Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) (12 page)

For the next two hours, she was privy to exactly
what money could buy when you had money to burn. The experience
gave her a headache and she was thankful to get back home.

“It’s perfect, don’t you think?” Brad pulled up
before her apartment and shifted his Mercedes in park.

“Yes,” Nan said honestly. The house she’d just seen
with Brad had been perfect. With large picture windows and
thousands of square feet, the house was a marvel of upscale
architecture and design. The mini-mansion came completely furnished
from fine china in the kitchen to the linens on the antique beds.
So why did the house leave her feeling as if something very
important was missing?

“Experts put the whole package together. All I have
to do is move in.”

“It’s lovely, but doesn’t it bother you that you
won’t have things around that you’ve chosen?”

“Not at all. I wanted a perfect show place, besides
decorating is a waste of time. Only a man who chooses to spend his
time productively can make his mark in the world. That’s one thing
that impressed me about you. You have a reputation for being the
most disciplined and organized nurse in the hospital. They don’t
hand out the Lois Emerson Merit Award to just anybody and you’ve
managed to get it two years in a row. You know how to plan.”

Nan rubbed her temples a moment. She expected a man
like Brad to have certain expectations for a mate, just as she did,
but he sounded as if he’d come up with a list and was measuring her
up to it. “Do you think you can plan every detail of life?”

Brad’s eyes widened with surprise. “Of course. Don’t
you?”

Nan opened her mouth, ready to deny she’d ever
approach life with such cold calculation, and promptly shut it when
Jackson came roaring up to her apartment on a Harley. He parked
directly in front of Brad’s Mercedes. Nan's mouth watered. Jackson
was as smooth and addictive as melt in your mouth chocolate.

“What’s Weldon doing here?”

Unjustified guilt rushed up her cheeks. That Brad
took her to see a house he was buying clued her in that his
interest in her ran deeper than their relationship called for.

She had no doubt that the kisses she’d shared with
Jackson wouldn’t make it onto any of Brad’s approval lists.

In fact, kissing Jackson had to rank as one of the
ten top stupidest things she’d ever done on her own list. But her
lists were different from Brad's list. She wasn't as cold and
calculating as Brad seemed to be. Brad looked at her, waiting for
an explanation as to why Jackson was here.

“Uh, maybe he’s here about Alexi. She wasn’t feeling
too well at the hospital benefit. How do you know him?”

Brad didn’t answer her question as he exited the car
and came around to open her door. Offering a tense smile of thanks
to Brad, she walked over to Jackson

Brad was right behind her.

“Is Alexi all right?” Nan shouted over the
motorcycle’s rumbling engine. The deep sound vibrated through her
body. He wore jeans, black leather chaps, black boots, and a black
cotton Tee that had shrunk to a touch-me-tight fit.

Jackson slid off his helmet and ran his hands
through his wild black hair. Her fantasy of making love on his
Harley while wearing nothing but his black leather jacket came back
in spades. She frowned at the unwelcome flush of heat that being
this close to him on his Harley triggered and shouted her question
again. “Is Alexi okay?”

“Just left her and Jesse. She’s fine,” he said. A
frown of irritation crossed his brow. “Sorry to interrupt your hot
date. I came to get my sunglasses off the hall table. If the door
is unlocked, I’ll just grab them and be out of your way.”

“I’ll get them. They’re in the bedroom.” He killed
the engine just as she finished her sentence making her last word
ring through the air. A dead silence followed.

“Bedroom?” Brad said from just behind her. She could
see the question in Jackson’s devilishly amused gaze, and she could
hear the even bigger question in Brad’s surprised voice.

“I didn’t want Shakespeare to gnaw on them,” Nan
muttered.

“What?” said Brad.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jackson asked, amusement
fading.

“I’ll be right back.” Nan bit her tongue as she
turned around and rushed to her door. Though she dreaded leaving
them alone together, the thought of facing Brad that second was
worse. What was he thinking? How could she explain about Jackson’s
glasses being in her bedroom? Considering her fantasies, she had
little doubt what Freud would have said about the maneuver. Her
headache edged closer to a migraine as she fumbled with the
door.

