High Seduction (6 page)

What a mixed-up conundrum she faced. Torn between fresh emotions and a fearful mix of old ones.

She didn't know which way to turn, and the literally steaming-hot man sitting on the pool edge seemed determined to give her far too many options that led to only one destination.

* * *

Tripp headed out with a comment about picking his partner up from work. Anders left the pool soon after, covering a yawn and offering to get together soon, no matter what Marcus decided about Tim joining the Lifeline team.

Erin . . . hovered. As if she wanted to go home, and wanted to stay, and both desires were so evenly balanced she'd gotten stuck in limbo.

They moved into the cooler section of the pool, thoroughly heated by the past hour. The colder water around them was still a perfect contrast to the air temperature, and they found a place on the gentle slope of the concrete beach where they could enjoy both the water and air.

He rolled to his side and let himself admire her all over again, the one-piece swimsuit she wore clinging just right and offering a more seductive view than if she'd been naked. Nearly.

Erin lifted her head off her arms and damn near growled. “Do you have to do that?” she whispered.

“Do what?” He stroked her with the words, tempted to stroke her with his fingertips as well, but knowing it was too early.

She narrowed her gaze. “Don't play coy, it doesn't suit you.”

“What does suit me, kitten?” he asked. “Or shall I tell you what I'd like to be doing instead of simply admiring you?”

She opened her mouth, anger or frustration rising once again.

He spoke quickly to finish his thoughts before she could lambast him. “Your flying is the best I've ever seen, and you've sculpted your body into a strong tool for your job. You've done well over the years. I'm happy to see it.”

His final words took the wind out of her blustering sails, her lips twitching into a smile. “You haven't changed much yourself. Still able to charm the savage breast, and win all people to your side.” She grinned hard for a moment. “Tripp has a boyfriend, by the way. So don't get your hopes up.”

Minx. “He told me on the drive over to the pool. I wasn't planning on seducing him, just enjoying the man's skilled touch. That is possible without wanting to become lovers.”

She pulled in a ragged breath, her dark eyes glittering as she fought to match his gaze. “Pleasure without emotional attachment.”

“Oh, I'm very emotionally attached already,” Tim insisted, knowing that they weren't talking about the man at all anymore. “Physical and mental and emotional connections are always mixed up, kitten. You can't have one without the others, or it's like masturbation. Even the best private session is missing something vital.”

Another crack appeared in her untouchable façade as a smile escaped. “What is it with you and talking about jerking off? I remember you doing that at the worst possible times, as if you were trying to see who you could freak out.”

“And if I remember correctly, you always laughed. Said you didn't mind if a few uptight eavesdropping cranks got a bit of the stuffing knocked out of them.”

She nodded slowly, glancing to see who was near this time, but the closest person was out of earshot. Erin rolled to her side, her lean body only inches away.

When she spoke it was in a low, husky voice that scraped his spine as if she'd applied her fingernails to his skin. “And are you trying to knock some stuffing around?”

“Just saying that emotion doesn't have to be all or nothing. I got to see Tripp in action today. I talked to people who admire him, and I've formed an opinion, which is I like the man. I don't want to fuck him, but I'd go out of my way to make him smile.”

His blandly spoken honesty drew out a snort of laughter. “Like I said, you haven't changed.”

He made an instant decision and shifted closer, connecting their bodies at the hip and shoulder, daring her to move away. There was nothing intrinsically intimate about the gentle brushing of bare skin.

Far, far too intimate at the same time.

“That's where you're wrong. I have changed, a hell of a lot. I'm here to prove that to you.”

She took a quick breath in, a pulse beat visible at the base of her throat. “I thought you were here for a job.”

It might be too soon, but part of having grown up meant he was not going to lie, not even by omission. “That as well, but I'm really here for you. I want you back, Erin, and I'm willing to work for it.”

Between them the water rippled as a family swam past, the small waves cresting over her skin and his where they lay side by side. A minor tremour, miles apart from the tsunami of passion that could flood over them soon if he had his way.

Erin lifted her gaze to meet his. Stared silently for a good sixty seconds. Nothing but the gurgle of the pool gutters and low voices.

His breathing.

Hers.

She rolled toward him, increasing the contact points between them. His arm rested between her breasts, her knee slightly over his thigh, and he tensed. She was solid muscle and soft skin. A combination of strength and feminine beauty that he could hardly wait to experience all over again.

“You're awfully confident. What if I don't want you back? What if I told you that while you're a part of my past, I don't want you in my future?”

“Not even as a co-worker?”

She trickled her fingers over his chest and he held his breath, fascinated by this new side of her. Bolder, more determined. He loved it, and wondered how long she'd hold that stance.

