“We damn well better.”
“I think our next step is for me to review the schematics.”
He nodded. “They’re on the computer. I’ll print them out for you in the morning.” He slammed his fist onto the coffee table, the unexpected movement making her jump. “Damn Brent. What the hell does he think he’s doing just up and disappearing on me. The son of a bitch has left this hanging in my lap. He’s the one who designed the system. He should be here trying to figure out the problem.”
He drew in a breath and she sat down next to him, taking his hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.
He exhaled, loud and long. “Don’t be. I’m glad you’re here. Hell, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I haven’t been that much help so far.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You have.”
She smiled, her wounded pride at not being able to break in fading. They had to solve this riddle, true. But they weren’t going to solve it tonight. And right now she wanted to see him smile.
She stepped back, then held out her hand for him. “Come on.
“Come where?”
“You’ll see,” she said. He stood and let her tug him into the kitchen.
Curiosity showed on his face, but he didn’t ask, simply followed.
“Sit.” She pointed to the table, and he pulled out a chair and sat.
And then, while he watched, she went to the freezer and pulled out the gallon of ice cream she’d left there the day before.
He just stared at her. “Ice cream?”
“Don’t be absurd,” she said. “I’m much classier than that.” She opened the main part of the fridge and took out some toppings. “Ice cream with chocolate and strawberry sauce,” she said.
His mouth curved just a bit, and she sensed victory. “What? No whipped cream?”
She reached in and pulled out a can. “Believe me, I’ve got plenty.” She licked her lips, never letting her eyes leave his as she pitched her voice low. “Enough for ice cream…and anything else you might want to put it on.”
That got his attention, and he watched as she carefully dished out perfectly formed balls, then drizzled chocolate over the top, garnishing the final product with a dash of strawberry goo. And then, of course, the whipped cream. She delivered it to him with flair.
“Voilà.”
“Thanks.”
She settled herself beside him and waited for him to take a bite. Instead, though, he slowly lifted up his spoon and fed her the first taste of his own sundae. It was a simple gesture, but somehow just as erotic as his earlier intimate touches. She let the ice cream melt in her mouth as she thought about this man. Kyle Radley. Prince Charming. He was perfect, and in the end, when she had to walk away, it was going to hurt like hell.
“What are you thinking about?” His eyes met hers, and she saw her desire reflected back.
“Whipped cream,” she lied. “And you.”
* * *
IFKYLE WERE A BIGGER MAN, he would have told her to take her no-strings arrangement and go jump in a lake.
But he wasn’t that strong. He wanted Mel any way he could have her, and if that meant having her in his bed until she bolted, well then, so be it.
He knew she wanted him, too, with the same passionate ferocity that burned in his veins. And at least for as long as that craving filled their blood, then she was his.
He intended to make the most of it, and now they were sitting naked in his bed, a can of whipped cream between them.
“You really want to do this?” Her eyes were wide. “Your sheets—”
