"Maddie?" Sam called through the door. "I've changed my mind. You can keep the dress on."
She rolled her eyes and almost smiled. "Too late. It's off."
He muttered something that sounded like a swear word.
She shrugged out of her dress but kept the lingerie on. He wouldn't see anything and she liked the way the bra gave her an extra boost. She stepped into an old pair of jeans and oversized white shirt. She hesitated at the door and undid the top two buttons to reveal just enough cleavage to catch his attention but not enough that he'd walk into walls.
She sucked in a few deep breaths but it didn't make her feel any less nervous. Best to get it over with. Let Sam say what he wanted to say then she could tell him she had to wash her hair. The sooner he left the better. For both of them.
He was studying the back of the empty DVD cover when she returned to the living room. "You're a fan of Eastwood? I didn't think chicks liked his films."
"I'm not your average chick."
His blue stare grazed over her body, from her pulled back hair to her bare feet. It was no less intense than when she wore the dress. "No kidding." His voice rumbled from deep in his chest and Maddie felt it vibrate deep within hers.
She swallowed. Oh boy. How was she supposed to have a sensible conversation with a man who made her inner thighs tremble? She needed to get rid of him, now, before her heart got broken.
And by the hunger in his eyes, that moment wasn't far away.
Sam couldn't take his eyes off Maddie. She looked hot. It didn't matter whether she wore the barely-there dress or the over-sized shirt, especially when she stood in front of the window and the streaming sunlight outlined her luscious curves through the thin white cotton. She looked incredible, and it never ceased to surprise him that this was Maddie Clarke, intellectual, the little sister of one of his friends. She'd grown into the most amazing woman and he was suddenly glad he'd been away all this time so he could witness this transformation afresh. Somehow, it was easy to miss the important things when they happened right in front of your face.
He wouldn't have missed this for all the sport on TV. Thank God for his wandering spirit and his spur of the moment idea to return to Melbourne.
Now, if only he could touch her again.
He blew out a breath as she moved around the living room, avoiding looking directly at him. She picked up the chocolate bar wrappers, plumped up cushions and fussed until things were back in their proper place. He didn't mind. He could stare at her all day doing everything or nothing. She was graceful, her movements fluid, like a lithe cat as she bent, walked or simply stood.
Sam tore his gaze away. He needed to concentrate on not making a fool of himself in front of her. Now that would be a challenge, especially if she kept standing in front of windows.
The silence intensified and he tried to think of something to say. Anything to break the awkwardness which she didn't seem to notice. But before he got a chance to mention the great weather they were having, she disappeared into the kitchen. A few moments later he followed her. She stood at the bench and put the kettle on. He watched her move, from the tipping of her head as she poured the water to the swell of her hips as she leaned against the bench. He wanted to touch them, to place his hands on the soft flesh and caress her, from the top of her spine to the cleft of her—
So much for concentrating on something other than Maddie's body.
"Why are you staring?" she asked without turning round.
"Um, I was just wondering how to ask you something."
She did turn this time. A small dint settled between her brows as she frowned at him. "Don't, Sam."
So much for asking her why they couldn't date anymore. "Actually, I was going to ask you to help me find a place to live."
She leaned against the kitchen bench and crossed her arms, covering those big, beautiful mounds he wanted to lick.
He tore his attention away from her body and up to her face. He tried to read her thoughts but her blank expression gave him nothing.
"I need to move out of Mum's," he said. "I'm cramping her style."
"Not the other way round?"
He cringed at the accusatory tone. She still thought he was the kind of guy to date several women at once? Unfair. He hadn’t done that in years. "Not this time. Believe me, Mum's changed since Dad died. She's discovered life. And men."
"So why can't she help you find a place?"
"She will. That's what I'm worried about." He swept his hand in an arc. "I like your style. You've got great taste, Maddie. I just thought," he shrugged, "that I could borrow some of that style. Maybe once I get a place you can help me furnish it."
"Don't you already have furniture?"