Between The Sheets (9 page)

“That's me and my husband.” Sheila, a mom of toddlers, headed toward Marina and motioned to the notebook. “Put me down for that one. We sleep that way so the kids can climb in on both sides of the bed.”

The Loosely Tethered position drew a response from Elizabeth, the nursing supervisor. This position had the
added benefit of keeping April facing away from Rex while he molded around her like a spoon, almost but not quite touching and still leaving her room to breathe.

But not for long.

The Shingle, a position that robbed April of her breathing space by placing both of them on their backs with her cradled in the crook of his arm. This was a protective position, with Rex assuming the dominant spot with that same lofty confidence she'd noticed earlier when he'd taken over these offices. He took advantage of the closeness, his nose hovering just above her head, his strong arms anchoring her close.

By the time they'd reached the Pursuit, which had him rubbing up against her, molding his body around hers as he chased her across the mattress, April was so high-strung that when he said, “All right, ladies. Looks like we got them all,” she shot away from him like a bolt.

She hadn't counted on Rex hanging on though, and the top of her head connected with his chin so hard his teeth rattled.

April winced, tears springing to her eyes on impact, but before she could even say “ouch!” Rex had reared back and teetered uncertainly. April wasn't the only one in the room to gasp as he rolled right off the bed.

Unfortunately the bed wouldn't let him go that easily. The dual-temperature vibrator trapped his hand before the pocket ripped away from the sheet and Rex hit the floor with a thump. The vibrator shot across the carpet and cracked against a metal heating vent.

Then all hell broke loose.

“Are you all right, Mr. Holt?” Marina asked.

No, Mr. Holt was not all right.

“You're bleeding,” Bonnie-Jean said.

“And your vibrator's broken.” Carolyn had retrieved the cracked apparatus and held it up for inspection.

Their resident nursing supervisor wet a napkin at the water bar and brought it to him.

Rex glanced up at April. “I just bit my lip. No problem.”

But there was a problem. A
really big
one.

April Accidentally had struck again.

R
EX CRADLED
the telephone against his ear and kicked the bedroom door closed. “You've got potential liability,” he told Wilhemina. “I suggest you send the Fetish Collection back to Research and Development to take another look at those open pockets. Maybe they can lower them or devise some sort of flap that closes over it. As it is the items hang out now, which can be dangerous when someone rolls off the bed.”

Or falls off, as was his particular case.

“What happened?” Wilhemina asked.

Tugging off his shoes, Rex recapped the day's events and his concerns. He didn't mention to Wilhemina that she'd provided him with an assistant who should have come with a warning label. The deed was done and now April was all his to deal with.

Perhaps he should say thanks.

He complimented April's work performance and left it at that. This telephone call wasn't happening quickly enough to suit his mood tonight, not when he could hear April moving around in the suite, which meant every second he was on this phone was another second he could be spending with her.

And he needed every second because today's mishap only confirmed what he'd begun to suspect last night—April was feeling the chemistry between them and it made her nervous.

Rex had big plans for the night and he was eager to get on with them. They'd just arrived back at the hotel. It was late and he was hungry and he hadn't even glanced inside the refrigerator yet. From the blips and beeps issuing from beyond the door, he guessed April hadn't either.

Juggling the phone between his shoulder and ear, he stripped off his work clothes and donned sweats so by the time he finished talking business and bid Wilhemina a good night, he was ready to join his lovely new assistant for dinner and his first lesson in Relaxation 101.

Rex found her hard at work in front of her laptop, still dressed in her skirt and blouse. She'd pulled her hair off her neck with a clip and traded her heels for a pair of slippers. He marveled that she still had the energy to stand after one very long day and made his way into the kitchen.

“Busy?” he asked.

“Just breaking down today's sessions.”

“I'll give you a hand after dinner.”

“No problem. I've got it under control.”

She didn't glance up. Perhaps he should have been pleased with her efficiency, but he found that he didn't like being dismissed so easily. “Hungry?”

“Um, yeah,” she said absently. “Not enough to stop working to deal with it though. It's getting too late.”

“Tell you what. You work and I'll fix dinner. Something that won't take long to prepare.”

She finally made eye contact. “Prepare? There's food here? I thought we were in a hotel.”

“I leave standing instructions to have my suite stocked with groceries when I'm in town.”

“Really? The staff stocks your groceries. That's rather…privileged.” Her eyes sparkled almost blue in the light.

“Well, I don't know about privileged,” he replied. “I
come from pretty run-of-the-mill roots, a fairly large Irish family with an Italian mother who ranks cooking right along with breathing.”

