Heated Rush

“Are we at war with Hungary?”

“I hate that you’re laughing at me,” Annie said, shooting Tara a glare, fully aware that her friend had been tormenting her intentionally.

Tara finally grinned and stopped harassing her. “For heaven’s sake, will you stop it already? He said he’d be there. He’ll be there. Why would he stand you up?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe because he looks like he’s never heard the word farm in his life and doesn’t have a clue that the filet mignon he enjoyed for dinner last night once wore a cowbell?”

Tara, the vegetarian—this month—threw a hand up in protest and made a retching sound.

“Sorry.”

Reaching the garage, they got on the elevator to go up to the fourth level. As they ascended, Annie continued to imagine all the excuses Sean Murphy would make for not showing up. She couldn’t think of a single reason he would show—despite how nice his kisses had been. And despite those sensual words and his even more sensual expression when he’d talked about their chemistry. She was almost swearing by the time they reached level two.

“I should have just seduced him. Got a night of good sex out of it, rather than expecting him to come meet the family.”

“Heck, yes!”

Annie glared at her friend. “Do I look that easy?”

“No, you don’t look it, but for a man like that, honey, the Pope’s mama would be easy.”

“I blew it,” Annie murmured, not wanting to get into a how-sexy-he-is conversation with Tara, knowing it would surely lead to an oh-the-man-has-a-great-kiss conversation, which she really didn’t want to have right now.

Those two kisses belonged to her and her alone.

Tara put a hand on her arm, lightly. “Stop, Annie. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who’d go back on his word.”

“Neither did Blake.”

If Tara’s green eyes could have spewed flames at will, they would have been firing at the very mention of Annie’s ex’s name. “I have never even met this auction guy, but I’m insulted on his behalf that you’d even consider comparing him with that lying, cheating, womanizing slime bucket.”

Sighing in remorse, Annie nodded. “You’re right. Sean seemed like a decent guy.” An incredibly handsome—almost magnetic—decent guy. And, judging from his bio, a heroic one, too. He was a paramedic. Saving people’s lives—not trying to recklessly destroy them, as Blake had done to her.

Frankly, the man seemed like no one she’d ever known. “I shouldn’t cast judgments. Maybe I’m just borrowing trouble.”

“I’m sure you are. Now, tell me everything else about him.” Tara wasn’t teasing this time. She wanted the scoop.

“You saw him.”

“From a distance. They wouldn’t let us losers enter the cocktail party.” Tara wrinkled her nose. “Junior League Nazis.”

“Well, he is tall.”

“Figured that much, honey. Give me something good.”

“He’s got a pierced ear and it’s totally sexy.” Even though she’d never imagined one would be.

Tara shrugged, unimpressed. Then again, she didn’t read romance novels like Annie did, so she probably wouldn’t get the instant gold-earring-long-black-hair pirate fantasy that had immediately gone through Annie’s mind when she’d seen him up close.

“More.”

“He has an amazing voice.”

“Throaty? Like, talk-dirty-to-me voice?”

She shook her head as they exited the elevator and approached her minivan, parked halfway down the center aisle on this almost-deserted level. Annie tugged her small evening bag tighter against her side, sweeping a thorough, assessing stare around the shadowy recesses of the garage.

Despite what her family might think about her being unsafe in the “big bad city” after being raised in a nursery-rhyme town come to life, Annie knew how to handle herself. She clenched her keys in her hands, the longest, sharpest ones between her fingers, and suspected Tara’s fingers were resting lightly on the small can of mace she always carried.

What a couple of Charlie’s Angels. If a thug with a knife approached, they’d probably both toss him their purses and run like hell back toward the elevator. Frankly, that was the smart thing to do.

But for some sicko who wanted more than a purse? Well, the keys-as-spikes and mace were basic necessities when living in the city. Besides, she liked to at least think she was tough, if only to avoid letting her family’s constant worries that she wasn’t get her down.

