Heat Wave Page 3

  “Let me help you.”

  “It’s okay. I got it.” She bent down and quickly scooped up her belongings and shoved them back in her purse. She was sure that if someone had shone a light on her face, they would have seen flames of embarrassment dancing beneath her skin. She stood and wanted to duck inside and call it a night.

  Ian took her hand to stop her from putting the key in the door. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Her gaze jumped to his. She tried to swallow but couldn’t. She could feel his body heat bouncing off him.

  “Question?”

  “Yes. It had to do with two healthy adults who are very attracted to each other spending the night . . . and maybe the morning expressing that attraction.” His mouth moved into a soft, sensual smile that was impossible to resist.

  He stepped closer, so close that his image blurred. She knew she should stop him. What would he think? Too late. She didn’t care.

  His mouth moved against hers—strong, secure, full, and sweet all at once. She moved into his embrace as his muscled arms wrapped around her. Pinpoints of light popped behind her closed lids when her body came flush with his and she felt the beat of Ian’s arousal against her own. Expert fingers with the power to loosen taut muscles and her last vestiges of reason moved up and down her spine. The heat of desire roared through her, melting Nina’s body into his.

  Slowly and with great reluctance, Ian eased back. He stroked her cheek.

  “Better than I thought,” he said on a husky breath. He brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “I was always told the best gifts are worth waiting for.”

  He wasn’t going to leave her like this?

  “I’ll see you in the morning.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, turned, and walked across the yard to his house.

  Nina didn’t know if she wanted to throw something or scream. Her body was vibrating. He’d intentionally led her on, heated her up, and left her like a . . . She huffed in fury, jammed her key in the door, and went inside. So he was a tease. He wanted to play games, she fumed all the way up the stairs. She pushed open her bedroom door and threw her purse onto the bed, then stormed over to the balcony that faced his house. Lights were on. She folded her arms. A slow smile moved across her mouth. She lifted her chin.

  “Then let the games begin.”

  Chapter 5

  Ian couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to take a cold shower. Walking away from a desirable woman who appeared as ready as he was wasn’t how he operated. He stood under the water, and if he didn’t know better, he’d swear that the water steamed when it hit his body.

  He turned his face up to the spray. Nina Forbes wasn’t the kind of woman you had a one-night stand with. As much as he’d wanted to strip her naked and feast on that lush body, that’s not what she deserved. He’d left a string of brief encounters in his wake . . . but there was something about Nina . . .

  He turned off the water. The shower had done him no good. He was still hard as a rock. Heat thumped in his veins. It was going to be a long night.

  The morning brought only mild relief. Ian felt a little better, but his desire for Nina hadn’t lessened. If anything it had intensified throughout his restless night. He’d dreamed of doing everything short of illegal to her body. The idea that he barely knew her, hadn’t spent any real time with her is what had his head all screwed up. Had she been any other woman, he would have taken what she offered, let the weeks play themselves out, and moved on.

  Something that he couldn’t explain stopped him, and the inexplicability of it had him tight as a drum. He put on a pair of shorts and his sneakers and went out for a jog along the beach. Maybe he could burn off some of his pent-up energy. He didn’t even think he could focus on painting, which usually soothed him.

  Ian took off along the shoreline at a slow jog, hoping to clear his head and organize his thoughts. He had to figure out what he really wanted to do about Nina other than taste every inch of her. The truth was, he lived on the other side of the water. He had a thriving business that occupied most of his time. During the summer, he came to the Hamptons and ran his club, relaxed, and indulged himself in his art. That was the portrait of his life. Where could Nina fit into that tight frame? Maybe all it could be was a hot summer fling. She seemed up for it. So why was he stressing himself?

  Nina was stretched out on a lounge chair on her back deck. She still had a hard time getting over what had happened at the back door the night before. She’d shifted from stunned to angry to embarrassed to disappointed and back to basically pissed off. The worst part was that she felt used. Ian had worked his British charm, gotten her all worked up just to see how far she would let him go, and she’d been foolish enough to put all her cards on the table. What she’d done spelled “easy.”

  She reached for her glass of orange juice and took a sip. It’s not that she was prim and proper or anything, but in truth, she wasn’t the kind of woman who slept with a man she barely knew. So why Ian Harrison? Why was she so ready and willing? And what in the world must he think of her now? She groaned in misery. If she hadn’t agreed to watch the house, she would pack up and leave. She didn’t know how she was going to face him. Her only choice was to make herself as scarce as possible. There was an entire town to explore.

  Nina pushed up from her reclining position and spotted Ian jogging toward his house. She made a move to dart inside before he saw her, but she didn’t move soon enough.

  “Nina!”

  His voice was carried along by the morning breeze and lifted the tiny hairs along her arms. She started to pretend that she hadn’t heard him, but something stopped her.

  He was coming in her direction and it was as if she’d lost all willpower. Seeing him, with the sweat from his run glistening on his chest, the muscles of his thighs bulging and contracting as he ran, was hypnotic and whatever idea she had in her head to make a beeline for the house got all cloudy and fuzzy.

