What was it with that man's timing?
Jordan raced downstairs wearing only a short bathrobe, still
dripping wet from the shower she had barely stepped out of
when the blasted doorbell started ringing.
She threw open the door to give Sam a piece of her mind, and
was dumbstruck at the sight of him in his tattered old gym
shorts and sleeveless muscle shirt. How could a man so incredibly
irritating have the ability to spark a desire in her to grab
him by the shirt and plant a hot, wet kiss on his full, sexy
lips?
"Damn, Jordan." Those incredible eyes raked over
her half-clad body. "You sure know how to answer the door
in the morning. Yesterday the sexy T-shirt, today this tiny
robe-maybe tomorrow morning you could answer the door naked."
She tapped her wet foot on the foyer
floor and gathered the folds of her bathrobe around her. "Look,
Sam. I'm in a hurry this morning, I'm obviously soaking wet,
and I really
wish you wouldn't lean on my doorbell every time you come over.
Can't you just start working without having to announce your
presence?"
He grinned and stepped inside. "Well,
I suppose I could do that, but then again I thought you wouldn't
mind if I brewed
some coffee before I started. Besides, I can't resist these
early morning views of you."
Which was entirely bullshit. He just wanted to irritate her,
and was succeeding.
"You're all wet. Why don't you go get dressed and I'll
get us some coffee?" He headed into the kitchen, leaving
Jordan standing in a puddle of water.
She mumbled under her breath as she stomped
furiously up the stairs. "I'm pretty sure this is my
house, dammit. Didn't know I had a roommate now, telling
me what to do, making himself
at home as if he lived here."
The nerve of the man. Apparently he had no manners whatsoever.
Did he barge into everyone's homes whenever he was hungry for
breakfast and wanted a cup of coffee? Or did he only delight
in irritating her?
Grabbing some clothes to put on, she hurriedly combed her
hair and headed downstairs to see about getting her unwelcome
guest out of her kitchen.
Coffee was already brewing and the cups
and cream were on the table when she entered the kitchen.
He looked up and smiled. "I'm
disappointed. You have clothes on."
Ignoring his comment, she asked, "What
are your plans for today?"
"Thought I'd get started outside," he replied as
he poured coffee. "I plan on stripping some of the paint
off the house, pulling off a few of the boards and replacing
them so I can start painting."
She took the coffee he offered, mumbling
her thanks as she sipped the steaming brew. "I still
don't understand why you're doing this work yourself. Surely
you have some laborers
who can do it for you?"
"I don't mind. I like to work with
my hands. And I'm short handed right now. My men are all
busy with other projects,
and rather than putting you off for a month or more since I
know you're in a hurry, I'll just do the job myself."
"I could have waited a bit."
"Really. A month or more?"
He had her there. "Well, no, but-"
"Anyway," he added with a grin, "this
job has great perks. I get to hang around a beautiful woman
and get
paid for it. Sure can't beat that."
"Well you're going to have to do without me today. I'm
going into town and will be gone most of the day." She
tried to ignore the fact he said she was beautiful.
"Being around me too much for you
Jordan?"
The ego of the man astounded her. "In your dreams. I'm
simply going to do some shopping." Having already had
more than enough of his comments, she rose from the table and
went to the sink to wash her cup. When she turned around, he
was smirking at her.
"I think you just can't handle being
near me."
Refusing to be baited, she replied, "And
I think you just can't handle that a woman wouldn't want
you."
His movements were slow and deliberate as he headed in her
direction. He leaned against the counter, his hip brushing
hers. The sensation of having his body touching hers was unnerving.
Jordan felt the heat flowing between them, and looked up to
object. His face was inches from hers.
He spoke in a near whisper as he moved
in closer. "Oh,
I think I could handle it if a woman didn't want me. But that's
not the case here, is it?"
When his voice caressed her like that, she couldn't think
straight. He was deliberately trying to confuse her, trying
to draw a response. A response she wasn't ready, or willing,
to give.
"I don't want you, Sam," she
lied, dipping her head down to stare at her feet, unable
to meet his gaze.
Absently reaching for one of her long
curls, he said, "I
think I scare you, Jordan. I think when I get close to you
like this, you feel something, and that scares the hell out
of you- makes you want to run."
You're running.
Dammit, the conversation was heading in a direction she didn't
want to go. She placed her coffee cup on the counter and pressed
her hands against Sam's chest to move him out of her way. But
for some inexplicable reason she left them resting on his chest,
exerting no pressure to push him back. She could feel his heart
beating beneath her palm, his chest rising and falling. Like
her own, Sam's heart beat rapidly, his breathing quickened,
and Jordan knew that he was as affected by their contact as
she. What would happen if she leaned closer instead of moving
away?
Disaster, that's what.
"I'm not running, and I'm not afraid of you. I just don't
want to do this," she said to his chest, not wanting to
look up into those deep blue pools. Fearing what she might
see or do if she looked in his eyes, she kept her gaze fixed
below his face.
"Why not?" He breathed into
her hair and lazily ran his fingers up and down the middle
of her back. Despite
the heat of the morning, she shivered. His erection was unmistakable
as he leaned lightly against her hip. Jordan found the fact
so incredibly erotic it made her legs weak. Her blood was pounding
in her ears, and if she didn't get away from him she'd do something
she'd regret.
The realization hit her, effectively shutting down the heat
passing between the two of them. She was weak. A sucker for
a charmer, just like her mother had been. And Jordan vowed
a long time ago that she'd never be like her mother.
Her body may want him, but her mind was stronger. And her
mind didn't want this at all.