They’d predicted robbery, rape, mugging…nearly everything except mutilation when she’d informed them she was heading for Chicago, fresh off the farm, after four years of commuting to a small, local college. In the five years since she’d arrived, she’d had her purse snatched, and her first apartment burglarized. Twice.

But otherwise, she’d managed to avoid getting herself murdered and proving them all right, which would have prompted the ultimate—if tearful—“I told you so” from her mother.

Her mother was going to like Sean Murphy. If he showed up.

Her father would like that he was a rescue worker. Albeit, the most elegant, well-dressed rescue worker any of them had ever seen. Again, if he showed up.

And her brothers would like that he was big and strong, and probably knew all about sports—even if it was Irish sports like rugby rather than football. If he showed up.

Her three annoying siblings would definitely consider him a step-up from one guy Annie had dated in high school. That had been back when she thought she wanted to marry the current-day version of Lord Byron, someone soft, soulful, vulnerable and emotional. Blech.

Although Sean Murphy was a gentleman—her instincts told her that—there wasn’t one soft spot on that incredible body, nor an ounce of vulnerability in his cocky smile.

He was all mouthwatering, turn-your-insides-to-mush man.

“Earth to Annie?”

“Sorry,” she mumbled as they reached her minivan.

“Tell me about his voice.”

Remembering the question Tara had asked, she admitted, “He has an accent. The program didn’t mention it—” which she found odd “—but he’s foreign.”

“Oooh, sexy. French?”

“Irish.”

“Even better! Like James Bond.”

Remembering her conversation with Sean, Annie had to chuckle. “Nope, Bond is English. Or Scottish. We never quite nailed that down. Sean’s one of those black-haired, blue-eyed Irishmen who rolls his R’s and sounds like he’s taking a soft bite out of each one of his words as he utters it.”

Tara’s mouth fell open. “Good God, woman, did you spend twenty minutes with him or the entire night? You sound like he’s been taking soft, sexy bites out of you.”

Feeling her heart thump in her chest at that visual, Annie purposefully ignored her friend. And she managed to continue ignoring her as they got in the van and left the garage, heading toward Lincoln Park, where they both lived.

But once she’d dropped her friend off, watching to ensure she got up into her apartment safely, Annie could no longer ignore the voice in her head that had been echoing Tara’s. She had felt like Sean Murphy had been taking sexy little bites out of her.

Removing bits of her self-control, morsels of her insecurity, and big, huge chunks of her resistance.

“I want him,” she whispered as she entered her own quiet apartment.

Her four-year-old tabby, Wally, heard her and deigned to come to the door for a quick greeting, if only to see whether she had anything interesting to eat. Given her carryout lifestyle, she usually did.

Bending to pet him, she repeated, “I really want him.”

And not just as a cover for this weekend’s family gettogether. She wanted him physically, as she hadn’t wanted anyone in a long time. Including her creepazoid ex.

Given her recent track record, she had no business wanting anybody, or trusting her own faulty judgment. But that didn’t change the way her thighs quivered and her panties tightened against her sex at the mere thought of Murphy nibbling her from top to bottom. Especially since she knew just how soft and warm his lips were. How delicious his tongue.

It was dangerous, unexpected, outrageous. But she couldn’t help wondering if that chemistry he’d mentioned would be enough to spark something physical between them this weekend.

And whether she’d let it.

3

“OWNER AND MANAGER OF Baby Daze. Saints preserve us, she runs a nursery school.”

Sean stared in disbelief at the small white business card in his hand. He hadn’t read it carefully last night when Annie Davis, his pretty “winner” had slipped it to him after the auction. Now, though, since he’d decided he couldn’t possibly wait until Saturday to see her again, and had dug it out searching for her phone number, he’d noticed what the woman did for a living.

Day care.

On Sean’s personal list of things to be avoided at all costs, babies were two steps below jealous husbands and three above yappy dogs that piddled themselves the moment you bent to pet them.

“And she works with them. On purpose.”

All the more reason for him to call the woman and tell her she’d been out of line insisting he spend an entire weekend with her—on a farm, for God’s sake—rather than just the dinner date he’d offered for the auction.

