Blindsided Page 14

  Nic had the good sense to do so. “If you want,” he offered as he headed for the remote, “I can go do the room checks and then hang out in the lobby for a while.”

  Logan tore his tie loose and pushed open the closet door. “Thanks, but the moment’s gone.” Not that the effects were. Not by a long, long shot. His heart was still pounding and his senses were still on high alert. If Cat walked back through that door, he could pick up where they’d left off in a heartbeat. He tossed his tie around a hanger and stripped off his jacket. Bending over to remove his shoes, he realized that Nic hadn’t turned on the television. He tossed one shoe into the closet and glanced over to see Nic staring down at the carpet. What was the saying? A frown is a smile turned upside down?

  “What now?” Logan asked as he got rid of the second shoe.

  “She’s pretty cute. And she’s just frickin’ gorgeous when she’s all worked up.”

  She was also intelligent, articulate and the most decent person he’d ever met. But telling Nic all that was just too personal. He yanked out his shirttail. “So what?”

  “So I can see why you’re attracted to her.”

  Nic was heading somewhere. “I’m hearing a but waiting to happen. Would you just spit it to hell out?”

  He had his shirt unbuttoned and halfway off before Nic answered, “I’ve spent way more time around her than you have. She’s a nice woman, Logan. She’s not the kind you boff for three weeks and then leave behind.”

  “I know that.” He reached for the hanger.

  “She’s the kind of woman my mom is hoping I’ll bring home.”

  He froze as his gut twisted. The hanger in one hand, the shirt in the other, he turned and looked his friend square in the eye. “You’re interested in Cat?”

  Nic shook his head. “You’re not getting it, man. I’m saying that Cat’s the kind of woman a man marries. Don’t even get started with her if you’re not seriously thinking about going down that road. She doesn’t deserve to get hurt.”

  He knew that, too. He went back to hanging up his clothes. “Well, don’t lose any sleep worrying about it, okay? We’re both adults and we know where the line is. Neither one of us is going to cross it.”

  “You’re an idiot,” Nic said quietly as he walked past. “I’m going to go make the rounds.”

  An idiot how ? Because he thought there was a line and there really wasn’t? Or because there was a line, he didn’t have a prayer of staying on the safe side of it and Cat was going to get hurt? Or was it something else? Something bigger. Was Nic interested in her? He hadn’t really answered the question. Logan scrubbed his fingers through his hair. He was going to explode at any minute. God, he needed a beer.

  The bar was unlocked. Okay, no beer. Nic had cleaned them out. A workout, then. He’d exercise until his body was too damn tired to want. And then he’d sit in the motel hot tub and think about the pluses of drowning himself.

  Cat dropped her shoes and collapsed on the end of her bed. How long was it going to take her to lose the shakes? she wondered. Considering that they were for about a half dozen reasons, it might be next year. Lord, she’d thought that be tween Ben and the onset of perimenopause, these kinds of urges were long gone. It had been at least twenty years since she’d gotten even the least bit squirmy over a kiss. That one had taken hot and bothered to all new heights. Amazing. And just too damn good to be at all embarrassed about it. Now, having Nic almost catch her in the act…that she could be embarrassed about. Forever. At least it hadn’t been Kyle or Millie. She’d have had to kill herself if they’d walked in.

  But she hadn’t been caught. Logan had saved them just in time and then pulled off a smooth as silk escape for them. Bless his hunky heart and experience at this sort of thing. God, he was good. Really, really good. He could give lessons.

  Cat grinned. Lessons on all sorts of things. She’d sign up for them. They’d have to be private lessons, though. Very private. Boy, could he flip her switch. How long it would take for the novelty of that to wear off and for ho-hum to set in, she didn’t know and couldn’t guess. But it would be a ride to find out.

  “Pollyanna,” she said, sliding an arm out of her dress, “is dead. No services pending. A memorial has been established with the Lingerie of the Month club.”