Shakespeare
had
found them. He lay curled up on
her dresser with the glasses pinned beneath his paws. Nan quickly
snatched them and hurried back. The moment she stepped outside, the
world sort of faded before her eyes, and she had to grab the wall
to steady herself. A wave of dizziness swept through her. When her
vision cleared, she saw Jackson watching her, a serious expression
on his face.

“What’s wrong?” He took the sunglasses from her and
placed a steadying hand on her arm. “You look like you’re about to
pass out.”

“It’s nothing. I just got dizzy there for a
moment.”

“Like at the benefit?” His thumb brushed the inside
of her arm.

Nan brought her hand up to her head, escaping his
touch before he short-circuited her thought processes again. “Not
really. I have a headache. I shouldn’t have run.”

“Did you eat today?” He brushed her hair back from
her face. There was no way she could hide from his direct gaze.
“When was the last time you had a checkup? Do you have frequent
headaches?”

“Yes, I ate lunch. I’m not sure when my last checkup
was. And I suffered migraines as a teenager, but not since. I
probably need to relax and get a little fresh air.” She looked over
Jackson’s shoulder. “Where’s Brad?”

“Lover boy left for the hospital to the tune of his
cell phone.” Jackson placed a hand on each of her shoulders and
ushered her back inside her apartment, gently squeezing the muscles
at the base of her neck. “You’re tight as a banjo.”

He worked miracles on her neck for a few minutes,
then guided her to the big easy chair in her living room and pushed
her softly down into its pillowy depths. He stood in front of her
and resumed rubbing her shoulders, letting her head rest against
his stomach. Her plan to tell him they couldn’t see each other
wavered like a mirage before her eyes. She couldn’t quite grab hold
of it right then. His moves were so smooth it turned her blood to
liquid honey. He felt like heaven, and he smelled even better.

“So, did you have a date with Swanson?”

“Not really. He took me to see a house he’s
buying.”

Jackson’s hands on her neck stilled. “House?”

“Yes, in Garden Hills. He wanted me to see it.”

“Bet it’s just what you were looking for.”

Nan shrugged off his hands and stood. “What’s that
supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Jackson muttered.

“For your information, the house was perfect, but
I’d never buy it for myself. A house is something that should be a
home, a place for family to grow and a reflection of their lives.
When I buy a house, it won’t be a showplace. What about you?”

“I’m a renting man. No hassles.”

No commitment, Nan thought. He slid on his mirrored
sunglasses before she could read his expression. A big scratch
slashed across one lens and a tuft of cat fur was caught in the
nosepiece. Jackson sneezed.

He removed the glasses and glared at them for a long
moment, picking off the cat hair. “Sticky buns and sunglasses. Is
there anything your cat doesn’t eat?”

“Mice. I think the Tom and Jerry reruns he watched
as a kitten ruined him.”

Jackson shook his head. The next thing Nan would
probably say was that she had the cat in therapy. “Come on, let’s
get you some fresh air.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

He should be marching his booted feet out the door
without her, but for some damned reason he couldn’t seem to walk
away from her. Seeing her with Brad grated against Jackson’s bad
side. He wanted his kiss to be the last thing Nan thought about
before she went to sleep. He wanted his touch to be the one
lingering on her lush body. And what was Brad showing Nan a damned
house for? Garden Hills, no freaking less.

Nan slowed her step. “Where are we going?”

“Wherever the bike can take us. You can’t beat a
good ride for clearing your head.”

“But I’m wearing a skirt.”

Jackson turned and ran his gaze over her. She was
back to wearing her below the knee skirts and her preppy-crisp
shirts. The short, skin hugging dress she’d had on at the benefit
had been an aberration, but what about the black satin underwear?
The thought that she might just have it on started blood pooling
south of his belt.

Damn, the woman was driving him crazy. He knelt and
ran his hand up the smooth skin of her leg, taking the hem of her
skirt up too. He forced himself to stop before he reached the
object of his thoughts.

Nan gasped, but didn’t pull away and Jackson took
that as a good sign.

