Bit by the Bug (Matthews Sisters 1) (9 page)

The room was brighter than he remembered and had a fresh smell to it, like lemon cleaner and disinfectant. On the long wooden table stood Kat, reaching above her head to change a light bulb. He’d momentarily forgotten he’d hired her the day before.

Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, but the dark pink streaks were still there. She wore light pink cotton Capri pants and a white tank top that showed off a hint of her trim waist. Her back was to him, but he could easily see the dark pink bra beneath the T-shirt.

And was that a tattoo? Vincent tilted his head to the side, squinting to see what was on her lower back. A butterfly, maybe? By the bright colours, it wasn’t based
on any real specimens, but a fanciful design with impossible swoops of the wings and unrealistic patterns. Before he realised what he was doing, his eyes roamed down over her butt. He might be overworked, but he was still male. Licking his lips, he stared at her hips a little too long. His body stirred with interest as the mass between his thighs lifted and filled.

Suppressing a groan, he shook his head. He didn’t have time for this – for any of it. He was behind in his mosquito research and his venom production was going to be down due to the dead spider – not that anyone was really waiting for those particular research notes but he did keep himself on his own personal deadline. He didn’t have time to be staring at Kat’s ass, no matter how sexy and appealing it was to look at it.

‘Ah! Damn it!’ Kat jumped in surprise as she turned around to find Vincent quietly standing in the doorway, another distracted look on his face, though it was hard to see more than his eyes through the waves of his sleep-tousled hair and his overgrown beard. He still wore his clothes from the day before, only they were wrinkled. She’d seen that he slept in them when she went in to give him his coffee and pastry. ‘You scared the crap out of me.’

Kat had come to work that morning only to find Vincent asleep in his office. Secretly, she’d been glad of it. After her erotic dream of him, she hadn’t been in the mood to hear his voice. It had been in her head since she’d woken up.

The building had been left unlocked. This was Manhattan, and it wasn’t safe to leave a place unlocked all night – especially as hard as this man had been sleeping. He could’ve been robbed blind and he wouldn’t have moved. When she got bored without company, she had turned on the music. The man had slept through that as well.

‘Huh? What? Oh, sorry, I . . .’ He shook his head, his
dark eyes meeting hers as his words trailed off. Vincent looked confused as he scratched the back of his head, staring at her face.

‘Well, good morning sleepyhead. I was about to go get some lunch.’ Kat leaned over and turned the music to a low hum, refusing to entertain the notion of what Vincent would really be like as a lover. After hours of contemplation, she was certain her desire for him was just some messed up psychological concoction. She only wanted him because she shouldn’t, because he held power over her even if he didn’t know he did. ‘Why don’t you come with me?’

‘Lunch?’ Vincent blinked rapidly, passing the coffee between his hands to lift the sleeve to his lab coat. He glanced at his wrist but wasn’t wearing a watch.

‘It’s about noon.’ She looked down at him from the height of the table.

‘Noon?’ He questioned in disbelief. ‘Noon? It can’t be noon. Why didn’t you wake me up? I’ve got –’

‘A lot of work to do,’ she filled in. ‘I know. So you’ve said. Listen, from one workaholic insomniac to another, you were due for a crash. Now, I’d guess you are due for some food.’ She looked him over. ‘And maybe a shower.’

‘Shower?’ he repeated.

‘Shave,’ she added, really curious to see what he looked like under his facial hair. It would probably be a disappointment, but as a photographer, she found beauty in flaws. Besides, the curiosity was about to kill her. As she’d stared down at him sleeping, she’d been close to shaving him herself. She wondered if he would’ve even noticed the missing beard.

‘Shave?’ he reached for his beard and stroked it. The look in his eyes said he hadn’t even thought about it.

‘Yeah, where do you live? Is it close enough to walk or should I call you a cab? Please tell me it’s not here in your office. Otherwise, I’ll have to take you home with me like a stray.’

‘Oh, no. I live on East Seventy-Eighth,’ Vincent said absently.

‘Pity, I could have used the roommate. Wait, you live on the Upper East and you’re sleeping here?’ Kat shook her head in disbelief. She suspected before that he might be crazy. This definitely confirmed it.

‘It’s just an apartment.’ He looked like he believed every word.