Erin tilted her head as she dribbled water over his skin. “I could work with you. You are talented, and the team could use you.”

“I have talents in other areas as well,” he teased.

“So do Devon and Alisha, but I don't sleep with them.”

“Touché.” He crossed his arms under his head, tightening his abdomen as she continued to drive him mad. “So you won't sleep with me. I can handle that. Until you ask.”

She snapped her fingertips against his stomach, the tiny blow stinging on the wet, bare skin. “You're such an ass.”

“You just earned a spanking,” he warned.

A low laugh escaped her. “See? There's that old Timothy I knew so well. The new Tim, if he's changed, wouldn't try to dole out punishments I haven't agreed I want to earn.”

He set his teeth to stop from growling as those damn fingers went lower, teasing the top line of his swim trunks. He bent a knee to hide his rising erection because her touch was setting him on fire.

“So, let me get this straight.” Erin leaned all the way over, folding her hands on his chest and resting her chin on top. “You think you've changed enough that you'd agree to fool around with me at my speed, within my limits. You won't attempt to steer us toward something stupid like what happened years ago.”

“I apologized for that at the time,” Tim pointed out. “While it was wrong, it was also a misunderstanding, and I knew it as soon as it happened. We both did.”

“And now?”

He walked that fine line between the complete truth and what she needed to hear for them to move forward. “I will go at your pace,” he promised.

Nothing mentioned regarding how far they would eventually go, or what type of pleasures, because while he'd allow her to dictate how fast they moved forward, they both knew they weren't talking about chaste kisses and hand-holding.

She stared into space as she considered his offer.

Did she have any idea she was still stroking him? The repetitive brushing of her fingertips sent flickers of electric desire over his skin, offering a taste of the heat to come.

Erin sat up suddenly, shivering for a moment in the icy air. “If this thing between us gets . . . awkward, I want you to leave.”

He blinked in surprise. “What?”

“I have a good thing here, Tim. With Lifeline. With my friends, and my home. I'm happily established. If things don't work out, I'm not the one going wheels up this time.”

“You're playing hardball.”

“Damn right, I am. I think I deserve that assurance after the crap you pulled years ago.” Erin adjusted herself until her shoulders were submerged again, her chin raised high. Determination in her expression.

Tim loved it. He didn't want a woman who would cave in and let him run roughshod over her, no matter what she'd mistakenly thought before. “You have yourself a deal.”

It didn't matter that she was back in the heated water, Erin's shoulders still shook briefly. He liked knowing he affected her that hard.

“I have a request of my own,” Tim added.

She raised a brow, the exquisite arch making her look positively edible. “And that would be?”

Tim flipped on the charm to flash his brightest smile. Turned up the accent and gave her a dose of his best Irish-slash-Newfoundland drawl. “Now, kitten, I'd be needing a ride home, if you would.”

She laughed, then impulsively swooped in and gave him a hug. Tight. Friendly. As nonsexual as the earlier pat on the back he'd received from Tripp. “You are one of a kind, Tim. One of a kind.”

CHAPTER
6

She took her time getting dressed, partly to mess with him, partly to consider exactly what she'd agreed to.

This was not a situation to go into without a game plan or she'd end up fucked, and not in the good way.

It was tempting to phone Alisha and beg for an intervention, but she refused to allow herself to lose control like that. She had been the one to accept his challenge. She could do this.

If their relationship stayed on the surface, there was no reason she couldn't slowly work them toward some hot, satisfying sex. The man used to play her like a Stradivarius violin. She could imagine he'd only gotten more talented in the years they'd been apart.

And frankly, she wanted to know if he was on the level. If he was going to ignore her wishes, whip out his dick and start shaking it like some mighty he-man ruler of them all, she wanted that to show up early in the game.

Before her heart got involved.

He was waiting for her outside the pool looking as if he belonged there. Leaning on a railing, his towel under an arm. Legs crossed at the ankle as he stared at the gondola tower on Sulfur Mountain and the mountain valley beyond. He'd tucked most of his dark hair under a knit ski cap, but the ends sticking out had already frozen in the cold temperatures.

She resisted touching one of the white frosted tufts, pointing instead toward the parking lot. “This way.”

“It's a beautiful place, Banff.” Tim took a deep breath as he paced by her side. “I miss the scent of the ocean, but that wind fresh from running over the glaciers is just this side of heaven.”

“I'm in love with the location,” Erin admitted. “The winters are clear and cold, but no matter how brutally frigid it gets, the crystal blue skies are enough of a reward to make me never want to give up living here.”