“It hikes up good so you shouldn’t have a problem.
Come on. You need to loosen up a bit.” He tugged her hand a little
more urgently this time. He had to get out of the apartment quick.
He wanted Nan to loosen up all right. He wanted her to be coming
apart in his hands several times over and that was just to start
with. Seeing her with Brad again had added urgency to his desire to
get naked and naughty with her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Winding down the highway with Nan’s bare thighs
hugging his, the feel of her breasts smashed against his back, and
her arms wrapped tightly about his chest did little to ease
Jackson’s urgent need to bed her. From the way she clung to him and
the tentative way she leaned into a curve, he could tell this was
her virgin ride. He could also tell that she liked it a lot.

Deciding to enjoy the moment, he put his nagging
thoughts aside and savored the feel of the bike and the woman. Over
the past few years he’d gotten better at letting everything go and
just feeling the moment. It’d been the only way he could
survive.

An hour later he pulled to a stop beneath the shady
arms of a gnarled oak tree skirting an empty stretch of beach. With
the moonlight and the waves to serenade them, the evening was prime
for seduction and he was more than read for a little sex on the
beach. Easing down the kick stand, he flexed his shoulders to rub
against Nan’s breasts and heard a soft gasp of excitement. Seven
minutes, he gauged. They’d be well on their way to heaven in seven
minutes.

Oh hell, Nan thought as her beach
fantasy from earlier came flooding back.
Just sex. Grab the moment
. She
wasn’t naked and oiled at the moment, but she was definitely hot
and bothered. Every part of her thrummed from the ride and the feel
of Jackson’s back rubbing her breasts. No, she told herself as she
sucked in the salty air. Forget that. It was just a
fantasy.

She forced herself the concentrate of the beautiful
tableau before her. Night had fallen and a cool spring breeze blew
lightly in from the ocean. A chorus of crickets and frogs joined
the luring music of the sea sweeping to the shore and moonbeams
danced upon the silver crests of waves.

The ride had been exhilarating and erotic. Her hair
had escaped its neat chignon to hand in a wild mass about her
shoulders and her breasts and body ached for more, as if the ride
had vibrated something loose inside her.

Sliding from the bike, Jackson helped her off then
leaned back against the seat to look out at the sea. "You like the
ocean?”

“Love it, though I can’t remember the last I stopped
to see it at night.” Nan turned to the ocean, welcoming the taste
of salt in the air and the cool breeze. She burned for his touch
and needed to get her mind on something besides having sex on the
beach. Beating back her hormones, she searched for some functioning
brain cells. “Uh, when did you start working construction?”

“I’ve done it on and off for a while. Last month,
the band decided to just do occasional performances, so I started
working for Jared and James more often.” Jackson put his hands on
her shoulders and started to softly massage them.

Another electric jolt sizzled through her. “Like
it?” she asked, only capable of forming two syllables.

“Hadn’t thought about it. It’s money for a while.
You like nursing?” He pulled her back, and she leaned against his
hard body, feeling the heat of him to her core.

“Um, yeah. Being able to uh, help people is great,
but, um, the staffing problems, uh, make the job needlessly
difficult.” She sounded as if her mind had gone kaput. Thankfully,
he stopped the sensual, rhythmic caresses on her shoulders and she
breathed with relief. But that only lasted a second before he spun
her around to face him.

The wind ruffled his dark hair like the hand of a
lover and the moonlight caressed the strong planes of his face,
playing shadows over the full curve of his lips and the cleft in
his chin. She tumbled headlong into her desire for him.

He brushed his lips over hers. “You should work less
and do a few things like this.”

She tried to save herself by talking. “I have a list
of fun things. I just haven’t gotten to them yet.”

“Nan, throw the damned list away and just do
it.”

Before she could respond, Jackson pulled her up
against him and started kissing her with the hottest need she’d
ever felt from a man. Every part of her that wasn’t already
throbbing from the ride tingled. She met him kiss for kiss.

The man was so smooth he slid inside a woman and
invaded her every pore. By the time they came up for air, she was
plastered against his side and his right hand cupped her left
breast, teasing her aroused nipple with the pad of his thumb.