‘Hell’s just a really hot place sinners go.’ Kat grinned, looking around the room to avoid staring at him and that damned, oddly seductive, sleep-wrinkled lab coat. All the bulbs were replaced and the place was completely transformed from the dingy, dark place it had been that morning.

‘What?’ he asked, after some length.

‘Never mind. It’s something my mom says when we’re not making sense.’

‘Oh.’

Why was he staring at her all funny? She looked down, suddenly worried a spider might be crawling on her clothes. All day she’d been keeping an eye out for them and several times she was convinced she could feel something crawling on her skin, only to discover it was her imagination. It wasn’t like she could depend on Mr Distracted to remember to move the poisonous little beasts.

‘Wait.’ Vincent blinked rapidly, as if just hearing what she’d said. ‘Are you saying I’m not making sense?’

‘Want me to call a cab?’ She jumped off the table and avoided answering. ‘Or do you have a car? It’s a little too far to walk, though I think some fresh air as well as food would do you wonders. It might even make you more productive, what with all the work you have waiting for you.’

‘No, there’s a shower in the back and I have a change of clothes in the office – what have you been doing all morning?’ He set his coffee down and gingerly placed his
palms flat on the counter. ‘Where are the notes I had stacked here?’

Kat watched as he looked over the table as if they would magically reappear. She’d picked up his notes, putting them into order the best she could. Camera equipment was partially set up around the room. Without him to tell her where to start photographing, she hadn’t had much choice but to spruce the place up. She could only guess that the pinned insects she found in the drawers along the wall were what she’d be cataloguing for him.

‘Over there.’ She pointed behind her to the end of the wooden counter. ‘Don’t worry, I marked all your pages with little bits of paper.’

‘But, I was organised!’ He hurried past her to the stack she’d made of his mess. ‘I liked it the way I had it. I could find what I needed.’

Kat rolled her eyes so he couldn’t see. Impishly, she asked, ‘Want me to clean your office for you?’

‘Can you file?’

Frowning, she put her hands on her hips. ‘Did you just ask me if I could organise things into the ABCs?’

‘What, no, well yes, I suppose I did, but . . .’ The poor man really did look perplexed.

‘Well, I can’t, OK. Are you happy? I never learned how to read. All I know how to do is take pictures. You don’t understand how hard it is . . .’ Kat dramatically sniffed and turned her back on him.

‘Ah, are you . . .?’

It was really tough, but she managed not to laugh. Well, managed until he awkwardly patted her shoulder. She shook, trying to hold the sound back.

He must’ve thought she was crying, because he said, ‘There, there. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Adult illiteracy –’

It was too much. Laughter poured out of her. ‘Man, you are way too serious. Lighten up. Of course I can read. How else could I organise your notes for you?’

‘That was a joke.’ His tone was serious and bland.

‘Thanks for the clarification, doc.’ she chuckled.

‘You are . . .’ His eyes roamed over her. She waited expectantly. Even though it was foolish, she still hoped he’d say something nice to her. ‘Different.’

‘Ask me to dinner,’ she said, looking unflinchingly up into his dark eyes. When he’d come to comfort her, he’d stepped close and had yet to move back. The heat of his body radiated onto her, warming her in an instant reminder of the damned erotic dream. Though he looked a dishevelled mess, he smelled clean – like soap. It took all her control to keep the coy expression on her face. He blinked several times, as if he wasn’t following her meaning. Well, so much for the direct approach. To save face, she added, ‘You need to get out of this office and I have a feeling I’m the only person you haven’t alienated who will put up with you for an evening on short notice.’

‘I can’t, no.’ He stepped back. ‘Thank you, but I have too much –’

‘Work to do,’ she interrupted. ‘You’ve mentioned that.’

‘Yes.’

‘You know, all work and no play makes doc a dull boy.’ She winked, pretending his rejection of her request for a dinner date didn’t bother her.

‘No, technically, being an entomologist makes me a dull boy,’ he answered, heading for the door.

Kat stood in shock, watching him leave the room. Did he just make a joke? She was too stunned to even laugh.

By the end of her second week as Dr Vincent’s assistant, Kat was pulling her hair out in frustration. The man was impossible, only popping his head into the collection room once a day to check the status of her progress. She’d tried everything to get his attention, from wearing tight midriff-showing shirts to purposefully standing too close to him, giving him indecent peeks at her cleavage,
as she lightly touched his arm. All it seemed to do was run off him.

