A Demonic Bundle (36 page)

“Noon is fine,” he said, still not moving. Not even straightening away from the computer. And her.

“Good,” she poised her fingers over the keys and began typing in his hours. “Then I think we are all settled. You can take off now if you like.”

When he didn’t move, she added, “You should go get some lunch. You must be hungry.” She flashed him a quick smile without really looking at him.

This time he did stand, but he didn’t move away. Instead he leaned against her desk, the old piece of furniture creaking under his tall, muscular weight.

“You must be hungry, too. Would you like to join me?”

She blinked, for a moment not comprehending his words, her mind too focused on the muscles of his thighs so near her. The flex of more muscles in his shoulders and arms as he crossed them over his chest.

She forced herself to look back at the computer screen.

“I—I don’t think so,” she said. “I have a lot to do here.”

“But surely you allow yourself a half-hour lunch break.”

She continued typing, fairly certain whatever she was writing was gibberish. “I brought a lunch with me, actually.” Which was true. Not that she was hungry at the moment. She was too—edgy.

“Come on,” he said in a low voice that was enticing, coaxing. “Come celebrate your first regular volunteer.”

She couldn’t help looking at him. He was smiling, the curl of his lips, his white, even teeth, the sexily pleading glimmer in his pale green eyes.

God, he was so beautiful.

And dangerous.

Jo shook her head. “I really can’t.”

He studied her for a moment. “Can’t or won’t? What’s the matter, Josephine? Do I make you nervous?”

Jo’s breath left her for a moment at the accented rhythm of her full name crossing his lips. But the breath-stealing moment left as quickly as it came, followed by irritation. At him and at herself.

She wasn’t attracted to his man—not beyond a basic physical attraction. And that could be controlled. It could.

“You don’t make me nervous,” she said firmly.

“Then why not join me for lunch?”

“Because,” she said slowly, “I have a lot of work to do.”

Maksim crossed his arms tighter and lifted one of his eloquent eyebrows, which informed her that he didn’t believe her for a moment.

“I don’t think that’s why you won’t come. I think you are uncomfortable with me. Maybe because you are attracted to me.”

Again the eyebrow lifted—this time in questioning challenge.

“That is ridiculous. You are so not my type.”

Maksim shrugged as if her rejection didn’t bother him in the least. It probably didn’t. Men like Maksim knew other women were only a charming smile and smooth line away.

More irritation rose in her chest—even as she told herself she should be thankful that he was accepting her dismissal so easily.

“Well, if I’m not your type, then lunch should be no big deal. Just some shared food and company between coworkers.”

She almost pointed out that she was in essence his boss, but caught herself. Now wouldn’t that sound petty? And defensive—and she wasn’t on the defense.

“No, thank you.” She shifted in her chair, attempting to dismiss him completely.

“I think you are uncomfortable with me. And if not because you are attracted to me, then why?” he said, as if just pondering the theory aloud. He didn’t move.

Finally, after it was clear he wasn’t going to leave until he’d sorted out a satisfactory solution in that far too pretty brain of his, she let out an annoyed groan. She rose, her body brushing briefly against his as she did so. She ignored the shock wave of awareness, and pushed her chair in with a little more force than necessary.

“Fine. I’ll go to lunch with you.”

“Great,” he said.

But Jo didn’t miss his smug smile as he moved around the desk toward the door.

Why did she have the feeling she just got totally played? Played right into his little plan?

M
aksim walked beside Jo, trying to keep the self-satisfaction out of his tone. Really, he was jumping the gun, being too overconfident. Oh, he knew he’d get what he wanted—eventually—but Josephine Burke was a tough cookie. She still wasn’t acting like she was ready to fall into bed with him. He’d just barely gotten her to go eat a meal with him.

He was making headway—and frankly he was finding the chase fun. But only to a certain point. He wouldn’t be patient forever.

“So do you have a favorite place around here?” he asked.

“I don’t really know,” she said. “I haven’t been here long enough to explore much. I haven’t really had the time, either.”

“You’ve been working a lot, then?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

They both fell silent for a few moments.

“How about you? Do you know a good place?”

“Sure.” If there was one thing he knew, it was food. And frankly, it was the only thing he liked about New Orleans. “I know a place just a couple blocks from here.”

He took the lead, picking his way around the broken and uneven patches on the sidewalks. He glanced back to make sure she was okay. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat. Stray locks of her long, dark hair clung to her sweat-dampened skin, bringing to mind what she’d look like after he’d spent a night pleasuring her.

The vivid picture of that eventuality slipped away as he noted the way she was carefully picking her way along the rough, eroded concrete, her open-toe sandals making the sidewalk even more precarious.

He slowed his pace and opened his mouth to ask her if she was all right, when the toe of one of his Ferragamos hooked on a jagged piece of concrete. He caught himself, but not before Jo grabbed his arm to help steady him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, seeming to steal his quesion from his mouth.