To be honest though, calling her to discuss the matter was only the excuse. Calling her was his main objective. He had thought of nothing else but the way she’d felt in his arms since they’d parted company last night.

But…babies?

He didn’t do that.

Something inside him forgot that fact, however, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in Annie Davis’s cell number. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. The little buggers usually took naps around this time.

He hoped.

When she answered on the third ring and he heard the crying in the background, he realized he’d guessed wrong.

“Yes?” she snapped, sounding out of breath. “Hello?”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’ve caught you at a bad time.”

“Sean?” she yelped, sounding shocked. “I mean, Mr. Murphy?”

“Sean’ll do.”

“It is you. Wow.”

Screech, whimper, yowl…He heard all of the above in the background as he said, “I should call back.”

“Probably. Yes. I mean, I don’t usually even answer this phone during the day, but I happened to have it in my pocket and heard it ringing. No, honey.”

Honey? “What?”

“Sorry. I’m holding a squirming bundle of male energy and he’s trying to bite my ear.”

He’d like to bite her ear. And he had a lot of male energy. Sean suddenly found himself envying that squirming child, though that didn’t, of course, mean he’d ever want to hold one himself. His younger half sister was perfectly capable of filling their ancestral home with little Murphys. He felt quite sure their father would be able to pay off any future husband to allow the tykes to carry on the family name.

“I, uh, didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“I figured we ought to talk about this weekend.”

She sucked in an audible breath, and he could almost feel her panic through the phone. “You are backing out.”

So pessimistic for such a sweet-faced young woman. “Of course I’m not backing out. I just want a little more information about what I’m up against. Other than cows.”

“You won’t be up against them.You won’t have to set foot anywhere near them. I didn’t mean that crack about the shoes. You won’t have to go anywhere near the milking barns. And we don’t have much other livestock except for a few horses. Do you like to ride? Oh, and there are some sheep, too, but they’ll be down in the pasture.”

Barn. Good God. And sheep? He’d seen enough of those creatures in the first twenty-one years of his life to last him until the end of time. Why had he agreed to do this again?

Her eyes, fool. Her eyes and her throat and her golden hair and her soft lips and her feminine body and her honesty and the incredible way she’d felt in his arms.

Well, all right then.

“Listen, things are kind of crazy here,” she said, sounding as if she was about to drop the phone even as she mumbled something to the baby. “Can you call me back after six?”

“Why don’t I pick you up after six so we can go have a drink somewhere.”

There was more yowling, plus a bit of tiny purring like a kitten being petted. He didn’t suspect that was coming from Annie, though he most definitely wouldn’t mind doing a little stroking.

As he’d expected, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head all night long. He’d tried to capture the memory of her smell, thought about the taste of her, had replayed their conversation in his mind, envisioned her pretty face, the pert nose, the amazing eyes. Not to mention the feminine body beneath the butter yellow silk.

Oh, yes, he’d absolutely like to touch her until she purred. Whenever and wherever she liked.

Feeling that way about a woman he barely knew—being so vulnerable to her and wanting her so badly after such a brief acquaintance—should have been enough to make him avoid her. Reason told him to stay away from her until he had to fulfill his promise.

Instead, here he stood, phone in hand, waiting to see if she’d agree to see him again tonight. Almost holding his breath, unsure about her, as he’d never been about a woman.

Sean wasn’t accustomed to being vulnerable to anyone. He never let himself get involved with anyone who didn’t know the score and the rules of the game up front.

Those types of relationships he understood. Real ones hadn’t been part of his vocabulary for a very long time.

A real one though, was the only type that could possibly happen with someone like Annie Davis. But that couldn’t coexist with who he was, with what he did.

He wasn’t usually a selfish enough bastard to take a chance, anyway, and damn the consequences. So why was he so willing to do it now? To risk hurting her—or himself—by getting personally involved with a normal, attractive woman who would never understand the choices he’d made in his life?

