Deceive Her With Desire (5 page)

“I’m fine.”

She looked up at him. Even in the pale light, he could see the sadness in her eyes.

“Actually, I’m not all right.” She pushed herself up, ducking her head away from the oarlock. She wiped at the sand on her bottom. “You scared the living shit out of me.”

Biting back a smile, Ayden watched her glistening tears turn to fury.
That
he could handle. An angry woman was one hundred times easier to placate than a despondent one.

“Again, I apologize.” He held his hand out as a peace offering. “I’m Austin Schaeffer.” How easily that name slipped off his tongue.

“Deirdre Tilling,” She shook the hand he offered.

Her grip was surprisingly firm. Ayden liked the touch of her palm against his skin. Not all soft and pliant, but callused and rough. He wondered how it would feel running up his back.

She was a beautiful woman. Her breasts swelled enticingly just above the bodice of her dress. Her long, muscular legs that he’d admired in the great room, started somewhere around her neck. No wonder Jameson had been seducing this lovely creature.

Jameson.
Right
.
He mentally shook his head.
Focus, Ayden.
Tonight was about gathering information, not sexual conquests. But then again, there
was
that two birds and one stone thing.

“You come to Jameson’s parties often?” He immediately slipped into detective mode.

She pulled her hand from his and rubbed at the spot on her head. “What? Jameson? Oh, Shawn. No, never been to one of his parties. I’m one of his employees. Damn, this hurts. It’s already forming an egg.”

Ayden ignored the fact she’d called the owner
Shawn
. Obviously, he wasn’t getting any action from an
employee
who referred to her boss by his first name.

“Here, let me take a look at it.” He ran his fingers through her hair. It was soft as silk sliding over his hand.
“Oh, yeah.
You did a nice job. Probably could use a little ice.” At this rate, so could he, but not on the head on his shoulders.

“
I
did a nice job?
Me?
You were the one sneaking up like some pirate looking for lost treasure.”

The woman had no idea how close to the truth she was. “I wasn’t sneaking up on you, I heard you crying.”

And just like that the white knight had rendered her speechless.

Deirdre had started the evening with her moral compass pointing the way to a mindless hookup that would break her sexual dry spell. She’d quickly lost her way after her encounter with the brunette and the mansion’s owner. She was ending her evening hiding on the beach crying into her proverbial beer over not taking a damn risk.

The whole thing with Shawn earlier had been stupid. There had been nothing untoward about the man. Her own insecurities had total screwed with her head, imagining danger where none had existed. She’d run from a perfect gentleman like a skittish rabbit afraid of being snared.

Perhaps she’d been granted a second chance.

“Yes, well, as you can see I’m fine.” Deirdre looked at the guy standing over her. Her head throbbed, but it didn’t stop her body from reacting to his hungry gaze. He had nice features. A strong jaw that softened with the smile he kept flashing her. The light of the moon reflected in his eyes that held an attentive kind of glint. Her pulse rate skipped about with anticipation rather than concern. But he was a man. She hadn’t been with a guy since Bobby Mullins eighteen months ago, and she remembered vividly what a horrible, drunken decision between friends
that
had been.

Deirdre had sworn off men at that point. She shivered at the recollection.

“You cold?”
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms.

“No, I…” His hand grazed the side of her breast, and her nipples immediately pebbled.
“Yeah, maybe a little.”
She had
not
just fluttered her lashes at the man.
But what the hell?
After the rejection from the woman in the great room, Deirdre was feeling more than a little needy. For goodness’ sake, she’d just been bawling her eyes out over not getting laid. What was the difference between the dildos she kept in the box under her bed, and real, live flesh and blood pumping into her? Emotional attachment, that’s what. But she was feeling hopeless enough to risk it.

“You want to go someplace warmer?” Austin’s hands continued to trail awareness up and down her arms.

“I live really far away.”

His head tipped back as if she’d struck him, and he dropped his hands. Then he laughed. “I was thinking up to the house. But I wouldn’t turn you down if you wanted a nightcap at my place. It’s not far from here.”

Heat pulsed in Deirdre’s cheeks. She’d been so focused on going home with someone—anyone— that she was practically throwing herself at this man. How could she have misunderstood? “No…don’t feel obligated. I mean, well…oh,
hell,
I’m not very good at this.”

He trailed his knuckle from her cheek bone to her chin.
“A drink at my place.
What do you say?”

“That sounds nice. But I’ll take my own truck.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Twenty minutes later, Deirdre was following his black Jag into a condominium complex in Cutler, thinking she was making the mistake of a lifetime. Okay, maybe not the
whole
twenty-five years of her life, because God knew she’d made some
doosies
when she was a teenager, but certainly the biggest in the last couple of months. She’d looked for Emilio and Rachel before leaving the mansion, hoping one of them would talk some sense into her, but apparently they’d hooked up or already headed out.

What was she doing? She could count on one hand the number of partners she’d had. Now she was considering a one-night stand with a stranger she’d just met? On the short drive over, Deirdre talked herself out of anything more than some idle banter and a cup of coffee. Going further than that would be complicated and deceptive. Besides, she still had a forty-five minute drive home.

“Pull in right next to me,” Austin yelled and waved her into an empty parking spot. He jogged around to her door, holding it open. “Welcome to my humble abode. Well, not mine exactly. I’m just renting it while I do some business here in Cutler.”

He took her hand and led her to his condo, a New England style two floor
affair
in random clusters of four residences, each of them covered in gray cedar shingles. Mums in shades of orange and yellow lined both sides of the cement walk. The circle of light from the sconces on either side of the red door illuminated a well-manicured lawn, weeded gardens, and well-trimmed hedges. Good landscaping.

