Excavated (13 page)
At eleven o'clock in
the evening, Lucy’s patience ran out.
She
put down the book she’d been reading and stood up, slipping on her shoes.
Arthur
had been curled up on his dog bed, but he bounced up immediately when he saw
her moving, and he was at her feet when she stepped out of the trailer.
Erland
Island on a summer night was exactly as she’d known it would be. Eerily empty.
Quiet. Lit by a perpetual twilight.
She
walked toward the standing stones, where she knew Philip would be, even if she
hadn't seen his silhouette, squatting near a trench.
All
the grad students had turned in for the night. Only Philip was stupid enough to
still be working.
“It’s
after eleven,” she said as she approached.
“Is
it?” He sounded distracted, absent-minded. He was drawing something on a pad of
paper.
There
was a large spotlight aimed at the trench, which gave him enough light to work.
Barely.
Arthur
ran over and poked his nose onto the page. Philip pushed him away gently, but
not before he’d scratched the dog’s head.
“Yes,
it is. It’s late. You can finish this tomorrow.”
“I’ve
just got a little more—” He broke off when she turned off the spotlight. “Damn
it, Lucy.”
“I’m
serious. It’s late. You’re going to hurt your eyes working so long. Not to
mention your back. You need to rest a little.”
He
frowned at her, obviously not happy about her intrusion. “I only have a few
weeks a year when I can—“
“I
know that. But that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to kill yourself.” Sometimes
she could shake the stubborn man. She reached down and snatched his notebook
away. “Now come to bed.”
He
rolled his eyes so she would know he wasn’t pleased with her, but he stood up.
She
saw him wince as he did. “I knew your back was hurting.”
“My
back is fine.”
They
walked together toward the trailer, Arthur running ahead. “Well, fine. In that
case, I won’t give you a back rub.”
Philip
was obviously tired—his eyes were a little bleary from too many days of running
himself ragged. She’d been on two film shoots in a row, since she wouldn’t have
gotten to see him much while he was working the dig anyway. But she suddenly
wondered if she should have visited earlier, if only to make sure he took care
of himself.
He
rubbed at his face as they entered the trailer bedroom—one that held very fond
memories for Lucy, since it was where they’d first gotten together.
“Honestly,”
he said, his expression changing, “I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to a back rub.”
She
grinned at him, unable to hold onto her annoyance. She’d missed him so much
while they'd been apart. “You’ve got it.”
She
did give him a back rub. And, if his groans were anything to go by, he greatly
appreciated it.
It
became more intimate than she’d intended, since his moans were turning her on,
so by the time it was over he was hard.
When
he rolled over onto his back, she climbed over him and sank onto his hard
length. She rode him until the bed shook, and they both cried out in pleasure.
They
were both tired, so it didn’t last long, but it didn’t matter. She collapsed on
him afterwards, sated and affectionate.
“Give
me a minute,” he said, his voice hoarse, exhausted. “I might be able to do
better.”
She
laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was wonderful. I’m too tired for more
anyway.”
Philip
stroked her hair gently. “If you say so.”
“You
need to go to sleep.”
“If
you say so.”
She
giggled and kissed him one more time. “You’ve had a hard few weeks. Plus, you
have a busy month or two coming up.”
“Is
that right?”
“That’s
right. We have to go to Dana and Sawyer’s wedding.”
“I
can’t wait.”
“And
then you have to visit your mom.”
He
grunted.
“You’re
still planning on that, right?”
“Yeah.”
"Good.
And then you have to move.”
“I
don’t really have that much to move.”
“But
still…moving to a different continent might be taxing.”
She
could feel him shake with quiet amusement, and he leaned down to kiss her hair.
She
added, “Then you have to start your new job. And what if you don’t like it?”
Her
voice was light, but he must have heard something there. His relaxed body
tightened, and he took her face in his hand so she was meeting his eyes. “Lucy,
I’m going to like it.”
“I
hope so.” She swallowed hard, still feeling anxious about his making such a
huge life change. For her. “I want you to.”
“If
I don’t, I can find another job.” His blue eyes were deep, naked. It was
impossible for her not to believe him. “The idea of moving, of living with you,
makes me so happy. Maybe happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”
She
let out a shaky breath and smiled, some sort of radiance spilling out. “Me
too.”
Some
of her radiance was reflected in his eyes too as he pulled her face down into a
kiss.
“I
love you,” he said, against her mouth.
“I
love you too.”
After
a minute, she rearranged herself so that she was curled up by his side—the only
comfortable position for both of them on such a small bed.
“Now,
you need to go to sleep.”
“You’re
kind of bossy, you know.”
She
chuckled. “Tough. I’m supposed to take care of you. That’s what happens when
you’re mine.”
There
was a pause, as her words lingered in the air.
