his hand.

Minutes later, he found her in the kitchen with the other banquet staff where everything appeared to be winding down. Watching her from the doorway for a moment, he noticed that she looked tired, and as Senada had said, appeared to be running on nerves. She was so intent on her work, she didn't notice that he'd entered the room.

As Lisa leaned against the counter and scratched some figures on her inventory sheet, something flashed in her peripheral vision. She jerked her head up. A white rose held in a familiar strong hand was extended in front of her. She smelled the scent of the rose and felt Brick's body heat behind her.

“Surprise,” he said in a low voice.

Her pulse immediately quickened. She studied the rose in silence. The gesture was touching, but it was the man who made her insides tremble. Since she'd gotten the news from her sister two days before, Lisa had felt as if she'd had the wind taken out of her sails. She'd hidden from her anguish with work. But now Brick was there and she suddenly felt vulnerable. She bit her lip and took the rose in her hand. “Thank you,” she managed. “This is definitely a surprise.”

“I wondered how you've been doing.”

She closed her eyes and braced herself against a barrage of emotions. “I've been busy and I haven't taken your calls. I'm not sure I can explain, but—”

He cupped her shoulder, and she sensed he would have held her if they'd been alone. “You don't have to explain right now.”

She sagged with relief. With the relief, however, her hard-won composure wavered. Brick's presence seemed to sharpen her senses, and her buried pain became fresher, more acute. She held her breath, willing the raw feeling to pass.

He gently turned her to face him, and she stood for his inspection because she didn't have the energy to run or the desire to tell him to leave.

“I don't like the circles I see underneath your eyes,” he muttered.

His concern made her throat close up. She swallowed hard. “You're not supposed to notice.”

He scowled, but his eyes were gentle. “Let's get out of here. Can't you get someone else to finish up?”

“I could,” she said, uncertain about the wisdom of leaving with him. “Where did you have in mind?”

Brick's gaze narrowed as if he'd guessed she was afraid to be alone with him in her apartment or his. He jabbed his finger toward the ceiling. “Up on the roof. The hotel has an observation deck.”

It took only a moment to give instructions to her banquet coordinator, and Lisa and Brick were soaring toward the twenty-first floor in the elevator. The same elevator they'd been stuck in when Brick had turned her on with the tale of his fantasies about her. Fighting an insidious heat, she made herself focus on what the observation deck would be like: scenic, the air would cool her face, and most importantly, the deck was
public.

She hoped Brick wasn't going to be nice. She felt pathetically weak at the moment, and entirely too susceptible to his charms.

The doors whooshed open. “We're here,” he said. His gaze met and held hers.

He didn't touch her, she noticed as she stepped from the elevator. He was being extremely careful. Good, she told herself, denying that she wanted his arms around her. Somebody needed to be careful.

Seeing no other visitors on the observation deck, Lisa walked as far as she could and wrapped her hands around the protective iron railings. The metal felt cool to her touch, and the breeze was warm due to the summer temperature. Buildings, lights, the shadow of mountains and a million stars provided a panoramic view.

Brick stood next to her. “Bet it's pretty in the fall.”

Lisa nodded. The back of his hand brushed hers, but he didn't lace her fingers through his. She had thought some of her excruciating inner tension would disappear when they stepped outside. Instead her awareness of Brick had heightened. She smelled his clean masculine scent in the breeze. She felt the warmth and strength from his body. Sliding a glance at him, she noticed his jaw was clenched, and his hand was in his pocket as if he were wound as tightly as she was. This was crazy, she thought, and was just about to suggest they leave when Brick pulled something out of his pocket.

“You want a fruit chew?”

Her favorite candy. The little kindness stripped her already shaky reserves, and the emotion of the whole week fell on Lisa like a wrecking ball.

“Oh, Brick,” she wailed, and burst into tears.

At the sight of Lisa's tears, Brick automatically pulled her into his arms. “Lisa?”

His gut twisted when a shudder racked her frame. Alarm tore through him. Something horrible must have happened. He tightened his hold.