Today she wore her vintage blue strapless tunic, a silver scroll necklace, tight black slacks and very comfortable Mary Jane flats. She’d hoped the more conservative, yet still cute, outfit would turn his head. Kat sighed in frustration. If this didn’t work, she’d have to try some politician wife’s get-up and, if that didn’t do the trick, she was joining a nunnery and giving up her dreams altogether.

No, stop thinking like that, Kat reprimanded herself. Dreams aren’t meant to be easy. You just have to figure out how to crack this nut.

Dr Vincent hadn’t paid her his daily visit yet. The man spent all his time in Lab Two working with his bugs. Lab Two was a place she didn’t dare go. Turned out, Mr Bug Man also worked not only with poisonous spiders but mosquitoes. What was it with this man and bugs that bit people? Kat shivered each time she thought about it.

She was sure he’d forget to eat if she didn’t get him food. At least it looked like he showered, though he had yet to shave and she had no idea if he even left the office. He did change his clothes on a daily basis and she could never actually complain about the way he smelled.

Once he did say something about the way
she
smelled. He’d stood there, leaning in, sniffing at her with the strange, normally distracted look on his face, before saying, ‘You smell sweet. Better stop wearing the perfume. It will attract the mosquitoes if they happen to get out.’

It was the closest she’d ever gotten to a compliment from him. Though, needless to say, she did stop wearing the perfume.

‘Kat, you’re staring at the door again,’ Ella said. Her sister sat on the long wooden table, kicking her feet as she traced her finger over the clear top of the collection case she held on her lap. It came from within the rows
of drawers along the wall. Each case had a glass lid, which protected the specimens inside. Luckily, the insects were all dead and pinned down to the material covered bottom. Kat’s job was to remove the lids and photograph each bug separately, getting not only the insect but the specimen number written alongside it. It was a tedious process for the most part, but she was building a cool portfolio. She’d be able to cut them out later and add them to her canvases. Plus, some of the close-ups she got with her macro lens were really exceptional pieces of art.

‘I am?’ Kat laughed. Ella had told her she was doing that a lot. ‘Sorry.’

‘So, tell me about this Dr Vin?’ Ella set the drawer down gently. Her sister’s blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails behind her ears. The long length was bound from root to end with cross straps of leather. Her army style combat boots, blue jeans and white tank undershirt purchased from the male clothing section of a discount store was an odd contrast to Kat’s trendy chic. ‘Does he have a nice ass?’

‘I don’t know,’ Kat answered, giving a small laugh at Ella’s blunt question. She suspected he did, but it was hard to tell underneath the tormentingly sexy lab coat.

‘Is he old?’

‘I already told you, his mother said he was thirty-three.’

‘Yeah, but she misled you on the man’s job. Does he look thirty-three? And if so, is it an old, hammered thirty-three, or a cute, still vibrant thirty-three.’

‘I don’t know how old he looks. Normal thirties maybe. It’s hard to tell under all his beard hair.’ Kat slid the lid over the tray she’d just finished and took the one Ella had been holding and started setting up for the next round of photographs.

‘You haven’t said too much about him at all. Either he’s really bland, or you think he’s hot and don’t want to admit to it.’

Kat didn’t answer. She hated when her sisters were too intuitive. It wasn’t that she thought he was ‘hot’
per se
, just that it was so hard to see his features under the mask of facial hair and glasses that she was burning with curiosity. Shifting uncomfortably, she refused to think of the almost nightly sexual dreams she’d been having of him. It seemed the more she tried not to fantasise about him, the more she did just that. Jack hadn’t called and for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to be the first one to make contact – even if she needed sex with something other than her vibrator.

‘Hmm, Chatty Katty with nothing to say?’ Ella laughed. ‘Now, I have to see what he looks like. Didn’t you say he usually comes and checks on you by now? I want to meet him.’

‘He’s probably lost track of time, Ella the Fella.’ Kat smirked as they used their childhood nicknames. All the girls had them – Beggin Megan, Glowy Zoe, Chatty Katty, Ella the Fella, and
Sha-zow!
for Sasha. Sha-zow was always said with the tone of a comic book action hero in the middle of a fight. What had started as them trying to annoy each other had become terms of affection as the sisters grew older.