But
Philip’s voice was dry, familiar, as he said, “Just remember—you’re mine too.”
the Enemy
If you enjoyed Excavated, you might
enjoy Seducing the Enemy by the same author.
Marietta sighed and
drooped against the wall. “Yeah. I guess the moment is over. Every time I think
I can…I end up…” Her resignation changed back into a smile. “Thanks for dancing
with me, though. I really had a good time.”
He
realized she thought he’d lost interest—as if such a minor thing would dampen
his attraction. If anything, he wanted her even more, her delicacy rousing some
sort of latent protective instinct.
“So
that’s it?” he asked lightly. “You’re blowing me off now?”
Her
gaze darted up to meet his. “No, I just thought… I just thought—”
“You
thought I was such an ass that I’d be scared off by an irrelevant aversion?”
“No.
I didn’t think that.” She had the most delicious faintly French accent.
He
leaned in until his lips hovered near hers. “You thought I was such a beer
guzzler that I couldn’t stand to spend time with someone who doesn’t love it as
much as I do?”
Surprised
laughter rippled out of her and her hands closed around the lapels of his suit
jacket.
Harrison
was mesmerized by her lovely face—warm, amused, sincere, utterly
real
.
The urge to kiss her was so overwhelming he no longer resisted.
He
closed the slight distance between their lips, brushing hers gently with his.
He
heard her quick intake of breath, felt her fingers clutch at him even tighter.
He kissed her again, lingering against her mouth longer this time.
She
broke the kiss after a few moments but didn’t pull away—just asked against his
mouth, “So
are
you?”
He
tangled his fingers in her hair until he’d cupped the back of her head. “Am I
what?” He couldn’t wait for the answer before he closed his mouth over hers,
deepening the kiss with his tongue.
She
opened for him, her body melting against his and one of her arms twining around
his neck. Her responsiveness intensified his desire.
He
couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone as much as he wanted her.
When
she finally turned her head, she panted out raggedly, “
Are
you a beer
guzzler?”
He
chuckled and murmured, “I prefer Scotch.”
It
was evidently the right thing to say. She wrapped her other arm around him and
kissed him with naked passion. Soon he’d hardened again as his tongue tangled
with hers. She practically writhed between his body and the wall, and he
wrapped one of her legs around his hip to align her groin better with his. She
moaned into his mouth while he rocked into her and stroked her bare thigh.
When
his erection started to pulse tightly in his trousers, he knew they needed to
stop. He couldn’t take her in the back hallway of a nightclub, no matter how
tempted he was.
He
forced himself to release her and step back, still bracing himself with one
hand on the wall.
Her
cheeks were deep pink, her hair messy, and her lips swollen. She was the
sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “Wow,” she said. “Wow.”
“I
agree.”
“Did
you want to…” She ducked her head to hide an inexplicably shy expression.
“I
hope you were going to ask whether I wanted to continue this elsewhere. Because
the answer is definitely yes.”
She
raised her eyes, and excitement flickered through her lingering heat. “Really?
You don’t have to go back to work?”
He
smiled, privately cursing the damned inspection report he still needed to
write. He was never late. His responsibilities as a Damon were always his
priority.
“Work
can wait.” He couldn’t miss out spending the night with this beautiful,
passionate woman. The report wasn’t urgent, and he could get up early tomorrow
to prepare for the settlement meeting.
She
looked surprised when he suggested they go to his hotel, so he wondered if
she’d thought he was a local.
It
was nice that she had no idea who he was.
While
she texted her friend, he ducked back into the main room to grab his tablet and
tell the floor manager to release his table.
“By
the way, I’m Etta,” she said as they waited for his car.
“Harri—”
he began, then cut himself off. She might not recognize his face—not everyone
did—but she could easily recognize his name. And that might change things.
“You
don’t really look like a Harry, but I like it.”
He’d
always hated being called “Harry.” In fact, schoolmates had only used that name
when they wanted to annoy him. After hearing Etta say his name with that
particular lilt, however, he decided it wasn’t so bad.
She
beamed with an overflow of warm excitement.
“What
did I do to deserve that smile?”
She
flushed and glanced down. “Am I too excited?”
He
almost choked. “Too excited? Who the hell told you that was even possible?”
“I
don’t know. It’s just that the world seems to think being cool is the way to
go, and I can never pull it off.”
He
realized that was one of the reasons why she seemed so different, why she
seemed so real. There was no pretense about her, and it thrilled him. “Cool is
overrated.”
She
peered up at him curiously. “You seem to pull it off very well.”
“Maybe
I’m
overrated.”
“That
remains to be seen.”
***
You
can find more information about Seducing the Enemy
here
.
Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a
spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing
since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in
Virginia, where she teaches English, reads any book she can get her hands on,
and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.
She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After
spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to
reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances. For more
information, please check out her website:
noelle-adams.com
.
Other
Books by Noelle Adams
One
Hot Night: Three Contemporary Romance Novellas