“My good fortune then.”

Pulling open the refrigerator, he inspected the contents. “How does steak and salad sound? No grill, so I can't do real justice to this London broil, but it won't take long.”

“Fine by me.”

She'd gone back to working and Rex retrieved the ingredients for a decent meal and went to work himself. After rinsing romaine lettuce and setting the leaves on a dish towel to dry, he contemplated April. He must have gotten used to all her high energy because right now, with the suite quiet except for the sounds of running water and her fingers tapping on the keyboard, she seemed almost subdued. True, she was working but still, there was something about her….

Rifling through the cabinet for a grilling pan, he wondered if she'd eaten today. Matthew had provided lunch for him, which he'd devoured between sessions. He'd assumed Matthew had done the same for her. But perhaps not, he thought, noticing the faint smudges under her eyes. She looked tired, though he guessed by the way she was typing away on the keyboard that she didn't plan to slow down any time soon.

“Wilhemina asked how your day went.” He turned on the broiler and placed their dinner in the oven.

“Did you tell her I took out another dual-temperature vibrator?”

“No. We're one for one. Technically, I took out this one.”

That got her to glance up from the computer screen and he was surprised to see her eyes narrowed. “Hopefully we won't go through any more,” she said. “The company will wonder what we're doing with them if we have to reorder.”

Rex chuckled. “Reordering product comes with the territory. No one will think a thing about it. Listen, April, I wanted to tell you how impressed I was with the information on the sleeping styles you provided. We're working well together.”

She threaded her fingers through her hair as if she wasn't sure what to do with them and winced. “I'm glad you think so.”

“I do. I'm pleased with how the day went. Especially with falling off the bed. Those pockets are a problem. I told Wilhemina and suggested she send the sheets back to R and D. Thanks to you we pinpointed the problem.”

April frowned.

He opened the freezer, grabbed a few ice cubes into a plastic zipper bag then wrapped the whole in the dish towel. “Here you go.” He handed her the ice pack. “Put this on your bump.”

She shook her head and fine wisps of hair escaped the clip to fringe softly around her neck. “You need the ice. Put it on your hand.”

He flexed his fingers to ease the stiffness. “It's just a bruise. The vibrator got me. Looks worse than it is.”

“How's the lip?”

“Won't stop me from enjoying dinner,” he said, recognizing the pattern. Circling the bar, he placed the ice pack on her head, not leaving her a choice. “In order of importance, head injuries make the top of the list.”

She stepped out from under the ice pack. “I'm fine.”

She wasn't fine. That much was evident in her prickly response. “I think I should wake you up during the night to make sure you're not concussed. I caught you hard with my chin.”

“You mean I caught you with my head, don't you?”

Ah, there they were. What was really bothering April.

Dropping the ice pack on the bar, he stepped onto the rubber mat the hotel had provided during the day and slipped both hands over her shoulders. She gasped, clearly surprised and tried to back away.

Rex held on.

“Come here.” He steered her toward a dining room chair, operating under the assumption that if he made her sit, she couldn't get away so easily.

“I'm not concussed.”

Dragging another chair around, he sat in front of her, one more obstacle in his line of defense. “I'll take your word for it, but I'm not letting you up until you talk to me.”

“Talk to you about what?”

“About what's bothering you.”

“Why do you think something's bothering me?”

Now it was his turn to frown. And notice how hard she was trying not to bump knees with him. Every brush of her silk-hose–clad leg against his jetted his pulse rate a little closer to overdrive.

“Listen, April. We've got to work together. Closely, I might add. What's bothering you about what happened today?”

“Well, now that you mention it…was it really necessary to demonstrate those sleeping positions? Something about rolling around on a bed for an audience doesn't strike me as terribly professional.”

“Under most conditions, I'd agree, but we're studying sheets.”

Her full mouth curved downward, no less tempting for its frown. She had kissing lips. Full, moist and inviting. Rex hadn't thought much about kissing lately. He'd kissed his fair share, he supposed, but he hadn't thought much about those kisses, or anticipated any with the sort of impatience he felt right now.

In fact, when he dredged his memory for the last time he'd actually thought about kissing, he remembered high school, so long ago he couldn't recall who he'd wanted to kiss. But right now, he remembered clearly how much he enjoyed the ritual and added a new item to his mental list of things to accomplish.

Kiss April.
Kiss her until she stopped frowning, until those sweet lips parted beneath his and she sighed.

