Cupid's Mistake (8 page)

Chicken was woman-speak for pussy, he knew that much. Damn
it.

"I—"

"Did she help you play dress-up, too?" she
continued. "Get you all spiffed up?"

That cut a little too close to home. He'd meant Sally's
interference to be a good thing—saving them from their preconceived
notions so they'd have a chance to get to know each other when they probably
wouldn't have otherwise. Allison had turned it all around on him, and never
mind that he hadn't intended to pursue getting to know her any further. That
kiss had changed everything.

Raking his hands through his hair, Ben sought a way to get
back on track, but Allison was picking up steam.

Waggling her manicured thumb between the two of them, she
said, "How did this even happen? How did you get to me? How—"

Pacing now, head down, she muttered to herself, words he
couldn't quite make out. Probably a good thing, he decided. He doubted they
were complimentary, but damn, she looked good mad. Every line of her slender
body crackled with energy. Angry color brought a glow to her cheeks. Her
sapphire eyes flashed like blazing blue diamonds, striking sparks everywhere her
gaze touched and singeing holes in his protective shell.

"Allison—"

Whirling to face him mid-stride, she gave a laugh that
sounded a lot like the predatory growl of that jungle cat she'd reminded him
of. When she spoke, her luscious lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl.

"DeeDee forwarded your profile to me.
I
chose
you
.
How the hell did you manage that? What, did you
pay
her to put you in my queue?"

Offended, Ben opened his mouth to deny that charge, at
least, but she tossed up her hand like an overzealous traffic cop.

"No, I forgot. You wouldn't have picked a princess like
me."

Ben hunched his shoulders. She was angry, yes, but there was
a shadow of hurt beneath her words. He'd never intended to wound her.

"Did DeeDee and Sally cook this up somehow? Did—"

"Look," Ben interrupted. He needed to cut her off
before this got any more out of hand. "Sally got it into her head that I
needed your friend's business to start meeting people again. I had no idea Dee
would send my profile to you, and I have no idea why she did. Sally had nothing
to do with it, but since she was the one who responded when you selected me,
she obviously knew who I was meeting today." And he'd give his darling,
interfering cousin a healthy piece of his mind about that as soon as he got home.
Right before he thanked her. "That's the sum total of the entire deal.
What we make of it from here is on us."

"What we make of it."

She gave a short burst of a laugh with bitterness layered
under it, but that was his tipping point. A stupid misunderstanding was not
going to keep him from getting to know this woman, and whatever ideas he'd had
before, damn it, he wanted to get to know her now. She was a high maintenance
princess, no doubt about it, but maybe he'd discover he liked princesses after
all. He was determined to find out. When she opened her mouth to speak again,
he grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her up to her royal tiptoes.

Eye to glaring eye, he said, "Yeah," and dove in.

This was no testing kiss, no gentle taste, but a possession.
He forced her lips open with his tongue and ravished her mouth, slanting his
lips across hers for deeper penetration. His hands clutched the length of her
hair, anchoring her, then smoothed down the curve of her back, molding her body
against him. Sizzling heat fired his blood, but he focused on her, bringing all
of his rusty skills, all of his frustrations, all of the new, uncomfortable
feelings she raised in him to the fore.

Their first kiss had been heavenly, a cautious introduction.
A sweet prelude to darker desires he'd kept a tight rein on, not wanting to
scare her away and not yet ready to give in to his own passion. This time he
eased off the choke chain. Just a little. Just enough to let her know who she
was dealing with and what he wanted from her. And he wanted all.

First time out of the gate? Come on, Ben, what are the
odds?
Yet the twist in his gut told him she
was far more than he'd first given her credit for. That she was someone
special.

It was too soon, he knew it, but common sense didn't seem to
matter. Before much longer he would have her quivering beneath him. After six
years of near celibacy, it was too much to believe that he could have found his
mate on the first try, but he wasn't about to question the gifts of Fate. Fate
owed him. If she was meant to be his, he was ready to find out. And collect.

