Man's Best Friend (14 page)

Rand gripped both her shoulders. "You are laughing at me," he accused.

She pressed her lips together, held onto her secret as if it were her last ten pennies, and she was desperate for a dime. Again she shook her head.

Still holding her shoulders, he glanced over his own. Unrepentant, Licks, his nose caked with dirt, sat patiently, stick in mouth, watching them. "I could have him stuffed and hung over the mantel. Save a hell of lot on dog food."

"You could." She smiled, feeling all misty and warm.

"Then again maybe I'll just—"

He touched her mouth with his, and his kiss, freely given in the brightness of a spring morning, sealed it. Tessa Darwin was a goner, another crazy woman who'd given her heart to the wrong man. She sighed into his kiss and pulled his dark head closer. Her body warmed under his leisurely demands, began a perilous descent into the kind of need a smart woman avoided. This was desire, hot, intense, and risky. A risk Tessa decided to take.

"In a couple of months I'll be gone," she muttered against his throat. "I'll handle it."

"Handle what?" Rand asked, moving his mouth to her hair.

She pulled back and for the first time failed to meet his eyes. "I said—" she stepped back, needing space, "—we should handle the dogs. You know, as in training?" Her smile was wobbly, but okay, she figured.

Rand rubbed her chin with his thumb. "You're in charge. Let's do it."

They didn't get the chance. Rand's cell phone rang, and whatever the message, it took him back to the house.

* * *

Tessa stayed with the dogs and her stew of thoughts, sitting in the tall grass at the far end of the yard. Feeling wonderful and terrible at the same time, she idly smoothed a blade of grass over her denim-covered knee.

How on earth was she going to keep her mouth shut and Rand from knowing what she felt? What if she blurted it out? That's what she usually did. Blurt things. Maybe she'd better spend more of her spare time—what there was of it—with Mom and Annie. No point hanging around here with a sky full of misplaced stars in her eyes.

If she thought for a second that she had a chance...

Killing that useless line of thought, she got up and tossed the blade of grass.

She saw Milt coming toward her from the house. He waved. She waved back.

"The industry titan won't be back, I'm afraid." He reached down and patted Millie's head. The dog nuzzled his hand. "Our current deal-in-progress, Mr. Macy, will be here for dinner after all. Himself—" he looked toward the house "—sends his apologies, says he'll be cocooned in his office for the remainder of the day."

Tessa let out a sigh, part relief, part disappointment. "That's okay. I have to go see my mom and Annie anyway. I'll spend a little more time with the dogs and I'm off." She tried to sound bright and pert, but had no idea if she carried it off, and she tried not to look at Rand's house with longing.

Milt rubbed his chin, hesitated. "It's not my business, Tessa girl, but be careful about him." He gestured vaguely toward the house "Don't expect too much, too soon."

"Am I that transparent?" she asked.

"You are, indeed, and Rand's a fine man, but—" He stopped. "Complicated."

"I know what you mean." She rose on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "But about those expectations? Don't worry, because I don't have any."

"I believe you do, and I believe you're entitled to them, but you won't get anywhere if you don't—" He stopped again, clearly uncomfortable talking about his employer and friend.

"Persevere?" she suggested, trying to smile.

"That'll do. Along with some patience."

"Now that could be a problem." She forced a smile. "Don't worry, Milt. He'll be okay, and so will I."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"He'd like you to come to dinner tonight. Along with Mr. Macy, you'll get to meet Neddy's wife."

Tessa sighed, and Millie shoved her nose reassuringly into her hand. "Tell him thanks, but I don't think so. Like I said, I think I'll visit my family for a bit. I'll take Licks, so you don't have to worry about him and come back later."

"All right. Shall I save something for you?"

"No. Thanks. I'll eat with Mom, but I won't say no to some dessert." Like maybe an avalanche of chocolate to bury her troubles. Love troubles.

"Done. See you later."

* * *

Rand lifted his eyes from the spreadsheets covering his desk and flicked off his computer screen. Cullen Macy would be here any minute, and Rand was ready. The German buyer was lined up; and with the usual fast legal work, Rand wouldn't hold Macy's company, Destiny Tech, for more than three days. Anima III, the company's breakthrough diagnostic tool that would, according to Macy and every other expert Rand consulted, revolutionize blood testing procedures in every laboratory in the country, would go to Europe.

Rand's gut constricted. If he didn't know better, he'd swear it was guilt. And maybe a trace of regret. This was exciting stuff. He could...

What? Ride with it? Trade an easy forty million bucks for years of research and development, the painstakingly slow steps necessary to refine and ready a medical product for market?

Rand rubbed his forehead and took a couple of deep breaths. Maybe the man he'd once been, with a medical degree and idealistic goals, was coming to life again. Why else would he even consider holding on to a company for once?

That wasn't how Red Earth was run. As usual, Rand expected to earn twice as much money as he'd paid out as fast as possible. The flip. Boyd Fielding and Griff had perfected it.

Maybe Cullen wasn't going to be happy, but he'd be a few millions richer. Salve enough, usually. Although Macy might be the exception. Young enough to have his ideals intact, he had no idea Rand was about to go at them with a jackhammer.

He swiveled his chair to face the window just in time to see Cullen's cab pull into his driveway. Rand shook his head. Even now the guy had enough money for a fleet of limos, but he didn't seem to care. All he cared about was his company and what Destiny Tech and Anima III would do for medicine.

Cullen got out of the cab, and as he was paying the fare, Tessa, Millie, and Licks came around the corner of the house. Cullen squatted to say hello to the dogs, then stood and offered his hand to Tessa, grinning like a damn fool. Rand watched Tessa take his hand, laugh when Cullen pointed and said something about Licks.

