Saved by the Bride (17 page)

“Annika, we have to leave, now.” His words sounded unreasonably
curt, courtesy of a hell of a lot of frustration. He was the one that was
supposed to be getting all cozy and chatty with Annika. Not that he planned to
do much talking or at least not the type of conversation his mother was about to
have.

Kathleen frowned. “You said you had a conference call so you go
do that and leave Annika here.”

“She hasn’t eaten and there’s food in the office.”

“Finn, I have a kitchen full of food here.”

He knew he was clutching at straws. “I need her to type up the
notes on the call.”

A pair of cornflower-blue eyes with amusement dancing in their
depths, hit him with a look that said, “I know your play and I’ve got one to
match it.” “Record the call and I’ll transcribe it in full tonight. It will be
more accurate that way, especially as I’m a bit light-headed from lack of food.
I’d hate to miss something important.”

Kathleen passed the platter of pastries. “Good idea. It’s all
settled then.”

“Finn, I booked the call for the office phone, and it’s almost
four.” Annika raised a cup of coffee in a salute to the fictitious conference
call.

Finn swallowed a string of oaths, not quite able to believe
he’d let himself be out-maneuvered. He took in a deep breath and regrouped.
Giving Annika a lazy smile—the one he knew made her back into doorways and bump
into kitchen counters—he said, “I don’t know what I’d do without your
efficiency, Legs.”

Her pupils widened at the use of her nickname.

If Annika wanted to play games then it was officially “game
on.” Only next time he’d reach the end zone.

* * *

Annika blew into the air mattress for the umpteenth time
and silver spots sparkled in her vision, making her feel extremely dizzy.
Jamming the plug into the half-inflated bed, she lamented that she hadn’t spent
the extra money on a pump.

After a very pleasant hour with Finn’s mom, who was a
fascinating woman with eclectic tastes and interests, and hearing all about her
current passion, which was supporting a community outreach program of the Art
Institute, Annika had used the kayak to get herself over to the island. The
Callahans had every conceivable water toy from human-powered row boats and
stand-up paddleboards, to fuel powered Jet Skis and motorboats. Without a
moment’s hesitation, she’d taken advantage of their wide collection of vessels
to stay one step ahead of Finn. She didn’t feel one shred of guilt at not having
gone back to the office after her visit with Kathleen because she knew there was
no post-conference call transcript to be typed. It had all been a ruse to get
her naked.

A shiver of desire she couldn’t quite squash added to her
light-headedness and she sucked in another breath, firming up her crumbling
resolve. The reason she’d come direct to the island was so she could have her
camp bed all set up before Finn got back to the cabin. It would make the
statement of “this is how things need to play out,” and back up her words that
sex was a bad idea.

Heavy footsteps suddenly pounded up the wooden veranda stairs
in a very un-ninja fashion, and the screen door slammed loudly. Still clutching
the half-inflated mattress, she scrambled to her feet. Finn stopped just inside
the door, his curls in delicious disarray, having been blown by the wind into a
sexy, rumpled look. He leaned casually against the doorjamb, crossing his arms
over his chest, which sent his biceps bulging against the soft material of his
shirtsleeves.

She immediately imagined him shirtless and dropped the edge of
the air mattress. “You’re back early.”

Dimples swirled deep into his cheeks and he gave her a long,
seductive smile that reached all the way to his eyes. Eyes which roamed lazily
over her, taking their own sweet gazing time, and sparking off a thrill of
tingles from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

“Early for what?” He pushed off the doorjamb with confident
ease and walked toward her. She could almost smell his intent and a quiver of
lust coiled deep. She didn’t fear him one little bit but so help her, she feared
herself.

He cocked one brow. “Did you have plans that included me?”

Somehow she managed to stop a breathy “yes” rolling off her
lips by shaking her head and jerkily flipping out the sleeping bag. “No. I was
just getting organized here.”

His jet-black gaze took in the camp bed and he poked the
mattress derisively with his foot. “So I see, but you’re not going to be very
comfortable with it like this.” He scooped up the mattress, sucked in a deep
breath and started to puff air into it.

