Rescue My Heart (8 page)

“
The Clue in the Blue Box.
That’s the story?”

“
Yeah. Read three
paragraphs from the end.”

He did as told. “I thought this was a
mystery.”

“
It is. But the two
private investigators have fallen in love.”

“
Go ahead.”

Rory moved away from Hack’s seductive
smell and his tempting presence. She paced slowly to the door and
back. “While Lavinia and John were crouched in the closet, their
bodies touching, heat grew between them.”

John and
Lavinia or me and Hack? I’m almost sweating, and it’s chilly in
here.
As she stood up close behind him,
his warmth drifted to Rory, enveloping her. Her reaction to him and
his body heat cranked up her internal temperature, distracting her
from her work. With some difficulty, Rory peeled off her cardigan
and tossed it on a chair. The cool air did not wipe Hack Roberts
from her mind or her senses.

The click of the keys on the computer
drew her attention back to the story. “John couldn’t find a
comfortable place for his arm, except around her. His hand rested
on her breast. He smiled in the dark when she didn’t move away.
Hell, where was she going to go anyway?”

“
Are you going to be
writing explicit sex scenes? Because I don’t do that.” Hack removed
his hands from the keyboard.

“
You do whatever I say.
The judge’s order doesn’t say, ‘except explicit sex
scenes’.”

“
Shit,” he muttered under
his breath.

“
These are mysteries. No
explicit sex. But they do sleep together.”

“
Great. Let’s
go.”

“
He felt her shift beside
him. He turned and kissed her, tightening his hand around her soft
flesh. Lavinia sighed into his mouth, returning his kiss. John
removed his hand and slipped his fingers under her
sweater…”

“
Wait a
minute!”

“
No! I’m on a roll. Keep
quiet and type.”

“
Lavinia. What kind of
name is Lavinia,” he muttered.

“
I heard that. I like the
name. You don’t have to. I’m not writing this book for
you.”

“
Damn right you’re
not.”

“
What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“
Means I don’t read this
stuff…sex stuff.”

“
Oh? And you’ve never read
pornography? Look, World, the only man alive who’s never read
pornography!” She gestured at the window.

“
This is going to be
pornography?” He raised his eyebrows.

“
No!”

“
Then, what’s the problem?
Besides, I look at porno, but don’t read it. Rather see the
pictures.” He snickered.

“
You
keep bringing this back to sex. Are you trying to tell me
something?”
You’d like to sleep with
me?

“
You’re the one who said
the word ‘breast,’ not me.”

“
Do you get horny when you
see ‘breast of chicken’ on a menu?” she shot back.

“
Of course not. Just
breast of woman.” He laughed at his own joke.

“
Back to the manuscript.
Let’s see, where’s that number the judge gave me to call if you
flaked out?”

“
Okay, okay. ‘He slipped
his fingers under…’”

She
smiled.
I win round one.

* * * *

Each day
began the same. Hack and Rory started out facing off, but settled
down after an hour of snide rejoinders. Rory vented her frustration
with glee on the captive doctor.
He’s the
reason my life is turned upside down. And Baxter, too. Let him
suffer a little.

Before long, their banter became a
game for her. Loneliness took a backseat when Hack was there
typing. She refused to admit she liked having him around, yet she
took extra care with her appearance before he arrived, fixing her
hair and applying makeup and perfume.

She
picked up on his interest in her chest. Searching through her
wardrobe, she purposely selected the most revealing tanks and
sweaters she could find. Tantalizing him gave her a thrill.
He’s practically drooling!
Dressing sexy had a side effect–it turned her
on.

She became acutely aware of his
presence. When he was near, the desire to touch and be touched by
him grew stronger, like a magnet nearing a piece of metal. She
resisted, telling herself it was strictly physical from the
dry-spell she was enduring after Bruce’s departure.

Every day they broke for
lunch at one o’clock. Rory ate homemade concoctions while Hack
brought deli food. Pretending her food was superior, she secretly
harbored a yen for the Philly cheese steaks and ham and Swiss
sandwiches, slathered with mayo and mustard, he
devoured.

Even if he had offered,
she would have resisted sharing, or even tasting, his food. But he
didn’t, and that irked her. So did his obvious wealth and his
arrogant self-confidence. In fact, everything about Dr. Hack
Roberts bugged her, bothered her, kept her up at night.

The beginning of the
second week, Rory noticed he didn’t have his plastic bag from the
deli.

“
No
lunch today?” Rory’s gaze traveled the length of him. She liked
looking at his tall, muscular frame.
He’s
not my type, still, no harm in looking.

“
I forgot. Don’t usually
bring lunch to the clinic. I send out.” He sat down by the
computer.

Rory
took pity on him. “Guess you’ll have to suffer through some of my
food.” Rory reached her good arm high above her head to keep it
from cramping. She spied Hack staring at her chest, like he did at
every opportunity. She chuckled to herself.
With that pancake he calls a woman, no wonder he loves my
chest.

“
Lunch break.” Hack pushed
to his feet and stretched his arms and legs. “Someday, I’m going to
have a major charley horse from that desk. Every muscle in my body
is going to spasm.”

“
I’ll call 911. Every
muscle?” She cocked an eyebrow at him then reveled in the blush
that colored his cheeks.

“
You know what I
mean.”

“
Come on. I’ve got
something new I made.”

“
Do you have the number
for the poison control center handy?’

“
Very funny.” She
retrieved two small potpies from the fridge.

“
What’s in there, the body
of your last boyfriend?” He chuckled at his own
cleverness.