Lisa sobbed against his chest. “M-my sister—called m-me.” Squeezing his shirt, she shook her head. “My youngest sis—” She sniffed and continued. “She's pregnant!”

Brick waited for the rest of the story, but Lisa sobbed again.

Certain there was more, he gently prodded her. “Is she okay?”

“Y-yes.”

He stroked her hair in a soothing motion. “Is the baby okay?”

Lisa nodded.

Totally confused, he shook his head. “Then what?”

“I'm just so—so happy for her,” she said, and another shudder racked her.

Every little sob turned him inside out. “Of course you are,” he muttered as he rubbed her shoulders. He felt the warm wetness of her tears seep through his shirt. “Lisa,” he murmured against her head. “Lisa, honey, you gotta tell me why you're so upset.”

She took a deep breath and backed slightly away. Brick noticed that she seemed to be staring at his throat instead of his eyes.

“It's so stupid.”

When he tilted her chin so she'd meet his gaze, she bit her lip. “What's so stupid?” he asked.

She squinted her eyes and another set of tears ran down her cheeks.

Brick wiped them away with his fingers. “Tell me.”

“I'm happy for her, but I'm miserable for me,” she whispered. “And I'm so ashamed.”

Understanding hit him, and Brick felt a tug of empathy. “Aw, Lisa.” He pulled her back against his chest and tangled his fingers through the silk of her hair.

“What's wrong with me?” she asked in a shaky voice. “I just want a man to love me and a baby I can love. I realize that's not a very modern goal, but it's what I want.”

His chest was heavy with her pain. “There's not a damn thing wrong with you.” He gently shook her. “Do you hear me? Any man would—”

She lifted her head and looked at him with sad eyes. “Not any man, Brick. Not any man.”

Brick's heart sank, and he swore in frustration. How could he explain to her that it was his problem not hers? Desperate to help her, he swallowed past the thick emotion in his throat. He put his hands on either side of her head and stared straight into her eyes. “I love you,” he said gruffly. “I can't ask you to marry me, but I love you. I've never told another woman that. I realize it's just words and it may not mean much to you, but I love you.”

He searched her gaze for understanding and died a little when he saw confusion. Knowing his words weren't enough, he took her mouth in a kiss that he hoped would say everything he couldn't.

She opened her mouth to his seeking tongue, and Brick filled himself with her sweet taste and the texture of her mouth. She clung to his shoulders and his body.

She kissed him back as if she were focusing the full range of her emotions on him. Her complete vulnerability stirred something primitive inside him. He tasted her sadness and fear, her confusion and desire, and it only made him want to make everything better for her.

Turning aggressive, Lisa pressed herself against him, her breasts to his chest, her abdomen nuzzling his arousal. Brick lost his breath while she sucked his lower lip into her mouth. She slid her hands down to his hips and pulled them into the cradle of her thighs.

His heart pounded with the fury of his leashed passion, his skin heated so that it seemed to sizzle where she touched, and he turned hard with the need to show instead of tell.

Everything was getting out of control. Brick tried to grab his sanity when she lowered one of her hands between them.

“Lisa! For God's sake.” His body didn't want to stop her. It was too good having Lisa in his arms, having her hands on him again. It was too good and it had been too long.

He touched her breasts and she moaned with pleasure. Above the roar in his ears, he heard voices from the elevator. It took a moment for reality to kick in, a moment when Lisa wiggled deliriously against him. Brick closed his eyes and swore. He clasped his hand around her wrist.

“What is it?” she asked breathlessly. “Why did you stop me? Why—?”

Brick covered her mouth and stared into green eyes bright with arousal. “We're not alone anymore,” he managed in a gruff voice.

He could see she was so aroused, she was edgy with it. The knowledge did nothing for his self-control.

“I don't want to wait,” she whispered, desperation written on her face. “I need you now.”

She
needed
him. There was so much he couldn't give her that she needed, but, dammit, he could do this much. “Let's get out of here,” he said, and tugged her toward the elevator.