Her body, so rigid only moments before, softened against
him, and her mouth gave. Surrendered. He gentled the kiss in response, a
leisurely taste now, supping on the sweetness of her lips. Her hair tickled his
cheek and her hands, caught between them, splayed across his chest, then flexed
over his pecs. The heat of her slender body, the scent and feel of her raised
goose bumps along his flesh.

Inside, something settled, even as his pulse continued to
pound.

Just when all echoes of their argument had drained out of
his head, just when his thoughts clicked off and his body shifted into pure
sensation, she stiffened in his arms, snapping the thread of mindless passion
wrapping around his brain.

Damn it.

He was easily strong enough to contain her, to keep her
there and kiss her back into submission. But her resistance had registered. He
had to stop.

Dropping his hands, breathing hard, Ben let her go, barely
feeling it when she pushed against his shoulders.

Allison crossed her arms over her chest, her lips swollen
from his, her wild hair disheveled, but her gaze stayed level. Her eyes said
she was tough, in control, but her breasts rose and fell with her rapid breaths
and gave her away. The pulse in her throat beat hard beneath her alabaster
skin.

She said, "Well."

Well, indeed.

He wanted to suck on that heavy, pounding beat, to nibble
his way up her neck. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from sweeping her
up again, gobbling her down in one luscious bite. But she was a smart,
determined woman. He respected her spirit, her fire. He would take his time.
That spirit would make her willing surrender even more precious.

Cars streamed past the parking lot—too loud, too
aggressive, too fast, as always in California—and seagulls called
overhead, but the silence between them lengthened, spiked with sexual tension.
Despite the doubts he saw reflected in Allison's blue eyes, he cared a little
too much whether she'd agree to see him again or choose to call it quits before
they had a chance to discover each other beyond this first date.

"I want to call you, Allison."

She shivered visibly but didn't drop her gaze. Reaching out,
he tucked a stray strand of her brilliant hair behind her ear, enjoying it when
her pulse kicked at the base of her throat.

"I don't care how we got here," he said. "I
don't care if you're the leader of the princess coalition for the entire world,
hell, the whole galaxy. I don't care that we just met an hour ago. I want to
get to know you, and I want to kiss you again. A lot. Say yes."

He was starting to get used to the assessing way she looked
at him, obviously thinking over everything he'd said. He wasn't sure he cared
for his every word being weighed and measured, but he'd deal with it, as long
as she agreed.

"Y-yes," she said finally, her breaths still
panting lightly. "Okay. Okay, but—I have to go. For now. I have a. .
." Breaking off, she cleared her throat. "I have to go. If
you—if we. . . Well. We'll see. All right?"

Without waiting for his response, Allison pushed by him and
climbed into her car. She backed straight out, missing his bumper by a wish and
a prayer, then shot out of the parking lot as though a pack of rabid coyotes
howled on her tail.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cursing steadily, Allison headed south toward Newport Beach.
Mia usually worked from home on Friday afternoons, and Allison needed her ears.
And her hugs. Mia's hugs were famous for a reason.

Traffic surged around her, but she ignored the honking,
swerving mass of humanity. She drove by rote, her thoughts focused inward in a
tumbling rush of images.

Had she really just run from a man? How humiliating. Heat
stole into her cheeks and crawled along her skin. Stumbling over her words and
bolting like a frightened jackrabbit was so not her usual style. She couldn't
think of another instance in her entire twenty-five-year history when a man of
any age had discombobulated her senses or emotions so thoroughly.

Well, with the possible exception of one terrifying college
professor with a heavy Russian accent and mean black eyes, but even Derrick had
been unnerved by that guy.

This was different.

God, that kiss. Lights had literally flashed behind her
closed lids, and she couldn't be sure she hadn't done the corny movie-kiss
thing and popped her foot up in stunned reaction. Just thinking about his lips
caressing hers had shivers coursing over her body and spiraling tingles racing
to her core. Pressing a hand low on her belly, she took a deep, shaky breath.
Wow. Wow-wow-wow.

Arriving at Mia's, most of the drive a blur in her mind,
Allison threw the car in park and practically ran to the front door. She gave
only a cursory knock before letting herself in with her key, calling Mia's name
at the top of her lungs.

