The Summer House (11 page)

But he had a bigger problem at the moment. She’d
requested he tell her about his seduction style. If he started, it wouldn’t be just talk. No way was he going there. The only solution was not to play. He should have told her to forget dinner. He could have grabbed a bite alone somewhere or picked up a microwave something. Both ideas were unappealing, but so was the potential for a mess. It wasn’t too late to call it off.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Show time,” he muttered. “No—not a show. Dinner. Nothing more.”

He crossed the tiled floor and opened the door. Cassie stood there, holding a covered bowl with a plate on top that held steaks ready for the grill. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi.” She walked past him and looked around. “I can’t remember the last time I was here. Your mom really fixed up the place. Which is probably where my mom got inspired.”

Kyle hadn’t noticed. He knew this place was a mirror of the Brightwells, but the decorating was different. There was a stairway just beside the door that led to three bedrooms upstairs. The railing was oak now instead of wrought iron. On the far wall of the living room was a raised-hearth brick fireplace. The chimney went up the outside wall and his mother had added a fireplace in the master bedroom just above. There was a powder room beneath the stairway and the kitchen, separated from the main area by a beige, ceramic-tile-covered bar. Four tall oak swivel stools stood in front of it.

Cassie met his gaze. “My mom said the furniture she ordered is practically indestructible, in a color that will camouflage everything from tar to red punch.”
She angled her chin toward the sofa and love seat. “That white furniture is a dead giveaway that this is not a place for kids.”

“Welcome to my world,” he said. “Let me take that stuff for you.”

“Ah, the gentlemanly approach.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know. The whole gentleman thing. I’m not sure it works for me. But do you size up a woman then tailor your plan of attack? Sort of a customized, personalized strategy for seduction?”

He groaned inwardly. Apparently it was too much to hope she would have forgotten. “No.”

“No, your technique isn’t personal?”

“No I’m not going to do this with you.”

“Why?”

“You’re my best friend’s sister. Call it a guy thing. There are lines you don’t cross. Besides, you’re also my friend.”

“So, what does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s complicated.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is just too weird. Can’t we talk about sports or the weather?”

“I’m not asking you to compromise your principles. Just tell me what you would do if—”

There was that word again. “If what?”

“If you were with a woman you were attracted to.”

If
he was attracted? There was a no-brainer. The way she looked tonight, turning back the tide would be easier than keeping his hands off her. Her straight blond hair was loose and tucked behind her ears. He wanted to run his fingers through the strands that looked like silver silk.

She was all in black—jeans and a T-shirt, strappy
sandals revealing red-painted toes. But with her curvy little figure those jeans made his hands ache to get her out of them. And that was no ordinary T-shirt, or should he say half shirt. It was made out of the same soft material, and left one creamy shoulder bare. She wore no jewelry, but it would have paled in comparison to her attributes. No
if
about it. He was damned attracted to her. She had temptation written all over her. Why couldn’t she be in a gunnysack with a sign across the front that read No Trespassing?

It was getting hot in here. “Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked, then kicked himself from here to Canada.

“I’d love some.” She smiled. “I bet that’s step one. Lower your subject’s resistance with alcohol.”

“They’re not subjects. How insensitive do you think I am? Don’t answer that.”

Debating the wisdom of giving her alcohol, he walked into the kitchen, because he definitely needed some. She followed and set the salad and steak on the counter beside the sink. Kyle riffled through the drawer where his mother kept the foil cutter and corkscrew. After dealing with the bottle he’d brought with him, he pulled a couple glasses from the cupboard and poured the rich red merlot into each.

He handed one to Cassie. “Here. This is just being a good host. Let’s deal with dinner. I’ll start the fire.”

Actually it was already started and burning him to a crisp from inside out. But there was a limit to what he’d tell her.

“I thought I was supposed to cook.”

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

If he didn’t do something to occupy his hands, he would fill them with her. A disaster in the making.

She sipped her wine, then asked, “Do you usually achieve your goal before dinner or after?”

“What?”

Humor danced in her blue eyes and her tempting mouth curved in a mysterious smile. “Statistically, I mean. Rough estimate. Just a ballpark figure.”

“What’s with you?” He folded his arms over his chest.

