Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance) (11 page)

Water flew everywhere as she hit the surface and she laughed gleefully as Seth copped a mouthful. He was still spluttering when she surfaced. She pushed her hair off her forehead and gave him a smug smile.

“I’m going to let you have that one because I owe you,” he said sternly.

“You’re a generous guy.”

“So they say.”

She didn’t bother responding, striking out for the far end of the pool. She hadn’t gotten halfway before Seth drew alongside her, arms moving powerfully. He beat her there, then paused to wait for her.

“Ian Thorpe, eat your heart out,” she said.

He shrugged, his eyes dancing with mischief. “I tried to let you win, but if I went any slower I’d have sunk like a rock.”

“Like a block of concrete, you mean.”

He pushed his hand into the water, sending a plume straight up her nose. “Now we’re even.”

“What happened to you owing me?”

“I’ll pay you back some other way.”

She swam to the tiled ledge and pulled herself out, glancing around at the attractively landscaped yard. She was no expert on Melbourne real-estate prices, but it was clear to her that this place must have cost some serious money.

“So, this bar of yours must be doing all right.”

“I get by.”

“I’ve got to admit, I’m a little surprised. I expected a babe lair with shag carpet, a vibrating bed and mirrored ceilings. This is all very civilized.”

“You haven’t seen my bedroom. Yet.”

“Right. That’s going to happen.” She considered the house. “This is a lot of house for one man, you know.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Just wondering if it’s a sign of things to come. Seth Anderson, finally growing up. Business, house, baby. Anything could happen.”

“And probably won’t.”

His answer didn’t really surprise her, but she couldn’t stop herself from prodding some more. “Are you telling me you’ve honestly never been tempted to settle down? That there hasn’t been one woman who made you think about tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

“Really? Not even a hint of it? You’re that much of a hardened bachelor?”

“It’s got nothing to do with being a hardened anything. I’d rather be alone than trapped in a relationship that’s destined to fail.”

“How do you know if something is destined to fail if you’ve never even given it a shot?”

“Because it’s never felt right. Whatever that thing is that makes people sign up for joint bank accounts and shop for rings, it’s never happened for me. I’ve never met a woman amazing enough to make me forget all the stuff that can go wrong.” He shrugged, as though it was that simple. And maybe it was.

“Okay. I suppose that makes sense.”

“Of course it does. You’re still single. Obviously you haven’t met someone who fits, either.”

Vivian forced a smile, thinking of Franco. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

His gaze sharpened and she realized she’d dangled an almost irresistible conversational gambit. But that was not a conversation she intended to have with him.

“Have you worked out how you’re going to manage things once the baby comes home?” she asked, heading his question off at the pass.

“Not yet. The bar is closed Mondays, and Tuesdays and Wednesdays are quiet nights, so I’ve managed to fake it this week. But I’m going to have to sort something out once Daisy comes home.”

She smiled. “Daisy. You’ve named her.”

He looked rueful. “Not officially. Not until I speak to Lola’s parents. But yeah, it’s my choice.”

“I like it. I’ve always thought daisies were happy.”

“Yeah, me, too. I figure she needs all the good omens she can get.”

She drew her legs up so that her heels were resting on the edge of the ledge and wrapped her arms around her knees. “How are you coping with all of this, Seth?”

He paused. “Yeah, I’m good.”

As convincing replies went, it left a lot to be desired. But she wasn’t prepared to push. If he didn’t want to talk, that was okay.

After a second, his expression became rueful. “Okay, honestly? I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time. I know what needs to be done, I’m going through the motions, but none of it feels completely real. Even seeing Lola yesterday, lying there with so many tubes coming out of her... I feel like I’ve been sucked into the trailer for a bad movie of the week, you know? One of those ones that has lots of tampon and chocolate commercials.”

She didn’t say anything, simply waited for him to continue.

