Body Rocks [The Andersons 3] (Siren Publishing Classic) (6 page)

“Whoa, go easy on him, Sammy,” he said quietly but firmly. “He’s only looking out for you. I would do exactly the same for Jessica if she had gone through what you have. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her,” he then told Matt.

“Have you got a girlfriend?”

Daniel suppressed the urge to laugh at Matt’s question, a question he thought was a little on the absurd side. “No, unless…Sammy, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.

He turned back to Matt. “Well, yeah, Matt, I do have a girlfriend.”

“Funny. Real funny.”

“Leave us alone, Matt,” Daniel said in a tone low enough to be considered as a warning, albeit a friendly one. Matt didn’t respond, but just grinned, turned on his heel, and left.

Daniel waited until he felt certain Matt had indeed gone and then dropped down onto the blanket beside Samantha. She immediately moved into his lap and straddled him with her thighs on either side of his. He silently groaned at the heat from her pussy filtering through his swim shorts. Her fingers doodled on his chest, and her hot breath teased his ear.

Any other time, he would have returned her sensual touching with some of his own, but Matt’s appearance had well and truly put him off. He pushed her back. Her hurt expression instantly made him feel like an asshole. She bent her head to stare at the blanket, but he tipped her face back up to him. Her eyes had lost the lava spark and instead shimmered with a watery light. No, forget about feeling like an asshole—he
was
an asshole. Period.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m just not in the mood.” He grinned to further soften his rebuff. “But let me assure, when I am in the mood, I’m gonna blow you away.”

“Oh, my,” she said, putting her hands to her chest and laughing, “that’s the loudest trumpet I’ve ever heard.”

He chuckled and poked his nose into the picnic basket. “I’m starving, and there’s a meat pie in here with my name on. Oh, meat pie, where art thou? Come to papa…”

Daniel trailed off when he clapped eyes on the jar of chocolate spread. Holding it in his hand, he blinked and swallowed the hard lump in his throat. Oh, Christ. Two fantasies within touching and licking distance? “If you’re a veggie,” he began with a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “If you’re a veggie, should you be eating chocolate spread? I’m sure there’s some sort of animal fats in it.”

“Nope, this one’s for veggies,” she said, taking the jar from him and unscrewing the lid. She stuck a finger in and, holding it aloft, licked the thick, brown gooeyness clean off. He felt sure she hadn’t done it to arouse him or elicit any sort of response from him, but it had, and in more ways than one.

He hadn’t been in the mood a minute ago, but he sure was now. Before Samantha could blink, Daniel snatched the jar of chocolate spread from her hands and rolled her body beneath his, her hips cradling his cock as though she’d been specifically made for him. His hands reaching for hers, he lowered his face into the crook of her neck. She squirmed as he traced his lips against the soft flesh, still chilled from their dip in the pool.

Heat knifed through him as her subtle flowery scent infused his desire for her. Christ, she was so beautiful. So soft. So sexy. So stiff…Stiff? What the fuck? He looked up. The first thing he noticed was her face rigid with fear. The second was where his hands were—wrapped around her wrists, held above her head, pinned to the ground.

Immediately, Daniel released her hands and jumped to his feet, horrified and disgusted with himself. If he was trying to erase memories of Raven’s assault from her mind, he was going the wrong fucking way about it. “Omigod! Sammy, I’m sorry, so sorry. Please forgive me?”

Even as he said it, he knew he’d blown his chances. He was such an asshole, always in a rush. He wanted Samantha real bad. He wanted her relaxed and comfortable, and utterly boneless for him. Until she was crying out for him to plant his rock-hard cock between her legs and give her the fucking ride of her life. To have his name on her lips when she came would be better than his own climax.

However, following that performance, Daniel knew there wasn’t a fucking snowball’s chance in hell of that happening. Nor did he deserve Samantha’s forgiveness. He also wouldn’t blame Matt if he sliced and diced him. In fact, he would sharpen the knives for him. Stick them in, too. And then when he was done, he’d hand the knives to Matt so he could finish the job.