Maksim nodded, but his mind whirred. When was he ever clumsy? When did he trip? That answer was easy. Never. Well, never until this moment.

But he’d been distracted. By Jo. And not just a sexual distraction, either. He’d been concerned for her—so concerned he wasn’t paying attention to what was most important. Himself.

He paused, trying to comprehend what the hell was going on. And he studied Jo. She was a lovely woman—for a mortal—tall, elegant with dark eyes that seemed slightly sad and soulful. Her lips were neither too wide nor too thin. But they were prettily shaped, bowed at the top, fuller on the bottom. And when they turned up in a real, unguarded smile, his heart pounded in his chest and he filled with delight.

Annoyance rose up in him like a flash flood. Anger with himself and with Jo. When did he consider things like what a woman’s smile did to him? He was a tits-and-ass man. He liked pretty faces and rockin’ bodies. He gave great thought to how they would feel wrapped around him, naked. Not at the melancholy in their eyes.

What was the deal with this woman? Why was she having this effect on him? He was admittedly as shallow as they came. His attraction never bordered on poetic and protective.

“Are you sure you are okay?” Jo touched his arm, the first time she reached out to him in anything resembling friendship. It should have pleased him, but all he could think was something wasn’t right here. Something was different and dangerous and unnerving about this woman.

But when she didn’t remove her fingers, some of that agitation left him. Her fingers were warm and gentle on his skin. Soothing.

But only for a moment, then raw need filled him, and he found that response more comforting. Normal.

He mustered up a sheepish smile, even though he was still feeling uneasy. “I’m fine, just feeling like a klutz.”

Jo smiled. “I can’t believe it wasn’t me. I trip over my own feet. And these sidewalks are treacherous.”

Maksim forced his smile to deepen, even though concerns still plagued him. But he did feel unadulterated lust, too. A good sign. To comfort himself further and to keep his mind on the goal, he looped her arm around his.

“I guess it’s good you agreed to accompany me. I clearly need the help.” He gave her a wink.

She smiled, shaking her head at his flirting. But she must not have found it threatening, because she didn’t pull away; instead, she fell into step with him.

He smiled down at her, giving the gesture all his charm. Okay, so he was reacting to her more than he did other mortal women—other females in general—but that just meant that he wanted her badly.

Keep your eye on the goal, boy. That’s all that matters.

“Here we are,” he said stepping into an alcove and opening the door.

“This is lovely,” Jo said looking around the open courtyard, which was filled with greenery and flowers, as she pulled out her chair. Maksim moved around behind her, holding the chair for her, pushing it in as she sat.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, glancing back at him just for a second, but once again he couldn’t quite read her reaction.

He took the seat to her right. Not across from her—that was too far away. And he wasn’t messing around anymore. He didn’t have the time to waste. Obviously he wasn’t going to be able to function normally until he’d nailed this woman.

Even as he used the rude, impersonal term, his mind rebelled against it. He wanted to have sex with her, that was for certain—but…

He gritted his teeth. He was doing it again! Just stay focused. It didn’t matter what he called it as long as he got this woman in his bed.

“The menu looks great,” Jo said, drawing his attention away from his strange debate with himself.

He hadn’t even opened his own. He did, making himself concentrate on his second-favorite thing after sex. Food.

“Do you come here often?” Jo looked around again, smiling appreciatively at the greenery and quaint appeal of the place. “It’s so beautiful.”

He glanced around, too. It
was
lovely here and made lovelier by Jo’s presence.

Stop it!

“A few times,” he said, studying the menu—gathering his idiotic wits. “The walnut chicken salad is delicious. Great raspberry dressing.”

She made an approving noise, then snapped her menu closed. “That’s what I’m getting. It sounds wonderful.”

Maksim watched her as she took a sip of her water. She really was beautiful—and his desire for her bordered on desperation.

“It is wonderful,” he agreed. Then he smiled, offering her the brunt of his charisma. “I’m so glad you decided to join me. And agreed to let me help at the community center.” He lifted his water glass in a toast.

Her smile slipped slightly, easily picking up on his shift to supercharming. Not the reaction he’d hoped he’d get. But she did join him, clinking her glass against his.

She took another sip, regarding him over the rim, for once her eyes easy to read. She was uncertain. Not the emotion he wanted—but better than the closed-down, shut-away look she could get.

Some of her guard had dropped with him, but it was on a hairpin trigger and could shoot back into place in the blink of an eye.

He shifted in his chair, subtly pulling back, giving her space. “How did you start working in this field?”

Jo leaned back a bit, too, unconsciously relaxing along with him. Her reaction gave him hope that he wasn’t totally out of control. He could still manipulate the situation to suit him.

“Well, I double majored in social work and education in college with a minor in English,” she said.

