She knew he’d noticed the lack of oven. But there was the microwave and a single gas ring. Okay, she was pretty muchcamping. But it wasn’t for ever and it was worth it. ‘I usually make a salad or something.’
‘From the garden big enough to feed a small island nation?’ He turned away, his smile twisting. ‘Well, make sure you eat a load tonight and don’t have the champagne, given you’ve had those pills.’
She followed him to the door and leaned against the jamb, well aware that as she lifted her hand her tee shirt rose higher. Sure enough, she saw his eyes dart down. Her thighs burned, not because of the bee. She brushed her hair back from her face with her other hand and watched his gaze flicker first to her hair, then to her chest where her tee shirt had tightened across her bra-less breasts. Emboldened she answered him softly, full of feminine taunt. ‘Gabe, I thought we’d just established that I’m not a child.’
His gaze shot to her eyes, intensified—the black pupils expanding to obliterate any hint of the molten color. The muscles in his jaw were delineated as he clamped his mouth shut. Then he suddenly drew breath. ‘You might not be a child, Roxie, but you are a bit too much of a babe for comfort.’
Roxie froze, her body so hot she was on the brink of incineration.
His gaze swept over her one last time before he turned away. ‘So I think it’s best we steer clear of each other.’
She watched him take the stairs three at a time as if he was escaping some terrible threat. She went back into her studio and smiled. In so many ways Gabe Hollingsworth was a challenge. And Roxie, for all her inexperience, had never backed down from a challenge.
Not even the most impossible.
THREE
Gabe pounded round the park.If his apartment hadn’t been leased already he’d have moved back into it. Because finding out her age had not helped. She had that extra five years he’d thought she’d get overseas. She had enough sophistication to tempt him to tease. But it was still wrong—with the landlady thing and the dancer thing.
But then there was the water torture. Every damn morning.
After the first night he’d slept at the Treehouse, he’d been woken by the gentle sound of running water. He’d peered out of the window, thenstaredout of the window. His eyes wide, his wayward cock gaining width too. Yeah, at five o’clock in the freaking morning he’d found out who the gardener was. And how well she danced. Now every morning he was literallyrousedby Roxie watering the garden, doing some kind of insane yogic stretching while the tomatoes got their drink. She warmed up her barely covered body while watering the damn plants. Vintage music player clipped to her hip, headphones in her ears, her whole body swaying. It was enough to drive any man to drink straight spirits. By the gallon. From the way she moved—too sensually—he suspected she knew he watched. Of course he bloody watched—what man wouldn’t? And her deliberateprovocation was working—despite his attempt to defuse it between them and tell her keeping some distance was best.
Yeah, he was dying of lust. Not only did she disturb his dreams, but conscious moments when he didn’t have a tight leash on his imagination. Heached,hungry every damn minute of the day.
So now, every morning, Gabe escaped by running round the park, supposedly sticking well out of temptation’s way. Only today, a week after he’d moved in, he ran faster and harder than ever. No time at all before he was back at the hidden gate and the giant padlock. And behind that fence, watering the vegetables, Roxie was bent over in those short, short shorts. He could see the headphones in her ears as she bopped round the place, thinking she was completely alone.
Yeah, okay, he’d known she’d still be there.
Breathing hard—and not because of the forty-minute run he’d just been on—he walked closer and watched her legs in action. Thanks to the headphones she had no idea he was there. It was dangerous. Anyone could sneak up on her. Anyone who saw the way she danced in her backyard would be all over her. She needed to be taught a lesson—that the headphones had to go, the shorts had to be longer, the dancing needed to stay indoors.
He walked behind her, not bothering to be quiet, because he could hear the thumping beat of her music from here. In a sudden movement he wrapped his arms around her. He’d anticipated she’d jump, so he tightened his arms so she couldn’t flee. The hose did a snake dance on the ground spraying them both, until he kicked it away with his foot. The cold burst of water didn’t cool his insanity at all.
He let her twist round, feeling her fury, feeling his own fire as her breasts were brought flush against him. He almost growled with the satisfaction of finally having her this close.
‘What are you doing?’ she shrieked at him.
He plucked the buds from her ears. ‘No need to shout. I’m right here.’
‘Well, why are you right here, sneaking up on me like this,’ she panted.
It was sick how much he liked feeling her breathing hard against him. How hard he was breathing too. Oh, her eyes were blue this morning. And her hair in that loose plait with those recently shorn, blonder bits wisping round her face...
‘Teaching you a lesson,’ he muttered, putting both arms securely around her again. Tightening them.
‘What lesson’s that?’ She looked stunned.
‘That when you’re alone in the garden, watering whatever and doing your workout, that anyone could sneak up on you.’
‘Only some sicko.’
Yeah, like him. ‘That’s right. So you need to be more careful.’
Roxie was caught between fury and desire. In the first instance, fury won. She brought her knee up between his legs fast. Only slowing at the last possible second.
His eyes widened and he jerked—too late—she just brushed his balls.
‘I could have got you really badly then,’ she said severely.