  Ian jogged to a stop in front of her, took the towel from around his neck, and wiped his face. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  His gaze darted around for a moment then settled on her. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Great,” she lied. “And you?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve had better nights.”

  “Hmmm. Well, I was getting ready to . . . do something inside.” She started to move away.

  “Nina, about last night.”

  Her stomach jumped. She arched her right brow. “What about it?”

  “I shouldn’t have come on to you the way I did.” He saw her tense. “At least not the first night we’d known each other.” He glanced down for a moment, hoping to get his thoughts in order. “Look, I have a thing for you. Simple as that. We’re both adults. I live way on the other side of the ocean ten months out of the year. So if anything does jump off between us—”

  “I’m game if you are,” she said without flinching. She planted her hand on her hip, practically challenging him to be good at his word.

  The corner of his mouth curved slightly upward. “Always.”

  Her eyes moved slowly over him from top to bottom and back. “I’m busy right now, but my afternoon and evening are free. Any plans?” She quietly relished in seeing the macho façade shake just a bit.

  “How about a late lunch? I have to go over to the club shortly, check on a few things. Get ready for the opening.” He paused. “Actually, depending on how long you’re busy, you can come with me. We can grab something in town.”

  She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. “I can be unbusy in about an hour.”

  “I’ll be out front. We’ll take my car.”

  “See you in an hour.” She walked away, fighting back a sunshine smile.

  So this was going to be an adult summer fling, she thought as she went through her wardrobe to find something that would take her from afternoon to possible evening. It was clear that Ian wasn’t into commitment and she was cool with that. She couldn’t see how it would work otherw
ise. It was like he said, they lived on different sides of the water. And she knew she wasn’t into long-distance relationships. Getting her groove back with Ian Harrison was what she needed. When the summer was over, they’d go back to what they were doing and hopefully take some good memories along with them.

  Nina picked out a soft magenta sundress that hugged her waist, flared out around her hips, and kissed her knees. The thin spaghetti straps accentuated her shoulders, and the deep scooped neckline gave a teasing hint of cleavage. A vanilla-toned open-weaved shawl if it got cool later on, sling-back sandals, and small clutch purse the same color as the shawl were her accessories. She added thin silver hoops and a silver chain with a teardrop in the center to finish off her outfit.

  She looked at all of the pieces laid out on the bed. It was cool, classy, and just enough sexy without being obvious. Now all she had to do was wait out her “busy” hour.

  Nina took her time getting dressed, worked a little extra on her hair, gave her nails a fresh coat of clear polish, and just as she was putting on her sandals, the front doorbell rang. She took a quick look in the full-length mirror in the bathroom, put an extra slash of lip gloss on her mouth, grabbed her purse, and went to the door.

  “Right on time,” she greeted.

  Ian’s eyes lit up when he saw her. “Lovely,” he said, the single word both husky and possessive.

  Nina offered him a smile, stepped out, and shut the door behind her. She walked by him to give him a quick whiff of her scent and did a slow stroll to his car.

  Ian snapped himself from the hypnotic trance of her hips and hurried behind her, getting to the passenger door just as she did. He opened the door for her and Nina slid onto the butter-soft leather seat like a movie star on her way to Oscar night. He drew in a deep breath and shook his head in amazement at his luck.

  “I shouldn’t be too long at the club,” he said, putting the car in gear and easing out onto the two-lane road.

  “It’s not a problem.” She leaned back and let the breeze blow over her, hoping that it would take her temperature down a notch. Being this close to him was creating havoc at all her pleasure points. Her nipples were hard, and jolts of need shot through her as they brushed against her clothing. And he hadn’t even touched her. She crossed her legs in hopes of calming the pulse that was beating between her legs.

  “How did you get into teaching?”

  Nina blinked to attention. “Um, my aunt was a teacher. She was my favorite.” She smiled at the memory. “She was the one who got me to love books and reading and getting an education. I followed in her footsteps. I wanted to change lives the way she changed mine. I’ve always believed that education was the way out.”

  Ian stole a quick look at her. Her tone, the conviction about her beliefs, and the obvious affection that she held for her aunt added a new dimension to her. It took her beyond the femme fatale to a more rounded, thoughtful woman. That realization shook him in a way that he could not explain.

  “Lauren was telling me that you have an architectural business and you paint and you own a lounge. Busy man.”

  Ian laughed. “You could say that. But I enjoy what I do. Took over the business after my father passed about ten years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “It’s been a while.”

  “What do you design?”

  “Mostly resorts, condos, and townhouses.”

  “Only in Barbados?”

  “So far. I’ve been thinking of branching out.” He shrugged. “Expensive.” He turned onto the main road in town.

  “So what made you decide to come here and open a lounge?”

  Ian laughed. “One of my other passions,” he confessed. “I’m a would-be musician, culinary school dropout, and fledgling artist. I figured if I mixed them all up together I’d come up with something. Turned out to be the lounge. Plus it adds some culture to the Hamptons, if you know what I mean.”

