Compromising Positions Page 16

  “I can help you,” he said, walking toward her. He’d already removed all of the sensitive files and computer from the office, but he didn’t trust her alone in the building.

  “Suit yourself.” She shrugged, lifting the pictures off the wall and setting them carefully in the box. “I haven’t received your card for the party. You are coming.” It wasn’t a question. As if she had any right to make demands of him.

  “I’ll need to make an appearance.” He set a picture of him and Lance arm in arm wearing scuba gear in the box. He must have been about twelve.

  “Will you be coming alone, again?” She didn’t change her tone, or stop her hands. Just intruded where she wasn’t wanted as if she had the right. As if she were more than a transient figure in his father’s life, barely older than him.

  It was the “alone” that made him pause. He always attended events alone. Bringing a date implied a level of formality, regularity he wasn’t usually comfortable with. But he had to admit, the party would be easier to get through with Sophie there to talk to.

  “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “You father is hoping you’re seeing someone.”

  David watched her turn to face him, felt her reading his reaction. Was he? Were they? They hadn’t exactly gotten around to discussing it. And he hoped they’d never have to.

  “Are you taking these too?” David asked, crossing to the collection of newer photos featuring Tessa and Lance together.

  “Yes,” Tessa said, putting a lid on the first box and opening another.

  She pushed the cart to him, then made her way to the desk. David held his breath as she opened a drawer and pulled out another framed photo.

  “This one too,” she said, slamming the drawer with her hip.

  As she walked past David caught a glimpse of it. Lance and Tessa, him and Kelly from the wedding. The one Kelly dragged and guilted him into coming to. He was the only one not smiling.

  David had hated that day. He’d begged his father not to go through with it. Marrying a woman so she would drop a sexual harassment suit was like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. But Lance claimed legal action was the only way for Tessa to get through to him. Maybe the two of them were both so twisted they deserved each other.

  “Why was it in the drawer?” David asked as she slid it in the box with the rest.

  “He was upset,” she said, as if that explained anything.

  Chapter Twelve

  David was surprised to see Sophie’s red SUV in the parking lot of her apartment building. She was supposed to be at work. He’d been expecting to see service vans, not her truck. Fishing the gym bag he’d thrown some clothes in from the passenger side of his car, he made his way to the stairs. David nodded to himself, noting the original floodlights had been replaced and new motion-sensitive lights had been added along the stairway. Better.

  At the top of the stairs, he inspected her door. The door and the frame were new, reinforced steel. The door had been painted to match the others on the converted Victorian, but an alarm warning and permit were affixed to the bottom corner. Much better.

  He knocked, listening for any sound from inside. He couldn’t even hear her coming toward the door. “Sophie?” he called, knocking again. His heart started to race. All the workmen were employed by SGI, so they all had passed a background check. But the alarm company, who had they sent? And why hadn’t they waited like he’d instructed them to? His fist hit the door again, harder. “Sophie!”

  As the door swung open, he stepped inside, lifting her off of her bare feet, crushing her against him. “Don’t do that,” he whispered in her hair. “Why didn’t you answer the door? What are you doing home?”

  She swung her legs, reminding him he still had her up in the air. Once her feet were on the ground, she took a step back and looked up at him.

  “I live here. Or at least I thought I did before I came home and found a team of worker bees all up in my business. There were twelve people here, David. Twelve.”

  Sounded about right. The cleaning team, locksmith, alarm company and maintenance crew. All with orders to be done by the time he arrived at six. It was five thirty. He dropped his bag by the potted palm and closed the door, locking the deadbolt in place. “Is that peep hole too high for you?”

  “David,” she snapped, placing her hands on her hips. “I am not something you can put on project status. I can take care of myself.”

  “You shouldn’t always have to.” Where was his thank you?

  He watched her eyes dance as if she couldn’t make up her mind about something.

  “The peep hole is fine. I was watching you outside and trying to decide if I should let you in.”

  He recognized her then, not Sophie, but that animal from the morning when she’d taken his keys. He wanted Sophie back. “Of course you should let me in. What smells so good? There’s a lemon and berry thing going on in here.”

  “I can run my own life. I don’t want you to bulldoze over the top of it. You can’t make these kinds of decisions without me. I won’t let you tell me what to do.”

  “That’s not what I was doing,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. It was a muffin explosion in there. His mouth watered in anticipation.

  “Hey!” she shouted, following him into the kitchen. “We’re not done.” Sophie slapped his hand as he reached for a muffin.

  “You hit me!” He looked at his hand in disbelief.

  “Sit,” she demanded, scooting one of the kitchen chairs against the wall.

  “You can’t tell me what to do.” Why was it that whenever this side of her came out he sounded like a petulant child?

  “You don’t like it either? Imagine how I felt, coming back to my own home, already nervous because of the break-in, to find my apartment swarming with people who refused to tell me anything until I threatened to call the cops and showed them ID.”

  He sat. “I didn’t think you would be home until after they were gone.”

