On Temporary Terms. Janice Maynard
picked up a spoon and scooped out a bite of caramel-laced, whipped-cream-topped perfection. “Open your mouth, lass. I’ve an urge to feed you, since I can’t do anything else at the moment.”
Abby’s lips parted even as her knees pressed together. The way Duncan Stewart was looking at her ought to be illegal.
He lifted the spoon to her mouth. “Wider,” he said hoarsely.
She obeyed and moaned when he spooned the dessert between her lips. The flavors exploded onto her tongue. She chewed and swallowed, light-headed. Duncan watched her like a hungry hawk studying a mouse. “Do you like it?” he asked. His voice was sandpaper, the accent almost buried beneath rough desire.
“Yes.” The word stuck in her throat. “Do you want some?”
“Only if you feed it to me.”
Abby recognized the sexual challenge for what it was. Never in her life had she found herself in such a position. Duncan Stewart had turned a simple meal into sexual foreplay, and now he demanded an equal partner.
“I don’t sleep with a man on the first date,” she said desperately, reminding herself of all the reasons she made that rule.
“Understood. Besides, this isn’t a date—remember?” He growled his response, restless, agitated. “I’ll settle for dessert. Now, lass. Before it gets cold.”
The way Abby felt, she was never going to be cold again. With trembling fingers, she retrieved the spoon and scooped a bite for Duncan. He watched her intently.
“Stop that,” she complained.
“Stop what?” His complacent smile was suspect.
“Stop imagining me naked.”
“Is that what I was doing? I didn’t know you were a mind reader.”
“Open your mouth, Duncan.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Why had she never realized how erotic it could be to feed a man dessert? When Duncan’s sharp white teeth barely missed her finger as he snagged the pudding, she shuddered. “Is that enough?” She sat back in her chair and took a hasty drink of water, almost choking.
The man laughed at her, damn him.
“I’m still hungry,” he said.
“Feed yourself.”
“If you’re not going to sleep with me tonight, I thought we could at least sublimate.”
“Do they teach you that line in wicked, sexy Scotsman school?”
Duncan chuckled, though his sex was hard as stone and he wanted to howl at the notion he couldn’t have her tonight. “I have no idea. I’ve no’ been particularly successful with the ladies over the years. Too busy with work, I suppose.”
“Oh, please.”
“’Tis true,” he insisted. “There haven’t been as many women as you might think. Brody was always the one with the easy banter and the sunny personality. I spent a lot of time alone. I liked walking the moors and tinkering with boat engines and whatnot. Women were complicated and sometimes, frankly, too much work.”
“So why me?”
At first he thought she was flirting, begging for a compliment. But on second glance, he saw the uncertainty beneath the question, and it squeezed his heart. “Ah, heavens, Abby, ye’re poetry wrapped in a woman’s body. I walked into your office and it was like being punched in the chest. I could have taken you then and there. I can’t explain it. Perhaps you think I’m daft.”
She stared at him, eyes huge. She gnawed her bottom lip. “It’s not natural for a man your age to have to live with his grandmother. You’re a long way from where you belong. I think you’re probably homesick and horny. It’s skewed your thinking. I’ve never driven anyone sexually insane.”
“Surely you’ve heard of chemistry, sweet lass.”
The doubt on her face made him determined to tamp down his own lust until he could convince her of his sincerity.
“Is that what this is?” she asked.
“Maybe. Or a bit of fairy magic. We Scots are staunch believers in fairies, you know.”
Abby smiled wryly. “Here’s the thing, Duncan. I like you. Mostly. And let’s be honest. You’re a very sexy, appealing man. But this sounds like a really bad idea.”
“Why is that?”
“If we end up in bed together, I risk becoming the latest gossipy tidbit in Candlewick. I’ve worked too hard to prove myself in a career that’s extremely important to me.”
“So we’ll fly under the radar. Secret love affairs can be very hot.”
“I think you’re missing the point,” she sputtered, mortification painting her cheeks crimson.
“I know what I want, Abby. If you’re honest, I think you want it, too.” Her resistance made him push all the harder. “But if I’m wrong, all you have to do is say no, and I’ll leave you alone.”
The long silence that followed made him regret his noble pronouncement.
At last, Abby spoke, her expression troubled. “If we do this, you and I would definitely be temporary. Short and secret would be the name of the game. I don’t want the whole world to know when it’s over. So if they never know when it starts, we dodge that issue.”
Some of his jubilant mood faded. “I’ve never gone into a relationship already planning its demise,” he groused.
“Lawyers are all about endings and beginnings. It’s what we do. Life flows more smoothly when expectations are clear and everyone signs on the dotted line, metaphorically speaking, of course.”
He pretended to wipe his brow. “Whew. I thought you were about to make me sign a contract before I undress you.”
“I thought about it,” she said.
“You’re joking.” He raised an eyebrow, searching her features for the truth.
Abby’s grimace was self-mocking. “You know...lights out. Nothing too kinky at first.”
“Define at first.”
He was delighted when her choked laughter told him she understood his naughty question.
Abby glanced at her watch. “This has been lovely, but I do have work tomorrow.”
“Of course.” He paid the check, and they made their way to the car. Though it was only early September, in the mountains, the nights cooled rapidly after the sun went down.
His companion was quiet...too quiet. He would give a lot to know what she was thinking. She hadn’t once mentioned the prospective buyer for Stewart Properties. He was relieved, but the omission worried him. He hated secrets. Did the sexy lawyer have some wicked plan in mind to wait until he was weak with wanting and then try to coerce him into selling? He didn’t know her well enough to trust her.
It wasn’t hubris on his part to believe he could coax her into bed tonight if he pressed the issue. Sexual arousal hummed between them like a breathless, tangible force, incubated and nourished by circumstance. The faint scent of feminine perfume in the air. Her slightly off-key humming to the songs on the radio. The pair of sexy high heels that tumbled to the floor of the car when Abby kicked them off and curled her legs beneath her for the ride back to Candlewick.
Duncan gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled. The road home was strewn with dark, convenient pull-offs where a man could drag a woman against him and undress her and dive deep to slake his hunger.
He