Miss Fortune (21 page)

When at last they came to the door of his apartment, she asked him who it belonged to.

My company, he said, and pushed the door open, gave Rachel a nudge across the threshold.

The place looked like a sort of sterile bachelor padsmall and really plastic. A tiny kitchen, completely equipped in miniature appliances, was off to the right, with a nice little bar separating the kitchen from the even smaller dining area.

The living area had a couch and two chairs, a run-of-the-mill coffee table, which was covered with newspapers and work papers and a John Grisham novel. There was also an end table with a huge mauve lamp that matched the mauve frames of the really blah seaside pictures on one wall.

On one chair was an* assortment of laundryeither there to go out or having just come in, she couldnt really tell. But she could tell with just a casual glance that he was a boxer as opposed to a brief man.

Doesnt exactly have a homey feel to it, does it? he quipped as he tossed his keys onto the dining table, where a stack of mail, several files, and a laptop resided. He put her bag next to his laptop. Make yourself at home, will you, while I fetch the instruments of my torture, he said and disappeared into a darkened door that she assumed was the bedroom.

Rachel walked further into the room, reluctantly draped his trench coat across the back of a chair at the table where hed left her bag, and stood there, afraid to sit.

Come on then, lets have; a look.

She turned toward the sound of his voice. He was holding a bottle of something and some cotton balls. Madam, your surgery awaits, he said, bowing a little, and stepped aside so that she could enter the kitchen.

Rachel gathered her shawl about her and picked up her bag.

He ushered her to the sink, took her bag from her hand. Must have something frightfully important in that very large container vessel you have there, seeing as you wont let it out of your sight, he said as he put it on the counter behind her. Then he turned on the tap water, picked up a little sample bottle of Anti-Bacterial Dial, and, taking her hand in his, put a little soap in her palm, then put it under the warm water.

Ouch! she said as the soap hit the deep scratches the ungrateful cat had left.

Rather nasty, really, he opined as his fingers began to move on her, gently sudsing the wounds, taking care to clean the deeper scratches, then turning her hand over and washing the back side in the same, delicate manner. Each time his finger moved against her skin, Rachel could feel the electricity of it firing up her arm and into her chest.

His hands were magicalstrong, yet gentle, and huge . Her hand looked so small in his. She suddenly pictured those big hands on her breasts and remembered herself, jerked her gaze up. He was calmly rinsing the soap from her hand; he had a wonderfully handsome profilevery Anglican, with a thin, straight nose, a strong chin, a strong brow

Now the other, if you please, he said, gesturing for her left hand, and wordlessly repeated the same process, shaking his head when he saw a really deep scratch that ran up her wrist, and that sexy strand of hair fell over his eye.

But the caress of his fingers on her wrist was almost her undoing, and now she was seeing images slide past, images of that very same hand, purposeful and commanding, on other parts of her body

Am I hurting you? he asked quietly, glancing at her with a hint of a smile on his lips.

N-no, she stammered as he rinsed her left hand.

Id like to see the cat, frankly, he quipped as he took a dish towel that looked as if it had never been used and pressed it gently against her skin.

As he dried her hands, he looked at her through thick, sandy brown lashes, let his gaze wander her face, smiling softly at the gold in her hair. Youre rather surprising, Rachel Lear, he said quietly. What with all the witchcraft and weaving and catering and cat-liberating. One cant be entirely certain what will come next.

The same could be said of you , you know. One minute youre Flynn, then youre Charlie, then youre Ollie.

All quite good blokes, actually, he said with a wink. This might sting a bit, he said, pulling a bottle of iodine from his trouser pocket.

Its iodine ? She laughed. What sort of man lives in a corporate apartment, has never used the kitchen, and carries a bottle of iodine?

A resourceful one, thank you, he said, smiling, and dabbed some on the first scratch. Rachel sucked a breath. My mum always said that one must be fully prepared for all eventualities. She was the sort to make certain that our names were indelibly marked in our knickers.

Rachel laughed as he dabbed more iodine on her cuts.