"I'm up here," Mia hollered from the depths of her
tiny, oceanfront condo, "hang on."

Not willing to wait, Allison bolted up the narrow stairs and
hurtled into Mia's sunny blue-and-yellow bedroom where her friend was just
rising from the chair in front of her laptop.

"What is it?" Mia asked, alarm in her eyes.
"What's wrong?"

"Hug," Allison said, and Mia flung her arms wide,
wrapping them around Allison as soon as she burrowed in.

Mia held her tightly, not letting go until Allison gave her
one more squeeze and stepped away, comforted and steady once again. That was
one of the many great things about Mia. She'd hug it out forever if someone
needed. She never rushed through an embrace.

Already feeling better, Allison grinned sheepishly at the
concern on Mia's face. "I'm okay," she said before Mia could ask,
"but can we talk?"

Studying her, a tiny frown on her forehead, Mia nodded.
"Of course. Snacks first?"

"Do you have any more of those chocolate-covered
cherries?"

Flushing, Mia made a face, her green eyes sparkling with
self-deprecating mirth. "I don't actually know. I haven't been able to
find the box since you put it away last September."

Despite her mood, Allison swallowed a laugh. She'd wrestled
a box of the candies out of Mia's grasp after her last bad breakup, right
before Mia and Derrick started dating, and had hidden them on an upper shelf in
her friend's kitchen. Evidently, she'd hidden them well.

"Okay, then," Allison said over her shoulder,
preceding Mia down the stairs and heading straight for the kitchen cupboard
above her friend's refrigerator. Rummaging behind the extra candles and
lanterns Mia stored in there for power outages, Allison gave a victory yell
when her fingers clamped around the box of treats.

Fifteen minutes later, they sat cross-legged and facing each
other from either end of Mia's bright red couch. Mia had arranged the
necessities for tea and the mandatory sweets on a tray placed within easy reach
on the coffee table.

Beyond the family room's large picture-window, the leaden
sea foamed along the shore, a darker shade of grey than the gloomy sky. Each
wave's crashing boom formed a soothing counterpoint to Allison's jangling
nerves. She took a deep breath and allowed the comfort of her friend's home and
the gorgeous view to wash over her in a familiar tide.

Taking a cherry by the stem, she twirled it before popping
it in her mouth. Then popped it right back out into a napkin she snatched
hastily from the tea tray.

"Bleh," she said, making a face. "These are
stale."

Mia narrowed her eyes. "That's what you get for hiding
them so well."

"Mia!"

Laughing, Mia said, "Fine, hang on."

Going to the sideboard in the attached dining room, she dug
in the top drawer and came up with a box of chocolate-covered caramels. She
tossed them to Allison, then flopped back into position on the couch.

"Now," Mia said. "Tell me everything."

It came out in a flood—her New Year's party sighting
of Ben, Cupid's Cavalry, the lunch. Realizing who he was, then the silly
misunderstanding over how they'd even wound up together on their date. That
second kiss.

"Whew!" Mia said, but Allison kept talking.

Firing up over the princess comment all over again, her
hands gesturing wildly, she stopped mid-sentence at the raised-eyebrow on Mia's
face.

"What?" she asked, frowning.

"Well, you are a princess," Mia said with a shrug.
"You're
The
Princess."

"Huh," Allison said, pointing first to Mia, then
herself. "Pot, kettle."

"Regardless, you can hardly blame him for the
observation."

"It wasn't the observation so much as the way he said
it." Still, she subsided grumpily, rubbing at an invisible spot on the
black knee of her jeans.

Mia's hand covered hers in a soothing pat.
"Continue."

When Allison got to the part about Ben losing first his
parents, then his wife and child—stories she'd heard several times from
Sally over the years—Mia's eyes filled with tears.

"Poor man," she murmured.

Nodding, Allison studied her hands, twisted around the
teacup. How to explain the rest? The chaotic emotions, the feeling that he was
The One? It sounded so ridiculous, even in her own head, she couldn't possibly
say it out loud.