  Nina giggled. “So basically, the lounge is in response to those unsatisfied needs.”

  Ian stole a look at her before pulling into a parking space. “I do what I can to satisfy my needs.”

  A thrill ran through her. She chose not to comment.

  Ian unfastened his seat belt. “This shouldn’t take too long.” He got out, came around, and helped her out of the car. “It’s right up the street.”

  They walked along the street, stepping around the tourists who lined the narrow walkways until Ian came to a stop in front of a glass-front building sandwiched between a high-end boutique and an organic grocer.

  “Harrison’s,” Nina said, looking up at the silver lettering on the awning. “Very original.”

  “Must I be brilliant too?” he teased. He turned the knob on the door, then stepped aside to let Nina pass.

  Her eyes adjusted to the dimness. It was a typical lounge setup: horseshoe bar, circular tables, low couches and side chairs, a few booths, and a stage for entertainment. But what set it apart was the amazing artwork that hung on the walls. In every available space there were brilliant pieces, from abstracts to landscapes to portraits. Instinctively, Nina knew that they were Ian’s.

  “I need to check on the inventory,” Ian said, breaking into her perusal. “Be right back.”

  “Sure.” She walked around and took a closer look at the pictures, totally impressed with his skill. He had talent and it obviously didn’t stop with simple sex appeal. There were dimensions to Ian Harrison. He was a businessman, a skilled artist, a creator of visions. She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. He was more than she bargained for. She didn’t want to think of him beyond a sexy man whom she wanted to make love to. If she thought of him beyond being an object of her desires, she was going to get all messed up in the head and confuse a hot fling with something more. And they’d both agreed that was not possible.

  She was examining a seascape that resembled Ian’s house set against the ocean when he came up behind her.

  “Hope I didn’t take too long.”

  She turned, and when she focused on him, her insides did a little tap dance, her heart beat a little faster, and she felt breathless all at once. “I had no idea that you had such an impressive body of work. This is no hobby,” she said, regaining her composure.

  “I suppose if I didn’t take over my father’s business, I would have tried to pursue a career as an artist. But you can’t always do what you want in life. At least this way,” he said, looking around at his work, “I still get to share what I do.”

  “I’m a believer in doing what makes you happy. I think you can have it all.”

  “Do you?” he said, taking a step closer. He dipped his head and brushed his lips lightly against hers. He let his finger trail along the side of her face.

  Her breath caught as her lids fluttered over her eyes and tingles ran through her.

  Ian’s arm curved around her waist and eased her to him. “I think I like your philosophy.”

  “Mr. Harrison.”

  Ian looked over his shoulder.

  “There’s a call for you in the office.”

  “Thanks, Sam.” He turned back to Nina. “I’ll be right back.”

  He started to move off. Nina clasped his arm, stepped up to him, and kissed him, slow and easy, and then moved away. “Hurry back,” she said on a breath.

  His gaze raked over her. “Before you know it.”

  Nina watched him walk between the tables to the back and through a door. She twirled around in a quick circle, her skirt fanning out around her legs. She lowered her head and shook it in disbelief. What in heaven’s name had gotten into her, she thought even as she felt the smile pulling her mouth in opposite directions. The man made her think and do things that were totally out of character. But what the hell? You only live once, right? This was a chance of a lifetime, from the free vacation in a fancy dream house to meeting the man who could get a blind woman’s panties in a bunch. She hugged herself and looked out the window at the streams of happy strollers p
assing by. It didn’t get better than this.

  That’s where she was wrong.

  Chapter 6

  Nina and Ian walked hand in hand along the cobblestone streets, stopping to peek in the different shops and boutiques before coming to where Ian took her for brunch.

  Mixed with the thrill of getting to know each other, there was still the element of feeling easy and comfortable together.

  They talked about their respective lives on opposite ends of the globe, their favorite books, music and movies, politics, hopes, and dreams. Ian told her how he’d gotten started painting. It was during his junior year in high school. His mother was very ill and part of her recovery was art therapy.

  “She liked to paint in the mornings,” he began, his memory drifting off to the sunrises that glistened across the Caribbean, washing the whitewashed porch in an orange glow. He focused on Nina, who had a half smile on her face. “She wasn’t very good,” he confessed, “but she enjoyed it. I would sit with her on the weekends while she worked. I guess it started when I would make suggestions to her as she painted—about color combinations or objects. She started letting me use her paints to show her what I meant. Before long I was painting. I still have no idea where the skill came from. I somehow was able to see in between the lines, beyond the eye.” He shook his head as if still amazed by it all.

  “Some talents come naturally,” she said and took a sip of her wine, looking above the rim of her fluted glass into his eyes.

  Ian tried hard to keep his thoughts clear, but when she said things like that accompanied by that “come hither” look in her eyes, he lost all concentration. Fortunately the busboy came and cleared the table, giving him a moment to regroup. Nina was reapplying her lipstick, which didn’t help.