The Player. Part 10

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She wanted him.

He was the puppy in the window, the candy through the gla.s.s, the last piece of cake on the platter. He was every risk she'd never taken, every thanks-but-no-thanks, every missed opportunity.

But more importantly, tonight he was hers.

Moses lifted his head from her lap, signaling Jamie's timely arrival. The dog murmured a low woof, then lumbered off the sofa to the door. Audrey stood, felt a wild thrill whip through her midsection and her palms suddenly tingled in antic.i.p.ation of what was to come. She grabbed Moses by the collar and opened the door.

Jamie smiled, a crooked s.e.xy grin that made her heart do an odd little dance. He'd loaded the t.e.s.t.i.c.l.e basket with the bottle of whiskey and a bouquet of flowers he'd obviously snagged from the landscaping beds. Odd that she'd find that endearing. "For you," he said, offering it to her.



Chuckling, Audrey accepted the gift. "Come in," she told him. She gestured toward his gift. "Nice to see you found a purpose for your basket."

Jamie sidled forward, brushed his lips across hers and nuzzled her cheek. "I'm nothing if not resourceful."

Heaven help her, Audrey thought, because her heart was nothing if not doomed.

JAMIE HAD BARELY TAKEN A STEP into the room before Moses had once again gone for his crotch. He grunted, made a little "whoa-ho-ho" noise, and stepped back, awkwardly trying to avoid being victimized by the dog again. Honestly, he knew this was normal canine behavior, but couldn't help being embarra.s.sed nonetheless. This was the third time, dammit. It was beginning to become a habit. " into the room before Moses had once again gone for his crotch. He grunted, made a little "whoa-ho-ho" noise, and stepped back, awkwardly trying to avoid being victimized by the dog again. Honestly, he knew this was normal canine behavior, but couldn't help being embarra.s.sed nonetheless. This was the third time, dammit. It was beginning to become a habit. "Moses, please, man," he said with a shaky laugh. "I don't know you well enough and, even if I did, you aren't my type." please, man," he said with a shaky laugh. "I don't know you well enough and, even if I did, you aren't my type."

Audrey's face pinkened and she hurriedly dragged the dog back once more, no small feat when the animal had to weigh in excess of 150 pounds. "Moses," she admonished through gritted teeth. "Cut it out." "Cut it out." She pushed a hand through her long curly hair. "I've got a solution for this," she said. "Hold on." She disappeared into the kitchen, then returned a few seconds later with an aerosol can. "This won't stain," she told him, and before he knew what she was about to do, she aimed the can at his crotch and sprayed him with it. Jamie gaped. "What the-" She pushed a hand through her long curly hair. "I've got a solution for this," she said. "Hold on." She disappeared into the kitchen, then returned a few seconds later with an aerosol can. "This won't stain," she told him, and before he knew what she was about to do, she aimed the can at his crotch and sprayed him with it. Jamie gaped. "What the-"

"Turn around."

"What?"

"Turn around," she repeated. "I need to put a shot of this on your-"

"a.s.s," he supplied helpfully. Jamie wrinkled his nose. "What is that? It smells."

"Exactly. It's a repellent." She stood once more, popped the lid back on the can. "It'll keep him from, you know-" she gestured toward his package "-checking you out."

Now this was a first, Jamie thought, absolutely stunned. He'd never had a repellent repellent spayed upon his privates. He felt a slow grin tug at the corner of his mouth. "This only works on the dog, right?" spayed upon his privates. He felt a slow grin tug at the corner of his mouth. "This only works on the dog, right?"

She laughed, the sound feminine and oddly gentle. "Right. I use it to keep him out of things I don't want him messing with."

Did that mean she wanted exclusive rights to his p.e.n.i.s? Jamie wondered, resisting the urge to tease her further about it.

Seemingly following his line of thinking, she darted him a somewhat sheepish look. "Well, you know what I mean."

G.o.d, she was beautiful. Jamie grinned. "I do."

She turned and started back toward the kitchen. "I hope you like Italian."

Unexpected delight expanded in his chest. "You cooked for me?"

"Baked ziti," she said, neatly avoiding his question. "Caesar salad and chocolate pie for dessert."

"Sounds fabulous. You didn't have to go to all that trouble," he told her, and he meant it. In fact, though he appreciated the gesture, it made him feel downright uncomfortable knowing that he planned to use the ma.s.sage as a seduction tool. He'd brought that bottle of whiskey, a bouquet of flowers and a handful of rubbers just to mark the occasion.

And she'd been busy cooking for him.

Though he knew it was ridiculous, her gesture pleased him far more than it should have. His mother and grandmother cooked for him all the time when he'd been at home and he'd had one serious girlfriend in college-Sh.e.l.ley-the-two-timing-b.i.t.c.h-Edwards-who'd cooked for him while they'd lived together. Since then, he hadn't gotten close enough to a woman to warrant something as domestic as cooking. This was nice, Jamie decided, inexplicably pleased.

"Make yourself at home," Audrey called. "I've got to pull this out of the oven."

"Can I help?"

