Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) (6 page)

"I'm too smart for that," Natalie said.

"Right." Claire opened her email.

"So, what happened in here this morning? Mr.
Macho followed you out of the kitchen fast enough. He looked like
he wanted to gobble you up. Did he kiss you?"

"This is business, Nat. Not personal.
Besides, I'm not ready for a relationship."

"Who's talking relationship? Loosen up,
Claire. There's a hunky guy out there attracted to you." She
glanced at her watch. "I've got to run. I'm expecting a shipment of
supplies in fifteen minutes." She was gone on the words.

Not for the first time, Claire wished she was
more like Natalie. A free spirit instead of a stick-in-the-mud.
That's what Claire was. At least, in her personal life. In
business, it was different. Establishing e*Claire's had been a
risky venture. Cybercafés were not as popular in the United States
as they were in Europe and Asia. But Claire had liked the idea of
combining a coffee house and computers near the university. And it
had paid off. In more ways than one.

For the past five years, Claire had worked to
achieve balance in her life. And independence. After the divorce,
she had been at loose ends, her self-confidence shattered.
Natalie's invitation to Texas had given Claire a new start. With
her best friend's encouragement, she had opened the first
e*Claire's.

It had taken a while, but she had finally
found some semblance of peace and security. Her life seemed to be
back on track and running smoothly. So why did she have the
horrible feeling that soon it was all going to come tumbling
down?

****

Standing on a ladder, Dillon installed the
last security camera in the hall leading to the back offices of the
coffee shop. He tried not to think about the woman sitting behind
the closed door right in front of him. Claire had avoided him all
day. After the last customer left, she had shown him where the
ladder was, then retreated to her office, leaving him to do his
work.

He was finished now. It was getting late.
Time to go. Dillon rotated his shoulders, trying to ease the
tension. He'd been tense ever since he'd seen Claire this morning.
His whole body was tense. And there was nothing he could do about
it. Well, there was. But he wouldn't go there. It wasn't going to
happen.

He started down the ladder, at the same
moment Claire opened the door to her office. The door banged the
legs of the ladder, giving him a jolt.

"Watch it!" He grabbed the top rung and
regained his footing.

"Sorry." She eased out of her office and
stood against the wall.

Dillon descended the last two steps of the
ladder aware of those chocolate colored eyes on him. A heaviness
settled in his groin as he stepped off the ladder and stood in
front of Claire. The tension was there again. If he wasn't careful,
he was going to kiss her.

"All done?" she asked.

Dillon didn't move out of her space. Claire
stood her ground, leaning on the wall, hands behind her back. Would
she welcome his kisses? He didn't think so. He stepped back and
turned away. She sure as hell wouldn't welcome him pinning her
against the wall, pressing himself into her softness. Wouldn't
happen. Couldn't happen.

Yeah, Anderson. Keep telling yourself
that.

"All done." He folded the ladder, fighting
the sexual pull, fighting the want. "I'll put this away, then we
can call it a night."

He froze when Claire reached out and touched
his arm. He'd been thinking about her hands all day. Small hands.
Beautiful hands. He's been fantasizing how they'd feel on him.
Holding him. Rubbing him. He wanted to take her to bed and it was
driving him crazy.

She plucked two short threads of wire from
his sleeve and held them up. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"Couldn't resist?" Hell, it was taking all of
his willpower to resist the hunger consuming him. To resist
her.

Claire hunched her shoulders. "I'm a neat
freak. I can't stand crooked pictures on walls or pieces of lint on
people's clothes. Or pieces of wire. Things like that."

She moved past him and started down the hall.
Expecting him to follow, no doubt. Oblivious to the fire she'd
ignited by her touch.

The kitchen was dark except for the light
they'd left on in the storeroom. Dillon placed the ladder where
he'd found it, holding on to it for a moment, trying to douse the
flames burning inside of him.

"Is something wrong?" Claire asked. In the
small confines of the storeroom, her voice sounded hushed. It
whispered over him like a filmy piece of silk.

He felt his body jerk in response, felt the
tightening in his belly as Claire stepped closer. Didn't she
realize what she was doing to him?