He whistled, honestly impressed. “Very industrious.”

Jo shrugged. “I’ve always liked to keep busy.”

“I’d say.”

“I worked as an English teacher for many years in Washington D.C. I was also a student advisor at a private secondary school.”

“A private school. That sounds a lot cushier than St. Ann’s Community Center.” As clearly motivated as she was, why would she take on a job that would never pay a large salary nor raise her to a prestigious position?

As soon as the words were out, he regretted them, suspecting they would put her on the defensive. But to his surprise, she laughed.

“Oh, it was definitely cushier. But I really needed to get away—” She let her words just end, hiding it behind taking a sip of her water, and Maksim knew she’d been about to say something she’d rather not.

“I, umm, just really needed a change,” she finally said. “And I also needed to do something that made me feel more fulfilled. Truthfully, teaching
Macbeth
and
Beowulf
to over-privileged, overindulged kids wasn’t rewarding in the least.”

“So struggling to get help and money from a community that doesn’t care does fulfill you?” This time he clearly didn’t keep the derision from his voice, because Jo’s smile faded into a frown.

“Of course it’s fulfilling. These kids need that community center. They need an advocate. They need the volunteers—like you,” she said pointedly. “And I need to know I’ve made a difference in the world.” Her frown deepened. “I mean, isn’t that why you’ve done the things you’ve done?”

For a moment, the “things” he’d done popped into his mind. None of them for the betterment of humanity. None of his actions designed to make a difference to anyone but himself.

“Well, yes,” he said, though. “Yes, of course that’s why I do the things I’ve done.”

Something akin to guilt made it hard to swallow, but he did, forcing it down with a smile.

She regarded him for a few moments, then turned her attention to the waiter, who appeared with a wrapped loaf of warm French bread. They placed their orders, although Maksim couldn’t have said what he got.

What the hell was wrong with him? Why did her desire to make a difference, and his utter disinterest in doing so, bother him? He shouldn’t be giving it another thought. So she was a “save-the-world” type. He should be just hoping that meant she’d be more than generous in bed. And he’d make her feel very, very fulfilled.

Maksim cut off a piece of the bread, offering it to her. Jo accepted with a mumbled thanks.

They both ate silently. Maksim focused on Jo; she focused on her bread, her water, anything but him.

“Did you like living in D.C.?” he asked, grasping for any topic of conversation when he realized she wasn’t going to speak first. And seduction just didn’t work when the person you were trying to seduce was more attentive to a piece of French bread than you.

“I did, yes.”

She didn’t continue, and Maksim knew there was more to the story than her short response was revealing. But as had been the case since meeting this woman, he couldn’t read her features. Had she left simply for a change? Or had she left because she had to leave?

Somehow he didn’t think prying would get him any further toward what he wanted from her. Still he did wonder, was it something that had happened back there that made her dark eyes appear melancholy so often?

“Did you grow up there?” he asked, avoiding the more interesting question of why she left.

She shook her head. “No, I actually grew up in a small town in western Maine.”

“Was that nice? It must have been beautiful—and cold. I like cold.”

She smiled at that. “It is very beautiful—and definitely cold.” The topic of her hometown seemed to be a good and safe one, because she continued, warming up to the subject of her childhood and life in Maine, talking even as the waiter left their lunches.

“So you pick blueberries with a rake?” Maksim asked in between bites of his crawfish étouffée, after she told him about her multiple summers spent doing something called “blueberry raking.”

“No,” Jo said with an impish smile. “You pick blueberries with your hands. You
rake
blueberries with a rake.”

Maksim smiled back, enjoying her relaxed demeanor. The way her lack of wariness allowed her dark eyes to glitter with humor and delight. The way she used her hands to tell her story, animated, uninhibited. The way her smile made her whole face light up. No melancholy, no reservation.

And he wouldn’t delve back into why he liked all those things so much. He was enjoying himself too much to over-analyze.

“Okay,” he said slowly, trying to comprehend such a strange thing to do as a job. “So you use this rake, and what? Rake them into a pile?

“No!” Jo laughed. “I’ve already explained this twice.”

Maksim shook his head, giving her a perplexed look. “I just can’t imagine there isn’t a better way to get blueberries.”

“Well, there isn’t. You use this rake, which has tines and a metal back. You slide the tines under the bush and pull up.” She imitated the action to clarify. “The berries come off in the rake and gather at the metal back.”

“Are you sure?”

Jo laughed again, the sound rich and warm, circling around him like the fit of a perfectly tailored suit. “Yes!”

Maksim laughed, too, realizing he wasn’t even pretending to enjoy her story like he so often did with women he planned to seduce. He liked her company—how odd.

“I think you’ve made this up,” he said, grinning.

“I haven’t.” She smiled, too, as she speared pieces of her salad and popped them into her mouth. She chewed merrily.