Slow Hands (9 page)

Maddy tried to force her heart to slow its rapid pace, striving for the same nonchalance Jake obviously felt about his casually possessive touch on her leg.

She didn’t succeed. Her pulse still raced, her breaths grew fast and uneven. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the strong, deeply tanned fingers starkly outlined against her clothing.

Then, thank heaven, she was saved. Because with the bases loaded, the next player at bat hit one out of the park. The entire stadium roared, rising to its feet as if one huge, sinuous being, Maddy and Jake among them.

Whoever that player was, she could kiss him, she really could. Because somehow, during the euphoric celebrations of the home team’s victory, she managed to calm down and put all her protective gear firmly back in place.

Almost through
, she reminded herself. Their date was almost done, then she could forget about this day, forget about him. Seeing the way he’d been completely unaffected by a simple touch that had left her breathless had reminded her of just who she was dealing with her. This man dealt in intimate touches and was completely unaffected by them.

She, however, was not, and would never be. Which meant she needed to put an end to this ridiculous date. And get back to her regularly scheduled life.

S
ITTING AT A GOUGED
and pitted oak table at a popular downtown pub that evening, Jake watched carefully for the first sign that Maddy wasn’t enjoying herself. So far, he’d seen absolutely nothing. Not even her run-in with the obnoxious drunk at the stadium had affected her.

He still wanted to laugh when he thought about it. He’d seen women erupt on rude men, had witnessed his baby sister throw a glass vase at her boyfriend’s head. But he’d never seen one completely emasculate a guy with her mouth…without the idiot ever even realizing it.

Most impressive.

“I can’t believe I’m eating like this.”

They’d been munching on chicken wings and a mountain of nachos. And to his surprise, Maddy had opted for beer, sharing a half pitcher with him, instead of some sweet, girlie drink. She seemed relaxed. If not outright laughing, she at least smiled more than once.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. I don’t think they even serve salads here, unless they’re topped with deep-fried chicken and a mountain of cheese.”

One fine, delicate brow arched and she stared at him with quiet reproach, though a hint of a smile lurked on her beautiful mouth. “What are you suggesting, Jake? That I should only be eating salads?”

He backpedaled, holding up a quick, defensive hand. Damn, how could guys avoid these basic traps women always set out for them? “No way.” Grinning, he added, “Just seems like the only things my sisters ever ordered. God forbid one of them should ever have taken a bite out of a hamburger, especially if one of their boyfriends was around.”

“It’s a female thing.” She sighed heavily, as if accepting something that was inevitable. “Not just the instinct to watch what we eat, so we can look like what all the media images
tell
us we should look like. There’s also a need to eat lightly in front of men, as if we need to assure them we’re on top of things and will never gain weight.”

“When secretly you’re all dying for wings and nachos?”

She licked her lips, then smacked them together before reaching for another. “Yes. Any of your sisters married?”

“The oldest, with three kids—twin boys and a girl. And Blair, who’s a year older than me, is engaged.”

“Uh-huh. Watch her at the wedding reception. She’s going to bite into the first piece of cake she’s had since she decided he was
the one
, and will look like she’s already had her first orgasm of the night.”

Knowing his big sister, Maddy was probably right. Then the orgasm part of her statement kicked in and he coughed into his fist.

She didn’t even seem to notice. “Which is why most new wives gain a few pounds in the first year of marriage, not including the weight of the rock on their hand.”

“So should I be flattered that you’re on your fourth wing? You don’t need to worry about impressing me?” He wondered what she’d say if she knew he was more impressed by her adorable honesty and the way she licked the tips of her fingers after each nibble.
Yum
.

“Exactly. Because this is not a legitimate date.”

“Says you.”

“Says me.”

“What if it was?”

She snorted an inelegant laugh that sounded completely unlike her, but incredibly cute. “Then I would have asked for a bread stick and a glass of water.”

He
knew
this one. “With lemon!”

“Of course. Natural diuretic.” She wagged her eyebrows, a very un-Maddylike move. “You’re good.”

