One Real Man (Entangled Bliss) ) (10 page)

He curled one hand behind her neck, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her in. She let out a gasp, but before she could finish he lowered his head and brought his mouth down on hers. He wasn’t thinking, didn’t know what kiss he intended—gentle, passionate, punishing—and as soon as he tasted her lips any hope of plans flew out the window.

Her mouth was everything he’d dreamed of and more. Like sunshine and oxygen, he couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get near enough to her. Through his heat-seared mind came the startling thought—he was kissing Paige Kerrigan. Again. And this time he had experience, maturity, and a driving conviction that this kiss was meant to be.

For a few stunned moments Paige stood stock-still in his grasp, and then she began to respond to his caresses. At first it was the tiniest softening of her lips, then it was a quick little intake of air, followed by her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Her body relaxed into his, her neck curving up so he had better access to her mouth, her hands stealing up his chest to grip his shoulders. Paige clung to him and kissed him back with mad, fierce abandon. She was honey and spice, and when her tongue flicked against his, any remaining control he had disintegrated in the fire.

Using his weight, he nudged her backward until she was up against the wall. She didn’t seem to mind being coerced. When she gazed up at him, her eyes were heavy with drugged, saturated passion, and he knew he wore the same expression. Their breaths mingled, hot and moist, as their mouths met and parted and met again, all logic forgotten in the animal lust consuming them. Her lips were pink and softly bruised from his kisses, her hair tangled across her flushed skin, her body arched into his, connecting intimately with him. He’d never seen her so abandoned, and for a moment he simply stared at her, in awe of her wild beauty. This was the Paige he’d longed to uncover. He brushed his fingers across her cheek. Why did she hide this side of her from the world? Why couldn’t she always be this free and untamed? She must have sensed a change in his touch as her panting receded, and her back straightened.

“What?” she murmured.

Cursing himself for breaking the spell, he ran his hands over her shoulders and upper arms. “You said your arms were tired. I’m just helping you relax.” He kneaded her arms slowly.

Hesitation flickered across her face. She was thinking of pushing him away, he knew, so he took the initiative. Moving even closer, he placed his feet between hers, spreading her legs apart and pressing her against the wall. She could still push him away, but she didn’t.

“Why are you doing this?” she murmured.

“I told you. Your arms need a massage.”

“No, why are you kissing me?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I asked you first.”

“Okay. I couldn’t resist your sexy arse anymore.” He grinned down at her. The smoothness of her arms was getting to him. His hands itched to wander all over her, to explore all her secrets. “So what’s your excuse?”

She hesitated, chewing on her delicious lower lip. “I don’t know.” For a second she seemed totally confused. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes me act the way I do.”

“Maybe it’s
my
sexy arse.”

“Oh!” Her indignation quickly melted to wry amusement. “All right, I admit it. You are kinda…attractive.”

“Just kinda attractive?” Gliding his hands down her arms, he was rewarded by her telltale quiver and the sudden flash of heat in her eyes. “I hate to think how you’d kiss someone you thought was really hot.”

“O-okay, you’re definitely attractive.” She frowned at him.

“Hey, ease up before I get too cocky.”

“Don’t fish for compliments, then.”

As the flare in her eyes leaped higher, his banter dried up. Cupping her face between his hands, he murmured, “I’m done with talking,” before he kissed her again. Holding a smidgeon of self-control, he kissed her leisurely, reveling in every touch of her. Paige seemed to take her cue from him, her kisses slow and light, but soon the fire leaped, and their kisses grew heavy and hot. Within minutes his hands slipped under her T-shirt, and the sensation of her silky skin was a turbocharged shot to his libido.

He wanted her. Badly. Up against the wall, her body pinned against his, her hair streaming wild over her face. He could picture them together so clearly, could almost hear her ecstatic moans and his answering growls. The image burned in his brain, fueling his desire, smashing his control. He’d never wanted any woman the way he lusted after Paige. She was the goddess who ruled him, and all he craved was to lose himself in her.

