Slightly Irregular (5 page)

“Sure.”

“It’s like the only room without plastic.”

“That’s good,” I said as I followed her up the plushly carpeted staircase. In complete juxtaposition to the living room, the artwork on the wall was French Impressionist, yet somehow it worked with the stark furnishings.

“Good God,” I muttered, before I could check my reaction.

“Tell me about it,” Izzy said on a groan. The room was Pepto-Bismol pink, dominated by a bed that was a replica of Cinderella’s glass coach. The dressers and end tables were bright white, and my eyes immediately homed in on the framed photograph on the left nightstand. It was Tony and a stunning woman who looked a lot like a young Sophia Loren holding an infant.

“That’s the shrine,” Izzy said.

I moved closer. “Your mother was beautiful.”

“I guess,” she said, with a shrug of her shoulders. “At least it got scaled back when we moved here. In New York my grandparents made me a whole thing, complete with a rosary, a candle, and a crucifix made out of resin.”

“I’m sure they meant well.”

Izzy hopped into the bed-slash-coach, slipping beneath the pink fuzzy spread. “Yeah. They used to spend hours telling me
all about her. Dad said I had to listen, or at least pretend to. Liam told me to nod every now and then, and when I’d had enough, I was supposed to tell them I had a thing and leave the room.”

“Liam is big on
the thing
,” I said, my irritation with him coming back full force. “How long have you known him?” I asked, hoping I sounded casual.

“You hot for him or my dad?”

Hope dashed. “Neither.”

“That’s like a total lie.” She raked her hair with her fingers, each nail painted a different shade of neon polish. “Liam and Dad met when Dad taught classes at Quantico. Liam took the classes, and the two of them became friends. Liam would visit us in New York. I think they bonded over the whole wife thing.”

“Liam’s wife is alive.”
And probably draped over him as we speak
.

“I know. But he was getting a divorce then, so he and my dad used to drink beer and pretend everything was okay.”

“What’d you do, eavesdrop?”

“Totally. I was like eight or nine, and I thought Liam was hot. Even if he is old.”

“Thirty-seven is hardly old.”

“To you,” she said as she grabbed the book next to her bed.

“Want me to read to you?”

Izzy rolled her eyes. “I’ve been reading since I was like four.”

“Excuse me. I’m a tad out of practice at this whole babysitting thing.”

“It shows.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of a snot?”

She shrugged. “We all have to have a skill.”

“On that note,” I began, as I backed toward the door, “I’ll leave you to read.”

Her expression suddenly grew somber. “Will you come back?”

“I’ll come up in a little while to check on you.”

“Not tonight,” she said with a tinge of a whine. “I mean come back again. Maybe the night of the dance, to help me with makeup and stuff?”

“Sure,” I replied, totally taken in by the pleading look in her eyes.

I was almost out the door when she added, “I had a good time tonight, Finley.”

I surprised myself with my own response. “Me, too.”

As I descended to the first floor, I headed straight for the galley kitchen. Lots of stainless steel, and, judging by the lack of fingerprints, Tony had a damned good maid. I checked the time on the microwave: 12:17.

Tony had one of those one-cup-at-a-time coffeemakers that drew me in like a magnet. My caffeine level was dangerously low, and I needed a fix.

It took less than a minute for the mug to fill with strong, aromatic coffee. I was in my element. Well, except for the fact that I’d missed the end of an eBay auction I’d been nursing for eight days.

Coffee in hand, I went to the computer and silently prayed that even though I’d been inattentive, the Rolex watch face would be mine. My heart rate increased as I logged in with one hand while lifting the cup to my mouth. I still needed about
seventeen more links and other assorted parts for my build-it-from-scratch Rolex project. Reaching my by-age-thirty-five goal was important to me. Even if I conned Vain Victor Dane, managing partner and all-around pain in my ass, into raising my salary, I still couldn’t swing the thirteen thousand I’d need for the pink oyster-face watch.

An unpleasant image popped into my head. In the not-so-distant past, my cheating, former boyfriend Patrick had offered me the watch as a make-up gift. Like I’d ever forgive that sniveling weasel. Still, I was kicking myself for not taking the watch, then slamming the door in his face.