“Hello, three sisters?”

“
Three?
Goodness, you do get a lot of torment.”

She had no idea. The older two used to dress him up as a baby doll and play with him when they were kids. Usually choosing to dress him as a girl. Not that he was about to tell
her
that.

“What if I wanted it to be?” he asked.

“Wanted it to be what?”

Knowing he was pushing it, but realizing he had an opening provided by the beer or two, which had helped her loosen up, he plunged forward. “A real date.”

She shook her head, dipping the appetizer into a tiny dish of blue cheese dressing. “Not an option.”

Wow, talk about shooting a guy down without a moment’s hesitation. But Jake didn’t worry…the night was young. He had a few hours to change her mind.

Besides, he knew where she worked. She’d soon find out that he didn’t give up on something he wanted quite that easily. And he most definitely wanted her. More with every minute that passed.

He risked a quick, appreciative look across the table at her curvy figure, so incredibly sexy in her hot pink top. “By the way, in my opinion you don’t have a
thing
to worry about.”

“Ha. I have huge breasts, short legs, what my father likes to call my late mother’s ‘childbearing hips’ and a big backside.”

As if any man would complain about a single one of those things? Was she for real? “Honey from where I’m sitting, you are just about perfect.”

“From where you’re sitting, you can’t
see
the extra fifteen pounds that couldn’t be removed from my body by a plastic surgeon using an industrial Shop-Vac instead of a liposuction machine.”

He barked a quick laugh. “You’re not going to get an agreement from any man alive on that score, Madeline Turner. You are shaped exactly the way a woman should be shaped.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, disbelief ringing clearly in her voice. “Tell that to the Chicago Club set who have replica Paris fashion models on their arms.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said firmly, not allowing her to argue it. Thinking about what she’d said, he added, “And if you let some quack touch you I’ll have to hunt him down and put a hurt on him.”

“Are you always so aggressive?”

“Are you always so hard on yourself?”

That appeared to shock her. Maddy’s mouth dropped open, as if he’d accused her of having an extra limb. “Hard on myself?
Me?
I’ve got a well-known reputation as a self-confident ice queen.”

“Maybe in the financial world.” He reached across the table and smoothed back a long, silky strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail, touching her cheek lightly in the process. “Not in the real one.”

Maddy froze for a moment, allowing the brief caress. Then, as he could have predicted, she carefully slid away from it, as if realizing she’d been getting far too comfortable around him. Now she was putting that distance back—that wall.

He didn’t take it personally. Especially because he had realized something—the separation wasn’t just between her and him, but between her and
everyone.
As if she constantly had to keep a shield in place to prevent anyone from getting too close. Or from getting too obnoxious, like the guy at the ballpark, whom she had so easily put in his place.

He knew from experience that the absolute worst thing to do with a woman who already had her guard up was to try to stampede through it. Which was why he’d downplayed that casual touch at the stadium. Jeez, he’d meant to offer her a way-to-go squeeze but had ended up completely dumbstruck by the way the simple brush of his hand against her leg had made him feel.

Awed. Hot. Out of his mind hungry.

And he’d had to pretend he’d felt absolutely
nothing
. Or risk adding to the armor he’d finally begun to slowly chip away.

“I have plenty of self-confidence. Just because I don’t appear on the social pages with a different man every week doesn’t mean I don’t know I’m moderately attractive.”

Attractive didn’t even begin to describe her.

“I don’t have the time or the energy for any of that romantic nonsense.”

“So who was he?” he asked, not even looking into her eyes as he reached for his beer.

“Who was who?”

“The guy who gave you such a negative outlook on love.”

He wondered for a moment if she would take offense, but her soft laughter told him she hadn’t. “Uh, remember who you’re talking to? Jason Turner’s daughter sitting over here?”

Jake had brought his mug to his mouth but hadn’t yet sipped. He slowly lowered it. “Your father is the one who convinced you you’re better off being alone?”