“And I’m really not looking forward to tomorrow. Meeting Lola’s parents. Taking them to see her. That’s going to be some serious hard yards. And as much as Daisy is amazing and miraculous and so freaking cute, I am terrified about bringing her home.” He gestured with one powerful arm. “I mean, look at my life. I’m so not the guy you’d pick to be primary caregiver to a little girl. I know how to change a diaper and run a bath and read a bedtime story, but that’s pretty much it. I’ve read one parenting book. I’m about as clueless as it gets.”

She could see the uncertainty in him, the fear and doubt. “This is a big freaking deal,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t get do-overs with a kid.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So I guess that means you just do your best, and hope it works out okay.” She offered him a small smile, aware that her advice was not the silver bullet he was looking for.

“What if my best isn’t good enough?” Seth’s voice was gravelly with emotion, and she knew it had cost him a lot to ask the question.

“It will be. It’ll have to be.”

Seth mouthed a four-letter word, then surprised her by dropping beneath the surface of the water. He drifted to the bottom before using it as a springboard and propelling himself toward the far end. The world was very quiet as she watched him glide underwater.

After what seemed like far too long, he broke the surface, standing and taking a moment to slick the water from his face and hair. He looked like something out of an erotic movie, his body glossy with water, his muscles working smoothly, and she felt the distinct tug of desire between her thighs.

Vulnerability and masculinity. Had to be one of the deadliest combinations in the world.

But as long as she remained aware of that—of his appeal, and her susceptibility to it—she was solid.

Seth swam toward her, his head above the water, his biceps bulging with each stroke. He stopped in front of her, treading water, and she raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“I probably owe you more than a little face splash after that move you pulled earlier,” he said.

“The bomb, you mean?”

“And the other bit.”

The bit where she’d let him think he was getting something that was never going to be on the menu.

“What are you going to do about it?” she said.

“I’m not sure yet.”

He moved so fast he was a blur, but she still anticipated him, attempting a half-assed dive over his head. He caught her foot, causing her to fall short of her goal, jerking her toward him. They wrestled like kids under the water for a minute, then broke the surface, both gasping for breath.

“Too fast for you, Anderson,” she panted.

God, she loved teasing this man. It was like poking a stick at an almost-domesticated panther.

“Says who?”

“Says me.” She slipped her hand past his guard, grabbing a fistful of his boxer briefs at the small of his back and yanking firmly upward. His hand shot out to stop her, but it was too late, she’d given him a solid atomic wedgie.

Laughing gleefully at his disgruntled expression, she took off while she still could.

“That’s right. You run for your life,” he called.

She heard him come after her, the fierce slap of his arms as he churned the water. She was laughing so hard it was difficult to maintain her pace. She made it to the shallows and had her foot on the first step when his arm snaked around her waist, yanking her into the water. Dragging her against his body, he easily resisted her attempts to escape. She gave a gasp of protest as he fisted his hand in the waistband at the back of her panties.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned him.

“What? Do this?” He gave a small tug.

Wet fabric pulled tight between her thighs, rubbing against places that were already dangerously hot and sensitive. Excitement thrilled through her—along with a rush of blood-chilling, visceral fear.

“Don’t.”
The plea came from her gut, from the part of her that comprehended exactly what was about to happen and understood how enormous a folly it would be. Suddenly this wasn’t a game anymore. Suddenly it was very, very serious.

“How are you going to stop me?” He tugged again, his eyes dancing with intent and desire and mischief.

Then, before she could gather her thoughts, he lowered his head toward her, his hand sliding down to cup her ass cheek.

Her hands instinctively latched onto his shoulders, shock stiffening her body as panic shot through her. If Seth kissed her, she’d be lost. In more ways than one.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He paused, his mouth inches from hers. “You want me to draw you a diagram?”

“No. I really don’t.” There was a whip-crack sharpness to her tone, and he blinked, the heated intensity of his gaze instantly cooling as he understood she was serious. A second later, his grip loosened and he took a step backward, letting her go.

“Right. My mistake. Sorry.”

She was practically panting, she had so much adrenaline buzzing through her. She couldn’t look at him, and turned her back on him as she rearranged her panties. She was painfully aware that her nipples were hard—and not because the water was cold.