Tim settled into the car beside her. “Ever think about traveling the world like we'd talked about when we were young?”

Erin laughed briefly. “I'd forgotten that. No, I love traveling through Canada. A few places in the U.S. I still want to see, like the Grand Canyon and Joshua Tree, but there's so much here to explore. I can't imagine running out of places to play anytime soon.”

He hummed softly, staring out the window at the cliff face of Mount Rundle as they descended into town.

Things turned awkward for a moment on her part as she realized she'd used the phrase
places to play
. Those were not the memories she wanted to be resurrecting. She adjusted the car heaters to cover her gaffe before asking, “Where are you living?”

“Bear and Caribou.”

Erin whistled. “Sweet. Who'd you kill to get into one of those apartments?”

“Oh, did I end up in a coveted location?” He laughed. “I guess I was lucky, then. When I called, they said there was an opening, so I took advantage of it.”

“I'm in the fourteen hundred block. Less night life, more family houses.”

“I look forward to seeing your place sometime.”

His response was so ultra-polite Erin nearly laughed in his face. “Don't play too hard. I want to be in charge of how fast and how far we go, but I'm not looking for a pushover.”

“I'll be anything but,” Tim insisted. She pulled down the side street in front of his place, and he faced her. “I will listen to you, Erin. I promise.”

She swallowed hard, that final brush of fear throbbing like a warning signal before she slammed it aside and decided to take a chance. “Then show me your apartment.”

It was only a short walk from the car through the security doors of the complex. Erin avoided looking directly at Tim as they entered the elevator, the pristine gold and glass doors closing with a gentle
whoosh
.

The ride up was silent but for the loud beating of her heart.

He held out an elbow as the elevator opened, and she instinctively tucked her fingers around his biceps. The move was familiar and calming even after years apart. She needed a little calm after discovering he'd scored not only a unit in the best apartment complex in town, but one of the penthouse suites.

“The view isn't anything spectacular, not since Banff building code forbids anything higher than three storeys, but I like it,” Tim admitted, unlocking the door and gesturing her in.

The room sparkled, final afternoon sunshine streaming in the tall bank of windows on the western wall.

“How do you manage these things?” she asked Tim, pacing in to run her fingers over the back of the luxurious leather couch.

He dropped his gear by the hall closet, pausing in the middle of hanging up his jacket. “Manage what?”

Erin gestured around her. “You make a call and end up with a gorgeous suite, fully furnished as well, right?”

He nodded.

“You go for an interview at the ski hill and just happen to end up right where you need to be to become involved with Lifeline, impressing all my co-workers. It's as if you've got horseshoes up your ass.”

Tim stood before her, slipping her coat off her shoulders, his hands lingering on her arms. “I most certainly do not have anything of the sort up my . . . anywhere.”

So close. He stood so close that heat from his body brushed hers as they gazed at each other. His pupils were wide black circles in the blue, as if they were black suns set against the Alberta sky. He lifted a hand slowly until his knuckles caressed her cheek, a single, tantalizing stroke that was followed by him tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

He stepped away and Erin sucked for air, fighting to keep from gasping. He didn't need to know how quickly he could affect her. Although he was probably already aware.

Tim had moved to the kitchen, pulling out glasses and pouring them drinks as he spoke. “It was easier renting a furnished place than transporting my things all the way across Canada. I didn't have much in the first place, not since I've been working on the oil platform.”

All around them was glass and chrome. Bold wood features and soft expensive leather. The entire place screamed money. “It's beautiful.”

Tim offered her a glass. “It's comfortable, which is more important. Go ahead, look around if you'd like. I have a phone call to make.”

He left her, seating himself on the couch and pulling out his cell phone. Erin watched him for a moment, then took him at his word.

Earth-toned tiles underfoot gave way to deep brown wood planks in the first room off the hall. The neatly arranged office was followed by a guest bedroom. Sparse but tidy, it looked comfortable and completely generic, like most rental places. Nothing there to make it into a home.

The next room, however . . .

Erin stood in the doorway of the master bedroom and debated the wisdom of going in. The four-poster bed with its sturdy log pillars at the corners was visible from where she stood, and that sight alone was enough to set her heart pounding. A thick quilt in a deep crimson lay on its surface, pillows at the head of the mattress.

Curiosity overtook her, and even though it was wrong, she did it anyway—crossed the room to stand beside the massive king-sized mattress. She trickled her fingers over the soft quilt, the material cool to the touch—the kind of fabric that would heat perfectly against naked skin.

She wrapped a hand around the nearest post, her fingers unable to meet around the thick support. Her breathing picked up as she squatted, ran a hand down the wood, and grasped the edge of the quilt. She lifted it out of the way to reveal large metal circles discreetly attached to the lower part of the corner posts, barely visible under the edge of the hanging quilt.