He couldn't stand it any longer. He grabbed
her shoulders, wanting to shake her. Wanting to kiss her. He needed
to kiss Claire. He needed to feel her kiss him back. Needed to make
the fire burn brighter between them.

"I'll tell you what's wrong," he said, his
own voice harsh with desire. "I want to kiss you. I want to do a
whole lot more than just kiss."

Her brown eyes widened. But not in fear. She
looked at his mouth. He nearly groaned when she bit her lip, as if
mulling over what he'd just said.

"I don't think that would be a good idea,"
she said softly.

"Probably not." He pulled her close. She
didn't resist.

"We shouldn't do this, Dillon."

"I agree."

"You do?" He felt her hands on his chest. To
push him away? He waited a heartbeat. Then another. She didn't
push, instead she spread her fingers wide. He wondered if her touch
would burn a hole through his shirt.

"Shut up, Claire. We're going to do
this."

"But--"

He didn't give her time to protest. He
covered her mouth and swallowed her words. Claire's lips were sweet
and he glided his tongue along the bottom one, urging her to open
to him. She quickly complied and he dove in, tasting her fully.

Dillon pulled her closer, enjoying the feel
of her in his arms. Claire slid her hands over his shoulders and
clasped them behind his neck. Her firm breasts pressed against him,
making his groin tighten even more. He buried his fingers in her
hair, angled her head and deepened the kiss.

Her whimper of pleasure made him want to take
her right there on the floor of the storeroom. He moved his hands
down her back and cupped her rear end, hauling her against him,
grinding his arousal into her heat.

"Claire, let me inside you. I want to make
love to you." He nipped her earlobe, then spread kisses down the
column of her throat.

She stiffened in his arms, her breath coming
in ragged gasps. He tried to take her mouth in another searing
kiss, but she turned her head and pushed him away.

"I can't do this." Her trembling fingers
swiped several loose strands of hair out of her face. She heaved a
deep shuddering breath. "I'm sorry. I can't do this.
We
can't do this."

"You're right. Not here. Not now." He stepped
back and clenched his hands at his sides to keep from grabbing her
again.

"Not ever." Claire shook her head.

"How can you say that after what just
happened?" How could she blow off the most explosive kiss he'd ever
experienced?

"I'm not interested in a relationship," she
said. "I don't want to get involved with you or anyone."

"Then why did you let me kiss you?"

"I don't know. I got carried away, I guess.
It won't happen again. I don't do the relationship thing."

"Good, I don't want a relationship," Dillon
said. "I just want to sleep with you."

"I can't sleep with you. I told you. I don't
do relationships and I certainly don't do casual sex."

"Why not? Neither of us wants to get
involved, but there's a chemistry between us. It's been there since
we first met. We could get it out of our systems. Enjoy ourselves
while it lasts."

"I don't think it would work that way."
Claire straightened the front of her blouse, tucking it into the
waistband of her skirt.

"You don't like me?"

"I didn't say that."

"We're hot together, Claire. You felt it when
we kissed."
Smooth, Anderson. You weren't going to touch her and
now you're practically begging.

"That's not enough for me."

"Or maybe I'm not enough for you?" That old
feeling of inadequacy reared its ugly head.

She narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed
to mean?"

"Nothing," he said. "I shouldn't have kissed
you. I usually walk a wide path around women like you."

Claire crossed her arms over her breasts.
"What do you mean
women like me
?"

Dillon tore his gaze from the enticing curves
and focused on her face. Her lovely aristocratic face. What had he
been thinking? That was the problem. He hadn't been thinking, but
he was now.

"Rich, beautiful women. High maintenance.
Like you." He shrugged. "Maybe it's for the best. We're too
different. You're from up north, a vegetarian and a neat
freak."

Claire lifted her chin. "Unlike yourself, Mr.
Meat and Potatoes? I bet you're a slob, too. I don't see any signs
of want or need. You own A & B Investigations. You use
expensive, high-tech equipment."