Samantha stood just outside the glazed double set of doors. Filled with the delicious aroma of Danish pastries and freshly-brewed coffee, and the not-so-delicious smells of bacon and sausages, the dining room of the Silver Creek B and B was buzzing with tourists—couples, families, activity groups—all enjoying the hearty breakfast on offer and planning their day ahead.

However, her focus was on the lone blond-haired man dressed in the open-necked, gray, military-style, short-sleeved shirt seated at the table in the far corner. Knife and fork positioned as if to eat, Daniel stared down at the food on his plate not really seeing it, his expression thoughtful and just a little bit lost.

It really was a heartwarming sight. Overnight, she’d thought long and hard about what had happened the day before, concluding she could forgive Daniel because he had the decency to know right from wrong, unlike Mark Raven. There was another reason for her decision. What with thinking too hard and with the previous day’s events whizzing around in her head, she’d forgotten to take her sleeping pills. She hadn’t needed them. Not only had she slept like a log, but she hadn’t had a nightmare about Raven. She had Daniel to thank for that.

But even so, doubts had crept in. Oh, not doubts about wanting a relationship with Daniel—she still wanted that—but there was something about Daniel that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She didn’t know whether it was his looks—the way he grinned at times, like the cat that had gotten the cream, or the way those jeweled amber flecks in his blue eyes lit up with heat and desire—but there was something very, very familiar about him. As though all her life, she’d subconsciously known him as another man.

Oh, what piffle!
Samantha snorted and approached Daniel. Daniel was Daniel and nobody else. He showed no indication of knowing she stood before him until she said, “Are you going to eat that?”

He jerked his attention up from the plate and just as swiftly rose to his feet, causing the chair to fall backward onto the carpet with a soft thump. He righted the chair and then gestured for her to sit. She gave a nod of assent, and once seated, he got down on his knees before her and took her hands in his. Startled, she glanced around, already seeing that diners were looking in their direction, some even craning their necks for a better view.

“I am so sorry for yesterday—” Daniel began but she interjected.

“Daniel, get up. Everybody’s looking.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” He must have sensed she was even more startled by his harsh tone than his swearing, for he then smiled and said, “Sorry, I mean a, um, a fried egg. I don’t give a fried egg.” She returned his smile, and he continued. “Like I said, I’m sorry for yesterday. What I did was unacceptable. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“Of course I can, Daniel. It was probably my fault, anyway.”

“No, Sammy. It is never your fault. Never. Ever. The fault lies with me. And me alone.”

His hands still held hers. She glanced down and marveled at the contrast in size. Apparently she had smaller hands than Julie Andrews. Well, according to the prints encased in cement outside the Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, anyway. Slipping her hands free, she turned his over and studied his callused palms before meeting his eyes. “Daniel, will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“No secrets between us.”

“Never.”

Was that hesitation she heard? She stared deep into his blue eyes. The amber flecks began to glow. It was strange, but she could have sworn she’d seen those eyes before, and not on Daniel, either.

“Baby?”

Samantha shook her head. She was thinking too much. “I want to move back home. Will you help me?”

A frown formed over his glowing eyes. “Move back home? But you already live at home.”

“Mona and I bought a house out on Second Street about three years ago,” she explained while Daniel moved to sit opposite her. “She lives at the vets’ now with Rex. After Mark attacked me, Ross and Rex moved my stuff back home with Mom and Dad. Then Matt, who was living with Mona and I, moved back as well. Which was okay at first, but after yesterday…Well, you know. And I’m rambling and not making sense.”

Daniel grinned and placed a well-loaded fork into his mouth. He chewed slowly, swallowed, and then asked, “Rex? Who’s he?”

“Rex Latimer. Mona’s work partner. They’re also partners of the other sort, but don’t tell anyone I told you that. Mom and Dad obviously know, but Mona doesn’t want to broadcast it to the rest of the world just yet.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Well, hello, Sam,” a deep voice said from behind her. “Can I get you a coffee?”