“For the most part.” Her eyes shifted, she wasn’t telling the whole story, but at least she was opening up a little.

He wasn’t willing to risk her shutting down by pushing into areas she didn’t want to discuss. Still, she’d brought it up—again. She’d mentioned her father’s romantic issues during their walk. “Just because he’s had some bad luck?”

“I’ve seen my father fall in and out of love so many times the word has simply lost its meaning. I’ve come to realize he’s in love with being in love.” Her mouth twisted. “Then there’s Tabby, my sister.”

The name hinted at what she was probably like. “Older or younger?”

“Older. Divorced once, on her second engagement since. She hasn’t quite nailed down that true love thing, either, though not for lack of trying. A lot.”

“And what about Madeline?”

“Not interested.”

“Not even a chance you’re wrong about that, huh?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Not worth it.”

He pointed to her glass. “It’s more than half-full.”

She pointed to his. “Yours is almost empty.”

“Easily remedied.” Reaching for the half pitcher, he topped up his mug. “See? It’s all in your perspective.”

Maddy frowned, though he’d swear he saw a hint of unguarded humor in her eyes. It was quickly gone and her manner returned to aloof, unaffected, unmoved. “Perspective doesn’t change fact. And I really don’t know why we’re even talking about this. We’re here, together, because of a charity obligation, not out of any real interest or—” her voice faltered for the first time “—attraction.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Her pulse fluttered visibly in her throat.

“I am
incredibly
attracted to you.” He knew he risked scaring her off again, but could be nothing but honest. There was no way he could allow her to go on believing he was only here because she’d bid on him at some charity event. “In case that kiss earlier didn’t clue you in, let me give it to you straight. I have wanted you since I spotted you from behind the curtains the other night at the auction.”

For the second time since he’d known her, Jake had managed to shock Maddy speechless. She stared at him, blinking a few times, her mouth open but no sounds coming out.

Why the hell she should be surprised, he had no idea. She had to have seen the lust in his eyes the night they met, before he’d realized she wouldn’t appreciate any kind of obvious come-ons and gotten himself under control. And the woman was sexy enough to make a ninety-year-old beg his doctor for a year’s supply of Viagra.

Yet she seemed entirely oblivious to it.

Color washed through her beautiful cheeks. Maddy’s lips parted as she breathed across them. Even from across the table, he could see the way her chest moved with each deep inhalation.

His body reacted. The lazy hunger that had been flowing through his veins focused in tighter, right in his crotch. “You can’t tell me you didn’t realize it.”

She swallowed, shaking her head. “I did. But I just assumed you were being…that you were used to making women feel like you wanted them, because, you know, I’d bid so much.” Regaining some confidence, she leaned over and accused him with one hard stare. “You haven’t looked at me
that
way all day today.”

“Did you not notice that I almost tore a guy’s head off because
he
looked at you
that
way.”

“That’s different. He was drunk and stupid and…”

“Porcine?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not a pig. I’m a gentleman.” Tension snapping between them, he leaned closer, keeping his voice low and intimate. Raking a hot glance over her, he admitted, “And a gentleman doesn’t come right out on a first date and tell a woman he wants to smother her beautiful nipples in sugar and then suck every bit of sweetness right out of her until she’s begging to be taken.”

She gasped, but he was too far gone. Both his mouth…and his body, which was now rock-hard beneath the table.

“And it wouldn’t have been terribly polite of me to tell you I’ve been wondering all day what color panties you have on. Whether it’s a thong, whether the curves of your ass are really as round and sweet as I think they are.”

“Jake…”

“Or that if I fell into your incredible breasts and smothered to death, I’d die with a smile on my face.”

“Oh my.”

“Or that when I touched your leg this afternoon, all I could think of was how slim your thighs are. How easily my hands would wrap around them. How amazing it would be to lift them over my shoulders, getting the best possible angle so I could plunge into you,
hard,
and fill you so completely you feel like you’re gonna break in half.”

“Holy shit,” someone said.