She leaned back against the counter, holding her wineglass in both hands. There was about a foot between them. “For a long time I’ve heard about the romantic exploits of Dan Brightwell. Megan and I had questions, but he would never answer. You and Dan are friends. Do you have the same technique? Compare notes? I’m curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“Maybe. And maybe if Dan had talked to me I’d be content. Or maybe if you’d called me like you said you would…”

She was killing him. He hadn’t wanted to be alone tonight, which was why he’d manipulated this dinner. But who knew she would push all his hot buttons? What was going on with her?

No. He didn’t want to know the answer. He was afraid if he found out it would cost him more than he could afford to pay.

“This was a bad idea,” he said. “If your place isn’t aired out enough, you can stay here. I’ll find a hotel in Santa Barbara.”

“What?” Her playful expression disappeared. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are.”

“Then why would you leave?”

She had him there. If he ran, she would know the
reason why—he didn’t trust himself to be alone with her.

Then he made a calculated error. He looked into her eyes. The bruised expression was back—black and blue. Some other guy had put it there first, but he couldn’t pile on. The idea of hurting her was like tossing a defenseless kitten out in the cold. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Kyle knew he didn’t have a lot of choices and figured the best defense was a strong offense. Two could play this game and he was pretty sure he played it better.

“Okay, friend. You win. You’ve got a front row seat for seduction, Stratton style.”

F
riend? Cassie’s pulse tap-danced as Kyle moved in front of her. Would someone who was simply a friend notice the heat of his body through the material of his charmingly rumpled cotton shirt and shorts? He’d only moved a foot, yet he’d managed to completely alter her definition of the word
friendship
at the same time he revved up her sense of anticipation. Then he placed his hands on either side of her on the counter, trapping her between his muscular arms. His wrists grazed her arms.

“Well. O-okay,” she said. “I’m glad you finally see things my way. Now I’ve got you right where I want you—”

One corner of his mouth curved upward. “Yes?”

“I guess the question is what am I going to do with you?”

“That’s a good question.”

“I have a better one.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do with me?” She swallowed. “Let me rephrase. Wh-what’s your next move?”

Without actually moving his hand, he managed to caress her forearm with his thumb, sending goose bumps racing over her skin. Her insides turned into a quivering, shivering mess. She held her wineglass between them as if it was a shield.

“This is my next move.” Kyle reached up and took her glass, setting it on the counter beside them.

Actually that was the one after his next move, because she was still struggling to maintain her composure from the devastation of his thumb caress. “Why did you take my wine? Doesn’t that make your work here easier?”

His eyes narrowed and grew darker. “When I’m attracted to a woman, I don’t want alcohol clouding her mind.”

“Noble.”

“There’s that word again. I’m no hero. Just selfish.”

Without anything to hold, Cassie didn’t know what to do with her hands, although she’d noticed his chest was right there. In the vee of his shirt, where the top two buttons were undone, she could see a sprinkling of dark hair and the hint of muscle. Her fingers itched to explore the expanse of warm skin but, for starters, she rested one palm flat against his shirt, over his heart, which was giving a pretty good imitation of a percussion instrument.

His eyes smoldered as he gazed into her own and his breathing changed. It was subtle, but she was sure
it was faster. Something had shifted in him. She’d pushed him from retreat to attack in zero point three seconds. His primal instincts were focused on her. Hadn’t she always wanted to know how it would feel to have all of his attention? He was no longer ignoring her. Now what? How should she act? Active? Passive? She felt like a confused verb.

“Wh-why selfish? To make sure I’m—I mean the woman you’re attracted to is sober?” she asked, feeling the need to say something.

“Because when I’m with a woman, I want her to remember me and everything I—we—do.”

His voice was rough as sandpaper with a hint of smooth, warm whiskey around the edges. He was so close, his breath stirred wisps of hair around her face. The intensity of his gaze made it impossible to look away. She was mesmerized by the concentrated heat she saw in his eyes. The fire there stole the oxygen from her lungs, making her light-headed. And she felt her nerve slipping away.

Kyle had rested his palm on her bare shoulder and, with just the slightest back and forth brushing of that magic thumb, he was making her warm all over again.

She let out a long breath. “Is it hot in here?”

He shook his head. “The windows are open.”

“Must be the wine. Did you know wine dilates your capillaries, increasing blood flow and circulation? In layman’s terms, it warms you right up.”

“All in two tiny sips? Imagine that,” he said, centering his attention on her bare shoulder.

“Go figure,” she said with a shrug.