Her rapid heart rate skipped a beat. This room was definitely more set up for Tim's tastes than the guest room.

She ignored the warning signals going off in her brain and chose to walk to the window. Here on the opposite side of the house she'd expected to see the back alley below, or the windows of the opposite apartment house. Instead she discovered a small courtyard, glowing lights in strategic positions to showcase a snow-clad bench and statuary.

Erin moved to the left, away from the bed and into the bathroom, still fascinated by the mysterious parklike area outside on the rooftop. In the summer it probably held flowerbeds, or a fountain. Now in the dead of winter the snow created sculptures of its own by decorating the small fir trees and railings with pillow tops of white. The surfaces transformed into fairy-tale-like structures topped by mushroom-shaped caps.

In the distance, Tim continued to talk—a low buzz that eased her fears of being watched as she explored. She turned to stare into decadence. Soaker tub, double-sized shower. A sink counter long enough to sleep on. More mirrors than was decent—anyone tempted to have sex in the enormous shower would end up reflected multiple times.

Erin escaped the room before her mind provided images of Tim's fairer skin contrasting with her own darker tones, both of them slick and wet and . . .

There was a smaller laundry room and storage space to finish the tour, distracting enough to pull herself from the X-rated thoughts she'd begun to follow. A more serious question struck her.

How could he afford the suite on a paramedic's salary?

Erin returned to the living room just as Tim placed his phone on the coffee table and rose to his feet. The sun had dipped behind the mountain while she'd been gone, and sunset light transformed the place into a mess of red, orange, and gold.

“You like it?” he asked, moving to her side.

“Incredible. It's very comfortable.”

Tim dipped his head. “You're welcome any time.”

The urge to accept his offer right here and now was far too tempting, which was why she had to take a different route. She avoided his eyes, just in case he managed to sidetrack her. “Thanks. I should go.”

The expectation remained—he would ask her to join him for supper, or for another drink, or something. After pushing so hard to start things up between them, there was no way he'd simply allow her to walk away.

Only he nodded and opened the closet. “I hope I hear something from Marcus in the next couple days, but if not, perhaps I'll see you soon.”

He helped her on with her coat, his hands restrained. He didn't touch any more than necessary, not pushing the connection between them, and Erin kicked her own ass for feeling a touch of disappointment.

She'd asked for this. Asked to be in charge. Was she really going to complain when he gave her what she wanted?
Bullshit.

He accompanied her down the elevator, making small talk about restaurants she suggested. Polite. Generic. They paused at the front door of the apartment house, Erin wavering in what to do next. She'd had this all figured out that morning, but some time in the past twelve hours the world had changed.

Tim smiled, a soft expression with a hint of mischief in it.

“Thank you for a most interesting day.” He leaned in and kissed her. Lips gentle against hers. Warm body only inches away as his breath caressed her cheek. He pressed a business card into her hand, curling her fingers around it as he pulled back.

The fleeting connection hadn't nearly satisfied her craving. Erin struggled to speak, but nothing came out.

His eyes spoke volumes, as if he were reading her discomfort. “Call me,” he said.

And that was it. The brief kiss. A gentle touch to her cheek. Tim opened the main door and let her out. Erin returned to her car in a daze, a tingling ache in her gut, and lower.

Damn the man.

He'd given her exactly what she'd asked for. Why was she so pissed off at him?

* * *

His nerves were stretched taut as if balanced on the edge of a knife. Tim paced to the window, but Erin's taillights were long gone. The only thing left was the faint scent of her shampoo lingering on the air, haunting him.

She'd explored the suite thoroughly. He was glad of that, even though he'd had to damn near nail his ass to the couch to stop from crowding after her, especially when she slipped into his bedroom.

He wandered in there now, full of energy he had no way to release. Or at least not the way he wished. Being around Erin, learning the chance of them coming together again, had driven his need to the breaking point.

Which was why he'd mastered himself. Stepped back and, as promised, really listened.

Not just to her words, but her body. To the things that her gaze said as she examined him when she thought he wasn't looking. Erin had some definite ideas of how she wanted this to go—how they were going to be together.

He didn't want to make assumptions, didn't want to run slipshod over her desires, but there was a sensation of . . . untruth in her words when she said she didn't want him, that she wanted to limit their desires, or go slowly.

Not a deliberate lie, but one she wasn't even aware of telling to him, and to herself. There was something slightly off between her actions and what she'd stated was her goal, and damn if he wasn't eager to help her realize just how much more she wanted.