Turbulent Intentions(38)

Sweat dripping down his brow, Cooper pushed himself even harder as he ran along the rocky terrain of the Gig Harbor coastline. A breeze ruffled through his hair, and once in a while a mist would come up and cool him down.

Still, he ran faster and harder.

When he stopped at the trail that led back to his property, he pulled off his shirt and wiped his brow. The ten-mile run had been exactly what he’d needed to burn off the excess energy he’d been feeling from being cooped up in small flight decks for the past week.

Man, he loved to fly, but sometimes it was a little claustrophobic.

Walking up the path to his house, he made it to the back patio when he stopped, realizing that something wasn’t right.

Carefully he opened his back door and stepped through. There was the noise again. Someone was moving around his upstairs. The staff was off today, so no one was supposed to be in the house.

Moving to the front of the house, he glanced out the window and didn’t see anything to set off alarms, but then there was that same noise, sounding like shoes scuffling across his hardwood floors.

Well, if someone was there to rob the place, they’d picked the wrong house. Stealthily, he walked up the stairs, determined to catch the culprit. He was furious when he found his bedroom door open. That was his private space, and no one was allowed to step foot inside.

Taking a menacing step forward, Cooper stopped in his tracks when he saw Stormy move past his bed and then peek into his private bathroom. What in the world was the woman he’d been thinking about far too often doing in his bedroom? Had his imagination suddenly conjured her up? Was he daydreaming?

She crossed his spacious floor and ran her fingers along his mocha-colored walls. The natural light filling the room cast a soft glow on her features, and he felt himself growing hard when her fingers caressed his satin drapes as she pushed them aside to peek out onto his large balcony.

His eyes traveled from her to the centerpiece of his room, his very large and comfortable four-poster California king-size bed. It was made and just asking for him to throw her onto it and mess it up.

A ray of sun hit Stormy, casting an almost ethereal glow about her. In her white lace summer dress, she certainly looked like an angel. The plans he had for this woman, though, didn’t come down from heaven.

Never before had Cooper allowed a woman into his bedroom. He took them to hotels or went to their homes, but he didn’t like them to invade his personal space. Surprisingly, even though he had no idea how Stormy had gotten into his house, he didn’t mind her being exactly where she was.

Shaking his head, he scowled though she couldn’t see him. There was a reason he didn’t invite them back to his house—he didn’t want them after him for his ass . . . ets.

Then it hit him.

Uncle Sherman! His eyes narrowed as he realized what the old coot was up to.

First of all, a so-called family friend needed a place to stay. Then conveniently right before she was to move into the guest cottage, the pipes had burst, causing him a hell of a headache, not to mention the cost of repairs, and the family friend now got to stay inside his house.

He and his uncle were going to have a talk real soon.

“I assume you know Sherman Armstrong,” Cooper said as he stepped through his doorway and alerted Stormy of his presence.

She jumped as she spun around, the move nearly toppling her over. Dammit! She was far too close to his bed for her to be getting horizontal. His brain had already begun to picture her lying on top of his dark blue comforter.

“Cooper . . .” His name came out breathlessly, and he really had the urge now to lie her down and hear her saying that in the exact same manner as he slid in and out of her body.

“That’s what my friends call me,” he said with a crooked grin as he leaned back against his wall. “If you really wanted in my bedroom so badly, all you had to do was ask,” he added with a wink he knew would infuriate her.

Stormy’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she moved away from the bed and farther from him.

“This is your house.” She said the words almost as an accusation. Sherman hadn’t told her any more about where she was staying than he’d told Cooper who would be staying with him. Family friend, my ass, Cooper thought.

“Yep, it is.”

“I . . . uh, didn’t know . . . when Sherman said his nephew had a place, I never thought . . .”

She seemed to be getting her equilibrium back as they faced off. Interesting. He actually believed she hadn’t known it was his place. What was also interesting was the fact that he wasn’t upset about having a guest anymore.

His pride wasn’t unaffected when he saw the appreciative light in her eyes as she took in his appearance. He’d had a great run today. Yes, he knew his dark hair needed a good brushing, and he was covered in sweat, but she didn’t appear to mind.