Id cringe every time I saw her with a Sharpie in hand, he said as he turned her hand over and began to coat the scratches on her palm. .

I bet you have peanut butter and water on hand in the event of a blackout, right?

Kippers, actually, he said dryly. And Ill have you know that Ive certainly used this kitchen on more than one occasion to dry my socks. The oven is perfectly suited for them, having just the right dimensions.

Rachel laughed again, hardly noticing that he had finished one hand and started the other.

Do you have a father? she asked, wincing a little as he coated the scratch on her wrist.

By that do you mean am I the product of some science experiment gone awry, or is he living?

Living.

Indeed he is. Hes a putterer, my dear old dad, always on the prowl to mend something around the house and never getting it quite right. And what of your parents?

I dont think my mom owns a Sharpie, but shes always had plenty of peanut butter on hand, she said, laughing a little. And my dad, hes She stopped there, uncertain what to say. An asshole? Dying? Threatening to come to Providence? Hes not very handy when it comes to the house, she said quickly, and glanced at her hands, now stained hideously purple with iodine. Wow. It looks worse now than before.

Theres one last thing, Flynn said, and took her right hand, held it in his palm as he examined five small but deep scratches on the back of her hand. He rifted her hand, leaned over, and touched his lips to her fingers. Its always recommended to seal the cuts with a kiss, or, in the case of a prodigious use of iodine, as close to the cuts as one can possibly get. He kissed her palm. And then her wrist, his mouth casually surrounding her pulse, his lips lingering like gossamer clouds on her skin.

A conflagration of pure lust erupted in her, searing her from top to bottom. She sucked in a cool breath, and Flynn lifted his head, gave her a languidly scorching smile as he took her other hand and turned it over, to the scratch on her wrist.

All those passions bubbling in you, lie said softly. Cats and history and art. One cant help but wonder how a woman like yourself releases the steam of it all.

A woman like me cant help but wonder the same thing, she said with a crooked little grin as she gazed at his gorgeous, lush mouth.

I had every intention of ringing you up, you know, he muttered softly. But time ran away from me.

Ooh, she breathed, as he pressed his lips to a soft patch of skin directly above the scratch on her wrist.

Ive been rather swamped with work lately, working long hours, he added, before touching his lips to another spot on her wrist, and lingering there, his mouth warm and wet.

Oooh she whispered as he slowly and calmly and, hell, so expertly moved his lips up her wrist, to her arm and her elbow, lightly drawing the flesh in between his teeth, nibbling her skin as if it was some delicacy. But Ill not make the same mistake again.

Rachel just stood there, rooted to her spot, her mind gone to mush, aware of nothing but his mouth and his body.

He kept moving, up the bunched fabric of the sweater she had pushed up over her elbow, his breath seeping hot through the sweater, moving up, until his mouth was at her neck.

Oh Jesus , she whispered as she bent her head to one side to accommodate him. He laughed somewhere deep in his chest and slowly devoured her neck, caressing the skin with his lips and tongue. His hands landed on her waist and pulled her to him; she could feel the start of an impressive erection in his trousers and thought, with a violent shiver, that all the passions bubbling inside her might burst prematurely, all over his pristine kitchen.

You smell wonderful, he whispered as he casually moved to her earlobe, taking it in between his teeth. A bit like vanilla.

This cannot be happening. This can so not be happening , she thought wildly as she leaned her head to the side and back, silently willing him to cover every inch of her with his mouth. Every inch of her, and she didnt give a damn how bloated she was, for at the moment she felt incredibly sexy.

He drew her earlobe into his mouth, as well as her dangling earring, while his tongue languidly flicked about her lobe. His hands moved slowly up her sides, to the sides of her breasts and gently pressed against them, and around them, cupping them. *

A sigh of pure longing escaped her, and Flynn moved his mouth from her ear, letting the earring fall from his mouth and swing, wet, against her skin, as his lips left a warm, damp trail across the skin of her cheek. Did you know, he murmured, that in some cultures, a kiss is considered an exchange of souls?

Aah, she whispered as his tongue flicked into the corner of her lips, leaving a stunning sensation behind.