“Get your head in the game, Dee.” She didn’t know she’d said it out loud until Austin paused with the key in the lock.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.
I was just admiring the grounds.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice place.” He looked back over his shoulder as he opened the door for her.

The condo they entered was utilitarian, the living room furniture leather and heavy wood and very masculine. The whole first floor was visible from the front door where she stood frozen, too flustered by her own audacity to move. Austin closed the door and stepped around her, heading to the other side of the condo and into the small kitchen area.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He ducked his head into the fridge, his jeans pulling snug across a nicely curved ass. “I don’t have much.
Coffee.
Water.
Wine.”
He stood up and looked at her. She almost giggled at the way he tilted his head to one
side, sort of that
lost puppy, take-me-home kind of look. His blue eyes mirrored her confusion.

“Deirdre, can I get you anything?”

Yeah, those luscious lips between my thighs.
Deirdre shook her head.
Coffee.
She was here for a cup of coffee before she drove home.
Nothing more.
But her body was screaming for something else.

“Wine sounds nice.”

“A New York Riesling or an Australian Pinot Noir?”
Austin held up two bottles.

No, just coffee.
She couldn’t drive home with more alcohol in her system. It was rutting season and even this late at night the moose would be on the move. Her little Toyota truck was no match for one of those behemoths. “Whichever one is white,” she said, wondering why she was letting her body make all the decisions.

Deirdre walked over to the stereo system, perusing the CDs haphazardly strewn about on the receiver. It was the only thing out of place in his condo.

“I have Mozart and Def Leopard and everything in between. Choose your poison.” Austin’s voice washed over her shoulder as he stepped up behind her. She could feel the heat of his chest against her back. Not the soft, round, plump feeling of a woman, but the steel power of a man. Heat shot through her veins, hitching her breath and pressing her nipples against her lace bra.

She took the glass he offered, moving to the couch and away from the intoxicating scent of his spicy cologne.

“Something quiet.” she said. “After the loud bands at the party, it would be nice.” Actually, she needed something to soothe her pulsing nerves. “You live here long?” Deirdre sipped the wine, grateful Austin’s attention on the stereo kept him from seeing her shaking hand. What was she doing here?

“A few months.
I have some business up and down the coast. When it’s over I’ll head back to Boston.” He turned and lifted his glass of ice water. “Here’s to enjoying the beautiful Maine autumn.”

“You’re not drinking?”

“Too many wild nights.
I’m giving my liver a rest.”

The quiet strains of piano music filled the room. She recognized the artist as one of her father’s favorites. Immediately, her brooding thoughts turned to her family.

There had been so many nights in the last few months she’d sat with her father in the quiet of their home in town. She and her two sisters rotated nights, giving their mother a short reprieve from the hopelessness of growing old. Deidre couldn’t count the number of times she’d played the CDs, hoping to give him strength and courage in the memory of who he once was. But it seemed he’d given up on life. Now, they all watched as his body withered its way to death.

“…Deirdre, yoo-hoo, you okay?” Austin was bent over, intently staring into her eyes, only inches from her nose.

“Sorry, Austin.
Drifted off for a moment.
What were you saying?”

“I was talking about my consulting firm, but obviously that put you to sleep.” He sat on the leather couch, lacing his fingers through hers, pulling her down next to him. “Sit. Enjoy the wine and the music.”

Though Deirdre had had only two one-night stands in her lifetime, one in college, and of course, Bobby, she could distinguish genuine interest from lust. It was concern she saw in the cobalt pools of Austin’s eyes and the gentle curve of his mouth. She leaned against him seeking solace in the solid feeling of his body.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked, rubbing his lips in her hair.

“About what?”

“Wherever you went just a minute ago.”

She didn’t know this man. She shouldn’t want to tell him about her father. It was such a private matter. But as Austin’s fingers stroked along her thigh, Deirdre longed to have someone other than her family understand the emotional burden she slogged around. Oh, Rachel and Emilio knew, but no one seemed to
really
understand what it meant to be losing her father to some illness his doctor could neither name nor cure.

Inhaling his warm, masculine scent, Deirdre sought comfort in the soft heat of Austin’s touch. Sex was the furthest thing from her mind. It appeared to be unimportant to Austin as well. Which was just as well since she’d convinced herself when she got here that sleeping with the man was out of the question. Spilling her guts to this random guy, whose libido would surely plunge with the depressing story, would guarantee she’d never have to see him again. Besides, at the moment it wasn’t a sex partner she needed, but a compassionate ear, and the man snuggled next to her fit the bill.

Sipping thoughtfully from her wine, she let the sadness roll over her.

“It’s nothing more than a lot of people go through with aging parents.” She shook her head, remembering her father from when she was young, heading off to work in the morning, his briefcase in his hand, a smile on his face. She wanted him back.

“My father’s getting old, and well, he’s not aging gracefully. We’re not sure what’s wrong with him. He had a heart attack several months ago, and he just seems to have lost the will to live. He’s confused a lot of the time, and the doctors think it may be the early onset of Alzheimer’s.” Deirdre lifted her shoulder and sipped from her glass. “It’s been a rough time for our family, but mostly my mum. They’re coming up on their fortieth anniversary. I don’t think he’ll remember the celebration, let alone his wedding day. I just can’t imagine how hard it is on her. I’m impressed how resilient she’s been through this whole thing. I can only hope I have half as much courage and fortitude to help someone I love…you know…through a rough time.”