Summer Heat (15 page)

“Yes, you do. You’re
tight, hot and wet.”

“Make me come. Now.”

His husky laugh made
her pant. When his thumb caressed her clit she arched against him, sliding back
and forth until she couldn’t bear the pleasure any longer. His fingers slid
softly against the sensitive nub, relentlessly stroking until she exploded
around him, unable to stop the fireworks shooting through her.

“Fuck!” he groaned,
then thrust deeply inside her, his orgasm rocketing his body against hers.

Melissa held on to him
tightly, riding out her climax until she collapsed against his chest. His heart
pounded madly against her, his breathing hard and heavy.

“That was nice,” he
murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Nice? Nice? It had been
spectacular, earth shattering even. She pushed back and sat upright, lifting
off him.

“Nice? Is that all it
was?”

He laughed. “No, it was
great. Best sex I’ve ever had.”

Irritation boiled
inside her. Then she reminded herself that this was exactly what she wanted,
too. Sex without emotion. But, damn it was difficult to separate the two. She
didn’t need to get angry at Aidan because he was acting just as she wanted him
to.

He grinned. “Now I
really do need a shower—and breakfast. Sex makes me hungry.”

She stood and he helped
her out of the tub. She let the water out while he ran the shower, and when he
was finished she stepped in. By the time she exited the shower he’d left the
bathroom.

After dressing and
combing her hair she walked down the hall and found him in a spacious kitchen,
complete with a granite-topped center island. Decorated in shades of black and
white, the kitchen boasted ample cabinet space and much more room than she’d
anticipate a single man could ever use.

Then again, he’d
already used up most of the available space with cooking ingredients, mixing
bowls and pots and pans.

And food. A lot of
food. The smell of which had her stomach panging with hunger.

“What are you fixing?”
she asked as she sidled up to him. “And can I help?”

He smiled at her and
shook his head. “Nope. Got it covered. And it’s something special.”

“Special?” She looked
over the bacon, English muffins and something sitting in a milk mixture.
“What’s that?”

“Oysters.”

She met the teasing
glint in his eyes and swallowed hard, trying not to gag. “Oysters?”

He nodded. “You’ll love
this dish. Trust me.”

Pouring a cup of coffee
to get the anticipated bad taste out of her mouth, she stood back and watched
Aidan fix the meal.

It was a rather
intricate procedure utilizing bacon, oysters, muffins, seasoning and eggs. He
glanced over and smiled at her. “This is called Eggs Pontchartrain, and I’m
adding Hollandaise sauce which is poured over the top.”

He whisked egg yolks in
a pan over boiling water, then added lemon juice and Tabasco of all things. The
man could certainly cook. And while she wasn’t fond of oysters, the concoction
he’d assembled smelled mouth watering.

He led her outside the
French doors to a beautiful deck overlooking the lake. Cypress trees leaned
over the grassy area below the deck as if thirsting for the water nearby. Funny,
she hadn’t noticed this lake last night, but then again it had been windy and
raining and her mind had been occupied with what she was going to say to Aidan
when he answered the door.

He placed a plate in
front of her. She had to admit, the presentation was gorgeous. Two muffin
halves sat on the warm plate, topped with bacon and fried oysters and a poached
egg. The thick Hollandaise sauce covered the top.

At her hesitance he
said, “C’mon, give it a try. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Not wanting to insult him
after he’d gone to so much trouble, she pushed back her dislike of oysters and
took a forkful into her mouth. The flavor exploded, rich and creamy with just a
tang of Creole spice.

“Wow,” she managed,
suddenly not wanting to stop until her plate was clean.

Aidan grinned, clearly
pleased at the compliment. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s incredible. And
you can cook! I still can’t get over that.”

He arched a brow. “Why
would that surprise you?”

She shrugged. “I don’t
know. I guess because most single men don’t cook, or if they do it’s either
steaks on the grill or something simple. This is an elegant feast, Aidan. I’m
very impressed.”

“Thanks.”

If she didn’t know
better, she’d swear he blushed. But Aidan didn’t seem the type.

“I’m surprised some
woman hasn’t captured you and refused to let go.” She couldn’t get enough of
the meal, and in fact embarrassed herself by taking a second helping. Maybe sex
made her hungry, too. Then again, maybe it was Aidan’s cooking.

Finally she was stuffed
and sat back to admire the view. “You must love living here. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s all right,” he
said.

The flat tone in his
voice caught her attention, and she turned to look at him. His entire demeanor
had changed. The smile had left his face, replaced with a disturbing frown.

“Something wrong?” she
asked.