And did you know that there are those who believe the scent of a womans skin is more arousing than the touch of it? he asked, nipping her bottom lip.

Rachel never had the chance to answer, because his tongue slid inside her mouth. She knew nothing after that, only that her hands had found his neck and shoulders, and that his hands had slipped beneath her sweater, sliding over her bare skin, to her breasts, pressing and kneading in rhythm to his lips and tongue. She felt herself on a slippery slope, only moments away from sliding onto the kitchen floor and taking him down with her, to be on top of her. His attentions to her body had turned molten in her groin; there was a wetness building between her legs that made her ache with desire, and her skin felt almost as if it was shimmering beneath her clothing.

Flynn eased her back against the countertop and remarkably, slipped one hand beneath her tight skirt as he continued to kiss her. He easily pushed her skirt up, until his hand was on her hip. His fingers sank into her flesh so that he was gripping her, holding her against his cock, moving suggestively against her while the intensity of his kiss deepened.

Rachel hadnt longed for a man, hadnt craved a mans touch this bad since since ever . She hooked one leg around him, pushed against his erection as she pushed her breast into his hand.

Flynn moaned into her mouth, and he suddenly grabbed her by both hips, lifted her off the floor as if she weighed nothing, and pushed her back against the counter as he pushed himself between her legs so that she could feel his erection sliding up and down and around her sex.

Rachels arms went around his neck, her hands sank into his gorgeous hair, and she wished to heaven hed unhook her bra.

But Flynn lazily lifted his head, brushed a long strand of curly hair away that had been caught between their mouths. I believe its yours, he said, and kissed her forehead.

Mine, she echoed dreamily as he let go her hips and let her legs ease toward the floor.

Your mobile, he said, and she realized that the Vivaldi she was hearing in her head was actually in her bag.

Her eyes flew openno one had ever called her on that phone, and she imagined her mother. Dad . Something had happened to Dadshe jerked around frantically fumbled for it, yanking it from her bag. She punched more than one button before she found the one that answered.

Hello? she said breathlessly, heard the voice on the other end, and felt her heart sink like a rock.

RACHEL? Myron said, his voice full of concern.

How embarrassing. She could just dieand why was he calling her, anyway? Why, of all the times he could have called her, the months and weeks and years, did it have to be now ? Uh yeah. Hey, she said quietly, and selfconsciously yanked down her skirt.

Jesus, where are you? Ive been worried sick! he cried.

What? she asked dumbly and stole a quick glimpse of Flynn over her shoulder. He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on hips, looking at her. His hair, she noticed, was all messed up, and she vaguely remembered running her fingers through it.

I said where are you? Ive been out of my mind worried!

Since when? she asked in a near hiss as she turned away from Flynn and walked into the other room, gaining a distance of oh, say, six feet.

Since I came over to make a sandwich and you were gone, thats when! Youre never out this late, Rachelits almost three in the morning!

Damn, was it that late? Thanks for the time check, but I happen to be out at the moment, she whispered harshly.

What do you mean, out ? Myron demanded just as harshly.

What do you think I mean? she whispered, and glanced over her shoulder again. Now Flynn was at the sink, cleaning up. Oh great . Party over. Thanks, Myron!

She walked deeper into the living area for a little privacy to tell Myron what he could do with his stupid sandwich, but Flynn could still hear everything she was saying.

You mean youre on a date ? Myrons voice, she couldnt help noticing, was full of disbelief.

Rachel sighed to the ceiling. In a manner of speaking, yes I am, she said coolly.

Wow , he said, as if trying to wrap his mind around what was obviously a hugely improbable concept. I mean, I didnt know

Right. So really, thanks for your concern, but

Who is it? he asked.

I beg your pardon?

Who are you out with? Is it that guy from the bar? Gawd, he was so irritatingly incredulous . Was it that unbelievable? Rachel Lear on a date? Sort of?

Is it? he asked again.

Wait what are you talking about? she asked, confused now.

You know, the guy that was in the ladies room.

Oh, for Petes sake, he was not in the ladies room, Myron!