She stared and blinked as surprise thundered through her.

She’d been expecting an Irish bellow, similar to the one he’d
leveled at her when she’d told him she was planning on sleeping at the
warehouse. The sex fiend deep within her pouted that he hadn’t scooped her over
his shoulder and deposited her on his bed, but the sensible part of her was
thankful he was respecting her wishes. Needing to do something so she wasn’t
tempted to watch him at work, she zippered together her sleeping bag.

Finn plugged the mattress and put it back on the floor. “Man,
that’s hot work.” He whipped off his polo shirt, dropped it onto a chair and
then lay down on her mattress. “This feels about right.” He patted the space
next to him and grinned up at her. “But as you’re the one sleeping here, you
should check it out for yourself.”

Her gaze immediately shot down to his bare chest and lingered
on the smattering of hair at the base of his toned abdominal muscles. Black hair
that trailed tantalizingly downward before disappearing under the band of his
shorts. Lying down next to him was a shortcut to insanity and she wasn’t playing
that game. She tilted her head and put her finger against her chin, as if deep
in thought.

“The thing is, you’re heavier than me so you’re dispersing more
air. To know if it’s inflated enough for me, I really need to test it out by
myself.”

He raised his arms behind his head and matched her thoughtful
gaze with one of his own. “Well at least I know it works for me.”

“You won’t be using it.”

“So if I offered you use of the bed in exchange for me sleeping
on this air mattress you’d refuse?”

She remembered how comfortable his cushion-top mattress was,
and the luxurious feel of his high thread count cotton sheets.

Don’t
forget
how
amazing
it
felt
to
be
cuddling
him
.

I
am
so
forgetting
that
!

“It would depend on the deal.”

He rolled off the mattress, rose to his feet and stood so close
she could smell the peppermint scent of his hair. He stared down at her. “No
deal, just a direct exchange.”

She couldn’t read him, which worried her because it meant she
couldn’t work out his game. “That would be the
exclusive
use of the bed. If your air mattress springs a leak,
you’re still on the floor.”

“Absolutely. You’re the guest and you get the bed.”

Generosity infused his words, making her feel small that she’d
doubted his motives.

He spun away from her saying, “Change the sheets while I have a
shower,” and then he disappeared into the bathroom.

The bathroom was located directly off the bedroom, and there
was no way she was spending any time in there while he was naked in the bathroom
with only a thin wall between them. Even out here in the main living area she
could hear the water from the shower and her sex-starved self immediately went
into visual overload, streaming images of tall, dark, toned and indecently
gorgeous men.

She turned the radio on loudly, not caring what was on as long
as it drowned out the sounds of the shower.
Let’s
talk
about
sex
,
baby
, screeched
through the static. With a lunge of sheer frustration she pulled the plug and
started singing, “la, la, la” to herself.

She’d make supper. The idea burst into her frazzled and melting
mind and she leaped on it.

Marching to the fridge, she opened it to see if Finn had kept
his promise to shop. He had and it was groaning with food. She diced and
chopped, happy to have a task, and arranged a garden salad and marinated chicken
in soy sauce and honey in preparation for the grill. As she worked she sang
through her limited repertoire of show tunes and Sunday-school hymns.

She heard the creak of a door opening and Finn walked out with
wet hair—his curls momentarily flat but shedding water fast, which dripped down
across his shoulders. He held an armful of dirty laundry. It took Annika a
second to realize that the only item of material on his body between his head
and his feet was a bath sheet tied low around his hips. The knife she held
clattered loudly onto the counter.

He glanced in her direction, his expression obliging. “I’m
putting a load on. Do you have anything?”

She picked up the knife again and kept her gaze on the onions,
hoping she didn’t dice off a finger. “No, thanks.”

“Okay.” He ambled off to the laundry and returned a few minutes
later with empty arms.

Even though she’d known he’d probably still be shirtless and
had prepared herself, she somehow managed to knock over the bottle of soy sauce,
sending the contents spilling across the counter. Furious with herself, and
cross with him, she fixed him with a glare. “Don’t you feel debased by resorting
to peacocking?”