  Was that…? Yes, the light on the phone was flashing. Her heart shot up to her throat. Had…? No, Florence had her cell number. If something had happened to Kyle or Millie she would have used it. A bit calmer, she picked up the handset and punched the message button.

  There were two and neither of them was a crisis. Cat hung up the phone with a sigh of relief and the perfect plan for bringing herself the rest of the way back to earth. Lakisha had faxed her some information on the auction; stuff that needed a decision made the minute she got back to Wichita. The business center downstairs had called to say that they had it waiting for her and were open 24/7.

  She’d just change, snag a split of Zin out of the honor bar and go pick that puppy up and figure things out while decompressing in the hot tub. And when she’d turned herself into a prune, she’d come back upstairs and sleep like a baby.

  Chapter Nine

  T he feet stopped just at the upper edge of her peripheral vision. Cat glanced from her file toward the door. Her heart skittered for a second. It might have gone to her throat if Logan Dupree hadn’t looked like a man facing a suicide mission. But he most definitely did and so her heart just kinda sank to somewhere around the water jet that pounded her midriff.

  For a second she thought he was going to turn and walk away. Hope died a quick and permanent death when he shrugged and reached for the hem of his sweat-soaked T-shirt. An entirely different kind of hope bloomed as he drew it over his head and tossed it on one of the plastic pool chairs. Well, maybe not hope, she admitted as he stripped off his sweatpants. More like appreciation. Oh, yeah. Deep appreciation. There hadn’t been a more wonderfully sculpted set of pecs and abs since Michelangelo had whisked the cover off David. Talk about voilà! moments. And legs… Lean and long and… God, the muscles were the ideal stuff of late night TV ads. She’d never seen anything like them in real life.

  Altogether, he was an incredible package of stunningly gorgeous male physique that even the boxer style swimming suit couldn’t play down. If he could dance, Chippendales would hire him in a New York second. Hell, if he’d be willing to just walk out, turn and walk back, they’d sign him up. Which, all in all, was pretty damn intimidating. She considered tugging the edge of her bathing suit down over her butt, but quickly decided against the effort. One, because it wouldn’t go anywhere near far enough to matter. Two, because the bubbling, swirling water was a fairly decent camouflage. And three, because it would be just too pathetically obvious that she was nervous.

  He didn’t seem to suffer from buzzards in his stomach, though. Nope, he sauntered over to the edge of the hot tub, down the steps and in like he did it every other day of his life. Which he probably did, she realized. For physical therapy. She had the bills from the rehab clinic to prove that hockey players spent a helluva lot of time in front of water jets.

  Of the two of them, she was probably the only one who had even a niggling fantasy about making love in one. Given that he’d yet to look her in the eye or so much as grunt in greeting… She needed to put her overexcited libido on the shelf and get a grip. And she needed to do it now.

  She snagged her split of Zin, polished it off and then turned to sit on the seat and face him. The water that had been only to her waist when he’d come in, went to just beneath her shoulders with the shift in position. Feeling a lot less exposed and a little braver, she smiled and managed a breezy, “Hello, again.”

  He leaned his head back against the surround, stretched out his legs and closed his eyes. “How goes the scouting reports?”

  His indifference was a godsend. “I don’t know. Haven’t gotten to them yet. Lakisha faxed some auction information while we were at dinner and I got sidetracked in dealing with that.�
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  “How goes the auction?”

  “I think it’s going to be a wonderful event.”

  “That’s good.”

  Okay, obviously indifference was a double-edged sword. Now that her nerves had settled and she’d found a bit of Zin-induced confidence, it was kinda insulting. No one liked to be dismissed or ignored. And she was as human as the next person. “Would you mind being put up for auction?”

  “Yes.”

  Amazing how empathic a single word could be. She grinned. “Aw, c’mon, Logan. Be a good sport.”

  He opened his eyes and met her gaze. “Oh, I’m one of the best sports you’ll ever meet. The answer’s still no.”

  Good God, he was smoldering! And it wasn’t the flash kind of heat that came from thinking about being auctioned off to the richest woman in town, either. Oh, no. The hunger that had been in his eyes just before he’d kissed her was still there. Only deeper and harder. And a lot closer to being out of control than the last time she’d seen it.