When her legs failed her, he held her against him and stepped into the elevator. The door closed, he immediately took her mouth again, and the fury began as if they'd never stopped. She was all over him, her mouth on his, her hands pulling loose his shirt, her unique aroma wrapping around him like a scented satin sheet. In the mirrored walls, he caught blurred snatches of the reflection of her tousled hair, flushed cheeks and her swollen mouth as she kissed his throat.

The multiangled sight of her was so sexy, he felt as if a blowtorch roared through his blood. Instinct took over. He wrapped his hands around her rear end and squeezed. Her flesh was warm, feminine, tempting. But he wasn't nearly close enough, so he slipped one hand beneath her skirt and thanked the Lord she was wearing thigh-high stockings.

Her lace panties were damp with her arousal. He slid his fingers underneath the edge to her core. She cried out.

That vulnerable, feminine sound made something inside him snap. “Do you want me now, Lisa?”

“Yes! Oh, Brick, yes.”

He watched her eyes, huge with passion as he pushed the lacy triangle down her trembling thighs. Touching her hot, sweet femininity again, he felt himself swell painfully against the fly of his pants. “This is crazy,” he muttered to himself, knowing the building would have to fall down before he would stop.

With his last bit of sanity, he pushed the stop button, halting the elevator between floors. He unzipped his pants, released his rigid masculinity and picked her up. “I hope you're sure you want this.”

“I'm sure,” she said between uneven breaths as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Give me you.”

Give me you.
He swore. It was too much. He pressed her against the mirrored wall and lifted her skirt. They took each other in one slick mind-robbing plunge. In the next seconds of spiraling sensation, Brick didn't know which breath was hers, which moan was his. He only knew she was the source of his every secret desire, his every hidden need, and she was milking him with tiny, exquisite shudders. She cried out, and he felt her clenching spasm.

For only a second he saw the rapture on her face. Then he was gone, soaring after her into ecstasy.

Her forehead, damp with perspiration, pressed against his. Her eyes were shut and she fought for breath. “Oh, Brick—”

Brick was fighting for his own breath and equilibrium. “Give me a minute.” Shuddering, he pulled away and allowed her feet to slide to the floor. She clasped his arms to keep from falling.

“Are you okay?” he asked, trying to make his mind work. They had to get out of the elevator.

She nodded, her eyes still dazed. “I—my legs—” She looked at him helplessly.

“Lean against the wall for a minute, honey.” He kneeled down and with trembling hands gently pushed her hose and panties back up her legs, then put his own clothes back together. “I'm getting us a room for the night,” he said, pushing the button for the lobby at the same time that he pulled her back into his arms.

Within five minutes, they were in the hotel room. Before Lisa could protest, he had her out of her clothes and in the shower. She was standing under the warm spray when he joined her.

Her hair was slicked away from her face in a wet curtain. Her skin was creamy with rivulets of water running down her throat to her breasts. Looking at her nipples made him want to put his mouth to them, then skim down her belly to the warmth between her thighs. The sight of her nudity brought a fresh surge of heat. He wanted her again.

“I can't believe we did that in the elevator,” she said, wrapping her arms around him.

“Do you regret it?”

Her eyes dark with a woman's secrets, she slowly shook her head.

He sipped the water from her lips. “I feel like I've been living in a desert and you're the water I've needed for days.”

“Oh, Brick.” Her voice was a wisp of a sound, at odds with the wild craving he felt for her.

Feeling himself pulse to life, he lowered his mouth to her nipples, sipping each of them as he'd sipped her mouth. “Oh, Brick what?” he asked.

Closing her eyes, Lisa arched against him in pleasure. “If I'm the water, then drink up.”

He did. Eager to rediscover and reclaim every inch of her, he took his time and devoted himself to the task. He was determined to get it right this time, to make sure he knew everything about her.

