Hotbed Honey (7 page)

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Authors: Toni Blake

BOOK: Hotbed Honey
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Hearing footsteps in the hallway, she turned to see Max enter the large foyer where she stood. He gave her a long, slow perusal that made her feel hot inside. And that also made her realize everything she'd just told herself was obviously a crock.
"Well?" she finally said.
"Sexy as sin itself," he replied, his voice low.
She swallowed hard because she thought she'd detected just a trace of emotion this time, just a faint hint of passion. Enough to send a wave of heat traveling the length of her spine.
Oh yes, that crap about feeling sexual because it was part of the job was a crock. No truth in it whatsoever. She wanted the guy. God help her, but she did. As for thinking she was over him because she didn't want to sleep next to him? More bull. Because right now, right at this moment, she
did
want to sleep next to him. Only she didn't want to sleep. She wanted to do other things, and lots of them. And it was hitting her hard, nearly taking her breath away. If she'd been sick before … well, she was sick now, too. Sick with wanting it, over feeling so much for him, even when he obviously hated her. But this time the sickness didn't diminish her desire. Nope, not one little bit.
Nonetheless, she had to pull herself together and try to continue the conversation. "So you think he'll like me then?"
He flashed her a knowing look that seemed to say, "Quit playing games." Then he raked his eyes over her once more, fueling the fire inside her. "Yeah. He'll like you."
Wearing a black Armani suit, Max looked pretty good himself. Okay, more than pretty good. Really, really good. Which was part of why she was becoming so painfully aware of how much she wanted him. "Aren't you overdressed?" she asked for the sake of curiosity.
He shook his head. "I just got home from work. I'm a stockbroker, remember."
"Oh, right." And she hadn't meant to imply that she minded at all. In fact, she couldn't help thinking that they probably made a very striking couple.
It was only a shame that it was all pretend.
She suddenly felt nervous and decided she'd better be prepared for whatever was coming because, knowing Max, she wouldn't have much of a choice either way. So she took a deep breath and said, "Max, have you thought about … how to convince this guy we're married?"
He didn't answer, and she felt stupid now, so she went on. "I mean, we don't
act
married."
"We're not
acting
married because the guy's not here yet," he said, looking suddenly and unduly worried. "When he
gets
here, then we'll
act
married. Frank said you could pull this off. You're not going to let me down again, are you?"
The words hit her like a blow to the gut. She couldn't believe his contempt! His veiled, snide comments were one thing, but this was, this was… Oh, she was so furious she could barely think straight! As for wanting him … well, he'd very efficiently squelched all the passion that had been flooding her, which was just fine with her. She instantly resolved that she wouldn't sleep with him if he were the last man on earth, and she thought of telling him that, but decided it would be more appropriate to the conversation to say instead, "Of course I can pull it off, you arrogant jerk! And no, I'm not going to let you down. In fact, I'm going to prove to you once and for all just how good a P.I. I am."
"Well, that would be a pleasant surprise."
She sneered at him, for lack of any better response, because the only one she could think of was the I - wouldn't - sleep - with - you - if - you - were - the - last - man - on - earth thing, which might tip him off she was thinking about sex, and she wasn't about to give him the pleasure of knowing that.
Then she made a concerted effort to calm down, because Carlo Coletti would be here any minute and she couldn't let Max rile her like this—she had to stay professional. She drew in a deep, cleansing breath, tried to banish all the crazy, mixed-up emotions from her mind, then spoke in a very calm tone. "I only wanted to know if you'd given any thought to how—"
The chime of the doorbell cut her off. "Show time," Max said.
What timing! She rolled her eyes. Max placed both his strong hands on her shoulders. "Are you ready?"
Not particularly, but she didn't exactly have a choice, did she? She was completely determined to show Max that she could do her job, so she nodded. "Yes. I'm ready."
"Then here we go," he said. And he opened the door.
"Max!" said the man standing on the other side, who was surprisingly youngish and tall and blond, and even kind of handsome. Still, just viewing him from where she stood behind Max, Kimberly could sense the smarmy guy lurking beneath the nice sports jacket—it was something tailored clothes and a handsome face couldn't hide.
"Carlo, come in."
Max stepped back and motioned Carlo inside, and then Carlo's eyes fell on Kimberly and he stopped cold. Yep, he was sleazy all right. He looked at her in that way, the way men couldn't see, but women could sense, the way that felt dirty and ugly and bad. You'd have to be in a desperate place, Kimberly thought instantly, to let this guy get the best of you, but that wasn't her concern right now.
"My God, Max!" he said, still looking at Kimberly. She smiled her way through it, even forcing herself to meet his gaze. He looked like a guy who'd just won the jackpot at Caesar's Palace. "
This
is a beautiful woman, Max!"
"Honey, meet Carlo Coletti," Max said with a huge smile.
She held out her hand and Carlo took it, holding on to it too long, while he extended his other hand to squeeze her elbow—always the giveaway of a true lech. "It's a great pleasure to meet such a lovely lady."
Kimberly cringed inwardly. "It's very nice to meet you, too, Carlo," she returned, sounding incredibly pleasant, even to her own ears.
Max stepped forward and slid his arm around her, resting his hand firmly on her bare shoulder. "And Carlo, this is my treasure of a wife, Kimberly."
And then Max kissed her.
Chapter 3
H
e kissed her long and slow and deep. His tongue glided past her lips, draining the breath from her, leaving her completely weak. Kimberly had no choice but to throw her arms around his neck and hold on or else she'd faint with the utter deliciousness of him.
