Blind Date Disasters & Eat Your Heart Out (8 page)

“No? Then go out with me.”

“We wouldn't work together.”

She was scared, her eyes huge. And suddenly his impatience with her faded. “Just one date,” he said softly. “You've been out with some real losers, Cami. Just let me show you how it could be. How it should be.”

“And then you'll stop this.”

“Absolutely.” Probably.

Maybe.

Okay, no, he wouldn't. But for Cami, this was on a need-to-know basis, and she didn't need to know that. So he smiled. “Want me to prove to you how much you want to try this?”

She let out a nervous laugh. “I don't think—”

He leaned over her and set his mouth to hers. He had no idea what he was doing. Just the thought of Cami was a threat to his string-free heart, but he'd never wanted a woman so much.

From the very first touch of their mouths, he knew he was in trouble. Heat spiraled through his chest, shooting a straight line of fire to his groin.

Pure lust, he reminded himself, that's what this was, and he whispered her name to remember that.

She parted those soft lips. She tasted like strawberry lip gloss and the promise of something even sweeter. Without thinking—which had become impossible with the draining of all his blood for parts south—he deepened the kiss, using his tongue to touch, swirl, caress and tease hers.

Without hesitation, she returned the favor, and within ten seconds he'd run out of air. Pulling back far enough to look at her, he slowly shook his head. “You're right.” He ran a finger over her jaw, along her neck, his gaze dipping to the front of her dress, where her nipples were straining at the thin material, begging for attention that he was dying to give. “You obviously feel nothing for me.”

“You don't get it,” she whispered, her lips wet from his.

“Tell me.”

“You were right about…the others. I went out with them, with all of them, because I knew I was safe. My heart was safe. I would never have given it to them. But with you…”

“With me what? You think I would hurt you?”

“Yes. No. I mean, with you I couldn't keep my heart safe.”

“One date, Cami. That's all I'm asking.”

“Then what?”

“Then you learn how to have a great date.”

“That's all?”

“Sure.”

She pushed up to a sitting position and tipped her head at him.

“Honest,” he said.

“What do you get out of it?”

“You out of my system.”

Her lips curved. “Ah, a man with a motive.”

“We all have motives.” And his was to make sure he kissed her again.

H
E WAS
an incredible lover.

Sensual. Giving. Demanding. And she gave him whatever he asked for in that rough, serrated, sexy voice. Everything. Anything.

Shocking herself.

“More,” he commanded, sliding down her body, kissing every inch of her skin, bringing her up again, up to that jagged edge, holding her there, quivering, whimpering, begging…then flying as she came, again and again.

“Multiple orgasms,” she whispered in disbelief, and woke herself up. It was completely black when she blinked her eyes furiously, and she couldn't breathe.

Surging up, waving her arms wildly in sudden panic, she heard the hard thump and hiss, and just before she hit the floor, as well, she knew.

She'd been on the couch, buried beneath the covers, with Annabel on her head. She'd been
dreaming, dreaming hot, sweaty sex fantasies about her contractor.

“Not my fault,” she told the insulted cat as they lay on the floor, nose to nose. “It was his kiss. And you're a bed hog.”

“Mew.”

“Okay, a couch hog.” Hauling off the tangled covers, she stared at her yellow polka-dot panties, which happened to be all she was wearing. Her hair was in her face, her skin hot and clammy, a reminder of what she'd been dreaming about. “I've got to do laundry,” she told no one in particular.

“No kidding,” Dimi said as she came down the hall and looked at her sister. She wore Cami's favorite sweater, and as she zipped it up with one hand, she pocketed Cami's mascara with the other. “I can't find a thing to wear in this mess.”

“Try your own place,” Cami grumbled. “Or go to Mom's, you moocher.”

“Mom doesn't have near the same quality in makeup. And you might think about pulling those covers back over yourself. You have a man down that hallway, a tall, dark, sexy man who would probably fall at your feet right there on the floor if he came in here and saw you lying there like that, all rosy and glowing.”

Cami looked at herself. Her skin was indeed glowing, and her nipples hard. “I'm not rosy and glowing, I'm cold,” she muttered, but she burrowed beneath the covers. “And don't even think about stealing my last bag of chips. That's my lunch.”

Dimi shrugged and headed toward the door. “While you were moaning in your sleep, a client called.”

Cami straightened. “Somebody wants something sewed?”

“No, a real client. A design client. Seems Mrs. Brown's son got himself in trouble on another so-called blind date she'd set up for him, and that woman wasn't quite as forgiving as you. He's in jail, and she's furious with him. She wants to make it up to you by sending her very rich, very best friend over this afternoon. This friend needs her ten
thousand
square foot home redecorated.”