"No, I've got it, thanks."

Rather than park himself on her sofa, Jamie wandered around her living room, inspecting various pictures which lined her mantel. Not surprisingly, there were several of her and the Colonel. A couple of candid shots of her down by the lake. Several chronicled Moses's growth, Jamie noted, resulting in a smile. Proud momma, eh? he thought with a shake of his head. Interestingly enough, there were no pictures of Derrick. He grimaced with pleasure and rocked back on his heels.

That had to be significant.

As for her house, it was a larger version of the cottages. White beadboard lined the bottom of the walls and she'd painted the top an interesting shade of blue, the color of an almost-but-not-quite night sky. Various vintage prints-Art Deco-were scattered around the room and a large antique mirror hung over her fireplace.

A comfy contemporary sofa had been dressed up with puffy floral pillows and instead of a traditional coffee table, she'd opted for an old seaman's trunk. It was an eclectic mix of old and new-the end result was not only a reflection of herself, but comfortable and homey as well. He could very easily see her and Moses curled up on her couch watching TV and snacking, and to his acute discomfort, his imagination obligingly Photoshopped himself into that picture.

Audrey chose that moment to peer around the kitchen wall. "Dinner's on," she said, smiling. That adorable dimple winked in her cheek.

Once again, he was struck by just how beautiful she really was. Something in his chest squeezed, almost painfully. She'd left her espresso curls down and loose and, if she wore any make-up aside from a coat of pinkish gloss on her lips, she'd applied it with a very light hand. She was fresh and open and those kind, soothing eyes twinkled with some sort of hidden joy. She was bright and infectious and s.e.xy as h.e.l.l-the total package. Jamie released a pent-up breath, one he hadn't realized he'd been holding. And the Colonel was right, he thought.

She was was special. special.

And there was no way in h.e.l.l he was going to let her marry Derrick.

Seduction on, he thought, purposely kicking the charm factor up a notch. Playtime was over. he thought, purposely kicking the charm factor up a notch. Playtime was over.

10.

AUDREY WATCHED Jamie's lips curl into that trademark bone-melting grin as he sidled into her kitchen, and she felt the abrupt s.h.i.+ft in his intent. It was as though he'd flipped a switch, the change was so remarkable. Jamie's lips curl into that trademark bone-melting grin as he sidled into her kitchen, and she felt the abrupt s.h.i.+ft in his intent. It was as though he'd flipped a switch, the change was so remarkable.

He wore a pair of faded denim jeans which were tight in all the right places and a brown cable-knit sweater which accentuated his broad, muscled shoulders and picked up the golden tones of those remarkably s.e.xy eyes. From the looks of things, he'd attempted to gel his unruly curls into place, but had failed because they'd sprung free, a riot of loose and s.e.xy locks she simply itched to push her fingers through. He obligingly pulled her chair out for her.

"Thank you," Audrey murmured.

"You're welcome," he said silkily. He took his own seat. "Thank you for cooking. It's been a long time since I've had a home-cooked meal."

"Oh?" Fis.h.i.+ng again, but what the h.e.l.l? By this point he should expect it. Audrey filled his salad bowl first, then hers.

He grinned and his gaze twinkled with knowing humor. "You never give up, do you?"

She speared a forkful and shot him a smile. "No. It's part of my charm."

"Oh, I don't think I'd say that," Jamie told her, his gaze dropping with lingering accuracy to her lips. He finally relented with a sigh. "Let's just say that I have a roommate who isn't any better in the kitchen than I am, and my mother and grandmother live too far away to make dropping by their house for dinner do-able."

"How far out of Atlanta do they live?"

Jamie finished a bite of salad. "Five and half hours. They're in Alabama."

So that was the Roll Tide connection. Her grandfather had told her that they'd met at the University of Alabama. She should have realized that he still had family there.

In the process of carefully moving all of his olives to the side of his plate, Audrey frowned. "You don't like olives. I'm sorry," she said. "I should have asked."

Jamie glanced up. "No problem," he a.s.sured her with an easier grin. "They're easy to spot and easy to move."

"And-" Audrey forked one up from the side of his plate "-they are not meant to go to waste. I love love olives." olives."

Jamie stilled for a fraction of a second, watched the olive leave his plate via her fork and then land in her mouth. Audrey swallowed. "Is something wrong?" she asked. Maybe he didn't like them on salad, but preferred them otherwise? "Were you going to eat that?"

"No," he said, blinking out of whatever had bothered him. He made a face. "Olives are nasty. They're not in the ziti, are they?"

Audrey chuckled. "No."

Jamie ladled some of the Italian dish onto her plate, then his. "Good." He paused. "You know, if we were dating, this would be like our...third date, wouldn't it?"

The question came so far out of left field that Audrey choked on her wine. "Uh...Well, we aren't dating, so it's a moot point. But yeah, I suppose if we were, this would be considered our third date of sorts." Bewildered, she darted him a confused glance. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," he said quickly, then shoved a forkful of ziti into his mouth. He looked curiously alarmed, though for the life of her, she couldn't imagine why.