Back ramrod-straight, she climbed out of the pool, making a beeline for her clothes. It was time to go. Past time.

She was pulling her tank top over her head when Seth exited the pool.

“I’ll get you a towel.”

“I’m fine,” she said, reaching for her trousers.

She wasn’t fine. She was uncomfortable, her clothes clinging to her damp skin, her wet underwear quickly soaking her top and pants. But she wanted out of there more than she wanted comfort. She wanted to be alone, in the safety of her car, with several miles between her and Seth and that moment in the pool.

He didn’t say a word when she headed inside to grab her stuff from the baby’s room. When she returned to the kitchen he was behind the counter, a towel around his waist as he folded the pizza box into the recycle bin. He eyed her steadily, but still she found she couldn’t quite look at him.

“Listen, Vivian—”

“I really need to get going,” she said. “The baby’s room looks great, though. Really great.”

She was already walking toward the front door. Seth took the hint, as he followed her and reached past her to open it for her. She scooted outside the moment she could safely do so.

“Good luck with everything tomorrow.” She practically ran down the porch steps to the driveway.

Embarrassment hit her the moment she was safely in her car and the full scale of her ignominious retreat hit her. She’d always prided herself on being able to hold her own against Seth, but she’d scuttled out of his house like one of the three little pigs running away from the big, bad wolf. Scared off because he’d tried to kiss her. She’d handled far cruder passes in her time with a million times more finesse—so why the urge to bolt tonight?

Perhaps inevitably, anger followed hard on embarrassment’s heels. Because they’d been having such a good night until Seth had taken things too far. They’d been talking, laughing, enjoying each other’s company. But that hadn’t been enough for him. He’d had to push, to see how far he could go. God forbid that he have a member of the opposite sex in his pool and
not
make a pass at her. God forbid that he exercise a little self-restraint for once in his life.

Right, that little scene in the pool was all on him. Where, exactly, did you think things were going when you jumped into the water in your underwear? And when you flirted with him and wrestled with him and grabbed a handful of his boxers?

The starch went out of her backbone and her outrage simultaneously, and she bowed forward, resting her forehead on the steering wheel.

The truth—difficult as it was to acknowledge—was that she’d been dancing with the devil tonight.

Toying with herself, with Seth, with the situation. Enjoying the heat of their chemistry and the spark of their banter and the sheer electric thrill of the potential that always seemed to arc between them.

Wondering what would happen if they got naked again, and if the payoff would be worth the risk.

And Seth had called her bluff. He’d read her signals, interpreted them to suit his own agenda—which was pretty basic and predictably male and not that different from her own—then gone for it.

And she’d reacted like a startled horse.

She could still feel the echoes of her panic, it had been that strong, that instinctive.

That revealing.

She lifted her head. It was time to be honest with herself. Finally. She took a deep breath, feeling more than a little shaky. As though she was about to open Pandora’s box and unleash something that could never be contained again.

All these years, ever since she’d met Seth and they’d exchanged their first ripostes, a part of her had known that he was dangerous to her. That if she allowed herself to, she could fall for him. Hard.

Hence her constant efforts to keep him at arm’s length. To define, limit and control her responses to him. He was her Achilles’ heel.

Every time she saw him she felt the same
zing
of attraction she’d experienced the first time she’d laid eyes on him, a testament to the enduring chemistry between them. And it wasn’t just a sexual thrill—although there was plenty of that going on. Absolutely. She loved matching wits with him. Loved dishing it out and getting it back in equal measure. He was one of the few people with whom she could be completely honest. She wasn’t sure why that was. Maybe because they both understood that neither of them was perfect, and therefore that screwing up was part of the rich tapestry of both their lives.

The thing was, Seth had never had a long-term relationship. Ever. The longest she’d heard of was six months. And while she’d had her fair share of just-for-the-hell-of-it flings, she’d also been in love with Franco and had wanted to stay that way. To her knowledge, there were no broken hearts in Seth’s past. Not on his side anyway.