Cami leaped to her feet. “Oh, my God. Really? You're not just saying that because you look really awful in my sweater?”

Dimi looked at herself. “I look great in this sweater.”

“No, you look awful. Pale.” She wanted that sweater. “Fat,” she added with inspiration.

“Well, shit.” Dimi took it off and threw it at
Cami, who slipped into it, wisely keeping her smile to herself.

“I really have a client?”

Dimi moved toward the door. “Looks like. Don't date her son, and you should be fine.”

“Yeah.” But nerves worked their way to Cami's tummy, and she sank back to the couch. Annabel immediately jumped on top of her.

“Mew.”

“Oh, Annabel.” She hugged the squirming cat. “I'm really on my way.” Burrowing beneath the bushel of covers, she allowed herself to dream. It was almost too much to imagine. She'd wanted this for so long, had worked at it harder than anything she'd ever worked at before.

And now it might happen.

It
would
happen.

She was fixing up her place. And she had her first real client. Then sounds coming from down the hallway registered.

Tanner.

He was an enigma to her. Tall, dark and intense. Very attuned to his work. Passionate. Passionate about his work, his father, about everything in his life.

She thought of all that passion aimed at her and quivered.

Silly. Though she'd read about it in novels, it had never really happened to her before. Why it was happening now, with a man like Tanner, her virtual polar opposite, she didn't know.

He sang off-key, talked in bastardized Spanish to his laborers and swore like a sailor when he didn't know she was listening. He also spoke gently to her cat, even when Annabel continued to steal anything of value and chew it up.

Her dream came back to her, vividly. There'd been no doubt who had been making love to her. He'd been highly sensual, earthy and uninhibited, and in return, he'd made her that way, too. He'd done things to her, shown her things she'd never imagined before.

It was his voice. It sent shivers down her spine and made her want to please him. This need for him was awesome, she thought, sinking deeper in her covers. And terrifying.

Thank God it had all been just a dream.

 

T
ANNER FOUND HER
like that an hour later, fast asleep beneath a pile of blankets. He'd come to work exceptionally early because he'd wanted to get a few things done before he did it.

Before he kidnapped Cami and took her on a fantasy date.

It made little sense, this need to show her a good time. But he'd rationalized it to her as needing to get her out of his system, and he'd go with that.

“It's time,” he said, lifting her in his arms.

She slept like the dead. Murmuring his name, she set her head on his chest.

“I'm having the best dreams this morning,” she told him groggily.

It was almost no longer morning, and she wasn't dreaming, but he grinned and kept his mouth shut.

“Hey. Wait.” Suddenly wide awake, she lifted her head to pierce him with those dark, dark eyes.

From beneath the covers engulfing her, Annabel poked her head out, as well.

“What are we doing?” Cami asked him.

“Going on that date. Without your cat though. Scram, Annabel,” he said.

“Mew,” said the cat.

“No,” said the woman.

Tanner sighed. “I thought we agreed to get each other out of our systems.”

“No,
you
agreed.” Cami shoved against his chest, and he put her on the ground. “I'm date cursed, remember?”

“I'm willing to take the risk.”

“I'm not.” Grappling with her blanket, which she had wrapped around her like a sarong, she flashed him a good amount of leg. He saw bare thigh and caught a glimpse of yellow polka-dot satin. He had to swallow hard. “You're not wearing very much.”

“I need to do laundry. And you're changing the subject.”

“Just come with me. This one time.”

“Where?”

“It's a surprise.”

“I don't like surprises.”

“You'll like this one.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then relented ungraciously. “Fine. If it gets you out of my dreams, let's just do it.” She grimaced. “I meant
do it
as in go on this date, not
do it
as in…as in… Oh, you know.”

He laughed. “So you have ulterior motives for this date, as well?”

“Absolutely.”

“See, now
that's
the way to approach going out. On your own terms.” He was proud of her for that. “Take what you want, Cami. Always take what you want.”

Her eyes darkened all the more, and she looked
at his mouth. “I think I'm going to like this new me.”

God help him. So was he. “Let's go.”

 

C
AMI STOOD
on the banks of the Truckee River, dividing a look between the raft Tanner had dropped at her feet and the turquoise blue waters. “You're taking me
rafting?
”

“Not exactly a cruise, I know.” Tanner handed her an oar. “But just as fun.”

While he held it in place, she stepped gingerly into the gently rocking raft. “And we're doing this so we can stop thinking about each other, right?”