  “Keep talking, because that’s only making it worse.” She was really angry. Determined. Sexy. “Were you going to take my spare house key like you did with the truck? Just never mention it and see if I notice?”

  That was exactly what he’d intended to do. “I called it all in last night. I needed to make you safe here. Do you want to move?”

  Her head reared back, making her curls ripple down her shoulders. “What? No.”

  “This is what I needed to do so you could stay.”

  She huffed her breath in and out. “David, I’m renting. My landlord is going to freak at all the changes. The door, the wiring for the alarm, the added lights to the outside of the building. It’s way over the top. All I needed was a new lock, and I was going to call a locksmith myself.”

  “I didn’t want you to have to.”

  Her fingers dug into her hips, her nails turning white. “I’m supposed to go through and find what was taken. The cleaning crew straightened everything better than it was before. I don’t even know where to look.”

  “Jewelry. The kid was after jewelry. He got pieces from the other three places he hit, but says he didn’t find yours.”

  She actually stomped her foot. Very cute. “The police told you that? They haven’t even returned my call.”

  David shrugged. “My security director called in a favor. You must have a better hiding spot than most people.”

  “I don’t have any jewelry.” Sophie sighed and turned, staring at the front door. Her shoulders rose and fell as she seemed to contemplate something. She turned and walked to him, nestling her way into his lap. “I’m not mad anymore.”

  As if an outburst like that could mellow so quickly. “Just like that?”

  “Life’s short. I’ll have plenty of time to be mad when I’m dead.”

  “I think the saying is I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  Her smile showed she really was over it. Her anger burned out as quickly as it had been ignited.

  “Nah, I’ll be exacting my reven
ge.”

  “On me? I was trying to be nice. Most women would appreciate it and say thank you.”

  “I’m not most women,” they said in unison.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Her kiss tasted of lemons and raspberries, and was interrupted by the buzzing of the oven timer.

  “What are you doing in here?” He released her, watching as she stood and exchanged pans in the oven.

  “You mean besides wishing my kitchen were as big as my entire apartment?” She smiled and slipped off the oven mitts. “When I get frustrated I cook. And since Craig and I are working out next season’s Deliver-Ease menus, I opted to test out some recipes.”

  “I pay him for that,” David said, popping a mini-muffin in his mouth. The raspberries burst against his tongue, making him grab three more.

  “Craig can’t cook. I enjoy it.” She slid a mountain of muffins into a bowl and set it next to the others. “Good?” she asked, wiping a stray crumb from his mouth.

  He nodded. “What kind are those?” He motioned toward the four big bowls.

  “Blackberry corn, like the ones that mysteriously disappeared from my fridge the other day.” She gave him a pointed look. “Lemon raspberry, toasted coconut and blueberry cinnamon burst. All low fat and sugar free.”

  “You’ve always done this for him?” It was almost a year ago Deliver-Ease had turned from being a money sucking in-house nutrition program for Strong Gyms to a profit-generating phenomenon. A success Craig had taken all the credit for, never mentioning someone else had done all the work.

  “I enjoy it, and since I get the meals at work, it pays off for me in the long run. Did you eat dinner yet? I’m trying out a couple chili recipes too. White bean and black bean.”

  “Sounds good. Do you have any beer?” he asked.

  “I don’t drink, but you could have Craig pick some up on his way over.”

  David froze. Craig was coming here, to watch them in this domestic bliss he’d never even thought to fantasize about? Craig was going to freak. Freak, and then kill him for messing with Sophie. Take him outside and ask him his intentions. And since they didn’t go much beyond dinner, Craig was going to be angry.

  “What?” Sophie asked, sitting in his lap again. “Craig lectured you on the empty calories of alcohol too?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m not ready. For Craig’s microscope. I barely know what is going on here. I can’t explain it to someone else.”

  “Me either,” she whispered back. “You’re here to keep me from eating all this food myself.”

  Pulling his head back he looked into her pale blue eyes. “You think that will work?”

  Sophie shrugged. “It’s true, and people believe what they want to believe. Besides, I can handle Craig even if you can’t. If he gets too suspicious, just start asking about Daphne and he’ll get so wound up he’ll bolt. He only agreed to come here because she’ll get sick from all the smells and arranged for a girlfriend to watch TV with her.”

  “For somebody that doesn’t lie, you’re awfully good at diversion.”

  “I can be devious, given the right incentive.” She snuggled closer. “But I won’t lie, David. If he asks.”

  “I know,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “Too much work.”

  ———

  Craig had bought it. A little too easily for Sophie’s ego. Almost as if Craig didn’t see it as a possibility. Granted, she hadn’t thought it a possibility twenty-four hours ago, but that was beside the point.

  A lot had changed in a day. Making love with David was even more than she’d hoped it would be. Almost erasing the fear from the break-in. She was still annoyed about the way David had taken charge, turning her apartment into Fort Knox. But when she saw his bag by the door her anger had faded.

  He was going to try, actively attempt to break one of his precious rules. Usually she had to sneak up on him, break the rule before he had a chance to realize what was happening. She couldn’t stay mad if he was going to try and make them work.

