Snapped (10 page)

Hell, where had all that come from? He
shook his head, annoyed that he'd fallen into the protective trap with Lucy. She
didn't need protecting. She'd made that clear. And he didn't want to be the one
keeping her out of trouble. What she did was her business. As long as she
didn't do it with
him
, he didn't care. He didn't want to play any part
in her little sexual games.

Donna had ruined him for that sort of
'fun'. He'd tried sharing her to keep her but it hadn't worked. No way would it
work with someone like Lucy who thought monogamy was a dirty word.

And if he couldn't have Lucy completely,
to himself, then he didn't want her at all.

That meant no sex, not even casually,
because she was addictive. One taste, and he'd be an addict for sure. He was
already on the way.

CHAPTER
7

Lucy flopped onto her bed, stifling a
moan. She'd never felt more frustrated in her life. So close, yet so far. The
hum of Nick's voice as he spoke to his partner on the phone rippled across skin
drawn tight with pent-up desire. Desire that wouldn't be sated. Not yet anyway.
From the sound of things, anger had dampened his libido. Too bad. She had such
big plans for the evening.

But it was early and if he was as horny
as she was, then all was not yet lost.

She rolled over, pressing her thighs
together. Her underpants were soaked, reminding her how close she'd been to
climaxing from his touch alone. Imagine what he could do with those fingers on,
and in, other body parts.

If it hadn't been for the phone call, who
knows where they'd end up. Hopefully with him inside her. From the look in his
eyes and the feel of his groin, he hadn't been far away from ripping her pants
off and entering her.

She sighed into the pillow. If only. Imagine
the magic that long, thick shaft could weave.

If he pushed her buttons just right, she
might weave a little of her own magic. She almost had, without even trying. He'd
been so close. She thought she'd heard him beg for release at one point, but in
hindsight, she couldn't be sure. From his ragged breathing and rapid-fire
heartbeat, she knew he'd nearly come, despite the barrier of material.

It must have been a while since he'd had
sex. No man cracks that easily. Good. That made her job a little easier, but no
less fun. Lucy smiled. Teasing Nick, taking him to breaking point, had been
exquisite. She couldn't wait for stage two.

Oscar jumped onto the bed and demanded to
be patted. Lucy flopped onto her back and obliged, staring up at the cobwebs
lacing the corners of the ceiling and the dusty light fitting. Whoever cleaned
this place had done a lousy job. Maybe it was used so little, they rarely
bothered. Well, she couldn't be expected to live in filth. And since the
Department of Justice weren't likely to call in a cleaning service, she'd have
to do it herself. It was the only way to guarantee a job got done properly
anyway. Besides, the act of cleaning would be an outlet for her frustration.

She got up, to Oscar's annoyance, and
opened the linen cupboard in the hallway. It was stacked with musty sheets and
towels. She picked out a tired looking pillowcase from the bottom of the pile
and went back to her room. Minutes later, she stood on tiptoes on the dresser
and flicked off the cobwebs, wincing at the pain in her ribs when she
stretched.

"What are you doing?"

She turned. Nick leaned against the
doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, looking like he wanted to bite
somebody's head off.

"Cleaning." She waved the dusty
pillowcase at him. "Want to help?"

"You should be resting."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, I saw you hold
your ribs when you reached up. Get down."

"Make me."

He took a step closer as if he would, but
he stopped just inside the door. "Don't play games. Get down before you
hurt yourself."

"I'm not a child, Nick." Nor
would she take orders from anyone. "And I can't stay in this place if it's
not clean."

"You don't strike me as the Martha
Stewart type."

"And you don't strike me as the
unadventurous type, so I guess we were both wrong." She stepped down from
the dresser to the chair she'd dragged over then turned to step onto the floor.

Nick stood in the way, his eyes level
with her throat. He glanced up and for a long beat, they took each other's
measure. His hands lifted slightly as if reaching out to take her, but he
dropped them and took a step back. Lucy hopped down, the movement making her
aching head spin.

"You okay?" His velvet-thick
voice rumbled in her ear and energy vibrated off his skin, warming the space
between them.

"Yeah." She stared straight at
his chest and touched him lightly with her fingers.

His breath caught. "I think you
should sit down." He took the hand at his chest and led her to the bed.

She sat, grateful for the opportunity. Was
it his heady presence making her dizzy or the accident? "Sit with me a
while?"

He hesitated, then sat beside her. "Take
it easy, Lucy. You had a bad accident, so don't push it."

She nodded and concentrated on breathing.
For a long time neither moved or spoke. When her head cleared and her breathing
returned to normal, she looked over at him. He was watching her.

"So you think I'm
unadventurous?" he said.

She smiled. She couldn't help it. He was
absolutely the most adorable man she'd ever met. Full of contrasts. Confident
yet vulnerable, tough yet soft. But one thing was for certain, he was one
red-hot man, oozing sexuality which she doubted he even knew he possessed.

If only he'd allow her to show him how
desirable he was. Women would flock to him if he dropped the he-man attitude.

On the other hand, maybe she shouldn't
show him. For a while at least, she wanted him all to herself.

"I think you should take a risk once
in a while." She sidled closer to him. "I can help you if you
want."

He stood abruptly. "No thanks. I
don't need your sort of help." A muscle worked in his jaw as he glared
down at her. "And I like my life the way it is. If you think I'm boring,
then that's your problem."

"I didn't say you were boring."

"You implied it."