Samantha turned to a bear of man who stood a few paces back with a coffee pot in one hand and a cup in the other. David Thacker, the B and B’s owner, might have the physique of a grizzly, but in reality, he was a cute teddy bear. Well, apart from his daily and locally famous rivalry with Phil Harrison, the owner of the Slumberland Hotel.

“Yes, please,” she said, nodding and turning her attention back to Daniel. The laden fork poised at his open mouth, his tanned complexion had paled slightly. She would say he looked a little rattled. Surely his reaction wasn’t caused by the use of the name “Sam”? She thought he knew she was named after Sam Carrick, her mother’s former partner who had died in the line of duty some thirty years ago.

Then the expression vanished, and he shoved the fork into his mouth. He chomped, swallowed, and then the “cat that got the cream” grin surfaced. Oh, well, perhaps she’d imagined his reaction and perhaps she was thinking too much again. Samantha blew the steam from her coffee and returned Daniel’s grin, her whole body warming as the amber flecks in his blue eyes began to glow.

So familiar…

* * * *

Your secret’s safe with me.
Christ, there were too many secrets already, Daniel thought as he finished his breakfast. However, remaining quiet about being Sam Carrick’s half brother was the least of his worries. He was more concerned about his cock. He was damned sure it was going to explode. Samantha’s womanly curves, clothed in snug-fitting denims and an equally snug-fitting pink T-shirt, were tempting, but it was her topknot that really pumped his blood.

Her bruises were now fading fast, and with her hair up, it showcased the soft lines of her neck. Her subtle flowery scent reached his nose. He inhaled deeply, and his heart took a little tumble. His cock resembled a rod of granite at the thought of running his tongue over her scented flesh. Would she tremble in his arms and make little noises of delight? Would she allow him to turn his fantasies from dreams into reality? He damned well hoped so.

With a growing certainty, Daniel knew he was falling for Samantha. Armed with that knowledge, and if he had any common sense, he should ignore his godmother and tell Samantha that he was Sam Carrick’s half brother. But from the moment Samantha had walked into her parents’ living room two days ago, his brain had gone AWOL, and he’d be damned if he could locate it. He only prayed allowing the past to lie wouldn’t blow up in his face later.

“So you’ll help me?”

Daniel shook his head. “Huh? Help you with what?”

“Move back home.” Her mouth curved into a sexy-as-sin smile. “Have you heard a word I’ve said?”

He returned her smile. “Truthfully? No.” He stared her straight in the eye and took a gamble. “Sammy, I was thinking about running my tongue down your neck.” His gaze dropped to her lush breasts. “I’d also like to run my tongue over your tits. Will you let me?”

For a moment, he sensed her body tensing, but then she gave an eager nod. “I’d like that, Daniel. But first, help me move.”

Not giving a fuck that the enormous bulge of his cock was stretching the denim of his jeans and would be seen by all and sundry, Daniel shot to his feet. “What are we waiting for?” he said, laughing and, taking hold of her hand, pulled a laughing Samantha from the B and B. She was still laughing as she slid into the passenger seat of his SUV that was parked in the lot behind the B and B.

After a quick visit to the general store to buy lemons for the lemonade Samantha wanted to make, they went to the Anderson home. Ross Senior helped him with the loading of three suitcases and six large boxes of books into the back of his SUV. Well, out of courtesy, he’d loaded the boxes of books. He would have to return for the other dozen boxes, all of which contained more books.

As Daniel got into the driver’s seat, he became aware of a prickling sensation down his spine. He turned slightly and looked up. Matt was watching from an upstairs window. He gave him a cheery wave and wondered how long it would take Matt to move back in with Samantha. Not that he minded Matt moving back, just as long as it wasn’t that day. The following week would be good. It would give him and Samantha some quality time together.

Not that he really needed them—he remembered Silver Creek well—but Samantha gave Daniel directions, and within two minutes, he parked outside a red-bricked house on Second Street. She immediately gave a cry of dismay and was out of his SUV before he could even open his mouth to ask what was wrong.