He concentrated on the curve between the column of her neck and collarbone. Who knew it was an erogenous zone? It worked for her in a big way. Back and
forth with his thumb. Any second she expected to see sparks, as if he was trying to start a fire by rubbing flint and steel together. Any second she expected to go up in flames. A rhythmic throbbing started between her thighs as a moist heat settled there.

What in the world was she doing?

She’d only ever been with one man, the man she’d planned to marry. She’d waited a long time for her crush on Kyle to fade. She’d been cautious and selective. Steve was the first guy to get past her defenses, the first who felt right and trustworthy. She’d given him everything: heart, body, soul and the promise of forever. What a laugh he and Lynnda must have had on her. Betrayed by her fiancé with her second-best friend in the ugliest possible way. It was one of the reasons she’d come back to California.

She’d come back all right—back to square one.

With one finger, Kyle stroked downward, over her collarbone and chest to the swell of her breast. Her breath caught as he toyed with the edge of material that covered her. Her eyelids drifted closed and her pulse hammered as she waited expectantly for him to cup her breast with his palm. One part anticipation and two parts tension coiled inside her, swirling, surging upward. She felt like a volcano about to erupt.

Then the touch was gone and she no longer felt the heat of his body in front of her. Her eyes popped open, confirming he’d taken a step back. “Wh-why did you stop?”

“I think you get the idea.” His voice was hoarse and he was breathing hard.

Cassie blinked as frustration and disappointment billowed through her. It wasn’t easy, but she resisted the urge to reach out and choke him.

“And your women find this satisfying?”

“They’re not
my
women. And if you weren’t who you are—” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Let’s just say so far I haven’t had any complaints.”

His hand shook, she noted with satisfaction. She might be shy and somewhat inexperienced, but she would bet he wasn’t as cool as he pretended. Nonetheless, he’d aborted Seduction 101. She knew from personal experience that rejection could cause permanent disfigurement of the soul. Technically this wasn’t a rejection, but it was beginning to feel like one. A voice inside reminded her she was the new and improved Cassie Brightwell. She hadn’t taken this risk just to roll over at the first speed bump.

But why would she want to see how far they could go? She’d been devastated by love. Only this was different from the fiancé fiasco. There was no danger of a repeat. Kyle had already warned her not to expect anything, so she had nothing to lose. He couldn’t hurt her.

The last time she’d been this close to Kyle Stratton, she’d wanted desperately to know what his lips would feel like against her own. But she’d been too naive to let him know what she wanted and he hadn’t taken things to the next level. A real gentleman, darn her luck.

No regrets, she reminded herself. Tomorrow, she didn’t want to kick herself from here to the San Fernando Valley because she’d meekly played it his way. Especially when she had the opportunity to cancel out a big regret with a do-over. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.

When he let out a long breath and started to back farther away, Cassie moved closer, reached up and
curved her hand around his neck. Gently she urged him to lower his head, noting a startled expression in his dark eyes as she stood on tiptoe and touched her lips to his. She tasted softness, restraint, surprise and hesitation.

He lifted his mouth from hers and stared. “I thought this was my gig.”

“Let me be the first to register a complaint. It seemed to me you needed a nudge in the direction I wanted to go.”

“You call that a nudge? It was more like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”

She smiled. “Isn’t that a bit egotistical?”

“That’s not what I meant. It was a metaphor for—”

“Are you blushing?”

“Of course not. Like you said, it’s hot in here.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me.” She slid her other arm around his neck and linked her fingers. “Now. You can’t tell me that wimpy kiss was up to the usual Stratton standards.”

“No. But that was a sneak attack. You threw me off.”

She tipped her head to the side. “If you don’t give me something to compare it to, I’m going to think that’s the best you can do.”

He settled his hands at her waist and she felt his resistance slipping. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I’m a big girl. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

“You’re asking for it, Cassie.” His tone held a warning, at the same time promising something that made her pulse race.

“Yes, I am.”

His eyes darkened as the muscle in his jaw contracted, a visible manifestation of his internal struggle. His palms slid upward and his thumb stroked her midriff, just beneath her breast.

“Damn it,” he ground out past gritted teeth as he pulled her against him. “This is a very bad idea.”

Cassie sighed and closed her eyes as his mouth took hers. He nibbled tiny kisses across her lips, then with his tongue, urged her to open to him. She’d lost any will to resist the second he’d tugged her into his arms. How could she? It felt too good. But it got better when her lips parted and he delved inside her mouth, imitating the act of love. That tilted her world. If he hadn’t been holding her, she would have slid bonelessly to the floor.