“Even so, Rex,” she was saying. “I'd rather avoid being your assistant in any more physical demonstrations. If there's a need, please get someone else.”

“I could have asked Matthew.”

That sweet mouth pursed. She knew he was teasing. “You could have. He'd have done whatever you'd asked.”

“True enough.” He clasped his hands over his knees and leaned closer. “His company is paid well to accommodate me.”

“So it's settled then? You'll ask someone else to demonstrate sleeping styles or whatever else you need demonstrated in the future?”

“No.”

“No?”

He leaned in a little more, invaded her space. “I asked
you
to help me because I wanted to get close with
you.
”

Her mouth popped open and she sank back in her chair. Clearly he'd stopped her in her tracks with his honesty and as he'd planned she had no escape.

“Why?” she finally asked, and his cut inner lip twinged as he fought back a smile.

“Because I wanted to touch you.”

She blinked.

He waited, enjoying the play of emotions across her beautiful face. April clearly hadn't expected him to lay his cards on the table.

“Seemed like the perfect opportunity to introduce some closeness between us. Since we were working and had an audience I figured you would feel comfortable. You get nervous whenever I get too close. Or when I touch you.”

“Which means I don't want to get close or be touched.”

Her delivery implied that any idiot should have understood that, but Rex wasn't buying into her reasoning. “Actually, I'm interpreting it to mean I make you nervous because you want to get close and be touched. Am I mistaken?”

To say she looked flabbergasted would have been an understatement.
Downright stunned
better described her expression, and when she scooted her chair back to get away, he knew he'd read her correctly.

Unfortunately she scooted back too fast and overbalanced. The chair would have gone over had he not grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back.

She stared at him wide-eyed.

He didn't let go. “I'm not mistaken, am I, April?”

Rex pushed the issue solely because he wanted to see how she'd deal with him, needed to know if she'd admit to the truth or deny the obvious. A test.

“I can't.”

Avoidance. Interesting. “Why not?”

“We work together.”

As if logistics affected chemistry this hot. “There's no conflict. We're independent entities, off-site and of consenting ages. I don't see a problem. You're not seeing anyone and neither am I.”

She blinked, clearly unwilling or unable to accept his candor about the subject, but he found that panicked glint in her eyes very telling.

“Do you find me attractive?” he asked.

She inhaled a shuttering breath that answered his question.

“Good, because I find you attractive, too. And refreshing.”

“Refreshing?”

He nodded. “Very.”

“Rex, you can't find me refreshing.”

“You haven't given me a solid reason why yet.”

She huffed, an exasperated puff of sound that sent wispy hairs flying off her forehead. He wanted to feel those silky hairs against his skin so he leaned forward, close enough to see the sooty black lashes fringing her eyes. Close enough to see the slight flare of her nostrils when she inhaled.

The faintly floral fragrance she'd worn earlier today had faded, leaving behind only a delicate, womanly scent that was all April. He could feel the warmth of her skin beneath his hands, her sheer blouse no barrier at all.

Another breath and the moment became charged. Time stalled between them, their nearness enveloping them with the intensity of their attraction, with the chemistry that made his blood heat, made that vein in her throat throb with her racing pulse.

Rex leaned a hairbreadth nearer. He was going to kiss her. Her soft gasp told him she knew he was going to kiss her.

The question was would she let him?

The air around them stretched with expectation. The breath locked tight in his chest and his heartbeat made a wild leap as he awaited her reply.

Then there it was, a sudden softening of her mouth, an exhalation that made her sway forward just enough to let him know she'd welcome him.

He lowered his face to taste those sweet lips….

A loud crackling sound made them both jump. They
sprang apart and stared at the kitchen. It took Rex a second to realize he was hearing the crack and pop of flames.

The steak.

“Damn.” He was on his feet before he'd inhaled another breath. Good thing, too, because smoke seeped through the cracks around the oven door where his London broil was on fire beneath the broiler.

That they'd missed the smoke only proved the intensity of their chemistry. Flipping the switch of the kitchen fan to high, he snatched a pot holder from the counter.

“April, get the door, would you?” he said. “I don't want to activate the sprinkler system.” He didn't need to deal with a rainstorm on his office equipment. Especially when he hadn't gotten to kiss the girl.

April launched into motion as he pulled the grilling pan from the oven, coughing when he inhaled more smoke. But contact with the air immediately extinguished the flames, which turned out to be nothing more serious than a fat fire. Upon closer inspection, he found most of the meat in pretty decent shape.