He stripped off her T-shirt in one fierce movement. She gasped at him, clearly astonished. Creamy skin, delicate collarbones, soft mounds cupped in white lace, hourglass waist—the details of her beauty shook him, took his hunger to a whole new level. As he gulped in the sight, she grabbed hold of his shirt with both hands and ripped it open. Buttons flew off. Her eyes were wide as saucers, the excitement and craving in them mirroring his. His heart jumped as she trailed her hands down his torso like a fallen dieter caressing a chocolate fudge sundae, and when her fingers closed around the belt buckle of his jeans, his poor heart almost stopped.

Holy smoke. Paige Kerrigan wants me.

Everything in him yelled to reciprocate. His hands were clamped around her hips; all he had to do was reach for the zipper of her jeans. Her eyes, her hands, her body—everything about her cried “yes” to him. He could have her right now, right here, up against the wall as he’d fantasized just a minute ago. He could realize all the dirty dreams he’d ever had of her.

But some idiotic part of him took over. Grasping Paige’s hands, he gently lifted them from his belt buckle.

“Owen?” The puzzlement in her eyes almost tore him in two.

“I’m sorry.” He held on to her hands, didn’t want to let go. “I can’t do this.”

Her gaze flew down to where the bulge in his jeans gave the lie to his words. A roar of frustration built in him. Why couldn’t he just give her what they both wanted? Why did everything to do with Paige have to be so bloody complicated?

She pushed up her chin and stared him straight in the eye. “Not can’t. You mean you won’t.”

“I mean I…” Christ, what the hell did he mean? “I don’t want it this way.” Still holding her hands, he circled his thumbs over the backs of her hands, desperate for her to get his muddled reasoning.

“How do you want it, then? Dinner dates and flowers?” The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile devoid of any humor. “I’ve tried it that way and, believe me, it doesn’t end any differently from a quick screw against the wall.”

He winced. Words like that shouldn’t come out of the mouth he’d just been ravishing a moment ago. “You don’t know that for a fact.”

With an exasperated sigh she yanked free of him, picked up her T-shirt, and pulled it on, her movements sharp and jerky. “Look, Owen, I don’t know what you want.” She shook her hair back, her face darkening. “I’m not going to be here for much longer, and this—this crazy
thing
between us is driving me nuts. If you don’t want to go to bed with me, then fine, but don’t try to woo me or expect something more from me because—because I just can’t stand it! Do you hear me? I won’t be made a fool of again.”

The hurt and anger shaking her made him ache. If he could hold her and make love to her slowly and gently, maybe that would help her heal and make her see that she was special. But she didn’t want healing from him; she didn’t want
him
. All she wanted was to scratch an old itch.

He stepped away from her, the air suddenly cold. “I hear you.”

He left the cottage as fast as he could. All the way back to the house he wondered if he’d done the right thing. But if he’d followed his baser instincts, would he be any more satisfied? He didn’t want to take Paige up against a wall. He didn’t want their first time to be dirty, rough, and quick. But when he began fantasizing about what he truly wanted, he quickly censored his thoughts. If he let his imagination go wild, he’d be in much more dangerous territory.

…

The following afternoon, Paige had just finished applying the first coat of paint in the cottage when a small van showed up outside. The man who climbed out told her he’d been sent by Mr. Bellamy to install screens in all the windows and doors of the cottage. Paige allowed him in. The last thing she’d expected was for Owen to remember her phobia of moths and to do something about it. But any gratefulness she felt was diluted by her lingering resentment. She was still angry with him for the way he’d kissed her, led her on, and then rejected her. Angry and confused. Still, she wasn’t complaining about the screens. They’d allow her to sleep a lot easier. Now if only she could resolve her bigger problem of Owen Bellamy.

Chapter Seven

Jim McCarthy plowed across the field, his sturdy work boots crunching on the dirt. As he stopped near the creek, Owen caught up to him.

“So that’s where the bike trail will go? Alongside the creek?”

Owen nodded. “It’ll join up with the existing path running beside the country club and lead all the way into Burronga.”

“Good.” His business partner grunted his approval before peering past Owen’s shoulder. “Where’s that daughter of mine?”

“Right here, Dad.” Heidi McCarthy laughed good-naturedly as she brought up the rear. “I didn’t realize the site would be so rough.”