“No, not at all.” He
stood and cleared the dishes. She followed him in and insisted that since he’d
cooked breakfast she at least be allowed to help clean up.

With great reluctance
he agreed. They stood side by side and washed and dried the dishes. Melissa
found herself intrigued by the comfortable domesticity of working alongside
Aidan like this. It was actually rather pleasant. She could grow used to
sharing breakfast with him in the mornings, especially if breakfast was preceded
by a night of incredible passion.

“What’s on the agenda
for today?” she asked after the last copper pot had been dried and hung over
the center island.

“Uhh, I’ve got some
personal business to attend to.”

There it was again.
He’d been quiet since they sat down to eat, and his mood had gone steadily
downhill from there. She turned and leaned against the counter. “Aidan,
something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s not true.
You’ve been quiet and sullen since breakfast. Did I say something to offend
you?”

He shook his head and
smiled, but it wasn’t sincere. “Not at all, 
cher.
 What could
you possibly say that could upset me? We had rip-roaring sex last night and
again this morning. I mean, there’s nothing like a great fuck to start the day
off right is there?”

A knifelike pain seared
her heart. A great fuck? Rip-roaring sex? She fought for control, knowing this
would happen, that she’d get emotional about Aidan when she shouldn’t. His
words hurt, though, no matter how she was supposed to feel.

She inhaled deeply,
forcing back the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “No, nothing better. I
really need to get going.”

He reached for her,
smoothing his hand over her hair. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay for
another round?”

“No, thank you. I have
so much to do I really need to go.” She grabbed her purse, intent on
hightailing it out of there as quickly as she could, then remembered she hadn’t
driven here last night.

“What’s wrong, 
cher
?”
he asked.

“I took a cab last
night.” So much for quick exits.

“No problem.” He
reached for his keys. “I’ll drive you back to the hotel.”

Thankfully he was
silent on the drive. She didn’t think she could handle hearing again what a
great fuck she’d been. Even though she’d tried to keep the emotion at bay, even
though she’d made sure Aidan wouldn’t think she cared about him, she couldn’t
help thinking their time together had been more than simply sex.

How stupid to think
there had been some emotional bond between the two of them. They’d had sex. And
that was all. No emotion involved whatsoever.

Aidan obviously had
already had his fill of her, because by the time he pulled up in front of the
hotel entrance he smiled and popped open her door lock. He didn’t even ask if
she was available tonight, or tomorrow, or ever.

“Thanks for the ride,”
she said, opening the door and hoping for a hasty retreat.

He didn’t disappoint.
“You’re welcome. Have a great weekend.”

Melissa fought for
control until she reached her room, then sat on the bed and let the tears roll.
The hot sparks falling down her cheek irritated more than hurt her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She’d let her heart get involved, and already she felt the hurt she’d swore
she’d never allow again. Sweeping the tears away with her fingers, she threw
back her shoulders and went into the bathroom to change.

No way was she going to
allow a man to screw with her emotions again. If all Aidan wanted from her was
a fuck, then that was fine. That’s all they’d be.

They didn’t call
her 
Frosty Cross
 for nothing. When she wanted to turn a cool
breeze in a hot man’s direction, she could do it like no one else.

Aidan swallowed past
the dry lump in his throat as he contemplated meeting with Melissa this
morning. Two days had passed since he’d unceremoniously dumped her in front of
the hotel. He hadn’t called her, hadn’t seen her and wouldn’t be surprised if
she wanted to kick his ass when he walked into the conference room.

Hadn’t he been cowardly
enough? How could he have treated her so callously after they’d made love the
other night?

He knew why, even if he
had spent the weekend trying to forget it.

Because he’d felt
something with Melissa. Something deep and, dare he think it, meaningful. The
two of them were so connected through the magic that he couldn’t break the
bonds no matter how hard he tried. And when she’d commented at breakfast that
she was surprised some woman hadn’t caught him yet, he’d panicked.

She scared the hell out
of him. Scared him so much that he’d acted as if Melissa had been nothing more
than a great fuck, when in fact she was more. So much more, in fact, that he’d
run from the emotions she’d brought out in him.

Relationships,
especially of the permanent kind, weren’t in his nature. And a woman who was
his destiny, as his mother always referred to it, was something he fought tooth
and nail against. Something about feeling a sense of duty regarding love and
forever didn’t sit right with him. He’d always thought himself a free spirit,
capable of making his own choices.