Then he touched the tip of his tongue to the roof of her mouth and a moan of pleasure escaped her. She knew he had heard, when his arms tightened and his breathing grew even more labored, the tension twisting inside him almost a palpable thing. Pulling his mouth from hers, he trailed kisses across her cheek and jaw, to her ear, where he took the lobe between his teeth and gently toyed with it.

It was as if an electric current shot from that point of contact, straight through her body, sensitizing every cell, every square inch of skin, every nerve ending. She couldn’t seem to drag enough air into her lungs and, for the life of her, couldn’t find the will to care. If she had to stop breathing, in Kyle’s arms was the perfect place.

Kyle felt as if he’d just sprinted up several flights of stairs. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to get more air. He pulled back and looked at Cassie.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from his kiss, her eyes still closed in passion. She was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

He wanted her any way he could get her—in his bed, on the floor, the kitchen table. It didn’t matter. He wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman in his life. And he had to put an end to this before he couldn’t stop himself.

He dropped his arms and dragged in air. “Enough already.”

“Why?” she asked, blinking, dazed.

“We can’t do this, Cassie. That kiss was a mistake.”

“Your reputation was at stake.”

“I don’t give a damn about my reputation,” he said a little too loudly. He stepped away from her as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

But he did give a damn about her. Even though he had no right. Dan had said Kyle wasn’t the kind of guy he wanted for Cassie. It had been true all those years ago, and every day since, Kyle had proved her brother right. If he didn’t put the brakes on right now, this wouldn’t be a demonstration. He would make love to her. Then there would be hell to pay.

“Kyle? What is it?” she asked, her gaze searching his face.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” That was a bald-faced lie. He was hungry for her, but he could never let her know. Seeing her again, walking with her on the beach, talking to her—he’d felt an instant connection. He’d felt the emptiness inside him shrink as his need for her grew.

“I’m not sure what that means,” she said.

He walked out of the kitchen to put some distance
between them. “This isn’t a good idea. And I think we should call it a night.”

“Okay. Maybe tomorrow we—”

“I don’t think tomorrow would be any better. I need some space to think things through.”

“Since when can’t one friend help another friend?”

Since tonight. Since touching her had made him want to explore every single solitary inch of her skin. Since kissing her, when he’d discovered for the first time how incredibly sweet and sexy she was. Since holding her in his arms and learning she was impossible to resist. He’d barely had the strength to let her go. He knew for a fact he wouldn’t be that strong a second time.

“It’s just a real bad idea, Cass.”

“For who?” she demanded.

“Both of us.”

“I’ve been making decisions for myself for quite a while now. What gives you the right to call the shots for me?”

“I’m making it my right, because I’m worried about you.”

“That’s not your job. You’re not my big brother. Dan’s got that job sewn up.”

Dan. Cassie had made him forget everything. Kyle had always thought of him as more than a friend, more than a brother. He’d have done anything for Dan Brightwell. In fact, he had. He’d turned his back on Cassie a long time ago. And regretted it more than once. A lot more.

“I don’t want anything to get in the way of our friendship. I’ve lost a lot in my life, and I don’t want to lose that, too.”

Cassie, Dan, Megan, all the Brightwells. They were the kind of family he’d always wanted and never had. If he didn’t get Cassie the hell out of there, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. Everything that had ever meant anything in his life would be gone. He couldn’t stand that.

He walked to the door and opened it. “Goodbye, Cass.”

She followed him, then stopped in the doorway and glanced up. She didn’t look all that different from the girl who had followed him around when they were kids. He’d known she had a crush on him. Everyone had seen it when the two families had spent summers here at the beach. They’d all thought it was cute.

It wasn’t so cute now. There was a hint of hurt in her eyes. Hell, who was he kidding? He’d just sucker punched her and the pain was there staring back at him. She was damaged—again. And if she didn’t stay away from him, he would keep doing the same thing over and over. Because that’s the kind of guy he was. Dan had known it a long time ago.

He’d said Kyle was all flash and no substance, not the right guy for his sister. Dan had told him he could probably have Cassie, but he’d only walk away. Which was true. He had no intention of marrying, making the same mistakes his parents had. He should have turned her down flat. Instead, he’d hurt her. Tonight he’d proved he was every bit the lowlife Dan Brightwell had predicted.