Her jeans were spattered with dirt, Owen saw, and her shirt was covered in blackjack needles. “You should have told me to wait up,” he said with a sudden rush of guilt.

“I’m fine.” Laughing again, she brushed at her shirt. “I can handle it.”

Her cheerfulness made his gut cramp. Why couldn’t she fuss a little? Another surge of guilt attacked him. Heidi was a trouper. Whenever she accompanied him to work sites, she never complained about the dirt, the heat, or the potty-mouthed construction workers. She was practical and intelligent. On top of that, with her soft brown hair and sweet smile, she was pretty but never flaunted her looks. She worked hard at McCarthy Construction and never asked for any special favors.

Heidi was his perfect match on paper. She just wasn’t in reality.

“Uh, may I have some water?” she asked him a little shyly.

“Sure.” He handed her a bottle of water from his backpack, conscious of the awkwardness still lingering between them. They used to be such pals. They’d hang out together watching TV or bike riding. But all that had changed a few months ago at that blasted New Year’s Eve party his friend had organized. Heidi had asked if she could tag along, and he’d agreed, thinking nothing of it.

But when midnight had struck, and with a few of drinks in him, he’d found himself in a corner with Heidi, and he’d done the only acceptable thing in that situation. He’d kissed her. It was just a quick peck, but she’d flung her arms around him and given him a mushy, openmouthed kiss.

As the shock receded, the awful truth became apparent—Heidi had more than friendly feelings for him, and he couldn’t find it in him to return them. When she’d kissed him, not the smallest part of him had been aroused. He hadn’t been able to hide his complete lack of attraction, which made it even more humiliating for her.

Eager for a diversion, Owen turned back to Jim. “Let me show you where the gray water will be recycled.”

Jim inspected every aspect of the site with keen interest. “It’ll be great if you can pull this one off,” he said as they all headed back to Owen’s car.

“I’ll do my best.” If he could deliver Bandicoot Creek for Jim, then it would go some way to make up for what he’d done—or rather, didn’t do—with Heidi.

As they drove off, Jim gave Owen a meaningful look. “I’ve got some important news to tell you. Something that’s almost guaranteed to get this project off the ground.” He and Heidi exchanged glances. “You’ll see. He’ll leap at the chance.”

The apprehensive expression on Heidi’s face set off Owen’s warning system. “What exactly will I leap at?”

“The opportunity to rope in a big-league investor. Someone who will make this ornery town council sit up and take notice.” Jim rubbed his hands together. “What would you say to having Gordon Asquith stump up some cash for us?”

Owen’s eyebrows shot up. Gordon Asquith was one of the richest men in the country. The size of his fortune dwarfed McCarthy Construction, and he had a reputation for making politicians quake in their shoes. “I’d say, are you kidding me?”

Jim grinned. “Not kidding at all. I won’t bore you with a long story, but the upshot is Asquith needs to boost his eco-friendly credentials, and investing in our project gives him some kudos. We’re small fry to him, but we can help take some media pressure off him.”

“And with him on board as an investor, I’d get a much smoother ride through the approval stage.” Owen nodded before he remembered the look on Heidi’s face. He glanced at her in the rear of the car. “So what’s the catch, Heidi? What isn’t your dad telling me?”

She gave him a wry smile. “Go on, Dad. Tell him what you did without asking first.”

Jim squirmed in his seat. “Uh, you understand I only had one meeting with the big kahuna, so I had to make a snap decision. I invited him to spend a weekend down here. At your place. Next weekend.”

Owen gaped at his partner before he returned his attention to his driving with some difficulty. “You invited Gordon Asquith to spend next weekend at my house.” He sucked in a breath. “Holy crap. Why next weekend? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to visit you first and check everything was okay. And next weekend was the only time Asquith could come.” Jim paused, his face growing ruddy. “Er, and next weekend Heidi and I are going to Perth for my sister’s birthday.”

Owen clenched the steering wheel. “What the frag? You invite this big shot to spend the weekend with me while you and Heidi run off to Perth? That’s bull— That’s dingo’s kidneys!”