He watched her eyes dilate when he slowly grazed his thumb up her thigh to her sweet honeyed feminine secrets. He measured the depth of her shudder when he replaced his thumb with his mouth. He didn't miss a single soft whimper when he teased both of them by inserting just the tip of his aching erection inside her, then withdrawing.

The self-denial made his nerve endings agitate and his forehead prickle with perspiration. Still, he continued the sweet torture until he could stand it no longer.

What took his breath and stole his heart was the way she strained to hold back her completion until she was sure he was coming with her for the ride. She gently touched him, his cheek, his shoulders, his whole body, but he learned that it was the tenderness, not the technique, that made him feel so many things he didn't understand. He saw that his pleasure was just as important to her as her own was. It only made him want to please her more.

The night was full of their lovemaking. He didn't want a moment to pass that she didn't know the strength of his desire for her. He wondered how he'd endured the last two months without having her in his bed and in his life. At the same time, however, he wondered why he still felt the same resistance to marrying her. Every time he touched her, there lurked the dark possibility that it could be the last time. It could be his last drink of water. It fed his frantic pace until Brick and Lisa fell into an exhausted sleep at dawn.

 

Lisa's eyes fluttered open to the midmorning sunshine spilling through the gap in the curtain.

She immediately closed them. For such a little ray, the sun seemed obscenely bright.

She didn't look at Brick, but felt his presence beside her. His breath was slow and even, his body pressed to her side. There was no morning-after confusion. She didn't wonder where she was and how she'd gotten there. She remembered it all in vivid detail.

She remembered the exquisite sensation of having him inside her, how her slightest touch had excited him, and how he had rendered her speechless with his sensitivity. She remembered everything and refused to call something so wondrous a mistake. But she also remembered the driven desperation that darkened his eyes every now and then, and Lisa knew nothing had changed. He still couldn't tie himself to her. What made it worse this time was that it wasn't tormenting only her. It was obviously killing him too.

“Morning, Lisalove,” Brick murmured in a sleep-husky voice.

Her heart twisted at the affectionate nickname. Turning to look at him, she took in the appealing sight of his tousled hair and the dark shadow of his bearded jaw. Then she stared into his violet gaze and struggled with a quick shaft of pain.

He propped himself on an elbow and bent over to kiss her, a long leisurely wake-up kiss that made her sigh when he pulled back.

She smiled. “Good morning to you.”

He toyed with a lock of her hair. “You wanna have breakfast in bed? I can order something from room service.”

It sounded wonderful. It would, however, prolong the inevitable. “I don't think so,” she said, bringing the covers with her as she rose to a sitting position. She wondered where her clothes were.

“Not hungry?” He sat up, too, but didn't bother with the covers.

“No, I haven't looked at the time yet, but—” Lisa glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and shook her head. “Oh, my! Ten-thirty.” Dismayed, she shifted her legs, and her feet touched the plush carpet. “You know how Saturdays are when I'm working. A million things to do…” Her voice trailed off when Brick fastened his hand around her wrist.

“Why are you in such a hurry to leave?” he asked in an even voice.

She took a deep breath. “I wouldn't call leaving at ten-thirty in a hurry.”

“You just woke up.”

Reluctantly she met his gaze. “It's time for me to go.”

“Why?”

He shifted his shoulders, and she was suddenly aware of his masculine strength. It was amazing the way he attracted her with so little effort. She shook off the thought. “I mean, the night is over. It was an—” Searching for a word that could possibly describe it, she lifted her hand helplessly. “—an incredible night. A night I'll never forget. But the night's all gone now. We're the same people with the same minds, and our minds don't really agree.”

His gaze darkened, and he began to rub his thumb over her wrist. “Our minds agreed last night. Everything agreed last night.”

She couldn't dispute that. It was difficult to think with his finger making her pulse skip in time to his stroking. “But that was last night, and this is now. And I don't think our minds agree anymore.”

“You're not saying you want to go back to us not seeing each other, are you?” Holding her gaze, he lifted her wrist and pressed his lips against her pulse.