He didn’t know. He just knew he was helpless to resist. He was so anxious to see her, he almost held his breath waiting for her to answer.

Finally, she spoke. “It’s probably a good idea for us to get together and talk.” She hesitated for a second before adding, “I did back you into a corner about this trip.”

“True.”

“Sorry.” Then, sounding disgruntled, she admitted, “Well, no, I’m not really sorry. I needed you, you see.”

Needed him. Not just wanted. Why the word should make Sean’s pulse accelerate, he had no idea. But indeed it did.

Women were always wanting him. But needing? That was different. And at this point in his life, he welcomed anything different.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, “but I have a feeling you’ll paint me quite a picture tonight.”

“Yes. I will. Let’s meet somewhere, okay? Then I’ll lay it all out for you and you can tell me whether or not you’ll really go through with it.”

Conceding the single-woman-safety-clause that required them to meet for their first date, instead of him picking her up, he murmured his agreement and waited while she named the place. Then he added, “You should know, Annie, I don’t think there’s much you could say that would make me give up the chance to spend a weekend with you. Cows and sheep notwithstanding.”

He’d go through a lot for the chance to explore the attraction that had been so strong between them. Not to mention, finding out just how much she needed him.

“You might want to wait until you hear what you’re in for before you say that.”

“All right, then. Tonight, you can tell me what I’m in for and we’ll go from there.”

And with any luck, what he was in for included a few highly sensual moments with Annie.

ANNIE HAD NO intention of telling Sean Murphy the whole story. She’d tell him enough—in fact, most of it. She’d make it clear that she couldn’t show up at the family party without a man on her arm, and she’d even try to explain why. Though, honestly, until he met her family, he probably wouldn’t understand how serious the situation was.

She would not, however, go into details on the whole Blake-the-snake thing. Because that episode in her life was so humiliating, she couldn’t bring herself to speak about it.

Thankfully, only Tara had any idea that Annie had been dating the father of one of the kids from the center. That was a blessing, because she’d been breaking her own rule against fraternizing with the clients.

Annie knew from experience that some young, pretty day care workers could easily get swept away by the handsome, wealthy dads who occasionally picked up the children. At the first child care center she’d worked at in Chicago, one of her coworkers had landed in the middle of a nasty divorce scandal that had nearly destroyed the reputation of the business. So the No Fraternization policy had been a top-ten rule when she’d buried herself in debt in order to open her own place three years ago.

And she’d broken it.

That she’d done it unwittingly was not a good enough excuse. She should have known better, should have seen through Blake’s charm and his lies.

He’d just been so damned convincing and his lifestyle so convenient a backup to his story. His wife, who, Annie later learned, was an E.R. nurse with a demanding schedule, had never once visited the center. Not for an initial interview, not for a drop-off, a pickup or even one of the children’s programs. So it had been easy to believe Blake when he said his wife had divorced him and he was raising his precious two-year-old son alone.

Imagine Annie’s surprise when one month ago—six weeks after Blake had started bringing the boy to Baby Daze—his not-so-ex-wife had confronted Annie in her own office, accusing her of sleeping with her husband. God, of all the moments in her life she’d like to forget, that was the worst. Thankfully, it had been late in the day. No other parents had been around and all her staff had gone home, except Tara.

Beyond that, the only saving grace was that she’d been able to truthfully deny having had sex with Blake. It was small comfort, considering they had been dating and had shared certain intimacies. But it was something.

“Enough,” she whispered, the memories making her head ache. Forcing the awful images out of her head, she tried to focus on exactly what she’d say to Sean, who should be showing up at the bar any minute. She’d arrived at five-fifty, so anxious about the meeting that she’d actually taken off from work early, leaving her assistant manager in charge of shutting the center down.

It was very unlike her. But then, so was blowing an absolute fortune—including the bulk of her savings account—on one date with a stranger.

“Not just one date,” she reminded herself. The price she’d paid would prove well worth it if Sean could help her keep her family from learning the truth about Annie’s rather sordid love life. As a bonus, it should also keep them off her back for another few months about her true single status.