The word 
destiny
 yanked
choice away from him, and he refused to let that happen. When the time came to
pick a woman and settle down, he’d do the choosing. Magic and destiny had no
place in finding the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

Besides, the last
person in the world he should get entangled with was Melissa. She was Boston
through and through—cool, reserved and proper. They did things differently up
there. She’d come from a completely opposite lifestyle than he did. She’d never
be happy in hot and steamy New Orleans. No, best to leave things as they
were—fun and sex and nothing more, just like he’d always done with women.

His step faltered as he
approached the double doors of the conference room.

Fun and sex and nothing
more? Why did that sound so unappealing? Easy answer, he knew. Because Melissa
wasn’t like any other woman he’d met before. And she’d trusted him. He’d been
hounding her since the first day they’d met, trying to seduce her. And once
he’d succeeded, once she’d let him in, he’d dumped her on her ass and ran like
hell.

Nice move, asshole
. He wouldn’t blame her a bit for hating him.
Right now even he wasn’t too fond of himself.

Squaring his shoulders
and inhaling deeply, he crept through the doorway and found Melissa already
hard at work, piles of papers surrounding her laptop. She looked up and offered
a cool, professional smile. “Good morning.”

Okay, at least she was
speaking to him. “Morning. Have a good weekend?”

“Fine. I’ve put
together the large brochure in draft form and thought we could go over that
first this morning.”

Fine. Right into work
mode. He knew it was going to be like this. “Melissa, about the other—”

Her head whipped up and
she shot him a look that froze him on the spot. “Let’s not go there, Aidan.”

“If that’s what you
want,” he said, realizing how petty he sounded.

He pulled a chair
across from her and she slid the drafts across the table, mumbling about
something having been his idea, not hers. But her conversation with herself was
too muffled for him to make it out clearly.

“Did you say
something?” he asked.

“No.”

She wouldn’t even look
at him. He dragged a hand through his hair and sighed, more confused by his own
reaction than hers.

“Take a look at those
and we can talk about them tomorrow.” She rose and closed up her laptop.

“Tomorrow? Where are
you going?”

“Shreveport. There are
a couple new casinos there that have done a partnership with the local hotels.
I’m driving up today to check them out, then spend the night. I’ll be back
tomorrow.”

“I should go with you.
You need someone from our hotel along.”

Her gaze met his. It
was icy, devoid of the warmth and emotion he’d become familiar with. “I 
am
 taking
someone. Shannon’s going with me.”

“Shannon? Why her?”

“I suggested it to her
and she jumped on the idea. Would give her a chance to grab some PR ideas.”

Shannon, not him. She
hadn’t even asked if he wanted to go along. Sonofabitch. This was his project,
not hers and certainly not Shannon’s and he’d run the goddamn show if it was
the last thing he did.

Dark clouds obliterated
the sun, which had previously been shining brightly through the open blinds.
Thunder roared loudly and Melissa jumped at the sound, then her gaze shot back
to his.

Yes, he’d damn well
done that. And he hoped she wasn’t going to pick right now to ask him about his
powers, because he wasn’t sure how he’d answer her.

He pushed the chair
back so hard it hit the wall with a thud. Melissa’s eyes widened but he ignored
her and picked up the phone to call his sister. Within minutes it had been
settled. He hung up the phone and turned to Melissa, who eyed him frostily.

“I’m going to
Shreveport with you. It’s not nearly time to bring in public relations.”

Melissa opened her
mouth, then closed it quickly. “Fine.”

“I’m going home to
pack. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour. I’ll drive.”

“You don’t have to—”

He cut her off with a
frosty look of his own. “I said 
I
 
will d
rive.”

Without another word or
glance in her direction he left the room, feeling instantly guilty for reacting
so vehemently to her cold demeanor.

Isn’t this what he’d
wanted? Great sex and then back to business? Well, he’d wanted it and now he’d
gotten it, so he’d damn well better be satisfied with the results of his
actions. Even he knew he couldn’t have it both ways.

An hour later, he was
in front of the hotel. Melissa was prompt, stepping out just minutes after he’d
pulled up. She’d changed into a loose sundress that had his cock’s attention
instantly. Blue with white flowers, thin little straps resting on her shoulders
and the hem situated way above her knee. It flowed in the light breeze,
affording him a tempting view of her slender thighs.

She’d probably worn the
damn thing on purpose to drive him out of his fucking mind. Without a word, she
handed him her overnight bag, then got into the car. He was thankful he’d
brought the SUV instead of the Corvette. Seeing her nearly reclined in that
silky dress that clung to her curves would have driven him mad. As it was he
had to swallow the drool that threatened to spill from his mouth.

Damn she looked hot.
She turned to him after she’d buckled her seatbelt and smiled coolly, then
smoothed her dress, not bothering to pull it down where it had slid upward. The
breeze from the air conditioner wafted her sweet lavender scent through his
nostrils.

