Chapter 10 #2
As if by magic, the quiet faded, drifting into a melodic moment where music seemed to be coming from every corner of the house. Classical music. Piano music to be exact, the melody almost mournful in its simple beauty.
I was momentarily caught off guard as I poured a glass of cabernet. Montgomery was a complicated man. It was easy to tell when his sullen demeanor collided with his hero persona. Maybe I was making too much out of how he’d handled Randy, but I was still impressed.
With a laugh, a funny thought entered my mind. What had he done with the muffins? They weren’t in sight on the counter. Maybe he’d placed them in the refrigerator, which wasn’t necessary.
A single glance over my shoulder brought a smile.
I was snooping, but who cared. He certainly wasn’t going to tell me much about himself.
Why not find out on my own? I opened the fridge door, remaining church mouse quiet.
While it was stocked with everything a growing boy would need, there were no muffins.
I checked the massive pantry and the cabinets, my curiosity strong enough to kill a cat.
No muffins.
He’d tossed them. He’d really believed I had intentions of poisoning him. Was he kidding me?
I yanked open the trash compactor, snarling even before I did. No muffins.
There was also a trashcan by the end of a bank of cabinets. Something had sparked in me, an annoyance that wouldn’t be satisfied until I learned the truth.
I smashed my foot on the pedal, the metal door flinging open and hitting the edge of the cabinet. Still no muffins.
A wave of electricity hit me like a ton of bricks. Stiffening, I shifted my foot and slowly turned around, knowing who’d be standing there. I loathed being flustered around anyone, especially him.
His grin was practically evil and his arms were folded across his chest, the buttons on his shirt undone to the point I was given an incredible view of additional ink curling between the two edges of the material.
His sleeves had been rolled past his elbows, providing a much better view of his colorful art.
“Are you searching for dead bodies?” He followed my line of sight, his fisted hand flexing his muscles.
“Are there any?”
Even his casual shrug tested me. “The weekend isn’t over yet.” As he walked closer, I found myself backing further into the kitchen. Was I afraid of him or of the intense cravings he’d unleased? “If you’re wondering about your muffins, they were delicious.”
“I thought they were merely ‘edible.’”
With two shakes of his head, he inched closer. “They were incredible. I finished them.”
“All of them?” The little lilt in my voice was a dead giveaway. Ugh.
“In one sitting. Or I should say standing over the kitchen sink to contain the crumbs.”
“I’ll have you know those muffins were moister than any I’ve made in a very long time.” Which was a true statement since I usually overcooked them.
Now he was standing only inches away. Every action the man took was calculated, including reaching for both drinks. “Do you always argue with everyone?”
“No, almost never. I enjoy being around people.”
“Then why do you do so with me?” The low, sensual, and husky tone of his voice was far too captivating.
“It happens naturally because you’re an irritating man.” The brief touch of our fingers seared my skin. When I pulled my hand away with enough force beads of liquid slipped past the rim, he was even more amused.
The awkwardness between us wasn’t unexpected. Instead it was an additional allure, a perfect aphrodisiac. As if tasting the forbidden was everything I’d ever wanted. If I didn’t want to lie to myself, I’d admit that was exactly what I’d been thinking since seeing him without his shirt.
“What were you doing, checking for intruders?” I asked, the question meant as a casual break of the ice, but I could tell almost instantly, I’d hit the nail on the head.
“You can never be too careful, Fleur.”
“This is Stowe, a city where everybody knows everybody. Well, almost. I guess I don’t know all five thousand people, but a significant number of them, half shopping at my store.
Maybe not half. A third. Okay, if I’m being entirely honest, maybe ten percent.
” And I was being generous. Why was I word vomiting?
Because the way his hot breath was cascading across my skin left me in shambles?
Or maybe the musky scent I’d yet to get enough of.
Even the slow and steady fall of his hooded eyes created a pool of wetness between my legs. If my nipples were any harder, they’d break off in the cold. Speaking of which. Why was it so cold in the house? Certainly not because of him. He was a hot body in the worst of ways.
I bit my lower lip, avoiding a dangerously effective moan.
“Do I make you nervous?”
“Lackluster sales make me nervous.”
Why was it every time he smiled, I was pulled into his universe, envisioning all the ruthless actions he’d taken in his life? “There’s no need for you to be frightened of me.”
“I never said I was frightened of you. I wouldn’t be here if I was. I’m going to assume the people who should be terrified of you are the ones who had anything to do with your injury.”
He lifted his glass. “You’d be right.”
“Who are you, Montgomery? I mean other than some rich guy able to take time in a town you obviously don’t enjoy visiting to heal?”
“Just a guy finding a place to rest.”
“You mean hide.”
His face lit up. “Staying away from the fray of my business, nothing more.”
“Why were you shot? Do you know who did it? Are the police involved?” The questions seemed to flow easily.
Every time he crowded my space, my heart skipped a couple of beats. Tonight was no exception. Without touching me, he guided me against the back counter, his body only inches from mine. “Have you thought that maybe you don’t want to learn anything about me?”
“Why would that be?”
“Because it’s entirely possible you won’t like the answers.”
Frowning, I knew he was right. “Fair enough. We’ll skip that subject.” I took a sip of wine, every inch of me quivering from the closeness. This was his way of fighting back, keeping me on edge. “One last question. Are you a killer?”
The slow and steady smile crossing his face wasn’t an admittance, but something equally nefarious.
He planted one hand on the counter beside me and I followed the line of his arm, my eyes stopping on the skull with a sword running through it.
It was quite possibly the most beautiful tattoo I’d ever seen.
“Don’t answer that question,” I added. “I think women fantasize about big, bad, dangerous men in books and movies, but don’t realize when they’re faced with one, the reality is much… different.”
“Is that so?” Without asking, he took the glass from my hand, placing both on the counter. With both his hands now firmly planted on the counter, I was wedged in. Almost as if I’d become his prisoner.
The closeness was oppressive, yet his subtle actions of dominance were definitely seductive. My throat was dry, and my usual chatterbox self was finding words difficult. “Yes.” He lowered his head and I thought he intended on kissing me. I even lifted my chin, although my lips were parched.
“I guess I’ll need to change your way of thinking.”
He was taunting me as he’d done before, testing my resolve or perhaps asking for my judgment of him.
Whatever the case, my nerves were frayed.
There was no reason. He’d done nothing overt or anything considered threatening.
Well, maybe to Randy. But if he’d made the statement as Montgomery told me, the burly man had deserved the angry challenge.
I placed my hand on his chest, every inch of my skin feeling flushed. Without thinking, I ducked under his arm.
He snatched my wrist, yanking me back. The symphony of moves was almost in perfect rhythm to the piano music and for a few seconds, we did a little dance, an unchoreographed taste of passion.
But when he cupped both sides of my face, I was pulled into a quiet vacuum where there were no sounds other than the rapid beating of my heart, nothing else around us.
Only the intense look on his face before he captured my mouth.
In the beautiful moment of tasting him, hungering for him, there was no need to remind myself once again this was only for one night.
But what a night I knew it would turn out to be.