  He closed his eyes and went back to his silence. It didn’t help her one bit. She knew what was percolating behind it. And there was no denying that her heart rate was going ninety miles an hour. And not out of fear. No, it was sheer delight and anticipation. Every nerve in her body tingled with it.

  God, she was insane. Completely and totally insane. And, because she was, that certainty had absolutely no effect on her rational mind. Kyle had a poster in his room. A quote from The Great One. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. She’d made sure that Kyle understood that Wayne had been talking about life in general, not just hockey. And if the lesson applied to the son, it also applied to the mother. Odds were she was going to regret the decision, but she’d rather that than always wonder if it might have turned out well if she’d taken the chance. She moistened her lips with her tongue and took a steadying breath. “Logan?”

  “What?”

  “I was wondering if—”

  “No,” he said firmly, his eyes still closed.

  If she really wanted to be a coward, now was the time to go for it. He’d never know that she’d chickened out. Only she would. For the rest of her safe, boring, goody-goody miserable life. “May I please finish?”

  “The answer’s going to be no, but go ahead.”

  No? Let’s see. “I was wondering if maybe it isn’t time for me to try some different things. Life’s gotten a little too predictable lately and I’m bored.”

  His jaw tensed a couple of times and he shifted slightly on his seat. But his eyes were still closed when he drawled, “Like what kind of things?”

  Getting straight to the point would have been way too easy on him. “Oh, I don’t know. Say, low-carb peppermint ice cream.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Bungee jumping.”

  “Get real.”

  Cat grinned and studied his jawline. Yep, the tension was out of it. The time was right. “Well, I’ve never had a brief affair.”

  Even the bubbling water couldn’t hide the fact that he stopped breathing. And his jaw didn’t turn to granite again. Nope, it went slack. She waited until he opened his eyes and looked at her before she added, “If I were willing to give that a shot, would you be willing to show me how it’s supposed to be done?”

  It took him a minute to clear his throat and sit up straight. “Like a personal coach,” he said. His voice was calm and controlled, but she could clearly see the warning in his eyes. Watch your step. Don’t mess with me.

  Think I’m going to back down, Dupree? “Yeah. Although probably more like a personal trainer than a coach.”

  A faint smile tipped up the corners of his mouth. It was a done deal and they both knew it. “It depends on who you’re thinking of having the affair with.”

  “Nic,” she countered, grinning and easing off her seat.

  “No way.”

  “Georgie?” she suggested as she floated across the tub.

  He laughed. “You don’t need a trainer, you need your head examined.”

  Goody suggested that she slide onto the seat beside him and pretend to be something of a lady. But the bunny had already had one panty-scorching kiss and wasn’t interested in pretenses. She slid over him, planting a knee on either side of his hips and both hands on his shoulders. “How about with you?”

  Looking like a kid trying to be cool in a candy store, he put his hands on her waist and kept her from coming any closer. “Define your idea of brief.”

  “A week. Maybe two. Definitely less than a month.”

  So much for the attempt at cool. He grinned. “And when is it that you’d like to start?”

  An hour and a half ago. She twined her fingers through the hair on his nape. “I think now would be just perfect. How about you?”

  His hands tightening around her waist, he checked her effort to lean into him. “Sweetie,” he said, his voice just as tight as his grip on her, “my fuse has been lit all night. If we start something right here, right here is where it’s going to end. In about ten seconds flat.”

  Talk about power. Knowing that she had it was beyond nice and way into wow. Part of her was tempted to push the limits of bad. Another part said ten seconds wasn’t going to be nearly long enough. “It is a little public, I suppose. Would my room be better?”

  He nodded and rose to his feet, carefully setting her on hers in the process. His hands stayed around her as she turned toward the stairs. He took them away at her first step. “I’ll give you a five-minute head start,” he said when she was out and reaching for her towel.