  Them. She was getting ahead of herself. She wanted more, but he’d made it crystal clear that was not in his plan. She couldn’t let herself read too much into it.

  She’d set the ground rules, promised him that day at the bakery no one would know. Promised him a casual, no-strings affair. And she hadn’t let him in on her realization she wanted more before they’d turned the corner. No going back on her word now.

  “What are you doing?” His breath was hot on her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

  “Cleaning up.” She stepped aside, but he moved with her. “If you give me a minute, that’s all it will take. If you keep on me, we’ll be in the kitchen all night.”

  His hands came down against the counter on either side of her. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  She spun to face him. “David, scoot. Five minutes, I promise.”

  He cocked his head to the side. When he looked down at her with those big brown eyes cleaning was the last thing on her mind.

  “What should I do?”

  “What do I look like, your entertainment director?” She held a finger to his lips. “Don’t answer that, or I’ll never get you out of here. Just give me five minutes to clean and then we’ll do whatever you want.”

  His eyes crinkled in the corners as he leaned in closer. “Whatever I want?”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Whatever you want. Now go, before I change my mind.”

  ———

  Sophie didn’t have cable and all of the books in the living room were written a century ago. Or for children. She seemed to have every Dr. Seuss book ever written. David moved to the bedroom and flopped across the bed, the cool cotton of the duvet soothing his heated skin.

  Whatever he wanted. If only he could focus on getting the most out of that promise. But she had him so overheated he was going to have to make it up as he went along. He rolled on his side, remembering the books on the nightstand on his side of the bed. His side of the bed, as if he had been there more than once. He chuckled, sitting up and fingering the books.

  “What are you laughing at?” Sophie called from the kitchen.

  Damn, this place was small. “You’ll find out in four minutes.” He yelled back. Maybe she’d stay over at his place, where there was cable and more room. But her bed was bigger. He ran his hand across it, still a little intimidated Sophie had chosen the bed with him in mind.

  Maybe they could just move the bed to the condo. David shook his head to dislodge the intruding thoughts about closet space and houses. He wasn’t going to let himself go down a road he didn’t belong on.

  He turned to the books again. Her little red paperbacks with half-naked men on the front did nothing for him, so he opened the drawer to drop them inside. He winced, watching them tumble on top of not one, but two vibrators. Which one was BOB? He slammed the drawer shut.

  “You okay in there?” Sophie called out.

  “Three minutes,” he hollered back.

  The Fabulous Fellatio book had fueled some amazing dreams, but was not on his menu for tonight. The large white Kama Sutra manual was next. He grinned, back to where it all began. This would do nicely. Opening the front cover, he noticed color coordinating tabs sticking out from the pages.

  He thumbed through, recognizing the basic positions from week one that had done him in, the female superior positions from week two he’d been fantasizing about, the sitting postures from last week that he’d finally managed to control himself through. Looking ahead he saw how the final weeks played out. Rear entry and standing, then a series called The Perfumed Garden. He noticed Sophie had made notes, listing yoga and Pilates moves to complement the poses.

  The corners of his mouth twitched. She’d said anything. He scanned the pictures again. He was like a kid in a candy store, there was no way he could pick just one.

  “What are you doing?” Sophie asked from the doorway.

  He leaned back against the pillows and leered
at her. “Homework. I need a study partner. You know anyone who’d be good?”

  “Very funny.” She switched off the light and bounced onto the bed next to him.

  He reached to the lamp on the nightstand and flipped it on. The red scarf draped over the lamp made the room glow.

  He watched the smile dance across her lips as she reached for the hem of his shirt. He lifted up, helping her take it off him. Pulling her onto his lap, he placed the book on hers. “We should practice for next week,” he whispered into her ear. She stiffened and tried to push away, but he held her close.

  “You know what you might like?” The tremor in her voice grated him like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  “Sophie?” he asked, as she reached for her Fabulous Fellatio book. He took it from her hand, replacing it on the nightstand. “I’m not going to make you do anything.”

  “I know,” she said, placing her hands on either side of his face. “Just not tonight, okay. I don’t want you to be fantasizing about someone else yet.”

  “What?” He tried to hide his laughter. As if there was room in his brain for anyone else.

  “The book says rear-entry positions promote fantasy, which has its place, but not tonight, okay? If you’re going to break your one-night rule, I want to know you’re thinking about me.”

  There was no way to not laugh at her innocence. He pulled her against the pillow with him, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “I thought rules didn’t apply to you,” he said, trying to contain himself.

  “They don’t. Stop laughing at me!” She poked him with her finger.

  “I had a one-time rule, not a one-night rule if you want to be technical. Once a break or nap is necessary, I bail. The only time I ever stayed over was with you last week, and then last night.”

  “Really,” she smiled, pushing herself on top of him. He tried to focus on the conversation as he felt her breasts pressing against his bare chest.

  “Really, and believe me I would be thinking about you. And your heart-shaped ass. I swear.” He could see she was still not convinced.