Rand's brain heated. He didn't want to see Tessa laughing and smiling with another main. He wanted...

Hell. He didn't know what he wanted other than to make love to her until the day after forever. If his cell phone hadn't screamed at him, he'd still be with her, wasting time, letting stupid ideas take root in his sex-crazed brain; ideas like the one he'd just had about Destiny Tech, ideas about Tess—ideas about emotions he hadn't felt in years.

He looked out the window again. It had been a mistake to kiss her earlier, a mistake to walk with her. The smart thing to do was keep their relationship where it belonged—in the bedroom.

Damn!
What on earth were those two doing? And what in hell did they find so damned amusing? He swore they were laughing at his dog.

Rand pushed himself to his feet and strode out of his office. In five seconds he was opening his front door.

"Cullen," he said, nodding—pleasantly, he hoped—in his direction. "Good to see you."

"Hey, Rand." Cullen Macy took a step toward him.

"You've met, Tessa, I take it." Licks swaggered over to sit at Rand's feet, making him feel ridiculously good.

"Certainly did. And your dog. Looks as if we've got something else in common."

Rand lifted a quizzical brow.

"The future of Destiny Tech and Rhodesian Ridgebacks."

"Cullen's got a female, Rand," Tessa said. "About a year old?" She glanced at Cullen. He nodded.

"Great." Rand's tone was unenthusiastic. He looked at Tessa. "You'll be joining us for dinner." He'd intended it as a question; it came out as if it were a house rule.

Tessa frowned. "No, I'm going to my mom's."

"Staying?" He wanted to bite his tongue out. What the hell did he care if she stayed or not? He'd be up all night with Cullen and Ned anyway.

She gave him a funny unreadable little grin, as if he'd pleased her in some way. "No, I'll be back later. Milt's promised to save me some dessert."

He smiled, couldn't help it. "Thank God for Milt's desserts."

"Yeah," she said, then, bold as Licks, walked up and kissed him on the cheek. "See you later."

* * *

It was past ten when Tessa got back to Rand's house. She went to the kitchen where she found Milt, crossword puzzle on knee, pen in hand, dozing in front of the TV. She woke him and sent him, sleepwalking, to his room. He mumbled something about chocolate mousse in the fridge and closed the door behind him.

Sitting at Milt's island, eating her dessert, Tessa heard the voices in the living room but couldn't make out any conversation. Only the absence of laughter.

If her luck held, she'd be in bed before anyone knew she was here. She'd done a lot of thinking today, and she'd come up with a plan—a plan long on risk and short on the patience Milt advised earlier.

She grimaced, waved her spoon. "Sorry, Milt," she said to his kitchen ghost.

The voices drifted in again, Rand's saying something about "building futures together." Tessa almost choked on her whipped cream.

* * *

At two o'clock, Rand turned out the last light. At one minute after two, he paused outside Tessa's room. He knew she was home, because he'd seen her car beside the house. He pulled in a breath, stared at her closed door. If he could have named what he was feeling, it would have come close to wistful, but since a real man couldn't be wistful, it had to be something closer to lustful.

He scowled and headed for his room, telling himself he was too tired anyway.

He'd use the downtime to think about the Macy deal.

Inside his room he closed the door, stripped off his shirt, and walked unerringly toward his bed. He didn't bother turning on the lamp; the moonlight coming in through the high windows was enough.

Naked now, he sat on the edge of the bed and worked his tight neck muscles, rolling his shoulders to release the tension that stiffened them.

"Here, let me do that."

Tessa. Thank God.

He started to turn, but she wouldn't let him. Instead she ran her hands from his waist to center back, rubbing, prodding, stroking, until she reached his shoulders. When he found his voice, he said, "I didn't expect you to be here."

"Neither did I."

"I—"

"Shush," she whispered against his back. "We'll talk later."

She massaged him tenderly, relaxing and arousing him simultaneously. He rolled over and pulled her down beside him. She snuggled under his arm, rested her head on his shoulder, and toyed with his chest hair.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" he asked.

"My mom used to be a massage therapist."

"And now?"

He felt her shoulder lift slightly, drop. "She's has arthritis, mostly in her hands. Kind of career ending."

"Did you have a good time tonight? With your family."

"Always." She snuggled closer." But I missed you."

He squeezed her arm and stroked it, oddly content just to be with her.

"I like Cullen Macy. He's kind of cute," she said.

"I liked the 'missed you' better."

She giggled and it tickled. "Oh, my, I hope that's jealousy."

When he started to deny it, she touched his mouth and smiled into his eyes. "Shut up, Fielding, don't spoil a girl's fantasy."

He pulled her face closer, kissed her softly. "Speaking of fantasies," he murmured. "I've got one or two of my own." He kissed her again. "Could it be because I have this deliciously naked woman in my bed?"

She kissed him back, long and slow, and nibbled on his lower lip. "I thought I'd spare you the sight of my commercial grade underwear."

Their mouths smiled against each other's, breath mingling, warm and expectant. Rand's last thought, before Tessa ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth hard to her own, was that if she wore burlap and cardboard, she'd still turn him on. What he felt for this woman was dangerous.

She pulled back a little. Her gaze, narrowed and sultry, captured his. "We have to talk, Rand."

He leaned his head back on the pillow. Talk wasn't uppermost in his mind at the moment, but something in him knew she was right.

She sat up, put her leg over him, and straddled his hips, moving rhythmically against a part of him he figured would never be relaxed again. "Tessa," he growled, damn near lifting off the bed. He said no more, lost in physical sensation as she took him inside her, inch by aching inch.

When he was buried deep, she leaned over him, and her hair, lit by moonlight at the edges, brushed his face. She was breathless, her voice was ragged. "We do have to talk," she repeated, breathing hard. "Just not right now."