  She nodded. Discretion was a good idea. Running into one of the boys on his way back to the room with a bucket of ice—while they were on their way to hers—wouldn’t be fun. No explanation for being together would get them off the hook. The boys weren’t toddlers.

  Her towel wrapped around her waist, her sandals and cover-up on, she turned to retrieve her auction folder from the edge of the hot tub.

  Logan, still in the water, handed it to her. “If you change your mind,” he said, “just hang the Do Not Disturb sign out on the handle and we’ll both pretend this moment never happened.”

  No way, Dupree. She smiled, winked, said, “See you in five,” and left him to do whatever it was men did with five minutes to kill. Lord knew that five minutes was going to be cutting it really close for a woman about to get lucky for the first time in over two years.

  Logan let himself into his room, ignored Nic’s quick look, and went straight to the closet. Stripping out of his wet clothes, he pulled on a dry pair of khakis and a clean T-shirt, then scooped up the pile on the floor and carried it into the bathroom. Nudging the door closed with his shoulder to cut down the view Nic had of the mirror, he threw the damp mass in the tub and then made quick work of the reason he’d had to come back to the room. Two ought to be enough, he decided as he slipped the foil packets out of his shave kit and into his pocket. He couldn’t spend very long with her. Much less the night. Nic would make his life a living hell if he did.

  Logan considered his shoe options on the way to the bureau to get his wallet. Anything more than flip-flops would be a hassle. In getting them on, but mostly in getting them off. And he wasn’t in the mood for taking any more time than he absolutely had to. He was slipping his feet into them when Nic asked, “What’s up?”

  “Nuthin’.” That I’m going to tell you about.

  “Where you going now?”

  He headed for the door. “Down to the gift shop for something decent to read.” If Nic said anything in response, Logan didn’t hear it. Between his flip-flops and the pounding of his heart, the rest of the world could end and he’d never know it.

  He’d have preferred to have this little rendezvous on the spur of the moment; by deliberate decision always took some of the thrill out of it. Not enough, he admitted, grinning, to pass on it, though. Yeah, it was probably a mistake. Something he was going to look back on and wish he hadn’t done. But right this second, he was feeling luckier than he had sinc
e he couldn’t remember when.

  God. He’d once looked at Cat and thought of her as cute in a kid sister sort of way. Well, it hadn’t been anyone’s kid sister who had settled herself across his lap in the hot tub, that was for sure. Hot had taken on a whole new meaning with that little move. Not that he’d been surprised by her willingness to do it. Cat wasn’t a wimp. And the Shirley Temple-Pollyanna thing was… Okay, it was real. She was a to-the-bone innocent in so many ways. So idealistic and optimistic. The combination of all that and a kick-ass body… Jesus, when she’d leaned down to towel off her legs… The oversized shirt she used for a cover-up hadn’t concealed even one awe-inspiring curve. She was just too damn sexy to turn down. Not tonight. If he needed to, he would kick himself for it later.

  Cat slammed the hair dryer back into the wall receptacle and did a quick check of the time. Ten minutes. He was late, thank God. There were still a couple of things she wanted to do. No, she corrected as she left the bathroom, there was a difference between “need” and “want” and she really needed to soften the light in the room. Bright light was no friend to a forty-two-year-old body. Especially one that considered deliberate exercise a form of corporal punishment.

  She turned off all the lights except for the pole lamp on the far corner, the one with the three-way bulb, then turned down the covers on the king-size bed and fluffed the pillows. And then she stood in the center of the room, hearing the sound of passing traffic, the pounding of her heart, and the niggle of doubts. Had she crossed the fine line between direct and slutty? It would be easy enough to do. She had absolutely no experience at this sort of thing. Had Logan sent her on to the room never intending to follow her? What if he didn’t show up? She really didn’t know if she had the umph to pretend she hadn’t been turned down.

  She had pressed her hands to her stomach to still the butterflies when there was a knock on the door. One quick, light rap. The sound of a man trying to arrive without attracting undue attention. Grinning, she bounded to the door and pulled it open.