"Gee, touchy subject." She
stood and swept past him through to the hallway. Looks like she'd hit a raw
nerve. Why the hell would it bother him so much anyway? He certainly wasn't
boring, he just wasn't a thrill-seeker, not in the bedroom department anyway. But
after a few days of being locked up with her, that would change. She'd make
sure he experienced every sexual thrill she had to offer.

She stopped in the middle of the living
room and looked up. Ropey cobwebs hung from the ceiling. They looked like
they'd been there as long as the century-old house. She entered the kitchen and
picked up one of the dining table chairs and headed back to the living room.

"I'll take it," said Nick,
standing in the way. "If you're set on cleaning this place up, then let me
do it. You lie down and rest."

"It's only eight o'clock. I'm not
tired."

"Then just relax. Watch TV."

She glanced at the show on TV, a poorly
made local cop show that never got the facts right. "No thanks. I'd rather
clean. I'll go nuts if I have to stare at these cobwebs any longer."

"I said I'll do it," he growled.

"And I can help. You do the stuff I
can't reach and all the heavy moving. Now go get yourself a pillow case from
the linen cupboard." When he didn't move, she shoved him gently.

He gave in with a sigh. "You're a
stubborn woman."

"So I've been told."

After an hour, Nick hopped down off the
kitchen table and wiped his brow. Lucy paused in her scrubbing of the cupboards
and looked up.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Just hot. You?"

"A little warm."

He undid the top buttons on his shirt and
rolled down the sleeves. "Don't overdo it. If your ribs or neck start
hurting, just stop. I'll finish off." He undid the rest of the buttons and
peeled the shirt off.

"Right," she murmured,
mesmerized by bulging muscle and so much flesh. "No problem-o." None
whatsoever. Especially if he was going to walk around like that for the rest of
the night. She was glad she'd suggested cleaning.

She'd seen bare chests before, but Nick
Dante's was a prize-winner. Not an ounce of fat, honed to perfection. Muscles
flexed beneath smooth, tanned skin as he moved. And they flexed
everywhere
—on
his six-pack stomach, his long, broad torso and on shoulders broader than any
football player's. Lucy had always been a shoulder woman, the wider the better,
and Nick had shoulders so powerful she wanted to sink her teeth into them. A
dark trail of hair disappeared into the top of the jeans he'd changed into
earlier and Lucy's fingers itched to follow it.

"Wow," she whispered.

He frowned down at her. "What are
you looking at?"

"Heaven."

"Cut it out." He started to put
his shirt back on. "I'll turn the heating down."

"No! I'm not hot." She was
burning up but if it meant he'd leave his shirt off, then hell, she'd ignore
the trickle of sweat between her breasts. "If you turn the heater down
I'll freeze."
Liar, liar pants on fire.
Oh yeah, they were on fire
all right.

He removed his shirt again. "Fine."
He headed out of the kitchen. "I'm finished in here anyway. I'm going to
vacuum. I think I saw one in the cupboard."

Damn. She quickly wiped the cupboard
she'd been cleaning and stacked away all the pots and pans. She was finished in
the kitchen too. She stood and went into the living room where the vacuum hummed.
Oscar stared at Nick from his perch on the couch, annoyed at his peace being
disturbed. Lucy leaned against the doorframe and marveled at such a masculine
man doing housework.

"Lucy," he shouted above the
noise without looking up, "don't you have something better to do?"

Something better than watching the
perfect specimen of a man get sweaty doing housework? There was no such thing
in the world.

But she didn't want him putting his shirt
back on, so she stepped past him and headed for the bathroom. Every few
minutes, she just
had
to check on his progress.

Two hours later, they'd removed all the
cobwebs, dusted, vacuumed, and cleaned the bathroom and kitchen until they
gleamed.

And Lucy had a plan of action. It
involved lulling him into a false sense of security then pouncing.

She came out of the kitchen with two
beers and handed one to Nick who sat on the couch, shirt on again. "Good
of the boys in blue to keep the fridge stocked."

"The last crew must have left them. Thanks,"
he said taking one. "But I don't think you should be drinking. Beer and
pain killers aren't a good cocktail."

"Spoil sport." But he was
probably right and she didn't want to ruin herself for later. Nick, on the
other hand, would need more than one to loosen up enough for what she had in
mind.

"So what did your partner say?"

"When?"

"When were we, um, when your phone
rang a couple hours ago?"

He flushed. "He can't locate
Thompson. He's still looking."

"Do you think Thompson's
involved?"

"Hard to say. His record's clean but
his reputation isn't. If we could find him, we could at least ask why the hell
he called you."

"Yeah, I'd kind of like to know
myself."

"So you don't know him?" He
took a long swallow of beer, avoiding eye contact with her.

"I haven't slept with him."

"That's not what I said."

"No but it's what you implied."
Oscar jumped onto her lap, kneaded her thighs with his claws, turned around
three times then finally settled down.

"Sorry," said Nick, watching
the kneading as if he'd never seen a cat before. Or maybe he just wanted to
be
the cat. "I didn't mean to."

"That's okay. It really doesn't
worry me what you or anyone else thinks about me." She tried to sound
reassuring, but he shook his head as if he didn't believe her. "So, Nick,
since we're going to spend time together, we might as well get to know each
other better."

He pressed the beer bottle to his lips
and drank. He finishing it and picked up the other one she'd brought into the
living room. "Is this where you ask me awkward questions about my sex
life?"

She grinned. "Actually, I was going
to ask you how many siblings you have but we can go with your suggestion."

He smiled lazily at her. "Four. All
sisters."

"Really? So that's where you get
your protective side from?"

He lifted one big shoulder. "I
guess. I was the oldest, so it stands to reason. What about you? How many
brothers and sisters?"