He grinned. “Not at all. Especially when I know it gives you so
much pleasure.”

She picked up a cloth and started to mop up the mess. “I’ve
hardly noticed.”

His laugh was like the deep, rich notes of the bassoon and
stroked her like velvet. “Sweetheart, you’ve noticed. One dropped air mattress,
one dropped knife and now there’s a river of soy sauce heading toward the floor.
And let’s not forget this morning when you fell out of bed and walked into the
doorway. There’s so much sexual tension sizzling between us, you’ve become an
occupational health and safety hazard to yourself.”

And damn it, it was all true. She dropped the cloth in the sink
and marched over to the chair where his discarded shirt lay. Her fingers wound
it into a ball and she threw it at him. “If you’re so worried about me hurting
myself then put on some damn clothes.”

He flicked the shirt out so it wrapped around her waist and
then pulled her gently toward him. “And where would be the fun in that?”

He smelled of soap, shampoo and the promise of wonder.

“This isn’t fun for me, Finn. This is torture.”

He dropped his head so his lips were next to her ear, and his
breath and his words stroked her. “But it’s torture of the best kind,
right?”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “No.” She put her hands on
his forearms and leaned back. “Last night, I made a big mistake, Finn. I wanted
to kiss you but it got out of control way too fast and I’m telling you, it’s not
going any further. I refuse to become the cliché of the P.A. who sleeps with her
boss. Her very rich boss.”

Intelligent eyes studied her. “So this buyer’s remorse of yours
is to do with ethics?”

“Yes.”

“Then quit.”

Oh that she could. “You know I need the money.”

“Fair point.” His fingers played with her hair. “Have you ever
slept with your boss before?”

“No.” The word shot out on stream of indignation with a lust
chaser.

His gaze burned into her. “Would it help if I told you I’ve
never slept with any of my P.A.s, or any other members of my staff for similar
ethical reasons?”

“Little bit.” The words came out on a breath as his fingers
caressed her cheeks. Her knees sagged.

“So really, both of us are in a difficult situation.”

“Difficult.” Her lips could hardly frame words.

His fingers dipped into the hollow of her throat, fondling her
skin in ever-decreasing circles. “What if AKP was to subcontract directly to
Annika’s Custom Calligraphy with the express purpose of managing the warehouses
and to provide a P.A. to the Kylemore office for the summer?”

Miraculously, there was still one tiny part of her brain that
was free of desire-fuelled haze, and she could see exactly where he was going
with this. She’d be her
own
boss. “My fee’s pretty
steep.”

“I pay industry rates.” He matter-of-factly named a figure.

She was glad she was gripping his arms or she would have fallen
at his feet. She tried to look businesslike and composed when she was feeling
the exact opposite. “Is that number the truth, Finn, or are you just trying to
get me into bed?”

His mouth flattened and a serious look entered his eyes. “By
now you should know that the truth is very important to me, and I
never
joke about business.”

She recalled their first misguided twenty-four hours and how
he’d conducted himself ever since. She should have realized the figure was
accurate. “You’re right. I do know that about you.”

His serious expression lingered. “This agreement’s just for the
summer, Annika. Come Labor Day, Sean’s back in command and I’m back in Chicago
or Mexico.”

Just
for
the
summer
. The words were clear, concise and completely
ambiguity-free. A definite end date—that worked for her. This thing between them
was all about a summer of sex and given recent events in her life, she deserved
some no-strings fun. “Annika’s Custom Calligraphy accepts.”

“Good.” His normally smooth voice was suddenly raspy. “Can we
shake on it now and draw up the paperwork tomorrow?”

As much as it would be fun to watch Finn’s expression if she
said “no,” saying that would only mean she’d suffer too and her body was already
aching so hard for him that it hurt. A random thought exploded in her mind and
she bit her knuckle. She’d been so determined not to have sex with him that she
hadn’t gone to the drug store. “Do you have condoms?”