Nico followed. Then he frowned, reached down, and dragged up a pair of her lacy underwear.
“Hey, I was looking for those. Thanks.” She felt the heat rush up her neck and snatched them away. “They’re clean,” she assured him.
Nico only nodded and handed over the matching bra, which he had apparently fished out as well. He didn’t make eye contact and she would have teased him except: (1). He’d had the bad luck to find her tiniest pair. (2) She didn’t think he’d be into a discussion on her love of fancy lingerie. (3) Her embarrassment had morphed into a desperate impulse to offer to show him how it looked on, with a request for him to take it off her.
Because she had not thought this through. If she had, she would have known having Nico in the velvety night, in touching distance, in herbed, would cause some issues with her self-control. She could picture it perfectly. His mouth on hers and his hand teasing her in the darkness. She could be as loud as she wanted in this isolated cabin. She was aboutto close her eyes to build on this a bit more when she realized Nico was lying ramrod straight.
Right. They were basically colleagues, albeit on a very weird work project. It would be hugely inappropriate for her to proposition him, especially when he’d been kind enough to brave the coyotes. In fact, it was probably crossing a line to fantasize about him when he was right there.
“Good night,” she forced herself to say.
“Good night, Valerie.”
Then, somehow, despite the howls and Nico lying so close beside her, she drifted off, doing her best to keep her hands to her sides and praying she didn’t dream anything embarrassing.
Fourteen
Nico didn’t see himself as any sort of a hero, but the memory of Valerie’s relief at being protected from the coyotes—however vastly misplaced—had made him feel almost high. It was the first thing he thought of when he woke.
Make that the second thing, because Valerie had tucked up against him in the night. This was both good and potentially embarrassing if she woke up before he got control of himself. She was warm, making it easy to mark every spot they were touching: Her breast pressed against his arm, her hand on his chest, and her knee hiked dangerously high onto his hip. Valerie was so curvy that every part of her formed an appealing arc, except for that face, with its striking angularity. Her physical self was a contradiction, the same way her desire to plan memorials was at odds with her sunny personality. He hadn’t asked her about that or what was happening with Ad Astra. Maybe today he would. There was something about the quiet, secluded bunkie that begged for confidences. And other things.
He should have worn thicker pants. More layers. A ski suit.
Valerie yawned and rolled to the other side of the bed, dragging the covers with her. Luckily, the shot of cool morning air was enough to help things along, and by the time she sat up, blinking, he could face her without shame or strategically placed pillows.
“I’m so sorry for last night,” she said. “I’m such a coward.”
Her pretty hair hung smoothly to her shoulders, black in the gloomy light, and her face was soft with sleep. It gave him a sudden rush. What would it be like to see her this way every day?
“It’s not a problem.” He winced as he grabbed his shoulder. Apparently not moving for several hours so he didn’t disturb Valerie had taken its toll.
She pointed at him. “I saw that. My massage therapist taught me how to sort out morning kinks and I refuse to have you damaged because of me.” She knelt in her thin men’s pajamas and a huge pair of black-and-white fuzzy socks. “Can I touch you?”
Could she touch him? How was that a question? He cleared his throat and did his best to keep his voice low and manly, rather than squeaky with anticipation. “Sure.”
“Then lie on your stomach. You might feel this.”
That was all the warning he got. Instead of the soft, tentative touch he expected, her hands came down on him like hammers. “Oh my God,” he gasped out a minute later as he felt a muscle release from a knot that had been there so long he’d accepted it as permanent. It was like being squeezed by a pair of vise grips.
He was in heaven.
Valerie being Valerie, she found no reason stay quiet while working. “Tell me about how you started your job with Roger,” she said as her fingers went deep enough to hit an organ. It felt extraordinary.
His face was buried in a pillow that smelled like her, and he did his best to keep his hips still. Please let her not straddle him. He didn’t know what he’d do if those full thighs gripped him tight.
“Nico?”
He found his voice. “I started at the Bread Company right after university.”
“What’s your degree in?”
Nico had become used to these side quests in their conversations, and it didn’t bother him. He was grateful to have something to focus on besides her hands and the soft bed and what he wanted to do to her and what he wanted her to do to him under the covers. “Business admin, and I worked in the accounts payable department. It was easy enough, but not what I was looking for.”
“Was your goal to be Roger’s executive assistant?” Valerie leaned over and Nico paused to appreciate the sensation of her soft breath on his neck. His entire body was suffused by endorphins and this made him reckless with his secrets.
“I wanted to get into workflow management and thought I’d have a better chance at understanding the big picture working directly with Roger.”
Stefanie always said it was no surprise that someone boring enough to organize his socks would be into making endless checklists. Although she had no idea what she was talking about, years of this kind of thing had made him wary about people’s responses. He’d never told Madison, although she’d always said he should aim higher than being a mere assistant. Valerie only hummed with interest. “I don’t know what that is,” she said as she attacked his rotator cuff. “Can you tell me?”