He was going to die.
Six hours of pure hell awaited him, from a demon woman who now hated him and
planned to torment him with a body he’d made fairly clear he was no longer
interested in having.

He blew out a more than
a little frustrated sigh and scrubbed his hand over his face before donning his
sunglasses.

“Something wrong?” she
asked.

He quickly glanced in
her direction, noting the slight curve to her lips. She was enjoying his
discomfort. “Nope.”

Clenching the steering
wheel in a death grip, he headed north, hoping the trip would go a lot quicker
than normal. About four hours faster would work for him.

But it wasn’t to be.
The silence permeated the vehicle, hovering over him like a sledgehammer about
to drop. The woman had a gift for icy demeanors. She answered every question
with a yes, no, fine or I don’t know, and the ones she could get by without
answering verbally, she did so with a shrug. By the time they reached Baton
Rouge, he’d convinced himself this was some sort of game whereby he had to
figure out what question to ask that would require her to answer in more than
one word.

“Do you see your
parents often?” he asked.

“No.”

“Any brothers or
sisters?”

“No.”

Would you like to
fuck me again
? No, that
wouldn’t be a good question to ask considering the circumstances.

“What would you like
for lunch?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s after twelve,
surely you’re getting hungry.”

She shook her head.

Damn but she was good
at this game.

“I’m starving, so I’m
going to pull into one of the fast food joints and get a hamburger.”

“Fine.”

Shit. So far, Melissa,
roughly thirty-eight, Aidan, zero. He hated losing.

After two and a half
hours of one-word answers he’d had enough. He started talking to himself in
French, and providing his own answers, hoping it would spark her interest
enough to ask what he was saying.

“
Pourquoi êtes-tu si fâché
?
”

She lifted her chin,
but didn’t answer his question. Not that he really needed an answer. He knew
exactly why she was angry.

“
Je suis désolé que je vous blesse
.
” And
he really was sorry for hurting her, despite his ego trying to convince him
he’d done the right thing for both of them.

Still no response, but
she shifted in her seat. If she was like most women, curiosity at what he was
saying would get the better of her and she’d start talking.

“
Je veux vous faire l’amour encore, Mélisse
.
” As
soon as he said it, he realized how true the statement was. He did want to make
love to her again, despite everything. His body hungered for her in a way that
was new to him. New, and more than a little scary.

Finally, she replied
with, “
Pas si vous étiez le dernier
homme sur terre
.
”

Oh, nice, not if he was
the last man on—”Hey! You speak French.”

“
Oui
.” She
smiled smugly and looked straight ahead.

“Why didn’t you tell
me?”

She crossed her arms.
“You never asked.”

True, he hadn’t. “Then
you understood—”

“Everything you just
said.”

Shit
. “Okay, then let me explain—”

“I’d rather you
didn’t.”

“Dammit, Lissa, we have
to talk about this!” And in a car going seventy down the freeway wasn’t the
right venue. He couldn’t even get her to look at him.

“We have nothing to
talk about, Aidan. You made your desires, or lack thereof, perfectly clear the
other morning.”

Then she did look at
him, and he winced at the pain so evident in her eyes.

“I think you
misinterpreted my actions.”

“I don’t think so.
Look, we had great sex, we both had a good time, so let’s leave it at that and
move on. I see no point in continuing to beat a dead horse. We have business to
do together, so let’s just do it and keep the personal out of our
relationship.”

He should have breathed
a sigh of relief. He should be glad she didn’t want to complicate their
relationship with a bunch of sticky emotions. He should be glad she’d seen the
event for what it was—two people having a great time fucking.

But he wasn’t glad. In fact,
by the time they reached Shreveport, he was pissed as hell at her cold
brush-off.

They visited two of the
casinos tied in to independently owned hotels, and met with some of the hotel’s
marketing staff who were generous enough to share their sales strategies.

At least during the
business portion of the day they managed to have civil conversation. In fact,
Lissa’s eyes lit up with excitement when they brainstormed marketing ideas. As
he listened to her animated voice, so full of vigor about their upcoming sales
plans, he wished she’d show some personal enthusiasm toward him.

No. That’s not what he
wanted from her. He needed, wanted, distance. At least personally.
Professionally, he could handle being close to her. But if he thought about her
intimately, he’d be doomed and would only end up hurting her more than he
already had.

Now they sat in the
restaurant of the hotel they’d booked their rooms in for the night. The little
restaurant was casual yet elegant, and they’d been seated at a small table near
the window overlooking one of the casinos. The flashing neon lights outside
mirrored their colors into his nearly empty wine glass.