“
If you don’t stop, I’m
going to give yours to Baxter!” At the mention of his name, Baxter
jumped down from the sofa and thumped over to Rory, bumping his
splint rhythmically on the wooden floor. She pulled a treat out of
a bag on the counter and fed it to him.

“
He’s going to get fat if
you give him a treat every time he begs. Especially since he can’t
walk a lot with that cast. Not good training, either.”

“
So what? God! Don’t you
ever let go? Ever do something because you want to or it feels
good?” Rory gestured, opening her arms wide.

“
I can be spontaneous,” he
sniffed.

She cracked up, doubling over.
“Really? And hippos can fly.” She chucked the pies into the oven.
‘Does Miss Rubber band cook? No, probably not. After all, she
doesn’t eat, so why cook?”

“
We go out or order
in.”

“
Not
everyone can afford to eat out or order in all the time.” Within
five minutes, the tempting aroma of beef and flaky crust filled the
tiny apartment. Rory noticed Hack licking his lips and staring at
the oven.
Poor baby needs a home-cooked
meal.
Half an hour
later
,
the timer
rang. Rory hesitated by the stove. “Could use some help here. Don’t
need to add a third degree burn to my broken
arm.”

Hack took the not-so-subtle hint,
donned oven mitts, and removed the pies. He placed them on a
cooling rack she had set up. Rory poked an extra hole in her
creation to cool them faster. Then, she lifted a small portion on a
fork and blew on it.

“
Here, take a bite, and
tell me what you think.” She fed him the morsel then chewed her
lip.

Hack closed his eyes.

“
So? What do you
think?”

“
I think you’re wasting
your time writing when you could be a successful chef.”

* * * *

The next
day, Hack hurried down the street so as not to be late.
Why am I rushing? So what if I’m late. Big deal,
right?
He didn’t pursue questioning
himself because he didn’t want to admit the truth.
Is she cooking today too?
His mouth watered, and his stomach rumbled at the memory of
the heavenly potpies she had created.

She was business-like when
he arrived. Hack sat down and got to work quickly, opening the
document and going to where they had left off. She dictated, moving
around the room. Heack made an effort to keep his eyes on the
screen and off her alluring figure, but wasn’t entirely
successful.

“
Read that last part back,
will you?” she asked.

“
What? Which
part?”

“
What the hell? Are you
even paying attention?”

“
I am.” He felt heat in
his cheeks.

“
Doesn’t look like it to
me. The part where she coughs.” Hack found the paragraph and read
it aloud.

“
Fine. Continue. ‘He
clamped his hand over her mouth, but she continued’.”

Hack pressed his lips together and
resumed typing. Rory leaned over his shoulder, looking for
something on the desk. The scent of her lilac perfume drew his
attention. It mixed with her scent, seducing him, making him want
to ravish her, or at least kiss her. With her soft, pink lips at
his ear, he exerted all the self-control he had to keep his hands
to himself. But he didn’t have total command over all his body
parts.

If this
keeps up, I’m going to be hard as a rock in a few minutes.
He tried to focus on her words, but the brush of
her breast against him flipped his switch. All he could think about
was closing his hands around her soft flesh.
They’re great. What a rack!
His
fingers tingled, and his groin tightened. Felicia’s slender, hard
body didn’t stimulate him at all. He’d never been tempted to take
her to bed, though she had made it clear she was
willing.

He liked his women fuller, softer,
with something to hold on to. Before he’d made the arrangement with
Felicia, he had been quite a Casanova. In college and vet school,
Hack had had more women than he knew what to do with. But never the
right one. He had often thought he was too picky. Then, he had
drifted into the arrangement with Felicia and time to find the
right woman had evaporated.

Rory’s
sexy words stimulated him, turned him on.
How am I going to leave if I’m hard?
Worry helped to solve his problem by creating anxiety, which
distracted his body. Still, doing this everyday would make
resisting difficult.
Doesn’t she own any
turtlenecks? Remember, she’s a bitch. She’s out to get me.
But he didn’t believe that. He knew he’d wronged
her and needed to make amends.

He typed for an hour before Rory
called for a break.

“
Coffee or tea?” she
asked, moving into her small kitchen.

“
You making coffee?” He
got up and stretched.

“
I will if you drink
it.”

“
Love a cup.”

Rory padded barefoot to the sink. Hack
watched her with hungry eyes. Her jeans were tight in all the right
places. Even her pink toenails attracted him. Felicia wore dark
nail polish that reminded him of Dracula. Rory’s bottom was
enticing. A vision of her riding him while he gripped her butt made
his mouth water. He swallowed and turned his attention to her
apartment.

Unlike
Felicia’s obsessively neat, stark, black-and-white place, Rory’s
was messy, filled with creative doodads, ceramic bowls, and
artwork. Her white walls were covered with original oil paintings
and prints. Beautiful, hand-crafted ceramic pieces were on display
in her wall unit. The colors were warm—melon, gold, and soft
browns.
Earth tones. Earthy, like
her.
A raspberry, crocheted throw lay
folded over the arm of the couch.
Where
have I seen that before?

The aroma of perking coffee mixed with
her lilac scent floated to his nostrils. The sofa, the same color
as Baxter, was soft and comfy. The pug lay sleeping , curled up
with his head supported by the arm.

“
Hungry?”

“
It’s only
eleven.”

“
So?”

“
It’s not lunchtime,
yet.”

“
Do you always eat by the
clock, not by your stomach?” She talked while she opened a festive
Christmas tin. Lifting out two scones, she put them on a small
plate and closed the container.