Tanner sat across from her and looked into her questioning eyes. He saw a good amount of apprehension and a fear he was only just beginning to fully understand. “I think you should tell me about these dreams,” he teased, pushing off the shore with his oar and setting them in motion downstream. “Since you seem so adamant about getting rid of them.”

She blushed. “They're no big deal.”

Smiling, he steered them around a fallen log. “Uh-huh.”

“They're not.” She gripped the side of the raft. “This is a bad idea. I knew it would be. I only
agreed because I was afraid you'd get upset with me and give me green walls or something equally tacky, and then where would I be?”

“Your place couldn't get any worse, believe me. And is that really the only reason you're here? It has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that we've discovered this mutual attraction—”

“I've discovered nothing.”

“Which explains why I had you hot and bothered this morning.”

“I was not—” She let out a loud breath. “I'm absolutely not going to do this with you.” Closing her eyes, she leaned back in the raft, tilted her face to the sun and went still.

Lying there beneath the gorgeous sky, surrounded by the incomparable Sierras on the Truckee River, she looked like a goddess.

It occurred to him that he might be in serious trouble here. She wasn't leaving his system.

“This is nice,” she admitted quietly, her eyes still closed. “I've lived here forever and I've never done this.”

“I've only been here a year, but I raft as often as I can. Or kayak.”

She opened her eyes and turned her head to study him. “You've only been here a year?”

“I moved my father here from Los Angeles. It was too hot for him there, that heat and smog were killing him. After he had his stroke, we came here for his recuperation, and neither of us ever left. He lives in Tahoe City now, in a small senior community, and is happier than he's ever been.”

“You love him very much.”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” she whispered, once again closing her eyes. “I wouldn't have moved for my father. Or given up a year of my life to nurse him back to health. What does that say about me?”

“It says you two aren't close. It happens.”

“I hate his current wife. Does that happen, too?”

“Why do you hate her?”

“Because she looks better in a bikini than I do.”

He ran his gaze down her body, wishing she was in a bikini right now. “I find that hard to believe.”

She smiled and relaxed again. “This really is nice.”

“Better than Denny's?”

“Definitely.” She cocked an ear. “What's that sound?”

He listened, and at the unmistakable hissing of
air leaving the raft at an alarming speed, he swore.

“Air.”

She went utterly still, except for her eyes, which had turned into two huge saucers. “
Air?

As in leaving-the-raft air?”

“Yeah.” He tossed her a life preserver.

“Looks like you're still date cursed.”

“You're kidding me.”

“You know how to swim, right?”

“Let me repeat. You're. Kidding. Me.”

“I'll kid you later, I promise.”

“Oh, my God.” She slipped into the life vest and eyed the water, which as luck would have it was so deep in this spot they couldn't see the bottom.

“There are no sharks,” he promised.

“Well, that's more than I can say about my date with Joshua.”

Tanner checked her life jacket. “I'm sorry I stole your condom.”

That coaxed a smile out of her. “No, you're not.”

“Okay, I'm not.” He took her hand. “But I am sorry about the raft.”

She eyed the cold water warily. “Don't worry.

It's still the best date I've had in a while.”

Which wasn't saying much, he knew. “So you'll give me another.”

She laughed. “No way.”

“Come on. A second fantasy date.”

“Nope. This was just to get you out of my system. And you're out. All the way out.”

“I'm going to make you prove that,” he promised softly.

“With another kiss?” She looked hopeful and terrified at the same time. “I'm sure I'll be utterly unmoved.”

“Hmm.” Scooting closer so they were kneeling facing each other in the slowly sinking raft, he slid one hand to the small of her back, the other beneath her hair, skimming his fingers over her nape.

She shivered. Her eyes were half closed.

“Unmoved, right?” he teased softly.

“Absolutely.” But she leaned toward him.

Between them, her nipples hardened against his chest, making him want to groan. His fingers skimmed the skin at the base of her spine, and she arched under his hand, letting out a soft little sound that raged at his gut and groin. Especially his groin.

Water swirled around their knees, but he couldn't pay attention to that, not when she'd
dropped her head back just a little, pressing her body closer into his, her eyes closed to the warm sun.

She was beautiful, and whether or not the thought gave him hives, she was his.

His.

Bending, he put his mouth to her throat.

She practically purred. Her hands lifted, fisted in his hair, held him to her. “Still unmoved?” he asked, dragging openmouthed kisses down to her collarbone, where he stopped to feast on a fascinating stretch of bare skin.

“Absolutely.” Her fingers tightened painfully in his hair. “But don't you dare stop.”

“I won't,” he promised, dipping his mouth down a little farther, to the enticing curve of a breast. “Just getting each other out of our systems, right?”