Audrey frowned. "Are you all right? You look a little flushed."

"This is spicy."

No, it wasn't, Audrey thought, thoroughly baffled by his behavior. Rather than pursue it, though, she decided to continue their conversation. He'd finally given her a little bit of personal information. That was a start, at any rate.

"So your family lives too far away to cook for you. What about a girlfriend? There's no future Mrs. Flanagan wannabe who whips up meals in your honor?"

The comment drew a laugh, full and throaty, and seemed to ground him once more. He picked up his gla.s.s, inspected the contents. "Er. No."

Audrey shrugged, ridiculously pleased. Honestly, she had no vested interest in whether or not he had a girlfriend, but she couldn't deny that the idea that there might be another woman in his life irritated her beyond prudent reason. In fact, it made her downright ill. A significant revelation no doubt lurked in her disproportionate jealousy, but why ruin what was going to be a wonderful evening with expectations and what-might-have-beens?

"What about you?" Jamie asked, turning the probing conversation around on her. "Does the future Mr. Audrey Kincaid cook for you?" he drawled.

She grimaced, smiled. "There is no future Mr. Audrey Kincaid."

His gaze tangled with hers above the rim of his gla.s.s. "But I thought you said you were supposed to be considering a marriage proposal this week?"

She c.o.c.ked her head, conceding the point. "I am. I've considered. I'm saying no."

Though she might have imagined it, something seemed to s.h.i.+ft in Jamie's gaze. He hadn't moved, hadn't so much as blinked, and yet she felt him tune in more fully. "Really? What made you come to that conclusion?"

A laugh broke up in her throat and she rolled her eyes. "You mean aside from the fact that I can't keep myself from kissing you?" she said, grinning. "He's just not the man for me. It, uh...It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

"Would you have said no if you had been able to resist kissing me?" he asked, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"No, I'd planned to say no all along." She scooted a cut gla.s.s tumbler toward him and gestured toward the Jameson. "I was just dreading it."

Jamie's eyes twinkled with some sort of secret humor. He poured her a shot of the whiskey and slid it back to her, then hefted his own gla.s.s. "Here you go," he said. "Liquid courage."

How timely, Audrey thought, as she brought the tumbler to her lips. She was going to need it because she grimly suspected he planned to call in his ma.s.sage any minute now. Her hands on that hot silky skin, shaping those incredible muscles... Her hands on that hot silky skin, shaping those incredible muscles... She took a drink, allowed the smooth honey-like taste of the whiskey to caress her tongue before swallowing. He was right, she thought, immeasurably pleased-no burn. Just a pleasant warmth which quickly expanded in her belly, then gradually infected the rest of her body. She took a drink, allowed the smooth honey-like taste of the whiskey to caress her tongue before swallowing. He was right, she thought, immeasurably pleased-no burn. Just a pleasant warmth which quickly expanded in her belly, then gradually infected the rest of her body.

Audrey inclined her head. "This is good," she told him.

Jamie shrugged. "I like it."

"Are you ready for dessert?" she asked.

His s.e.xy twinkling gaze told her he had other ideas in mind. "Maybe later," Jamie said. He leaned back in his chair and absently scratched his chest. "I thought I'd let you go ahead and give me that ma.s.sage."

Audrey chuckled. "Let me, eh? How thoughtful of you," she said wryly. me, eh? How thoughtful of you," she said wryly.

"I'm nothing if not thoughtful."

"I thought you said you were nothing if not resourceful?"

Jamie nodded sanctimoniously. "That, too."

Audrey laughed, then stood and cleared their plates. "You're nothing if not full of s.h.i.+t, that's what you are."

"Let me help you," Jamie offered, chuckling. He stood and quickly helped her clear the table. It was nice, Audrey decided, warmed from a combination of his presence and the Jameson.

When the last dish was washed and dried, she took a deep breath, and then turned to face him. "Thank you," she said, feeling uncharacteristically sheepish.

Jamie nodded, pressing a shameless hand against his chest. "What can I say? I'm nothing if not helpful."

Actually, he was nothing if not gorgeous and charming and wonderful and she wanted him more with each pa.s.sing second. Her gaze tangled with his and the breath seemed to thin in her lungs. A hot c.o.c.ktail of seduction and s.e.x was imminent. She could feel it every time that somnolent gaze raked over her. Her skin p.r.i.c.kled and her belly fluttered with unstable air. She was a wreck, Audrey decided. A s.e.xually frustrated wreck.

"Where do you want me?" Jamie asked.

Audrey blinked. "What?"

He laughed, the sound intimate and darkly s.e.xy. "For my ma.s.sage," he explained.

Well, they could save a lot of time by merely moving things to her bedroom, but she supposed she should at least give the impression of not being a complete pushover and administer the ma.s.sage in the living room on her ma.s.sage table.

"I, uh..." She jerked her finger toward the other room. "I'll just go set it up."

"Audrey?"

She turned on her heel, but before she could take a single step, Jamie stopped her with a mere touch of his hand.

"Yes?"

The Player. Part 10

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The Player. Part 10 summary

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