“Talking to yourself?”

Wondering if she’d broken a hundred mirrors over the past seven years to inspire such bad luck, she glanced up to see Sean Murphy standing beside her table. God, could this meeting have started off any worse? He’d caught her muttering to herself as she nursed a glass of wine in a dark corner of a shadowy bar.

Plus, oh, joy, she’d just noticed that her bright blue Baby Daze uniform shirt had what appeared to be a spit-up stain on the sleeve and a smear of red finger paint on the hem. Pathetic.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” He looked amused, as if he’d read her thoughts.

He’d probably read her next one, too, as she studied him, top to bottom, wondering how on earth she was going to convince anyone she’d landed someone this good-looking. Guys like Sean didn’t know places like Green Springs existed, and they most assuredly never hooked up with girls from them.

That fact was made more obvious by his appearance. Even without his evening wear, he still looked too hot for her, no matter what his resume said about his profession. Although, in terms of his clothes, he couldn’t look much more different than he had last night.

Sean wore soft, faded jeans that clung to his lean hips and rode every lump and angle of his body. Some lumps were incredibly obvious, given her position, seated and looking almost directly at his middle.

Lord have mercy, could the man fill out a pair of jeans. She shifted slightly on the hard wooden bench, suddenly very aware of the pressure against her bottom and her thighs. And the very tender spot between them.

Taking in a slow, shaky breath, she forced herself to lift her eyes, noting the crisp white dress shirt. It was unbuttoned at the throat and folded up at the sleeves to reveal thickly flexing forearms. They were roped with muscle, lightly covered with dark, wiry hair, hinting at strength and power that hadn’t been as obvious beneath the tuxedo. She imagined he’d have to be powerfully built, if he spent most of his time responding to accident scenes, saving people’s lives.

Tonight he seemed the antithesis of the tux-wearing sophisticate she’d met at the auction, but the attitude, the half smile, the gleam in his eyes revealed the innately sexy, confident man inside. No matter what he was wearing.

She grabbed her wineglass and sipped deeply as he sat down across from her.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting, I don’t often get ‘round to this area when I’m in Chicago.”

Her brow went up. “You don’t live here?”

“Not usually.”

Interesting answer.

“Where do you live? Usually.”

He waved a noncommittal hand in the air, evading a question that most people would consider extremely simple. The reaction was confirmed by his words. “That’s complicated.”

“For escaped cons on the run, maybe. Not normal people.”

“I’m not exactly normal people.”

Undoubtedly.

“But my mailing address doesn’t really matter, does it? All that matters is that I’ll be around this weekend.”

“Just this weekend…” she murmured, before she could think better of it.

Sean nodded once. Though his voice remained friendly, his smile diminished the tiniest bit. “Yes, Annie. One weekend. I’ll be leaving Chicago on Monday.”

Annie heard what he was saying, and what he wasn’t. She had to give the man credit—at least he wasn’t making empty promises. He was laying it out on the table, what he could offer her, what she might expect from him. His terms.

He didn’t say “Take it or leave it.” He didn’t have to.

She’d take it. How much of it, she wasn’t sure yet. But, at least, she knew the rules going in and could decide whether or not that weekend would end at her front door when they returned from her family’s place, on Sunday afternoon.

Or in her bed, much later that night.

“I understand,” she finally replied, forcing herself to sound casual, completely unaffected by the unspoken agreement they’d just made. “Through this weekend.”

“Okay,” he said, though, surprisingly, he didn’t sound entirely comfortable about her ready agreement. “Now we have to decide how we’re going to spend it.”

They were going to spend it perpetrating a fraud. But that seemed a little too honest to start out the conversation.

“Where do you live?” he asked.

“That’s not complicated. I have an apartment in Lincoln Park. Not far from my day care center.”

“And you live alone? No roommates?”

She knew he was trying to get more information, possibly even open the door to discuss her romantic past. But no way was she going there. “Just me and Wally.”

His jaw stiffened. “Who’s Wally?”