“What was I supposed to do?” Jim made vague soothing motions with his hands. “I had one chance to nab him, and I risked it.” Sighing, he said over his shoulder to Heidi, “Looks like we’ll have to cancel our trip.”

“Sure, Dad—”

“No, you won’t,” Owen interrupted. “You took me by surprise, that’s all. Jeez, you think I’m so hopeless I can’t entertain one investor on my own?” Of course he could do it. Jim thought he could do it, and he couldn’t disappoint Jim.

“No, of course not.” Jim laughed uncomfortably. “Although it won’t be easy spending a whole weekend with this Asquith bloke. He’s a bit, uh, demanding.”

“What does he expect here? Elephants draped in gold and a hundred dancing girls?”

Jim pulled at his lower lip. “I’m not sure…”

The doubt in Jim’s voice made Owen tense. Dampness pricked the back of his neck. Hell, they had a lot riding on this upcoming weekend, and Jim was doing nothing to quell his uneasiness.

“He’s one of those rich toffs,” Jim explained. “Like the kind who live around your neighborhood.” They were almost back at the Kerrigan place, and he waved at the sprawling estates on either side of the road. “He’s persnickety, know what I mean? You can’t just chuck a steak on the barbecue for him, it has to be filet mignon from a fancy restaurant.”

Owen grimaced. Great. This Gordon Asquith sounded like Councilor Lethbridge, and look how
that
visit had bombed. But he couldn’t tell Jim about that. He’d just have to make sure this time he didn’t screw up.

“But I’m sure he’ll approve of this mansion of yours,” Jim continued as they passed through the wrought iron gates guarding the entrance to the Kerrigan home. “It’s very impressive.”

Jim was just being polite, Owen felt. His down-to-earth partner and friend would never choose to live in such a lavish place. He was comfortable with his nice-but-not-spectacular ranch-style house in Sydney’s western suburbs, and wouldn’t swap it for anything. Owen was the one restless for something different.

“It’s still strange to think you used to live here when your dad was the caretaker,” Heidi said from the rear seat. “Doesn’t it feel peculiar being the owner now?”

“I’m not the owner. I’m just renting.”

“You know what I mean. You used to live in staff quarters and clean the pool. Now you’re putting your feet up in the big house, and you can have the rowdiest pool parties you want.”

“I leave the rowdy pool parties to Natasha.”

He hadn’t even swum in the pool yet. Every time he thought of it, an excuse came to mind. Almost as if subconsciously he still didn’t believe he had a right to that pool. Which was rubbish, because he’d earned that right a dozen times over.

He was still thinking about the pool when they entered the house and met Paige walking down the hallway. She greeted them with a brief smile.

“You look like you could do with a rest. I’m setting out lunch in the conservatory, and there are drinks in there already.”

In beige pants and a pink shirt, her hair twisted into a neat bun, she was pristine and refined, her attitude efficient and slightly remote. Owen’s pulse quickened at the sight of her. Ever since he’d turned down her offer for fast and dirty sex, his body went into turmoil whenever she was around. But Paige didn’t seem to suffer the same reaction, or if she did, she hid it very well. Even when she’d thanked him for the window screens, she’d been all cool politeness. She’d withdrawn behind her mask, and he only had himself to blame, but damn how that mask stung him.

“Thanks.” He nodded at her, conscious of the gulf separating them. “I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Just cold meats and salads.” Her expression was as bland as oatmeal. “Go right in.” She gestured toward the corridor leading to the conservatory.

“Uh, I should probably change first.” Heidi plucked at her messy jeans.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Paige tut-tutted. “You shouldn’t have let Owen drag you through the bush.”

Heidi turned red. “No, it’s my fault.”

“What’s the fuss about?” Jim said to his daughter, looking flummoxed. “You look fine to me. Why do you need to change your clothes just to have cold meat and salad?”

Owen saw Heidi darting a glance at Paige, comparing herself, and irritation spiked in his stomach. He didn’t know who got under his skin the most—Paige for looking great and drawing attention to Heidi’s appearance, or Heidi for measuring herself against Paige and becoming self-conscious.

“Yeah, you look fine to me. You don’t need to change.” He cupped Heidi’s elbow, intent on steering her toward the conservatory. “There’s a bathroom near the pool where you can wash up.”