He wanted. He needed. But he couldn't let her
know that. "I've worked damn hard getting where I am today. I'm
well off, but I'm not one of the wealthy. But I know how they live.
I know how they act."

"You think you have me all figured out, don't
you? How do you know my family is wealthy? And how do you know I'm
from up north."

"I'm a private investigator. Figure it
out."

"You ran a background check on me?" Her eyes
simmered with anger, instead of desire. Dillon told himself it was
for the best.

"I have a job to do, Claire. I may not be a
neat freak, but I thoroughly prepare for each and every
assignment."

She took a deep breath. "Well then, I'm glad
this is settled between us."

"You think this is settled?" Nothing would be
settled until they were naked in bed. But that wasn't going to
happen.

"Isn't it?" Claire raised a brow.

"No."

"I think it is," she said. "You're attracted
to me. I'm attracted to you. We've acknowledged it and we're not
going to act on it. I think that just about settles it."

"I don't think so. You're going to think
about that kiss. I'm going to think about that kiss. We're going to
see each other every day at work. We're going to want more."

Claire took another deep breath. "We can't
always get what we want, now can we?" She turned and walked out of
the storeroom.

Dillon heard the resignation and sadness in
her voice. An uncomfortable feeling lurched in his chest. What
could a rich, beautiful woman like Claire want, but not have?

Claire glanced at the clock on the bedside table and turned over,
burrowing under the covers. She could sleep late this morning
because she didn't have to go to work today.

Thank goodness, e*Claire's was closed on
Sundays. With no classes, most of the kids slept the day away.
Claire made up for lost revenue by keeping the cafes open extra
late on Fridays and Saturdays, which worked out great.

She needed this Sunday especially to
recuperate from the hectic week just past. After a mad dash to
Huntsville to avert a disaster, she had checked the other cafes in
Nacogdoches and College Station on the way back to Austin. Then
she'd worked Natalie's shift last night, so Claire was doubly glad
to sleep in this morning.

When she finally tumbled out of bed, she
enjoyed a leisurely brunch, read the paper and did some laundry.
And tried not to think about Dillon and the kiss they'd shared in
the storeroom the other night. She'd tried unsuccessfully not to
think about that kiss all week.

Damn the man! He'd kissed her, insulted her,
told her he wanted her, then ignored her. Granted, she'd been gone
most of the week, but when she returned he'd ignored her.

Maybe he hadn't been thinking about the kiss
like she had. Maybe he'd put it from his mind. Claire could have
believed that except she'd caught him watching her--his eyes
intense, knowing, almost mocking. Himself or her, she wasn't
certain.

Where Dillon was concerned, Claire wasn't
sure about anything. She didn't want to get involved with him. If
she repeated that often enough, maybe her body would cooperate.
Because her hormones were screaming to get involved, even while her
brain told her going to bed with Dillon wouldn't be the smart thing
to do.

Claire put on another load of laundry. She
measured the detergent and stuffed the towels in the machine.
Knowing Dillon had run a background check on her made her angry. It
wasn't fair. She knew nothing about his background. He'd
practically told her he didn't like women like her. Had he been
hurt in the past? By a beautiful, rich woman?

And did that mean Dillon considered Claire
beautiful? That was an intriguing thought. Almost as intriguing as
knowing he desired her.

Dillon projected such strength and
capability; it was impossible to imagine him vulnerable in any way.
But she couldn't forget how he'd looked when he asked her if he
wasn't enough. As if he were lacking. Definitely something going on
there.

Claire jumped in and took a long hot shower.
A cold one would have been better. Thinking about Dillon and that
kiss made her hot and edgy. Wanting and needful. It had been a long
time since she'd wanted or needed.

Again, she wished she could be more like
Natalie and enjoy a man, no strings attached. Could she change?
Take that risk? Give in to her hormones?

After her shower, Claire threw on an old
football jersey over a ratty pair of sweatpants. She brewed a cup
of herbal tea and curled up on the sofa with a book. The tea
relaxed her and she was just nodding off when the doorbell chimed.
Great
. It was mid-afternoon and she wasn't dressed for
company. Her wet hair was still wrapped in a towel.