Well, this answered one question. Apparently he'd given this charade some thought.
Actually, his kiss answered several questions, the rest of which had to do with her wanting him with every ounce of her being, despite his holding her responsible for lots of bad things in his life. She definitely did. And it was definitely way out of her control.
His tongue touching hers was like electricity and it shot a bolt of lightning straight to the lace panties she wore. His mouth had an unusual way of feeling both soft and hard at the same time—something she remembered and cherished. She clutched at him still, the hair at the nape of his neck held tenderly in her fist, her entire body pulsing with the power of his incredible kiss.
And then he was gone, pulling back, ending it. Kimberly tried to breathe again and get her balance, all the while hoping she looked sexy and sophisticated in spite of the fact that Max had just kissed her senseless. "You'll have to forgive me, Carlo," Max said, tinting his voice with masculine laughter. "I don't mean to be so rude. But I was … overcome. When you have a woman like this, you spend every second wanting to be alone with her."
Kimberly still couldn't quite believe he'd done it. It seemed like an impossible thing to have happened … and not a smart thing to do, characterwise. Now, if he'd been playing Rocko the strip-club owner and she'd been Bimbo the stripper, maybe. But he was a stockbroker. They were supposed to be dignified people. She looked up at Carlo for a reaction.
"Oh, don't apologize," he said. "I understand perfectly." He took the opportunity to cast her a wildly lustful look that made her want to retch, but instead she smiled and hoped it came through in her eyes as the truth. She grasped the idea instantly then—Carlo was as sleazy as sleazy got, and Max had played him correctly. Carlo didn't realize classy people didn't make out while greeting guests at the door. He only wished it could have been him. It had done nothing but fuel his desire for her.
"Shall we go have a drink before dinner?" Max suggested, and she flashed him a smile, too, because that suddenly seemed to be her job in the last two minutes—kissing and flashing smiles. In return, he smiled back, this really great smile that pretty much melted everything inside her to molten lava all over again. To top it off, he even put his hand at the small of her back to escort her down the hall.
As they walked toward the living room, and Max and Carlo made manly small talk about Max's Porsche, the past few minutes hit Kimberly anew.
Max had kissed her!
Full, sensuous and passionate! The kid of kiss that young girls dreamed of and the kind of kiss that older girls wanted more and more of. Oh, how she wanted more! She'd wanted more the moment his mouth had left hers. It had been a kiss that drenched your soul in desire and heat and left you knowing that the world would never quite be the same again.
She released a long, deep sigh and let the afterglow of it roll through her. And then she remembered.
Oh God, she'd forgotten so quickly.
It was only pretend.
* * *
"To new friends," Carlo said, clinking his glass against Kimberly's, then Max's.
"New friends," Max echoed.
Kimberly only smiled. Like before, it seemed adequate.
But now that she'd recovered—somewhat—from Max's unexpected kiss, she decided it was time to get to work. "So, Carlo, Max tells me you want to learn about the stock game." She took a step closer to him and gave her head what she hoped was a slightly flirtatious tilt.
Carlo smiled, almost sincerely, but he blew it when his gaze dropped ever so briefly to her breasts before rising back to her eyes. "Yes, it's something I've always been interested in, but never had the time to pursue."
"Then you're not in banking?" she asked, not only to draw out his cover, but also to make him think she was interested in finding out more about him.
Carlo shook his head. "Shipping."
"As in boats?" Kimberly asked, confused.
He shook his head again, a smile on his face. "My company ships merchandise, mostly glassware and fragile items."
"Ah," she said, flicking a short glance to Max. She'd expected him to come up with something a little more exotic or at least impressive. "And how did you meet Max?"
"We both frequent
Chester
's," Max answered for him. Kimberly knew the upscale bar on the ground floor of one of the ritzy office buildings downtown.
"Max is quite a pool shark," Carlo said.
"That he is," she agreed, although she'd never seen Max play pool before. But he'd always told her that a good P.I. possessed a variety of skills that helped him fit into any social setting, and she supposed this was one example. A guy who could play a decent game of pool probably made friends in a bar much easier than a guy who didn't.
"Do
you
play?" Carlo asked her then, a suggestive light twinkling in his eyes.
She almost released a laugh at what she was sure he had intended as a double entendre, but instead held her response to a flirtatious grin. So far, that seemed to be the only skill required from her in this particular case, but when the time came to make their way to the dining room, Kimberly steeled herself, knowing things were bound to get a lot more challenging, starting now.
* * *
Max let Carlo take the place at the head of the table, and he and Kimberly took the seats on either side. It was strategic placement—let Carlo feel important, get close to Kimberly. At the same time, though, he hoped Carlo wouldn't move in on her too quickly. The idea of the slimeball sliding his hand onto her knee beneath the table rankled him.
Max hated the way the guy looked at her. That was why he had kissed her like that when Carlo had walked in the door. It was as if he'd thought acting territorial would protect her. He knew he was
supposed
to want Carlo to react to her this way, but it had happened a little easier than he'd expected. Max now realized it was going to be a little tougher to play dumb than he had anticipated. His ego would definitely take a beating as he let Carlo steal his "wife" right from under his nose while he pretended to be oblivious. Especially when Carlo was such a piece of garbage.

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