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“Afraid you exhausted all your connections in Hollywood to find me again?”
Sarcasm dripped from her red lips. His eyes widened. The gig was up. His mouth opened but no words formed. Perhaps now was not the time to confess he’d gone straight to the star herself for the information on Amelia.
“Close your mouth, dear,” Amelia sneered. “For the record, your stunt got me fired and now I’m going to lose my apartment.”
The left corner of her luscious mouth twitched. Nate licked his lips to refrain from grinning. She’d done the same thing their night together when she said she needed to leave after round one. “Fired, you say? Are you sure it was wise to invest your money in me?”
“I have a use for you.”
“I had a feeling you’d be back for more,” Nate said, baring his teeth and leaning forward. “But you didn’t have to pay a dime.”
The pulse against Amelia’s neck quickened against his tongue. Nate grinned into the kiss he planted against the curve of her neck. She tasted as sweet as he remembered—maple-y. He could eat her right here and now. But Brittany’s irritating foot stamp and annoying sigh reminded him they weren’t alone. Nate pulled his face away but not before capturing her bottom lip between his lips. Amelia mewed a slight moan. Whatever ailed her, he knew how to fix. Without thinking, Nate reached for Amelia’s thigh. The hem of her dress tickled against his fingers as they snaked for a touch of her petal-soft skin.
For a brief moment Amelia seemed to relax against his body. She turned her face away from his kiss and winced as if in anticipation of his touch. Again Nate grinned, but this time he blew out a breath of relief knowing he still had her. His laugh killed the moment, as did the sudden straightening of her back and the slap across his face. Nate touched his burning cheek and watched Amelia storm out. In his other hand, he realized, she’d somehow pressed the address where she was staying. Things were beginning to get interesting.
Chapter 4
Nate turned his SUV onto the gravel driveway off County Road Seventeen. Before tearing out of the parking lot he followed the closest car speeding away and took the chance that Amelia was the only one leaving the party early. Judging from a half glance at the address given to him, this was the place she wanted to meet him.
The tires crunched across the pebbles. The pulse at his wrists twitched against the black leather steering wheel as his eyes focused on Amelia’s shapely legs swinging out of her vehicle with the rented tags. The silhouette of his headlights caught the angle of her feet in her spiked heels. As his body stiffened, he was reminded to go ahead and turn off the engine and unbuckle his seat belt. So focused was he on getting to Amelia that he’d forgotten to take his keys out of the ignition when he opened his door. The sharp dinging reminder echoed against the side of the barn attached by a breezeway to the two-story home.
Amelia stood to her full height at the driver’s side. The interior light of her car shone on hips encased in her red dress. He’d never loved a color so much. He couldn’t wait to rip the material from her body. Nate stepped out and stalked toward her. Gravel scraped the bottom of his black dress shoes. A defiant smile spread across her face when he neared her body. Women did not challenge him. He loved this prelude to a proverbial dance they were about to do. Nate closed her driver’s-side door behind her, pinning her against it.
“What are you doing here?”
“Getting a start on whatever it is you want me to do to you.” The light in her car died off, leaving them alone in the night air. An owl hooted off in the distance over the sound of a diesel truck entering one of the back roads. With all the nighttime orchestra, Nate still heard her gulp, not in fear but uncertainty. Had she bitten off more than she could chew by bidding on him tonight?
“Are you going to tell me what you have in store for me now?” Nate asked. His eyes focused on her plump lips. She’d reapplied a layer of gloss during the ride over here because he knew he’d kissed off the strawberry flavor back at the club.
“In a rush to get back to Brittany?” Amelia countered. She pressed her manicured hand against his chest in a seeming attempt to put some space between them, but he felt the way her fingers lingered against his pecs.
Nate cocked his head to the side to study her face for a moment under the half-moon’s light. “Babe, you’ve got me for a full week.”
“And then?”
He grinned. “Planning on keeping me around longer than the forty hours?”
The light caught the slight red tint to her high cheekbones. “Already narrowing the amount of time you have to spend with me?”
“You paid for forty hours.” Nate dropped one hand from the car and traced the length of her left arm with his forefinger. “I’m staying for a week, 24/7.”
“When you see what I’ve planned for you—” she licked her lips and batted her lashes “—you’ll want the break in between.”
“Now you’re talking.” Nate lowered his face to hers; his lips hovered near hers as he breathed in the distinct, fresh strawberry scent. Her breast lifted forward with a deep breath of anticipation of a kiss; he decided at the last moment to not give in. It wasn’t just the lingering sting on his cheek telling him something was bothering her. She held him responsible for her getting suspended and he needed to fix this. It took all his might to tear himself away from her, but he pushed away from the car and took a step to the right. “But first we need to talk.”
Had he not been standing there so acutely aware of her body, he may have missed the way she slightly leaned forward. She caught herself and pressed her backside against her door, hid
ing her hands behind her tail. “What?”
“Is this your suitcase?” Nate asked, peering into her backseat. Before getting an answer, he opened the door and took the black canvas bag out. “All right, where are we headed?”
He moved toward the walkway to the house. Where the driveway was gravel, a cemented walkway provided a sturdier pathway to the large wooden steps of the front porch. Earlier when he pulled into the driveway, he thought he spied a rocking chair when his lights flashed on the house, but found a set of four instead. For some reason he imagined a younger version of Amelia shelling peas into a pot as a child. In his career as a real estate agent and contractor, Nate had an eye for homes, especially ones that told a story. Even in the dark, he knew this was a colonial plantation house; the wide porch and tall pillars clued him in. He couldn’t wait to get inside. Speaking of which, he realized Amelia was slowly walking up behind him. Why so shy now?
“Don’t tell me you’re worried about spending the night with me,” he asked with a teasing grin.
“I’m not,” Amelia said, standing at the bottom step, “because you’re not staying in the house with me.”
“Excuse me?” The house was so far out, it was too damn late to drive back to Southwood now and not wake the girls when he got home.
