Page 20 of Some Like It Deadly
Delighted by the play, he pushed away from the counter and pulled open the fridge. He’d promised her breakfast. “I do remember. So how about a wager?” Unfortunately, his fridge only had bottles of water, a couple of sandwiches in takeout boxes, and creamer for the coffee. He didn’t remember the last time he’d stocked food—or did he? Miranda usually arranged for a grocery delivery, but she’d left weeks before and he’d eaten out or at the office since then.
“Depends, what are we wagering on exactly?”
“Well we’re not wagering on breakfast because I would lose.” He glanced at his bare wrist and scowled. His watch was upstairs and he hadn’t tracked down his cell phone yet. “What time is it?”
“Nine,” she answered. She set her coffee cup on the counter and padded out of the kitchen. He followed behind her and when she bent at the waist, reaching over the back of a chair, he fixed on her bottom—the skirt shaped it perfectly. By the time she’d turned back to him, with his jacket in hand, he’d gotten his wandering gaze back to safer territory. “You left this in the car last night.”
“Thank you and thank you for driving me home.” He fished into his pockets for his cell phone. He had a dozen urgent emails and a couple of messages from Armand, including one asking about a racquetball game. Answering it automatically, he postponed for a couple of days, then scanned his emails.
“And that’s one point to me. Too bad we didn’t actually decide on the bet.” Her amusement curved around him like a teasing brush of her fingertips. Kate sat perched on the arm of the sofa, one golden leg crossed over the other. All sleek muscle, the woman had nothing spare on her. Her grin widened. “You’re in your email. That’s not taking the day off. So point to me.”
He grimaced and tabbed out of his inbox. “Habit. I wanted to call and get some food delivered, or we’re going to starve. There’s a great little bakery up the road, how about we break all the rules and get high on sugar while we play?”
“That’s definitely living on the edge.” Her lips twitched.
Amused by her mocking, he pointed a finger at her. “Go find yourself something comfortable to wear in the changing room. It’s right through there.” He pointed down a hall. “I’ll get the food ordered and meet you at the pool. Our day off starts right now.”
She straightened and saluted him crisply. “You should probably change too. The slacks and the pool won’t mix.” Pivoting on her heel, she headed in the direction he indicated and he glanced down.
He’d been talking to her shirtless the entire time. Nothing said sexy like pale skin and scars.
Screw it. She’s about to see me in swimming trunks and I get to see her in a bathing suit.
It was his day off and he wanted to flex the rules a little. He put in an order for the food delivery and paid for it with his credit card. Glancing at the pillow that still held the barest impression of where her head had rested the night before, guilt stabbed him. He’d have to give her a tour of the house so she’d feel comfortable with a bed the next time she stayed over. Yes, there would be a next time. He was enough of a realist to recognize his interest.
It took him ten minutes to return to his room, change into swim trunks and return. Retrieving their coffee cups from the kitchen and some bottles of water, he headed out to his pool. He’d have to make it clear to her that the only reason he carried his phone as well was so he’d be alerted when breakfast was delivered.
The tiered patio and swimmer’s paradise pool were two of the reasons he’d bought his house. Perched comfortably on a hill overlooking the ocean, he also enjoyed a spectacular view and privacy from even his closest neighbor a half-mile down the beach. No one out front could see his little haven and no one on the beach below would see him unless he stood next to the railing.
Kate was at the opposite end of the pool, a deep green one-piece bathing suit hugging every curve. He forgot to think when she executed a clean dive into the water. Her long arms flexed with each slice as she swam from the deep end toward him. The moment she touched the wall, she arced away, perfectly graceful to swim back the way she’d come.
Sinking onto a chair, he set the mugs, phone and water bottles on the table and just watched her swim. Back and forth,she performed the laps like a professional—he could see where she’d gotten her trim physique. By the time she completed ten laps and came up for air, he had most of his hormones under a tight leash.
“All right.” She drifted over to rest against the side of the pool and grin at him. “This is definitely a perk.”
“The pool?” It delighted him that she liked it.
“The pool. The day. It’s beautiful.” The sun glinted off the water droplets sliding down the curve of her cheek.
Yes, she was. “It’s why I bought the place.” He braced his feet against the warm concrete and let the heat soak in against his back. The coffee and the company had done wonders for his hangover.
“You like swimming?” She leaned back into the water and slicked her hair away from her face.
“I do, but it was for days like this. Days when I could just be out here and be alone, not worry about someone staring at me or watching for me to do something or make a mistake.” It sounded very Dickensian. “That came out wrong.”
“You like your privacy.” She flexed her arms, then pulled herself out of the water to sit on the side, feet dangling. “I get it.”
A long thin, pink line bisected her left shoulder blade and disappeared behind the razorback of the suit. Rising, he walked over and crouched next to her. Tracing the scar, he frowned. “What happened here?” Her muscles went rigid under his touch and he hesitated, curling his fingers toward his palm. “Sorry,” he murmured.
“Just surprised me, is all.” She shook her head and her shoulders relaxed a fraction. “And that?” She twisted to glance at her shoulder and laughed. “Oh, I’d almost forgotten I had that.”
Shifting to sit next to her, he dropped his feet into the water and braced his palms on the pool edge—that should help him keep his hands to himself. “I sense a story there.”
“Not a very exciting one. Actually, it’s a pretty stupid story, now that I think about it.” The combination of her self-deprecating tone and rueful expression elicited an altogether tender response that he didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Now you have to tell me.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “You got my deep, dark secret out of me last night.” He never talked about his father, the subject guaranteed to put him in a black mood, but in this moment, sitting in the sunshine next to Kate, the shadow passed by with nothing more than a twist to his heart.
“To be fair, you need to understand that I grew up on an army base with three older brothers and their four best friends. These hooligans got into everything.” She made a face and he grinned. He really didn’t know much about the woman behind the efficient assistant beyond her sharp intelligence and occasionally saucy bites of wit. “As the youngest and a girl—” she grimaced, “—I was often excluded from some of their more exciting adventures.”
