Page 45 of Golden Touch
Luckily, Nash returns only a couple minutes later with a toolbox. Then he wastes no time screwing the hotel-style security device onto the door. “It’s not foolproof,” he says. “And I’ll need a locksmith to drill the deadbolt holes as soon as possible. But this will slow ’em down if they try to force the door.”
He measures a piece of scrap wood, cuts it to size, and inserts it above the window sash in the bedroom, preventing anyone from opening the window from the outside.
He’s not just making an effort; he’s making a thoughtful effort.Iwillfeel a little safer knowing that I can’t be taken by surprise in my bed.
A guy who goes to this much trouble deserves to be thanked, but I don’t have the proper means to do so. Except, of course, with my naked body, and that’s not happening.
But hang on. “Would you like a cocktail?” I hear myself offer. “You deserve a treat after all that.”
A naughty grin steals across his kissable mouth. “Sure thing, pussycat. Whatever you’re offering, I’m accepting.”
Honestly, that smile gives me the warm flutters. So I turn away from its brilliance and head for the kitchen, where I scare up a couple of limes and some simple syrup. I’ve got tequila and Cointreau, so I mix up a couple of margaritas on the rocks.
“That looks special,” he says, coming up behind me as I tap some flaked salt into a saucer to rim the glasses.
Suddenly, I’m all too aware of how small the kitchen is, and I remember how closely I’d pancaked my body onto his on the back of his motorcycle. When I inhale, it’s an intoxicating mix of lime and jacket leather. “This is nothing special, really. Back in the day, when I was fun, I made some elaborate cocktails.”
“Hmm,” he says. “If you’re making a cocktail right now, doesn’t that mean you’re still fun? I mean—I’m already having fun.”
I turn to face him and catch the teasing smile on his face. “Nope,” I insist. “I gave it up. This is just a random cocktail between friends. It’s not a trend.”
He tips his head back and grins, as if I said something funny. “Sure thing, honey. Can’t wait.” And the way he sayscan’t waitimplies more than a margarita.
But whatever. He can dream if he wants to. I slice a wedge of lime for a garnish and pour our two drinks. “Here we are. Cheers.”
Still smiling, he picks up his drink and carries it over to the sofa. “Come toast me right here.”
“On the sofa?” I clarify.
“Something wrong with the sofa?”
I shake my head, even though I don’t trust myself on it with him.
But this little party was my idea, so I follow him over and sit down. “To your health,” I say, lifting my glass. “And mine, I guess, since you’ve made it harder for Rotty to terrorize me.”
Our glasses touch, and then he takes a sip. “This is delicious, sweetheart. You are a fun time, whether you admit it or not.”
“Thanks, I guess. But it needs to be said—this is not an attempt to get you drunk so I can take advantage. We’re not sleeping together tonight.”
Wizened brown eyes give me an assessing look. “I like how you put that qualifier on there—nottonight. I like the cocktail, too. And every time I look at you, I get ideas. But I don’t take a woman to bed only when she’s too scared to go alone.”
“I’m not scared,” I argue reflexively.
“Uh-huh.” A sexy grin slides across his mouth. “We both know you’re a tough customer. And now that I’ve gone more than a week without the cops showing up to put me in handcuffs, I can admit that it’s your best feature. You’refierce, darlin’. You don’t take any shit from anybody.”
Something cracks apart inside me when he says this. Because Razor only wanted me to sit down and shut up. Nash sees me for who I really am, and it’s a huge compliment.
Except it has the unfortunate effect of completely disarming me. I’m mute on the sofa, my drink forgotten halfway to my mouth, my gaze locked on Nash’s handsome face.
He takes the drink out of my hand and sets it down on the coffee table. Then he hitches closer to me and takes my face in two roughened hands. “Hold still, pussycat. There’s something I gotta do.”
The kiss seems to happen in slow motion, like a beautiful clip from a film. There’s plenty of time for me to dodge it, but I don’t even try. I don’t have the will.
Instead, I just soak in the sensation of Nash’s smile tilting as hebrushes the tip of his nose over mine. It’s a show of confidence, building up the suspense.
His generous mouth covers mine with a press that’s commanding yet gentle.
Warm flutters rise up and engulf me. When he deepens the kiss, my tummy does a swoop and roll as I grip his shoulders and part my lips.