“Damn,” I mumbled as I checked my account only to find that I’d been outbid on the watch face by a mere fifty cents. TimeBandit had bested me again. This wasn’t the first time we’d gone head-to-head over a Rolex part, nor was it the first time he/she’d beaten me in the process.

I spent a few minutes searching new listings, stopping only to make another cup of coffee and to check the time: 1:05 a.m. The new vision in my head soured my already pissy mood. It didn’t take two-plus hours to get back from the Kravis, so safe money said Tony was getting lucky.

I barely remembered the last time I’d had sex. I’d had a couple of near misses with Liam, but something always seemed to prevent us from consummating our complicated, frustrating, nonsensical relationship. Not that we had an actual relationship. No, it was more like mutual lust. Which was fine with me. Liam was not The Guy. In my twenty-nine years I’d finally learned that you can’t fix a guy’s faults by loving him. Hell, you can’t fix a guy period. Nor, as it turns out,
can you trust them. Two years wasted on Patrick proved that much. The next time I met a guy, I was running a full background check.

The sound of the door opening gave me a jolt. Enough of one that I sloshed coffee down the front of my brand-new Azria dress. It made the jersey fabric cling to my body, outlining my boobs. Great, just great.

Grabbing my pashmina, I quickly covered myself and used the edge of the fabric to dab up the few drops of coffee on the computer desk.

“Hi,” Tony said, his bow tie untied, top button undone, and hair mussed. He might as well be wearing a sign that said
JUST GOT LAID
. “Sorry I’m so late.”

“Not a problem.”

“How did it go?” he asked as his cologne tickled my senses.

“Great.”
As you’ll find out when you get the Visa bill.
“Izzy is an amazing kid.”

I got the dimple smile. Dimple smile plus mussed hair was a powerful combo. Right now it made me feel like a fool. I slipped on my shoes before I did something stupid like jump into his arms and offer to be his second conquest of the night.

“Sorry I was so late.”

“Really, it was no problem,” I lied, grabbing my clutch.

Tony reached in the front pocket of his pants and pulled out a small collection of bills. “Is ten an hour enough?”

“Enough for what?”

“Your time.”

Lord knew I needed the money but not as much as I needed my dignity. Besides, if I made this a freebie, he owed me. It’s
always good to have a man in your debt. “Don’t be silly. I’m not taking your money.”

“I’m not comfortable taking advantage of you. Especially not when I inconvenienced you on such short notice.”

“No inconvenience,” I insisted. “Happy to help.” I was impressed that I’d made that sound so sincere. There was an awkward silence before I added, “I’d better be on my way. I have a brunch tomorrow.”

“You have quite the social schedule,” he remarked as I moved to pass him in the hallway leading to the door.

Almost reflexively he pulled my pashmina up on my shoulder. The feel of his hand brushing my skin was enough to cause a jolt through my whole system. It was definitely time to make a speedy exit. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Thanks, Finley.”

“You’re welcome.”

My shoulder still tingled as I slipped behind the wheel of my car. I toyed with the idea of stopping off at the Circle K for another cup of coffee, but my desire to get home won out. A decision I regretted when I turned into my drive and saw the battered Mustang parked in front of my cottage.

Liam sat perched on the step with a bottle of beer in his right hand. A surge of renewed irritation had me fantasizing about running over his feet, but I knew better.

After parking, I stepped from the car and made sure my face conveyed my feelings about babysitting and board games.

“Nice dress,” he commented, then rose to his full height of six-three while his eyes ran up and down my body like a caress.

“Thanks. You can leave now.”

He grinned, the sparkle of amusement visible in the slice of illumination from my porch light. “Not very hospitable of you.”

“It’s late. I’m tired, and you’re annoying.”

“And you suck at Scrabble.”

How did he know these things?

“Izzy sent me a text,” he said, as if reading my thoughts.

That explained why her cell phone was never out of arm’s reach.

“Yes, I do,” I agreed. I carefully sidestepped him as I dug out my house keys.

“So how was babysitting? Hope Tony paid you enough to cover the cost of that new getup.”

