Turbulent Desires(12)

She shot him a look that should have killed him on the spot, and this  time when she yanked to free herself, he actually released her. The  momentum almost sent her on her butt into the freezing sea water that  had already numbed her feet.

"Do you honestly think I have so little pride that I would need to force you into my bed?" she cried in outrage.

"That just goes with the territory, sugar. I'm impossible to resist. But  that's not the point of this mission. That's just a pleasurable  detour."

"You pompous, assuming ass. I wouldn't sleep with you again if you were the last man on the planet," she scolded.

So quickly, she didn't even have time to blink, he was right up on her  again, his hand behind her head. Her breath rushed out and her body  shook, but this time it wasn't from fear. This time it was from  something she didn't even want to begin to analyze.

"I never said anything about sleeping, sugar," he said.

Then he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. It all happened  too quickly for her to have much of a reaction, but just as quickly as  he'd grabbed her, he let her go again and took several steps back.

"See, sugar, you can feel so much more than fear. You can feel anger and desire," he said with his smile back in place.

"Are you playing games with me?" she gasped.

"Nope. I just like that I can inspire so much passion in you," he told her.

"That's not passion, you ass. That's fury," she snapped.

"Fury and passion go hand in hand. Not everything is about sex," he  said. She took a menacing step toward him and he backed up real quick.  It made her feel powerful. That was something she hadn't felt in a very  long time.

"I think I better get out of here while I still only have one broken  arm. I'll pick you up tomorrow," he told her with another laugh.

With that, he turned and walked away, soon disappearing. Lindsey watched  him until he was gone, and only then realized her fingers were pressing  against her lips where his had barely brushed against them.

He'd made her run through a gamut of emotions in the past half hour, and  she wasn't sure exactly what any of that meant. But she knew one thing  for sure. She wasn't going to help him with the fund-raiser. No way, no  how. She standing firm, battening down the hatches, and locking the  doors and windows.

Maverick Armstrong was dangerous, probably the most dangerous man she'd  ever met. And if Lindsey wanted to keep what was left of her sanity in  place, then she had best stay away from him.         

     



 

That decided, she slowly made her way back to Stormy's yard, peeking  around before slipping through the fence and then rushing to the guest  cottage. Maybe it was time to move.

That thought sent fear through her. No. It wasn't time to leave yet. She  just had to be more aware when Maverick was around, that was all. If  she avoided him, she'd be just fine.

If only she believed that were actually possible.





CHAPTER TEN

The floor was getting worn out as Lindsey paced back and forth across  the living room. She wasn't waiting on Maverick. No way, no how. Again,  she turned and looked at the clock: 10:00 a.m.

What did the time matter? For one thing, she had vehemently decided she  wasn't going with the man. For another, he hadn't exactly set a time  that he was planning on showing up, so it did her absolutely no good to  sit there and gaze at the clock.

"Argh!"

The low grumble escaped her mouth as she turned again only to be stopped in her tracks.

"Miss me?"

There he was, leaning against the wall next to her open door. Had she  left it unlocked? No way. She couldn't have done that. She hadn't  forgotten to secure the doors once since the attack. Was this man  seriously messing with her head so much that she couldn't even remember  to lock the doors anymore?

"No, I didn't miss you in the least," she said through clenched teeth. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"The door was open and you seemed to be in a world of your own, so I  thought I would wait until you worked through whatever it is that has  you pacing the floors," he told her with that damn grin of his that made  her legs shaky.

"How long have you been standing there?" She would have thought she'd  notice the intrusion. That she hadn't felt anything amiss worried her on  a whole new level.

"Not long. Just enough to see you wearing holes in the floor," he told her as he pushed off from the wall.

"Well, you can turn around and leave now. I'm not going anywhere with you," she said decidedly.

"We both know you're frustrated because you want to go out and that,  more than anything else, is what's worrying you. And since you're all  dressed and ready to go, we don't want to waste the day," he said,  coming closer.

She backed away from him until her butt hit the back of the couch, trapping her as he boxed her in.

"I do not," she whispered.

Those damn fingers lifted and he brushed her loose hair back behind her ear as he held her captive with his gaze.

"Listen, sugar, I've gotten wounds before. I've seen things most people  can't even imagine actually exist. I've watched helplessly as fallen  soldiers haven't been able to pick up the pieces of their sanity. I'm  not willing to do that with you. What you went through was tragic. But  I'm going to give you a reason to keep on living, to keep on loving  life, and to forget about the bastard that tried to take all of that  away from you."

No passion, no cockiness, no alpha male rested in those piercing eyes as  he spoke to her this time. Only compassion. She wasn't sure what scared  her more.

"I . . . I'm not afraid," she said, knowing the crack in her voice belied the words.

"You're strong, sug. Trust me, I know this, but it's okay to show a few  cracks when we've been hit," he said, his hand now resting on her  shoulder. "We all have a few open wounds."

"Quit calling me sugar," she said, trying to clear her head.

"But you are so damn sweet," he told her. There was the cockiness she'd been looking for.

That was so much easier to face than the kind, gentle person he turned  into sometimes. The jokester, alpha macho man she could resist-mostly;  the gentle giant she wanted to fall against.

No. She refused to rely on anyone.

"You ready to go?"

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

"Look, I'll back off on the fund-raiser for the day. I want to take you  somewhere special to me. Only if you agree afterward will we talk about  the project."

She tried to find a flaw with his reasoning but couldn't. She sort of  wanted to go out with him. Why else would she have gotten up and  dressed, taking extra care with her hair and makeup?

He saw her hesitation and pounced.

"Lins, I don't take no for an answer. Just give me a chance, and you'll see I'm a great guy."

There was the gentle giant again. Still, she hesitated. He sighed as he gave her a look.

"Okay, sug, I'm not looking for a marriage. There are reasons for that,  but it's the last thing I want. However, I can't keep thoughts of you  away, and I want to see where this is going," he admitted.         

     



 

"I don't even know who I am right now, so I don't want some fairy-tale ending, either," she whispered.

"Then let's just be friends, and I'll give you a great day."

He was so smooth, and he was telling her upfront that this wouldn't  last. That's what she wanted, she assured herself. She hadn't decided to  go with him, yet she found herself nodding her head. What the heck?  That hadn't been what she'd intended to do.

"You need to tie your hair up and put on some tennis shoes," he said  with a wicked smile that had her worried all over again. The gentle  giant was gone again.

"Fine. If I agree to this . . . outing, will you leave me alone?"

"Nope. I didn't say I would back off, I just said I'd give you a break," he said.

"What if I can't stand being around you?" she challenged.

He leaned forward, his body heat scorching her. Her breathing shortened  and she had to fight not to reach around and tug him closer.

"Sugar, we both know that's not the case. We're going to be lucky if we  both don't spontaneously combust while spending time together. But don't  worry, I won't take you until you're ready . . . and begging me to."

Gulping, Lindsey stood there without moving a muscle. She had the strong  urge to pull him the last inch needed for his body to brush against  hers. Dang it! Why him?

When Stormy touched her she flinched. And Lindsey skirted Cooper like he  was a demon trying to suck out her soul. So why was it that, of all  people, Maverick was the one she didn't fear? It wasn't as if they had  an actual connection. So why, in her darkest hour, did it seem he was  the only person she could stand to be so close to?

"It's chemistry and trust," he whispered as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek.

"What is?" she gasped as her stomach trembled.

"What you're feeling."

Could the man also read minds? Did she have to veil her thoughts? She squinted at him as he pulled back.