Heidi beamed and squeezed his arm. “Okay.”

Holding her close, he guided her away from Paige. The two women were getting to him, but maybe he was only irritated with himself.

…

Was that catty of me?
The question stung Paige as she stalked back to the kitchen. She’d only been sympathizing with Heidi over the state of her clothes, but Owen had reacted as if she’d bared her claws at his precious friend.

Paige snapped open the refrigerator and began hauling out condiments. The bottles rattled as she yanked them out. God, why was she so worked up about nothing? Since yesterday she’d been the perfect housekeeper looking after Owen’s weekend guests. She’d made up beds, fetched fresh towels, filled vases with flowers, ordered dinners, made breakfasts. Since her rocky beginning, her housekeeping had improved. There was now a regular cleaning service, the dry-cleaning was delivered on time, the pantry was stocked, and she could poach an egg to perfection. Owen couldn’t fault her work.

Why would she want to be catty toward Heidi, anyway? She had no reason to be jealous of the woman.

Oh yeah?
a dissenting voice at the back of her head jeered. If she wasn’t threatened by Heidi, then why had the sight of Owen holding her protectively made Paige’s stomach cramp? Maybe she regarded Owen as hers, and Heidi threatened that notion. No, no, it couldn’t be that. It just couldn’t.

But when she carried the tray of condiments to the conservatory and saw Owen and Heidi chatting, her nerves corkscrewed even tighter. They looked so easy and comfortable with each other, she thought.

They were standing near the ferns. Owen had just said something, and Heidi was grinning at him. Had he been telling her about the time he’d kissed a spoiled teenager among the ferns? The condiments on Paige’s tray clattered, and she had a sudden urge to turn and flee. Instead she moved to the bar counter where she’d already laid out the cold cuts and salad.

“Oh, let me help you,” Heidi exclaimed, and before Paige could protest, the woman darted across and lifted a few bottles from the tray. “I feel so guilty letting you do all the work.” She smiled guilelessly at Paige.

“Don’t be—I’m the housekeeper.” Her reply came out terser than she’d intended.

Heidi’s smile grew uncertain. “I’m not used to having a housekeeper.”

Why did she have to be so bloody nice? And why did she have to be so perfect for Owen? Yup, no point denying it. Heidi was the ideal match for Owen. She was natural and unassuming and so darn pleasant. She was also his partner’s daughter, and she and Owen must have known each other for years. Heidi was everything Paige wasn’t, and that had to mean something to Owen.

Though she wasn’t looking his way, she sensed him approaching, and her lungs constricted. Every nerve in her body seemed attuned to him, reacting to his presence, his voice, his scent, despite her will. It exasperated her the way he’d crawled under her skin. So what if he’d turned her down a few days ago? It didn’t matter if he wasn’t into casual sex. She wasn’t either, but at the time it had seemed like a good idea. The simmering tension between them was getting out of hand; relieving the stress had felt imperative. But though his rejection had riled her at first, secretly she’d been relieved. She and Owen might have the hots for each other, but the history they shared was too complicated and difficult. Enjoying each other’s bodies wouldn’t be a simple case of lust slaked.

“Do you like bologna sausage?” Owen’s voice murmured just behind her ear.

Paige’s heart leaped into her throat. Spinning around, she found herself staring straight into his deep green eyes. Just two days ago those eyes had seared her with his desire; that mouth had branded her, had fed her hunger. Trapped by his gaze, she wondered how much of her roiling emotion she betrayed. Oh, wouldn’t that tickle him, to know she longed for his touch, still.

“I love bologna sausage.” Heidi laughed. “You know that.”

Paige averted her gaze from Owen. Damn, he hadn’t been talking to her at all.

“Here,” he said to Heidi. “Let me make you a bologna sausage sandwich.”

As Heidi leaned against the counter, grinning at Owen, Paige slowly fisted and unfisted her hands. Why did Heidi looked so pleased? It was just a stupid sandwich. And why didn’t she do something about those blackjacks? She looked like a scarecrow.

Uh-oh, now that
was
a catty thought.