Getup?
A two-thousand-dollar head-to-toe makeover was not a
getup
. And how did he know it was new? I shook my head slightly, clearing away the thought. “I enjoyed myself.” As I said the words I realized I’d meant them. But that still didn’t get me past my anger over Liam turning me into a modern-day Mary Poppins. “Thanks for the referral.” I’d make him pay later. Right now I just wanted to get inside. “Why are you here?”

“Just making sure you got home safely.”

“I’m safe, so your job here is done. Don’t you have a
thing
you can go to?”

“Yeah. I thought I’d come in for a drink.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re sexy as hell when you’re angry?”

“Not lately. Go home, Liam.”

He reached out and gently closed his hand around my arm. I had no choice but to tilt my head back so our eyes locked. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice deep, sensual, and way too inviting.

Hesitation was my downfall. Liam noticed it, so there was no point in pretending that, in spite of my better judgment, I was immune to his charms. “One drink,” I said, more for my own benefit.

“That’s all I’m asking for.”

We went inside, and even though the contractor had arranged the space to give the illusion of grandeur, Liam’s presence made it seem small and close.

“Beer, or are you going to make some girly drink?” he asked, offering a beer in my direction.

“Beer is fine,” I said as I placed my purse and pashmina on the countertop.

Liam had been in my house for less than a minute and already the temperature seemed to be soaring. Maybe if I put some physical distance between us …?

As I started to move away, he slid his hand around my waist and kept me close. Taking the bottle from me, he placed it next to his and took a half step forward. I should have put a stop to things right then and there but that was easier said than done.

My senses were overwhelmed. I felt the heat emanating from his body. Smelled the familiar scent of his cologne. Looked up into those hooded blue eyes. Everything came together, making my knees threaten to buckle under me.

When I felt his fingers splay at the small of my back, an urgent shiver danced along my spine. My stomach filled with warmth until it knotted with need.

Liam lifted his free hand and cupped my cheek. His palm was slightly callused, amplifying the sensation. I was drowning in a pool of desire. What few brain cells were still working insisted
I put an end to this, but they were easily shouted down by the pure sensuality I read in his eyes.

What would it hurt? My brain reasoned. We were two healthy, consenting adults. Hooking up was perfectly normal.

His hand slipped lower, gently moving my hair away so his hand rested against my neck.

“Your pulse is racing,” he said, his voice deeper and sexy as hell.

“That tends to happen when a man is about to kiss me.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“To kiss you.”

“I’m standing here, aren’t I?”

“Not the same thing.” His fingers began making maddening circles as just the tips slipped beneath my dress, toying with the hollow just above my collarbone.

My whole body tensed with anticipation. “Kiss me.”

There’s a kiss, and then there’s a
kiss
. Liam’s lips brushed mine as he pulled me hard against him. I felt the hardness of thighs, his rippled muscles, and the broadness of his chest. Like a person about to fall off a ten-story building, I reached up and looped my arms around his neck.

As if acting of their own volition, my fingers couldn’t resist raking through his thick, black hair. Liam deepened the kiss, urging my lips apart and teasing them with his tongue. I was a pliant and willing participant. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to feel him. Skin against skin.

Lost in the magic of his mouth on mine, I slid my hands over his shoulders and began working on the top button of his
shirt. My hands were shaking, making it difficult to complete the rudimentary task. Finally, I managed to get it done and wasted no time slipping my fingers inside to feel the soft mat of hair. I could feel his heart pounding against his chest, and the knowledge that he was as turned on as I was made me feel powerful. And bold.

I quickly undid the other buttons and ran my hands all over his torso and back. Liam groaned against my lips as his fingers found my zipper.

Achingly slowly, he pulled the tab. I felt cool air against my overheated skin. My dress slid to the floor.

Liam lifted his mouth from mine and began trailing hot kisses over my neck and down to where lace met skin. He slipped a finger beneath my bra strap, and I saw flashes of light swaying on the wall.

It took my sex-starved brain a few seconds to realize I wasn’t seeing flashes of ecstasy but rather the reflection of a flashlight’s beam from the beach.