The Rebel (12 page)

“So what do you want?” she asked, not bothering to hide the acrimony in her voice.

“First of all, tell the guests to keep their children out of my kitchen. Twice this past week, I've been at the stove and some kid's come running in, looking for something to eat. They stay out of my space, got it?”

There was some serious tension in his voice and she wondered what it was all about. She could fully understand the safety issue, but she sensed there was something more.

“You don't like kids, do you?”

“Second, if business continues to be strong for another week, I want to hire a line cook. Nothing fancy and we could probably just find one through the want ads. George has come a long way, but he needs supervision and I don't want him hurt.”

Nice avoidance of the question, she thought. Though the tone in his voice answered it well enough.

The man didn't want a wife. Didn't want children.

No wonder he was so comfortable with casual sex.
It was either that or the life of a monk. And given the strength of his sex drive, she couldn't imagine he'd spend a single moment considering a life of celibacy.

“I have one more demand.” Nate drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “If I stay, I want to spend some time with you. Alone.”

Her head whipped around so fast, she pulled a neck muscle. “What?”

Nate watched her jerk to attention. “I think you heard me.”

In the silence that ensued, she stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. Hell, maybe he had.

But that just meant he was a crazy man with some serious leverage. She needed him. And he knew what he wanted in return. He'd tried the direct route with her and been shut down. He'd tried ignoring the attraction. Yeah, right, that had worked. So maybe he could strike a deal.

“I am not going to sleep with you to keep my house,” she told him flat out.

Ouch.
That wasn't what he meant.

“Damn, woman, you really know how to throw an insult, don't you,” he muttered. “Do you have a piss-poor opinion of all men or is it just me in particular?”

“Come on, what am I supposed to think? You remind me that we're not supposed to be friends and
then want to spend time with me. What are we going to do? Play Scrabble?”

Well, jeez, he wasn't an animal, for God's sake.

Nate measured the curve of her lips.

He wasn't a
total
animal.

And the reason he'd brought up the friends-only rule was to get her off the subject of his past. It was just a conversational obstacle he'd put up.

“All I want to do is go out with you a couple of times. No big deal. I'm talking dinner. And a movie, maybe. I'm not asking you to do the horizontal foxtrot.”

Although if there was even a shot of that—

“But I want to know what for.”

“Doesn't matter. It's what I want. Or do we need to review the balance of power between us again? Who needs who more?”

Her eyes narrowed on his. “I don't like you very much right now.”

“Duly noted. Now what's it going to be?”

She paused. Looked at her hands. Pushed down a cuticle. “How many times?”

“Every Tuesday night.”

Frankie started to shake her head. “I just don't understand you. Why would you—”

He reached across the seats, took her into her arms, and put his mouth on hers.

God, her lips were soft.

And when she didn't fight him, Nate groaned and
deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding up against hers. His body had gone from sitting quietly to straining against his clothes and the change happened in the blink of an eye.

But Frankie Moorehouse could do that to him.

When he finally pulled back so they could both get some air, his voice was hoarse. “
That
is why. And I'm not saying we have to have sex. But if I can't touch you, I'm going to lose my friggin' mind.”

Her hand lifted up and he wondered if she was going to slap him. But then he felt her touch on the back of his neck and she drew him down to her lips again.

Oh, sweet heaven, he thought.

He complied with her demand in a hungry rush, capturing her in a kiss that went on and on. When he felt her push against his chest, he kept his disappointment to himself.

“Take me home, Nate,” she said in a shaky voice.

Ah, hell. He'd done it again. Too far, too fast. He wasn't surprised that she'd pulled back, but frankly he didn't know where she found the strength.

He started the car while trying to remember how to drive and the trip to White Caps was silent and mercifully short. When they walked into the kitchen, Frankie headed directly for the stairs and he figured he'd let her go. He was in no hurry to be across the hall from her while she was undressing.

“Nate?”

He looked over his shoulder.

“Aren't you coming upstairs?” she said with one foot on the first step.

He shook his head. “I think it's better for us if I stay on the first floor for a while.”

Hell, maybe he should take up sleeping on the counter.

Frankie flushed. “Oh. Because that's not what I'm thinking.”

Nate stopped breathing. Was she telling him what he was dying to hear?

“I, ah, I thought we'd go up together.”

Without hesitating for a nanosecond, he bolted for the stairs, grabbing her hand and towing her along with him.

After she shut the door to her bedroom, he took her face in his hands and kissed her softly on the lips. He pulled back, thinking that he wanted to ask her why now, why tonight? But he kept his questions to himself because he had a feeling he wouldn't like the answers. She'd seen her ex-fiancé. With his children. She'd had a little more wine than usual. The change of heart made sense, but curiously, made him feel like hell. He would have preferred to be chosen, not used as a refuge or a distraction.

But he would take her anyway.

As if his doubts showed in his face, Frankie looked him straight in the eye. “You're the only man in this
room tonight, Nate. This isn't about seeing David. I've been thinking about making love with you since the moment you walked through my back door. I'm just tired of fighting it, I really am.”

Nate crushed her to him. He told himself to take it slowly, but he was so hungry that his hands were shaking as he stroked her back. He kissed her deep and long as he maneuvered her backward towards the bed and he almost shouted with joy as she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and yanked it free from his khakis. Desperate to be naked with her, he pulled back and whipped that polo off so fast, he was back at her mouth before the thing hit the floor.

And then they were on the bed. She was hot and restless under him as he slipped his hand under her skirt and dragged the fragile fabric up to her knees and then past her smooth thighs. Her hands were doing crazy things to his body, running over his back and slipping onto his ribs. He found the soft skin of her throat with his lips while parting her legs with his knee. As she cradled his hips with her own, he growled deep in his throat and concentrated on getting her naked.

However good he'd thought it would be between them, the reality blew the doors off his fantasies.

 

F
RANKIE REACHED BETWEEN THEM
and fumbled with the fly of his pants as Nate undid the buttons down the front of her blouse. He lifted himself from her
and kicked off the khakis while stripping off her shirt. She reached for the clasp of her bra, thinking she loved a man who could multitask.

“Oh, no, you don't,” he said, stilling her hands. “I want to do that.”

He kissed her again as he traced the lace edges of the bra with his fingertips, and his touch was gentle considering how frantic they both were. Her eyes met his. He was so hungry, she thought. The skin on his face was tight, as if he were in pain.

No man had ever looked at her like that. And she'd never imagined one would.

Cool air hit her breasts as he did away with the lace, and then the warmth of his palms was on her tender skin. She felt no modesty at all as his gaze fell upon her body. How could she? She saw herself reflected in his eyes, through the prism of his reverence and awe. In his arms, she was beautiful and she felt an absurd desire to thank him, but kissed him instead.

He nuzzled his way down her neck and over her collarbone, and then his lips brushed against the side of her breast. She arched up off the mattress as he took her nipple into his mouth, the warm, wet feel of his tongue making her cry out. He answered her with a groan of his own and reached underneath her, undoing the skirt. She pushed it off and entwined her legs with his, feeling the length of him pressing
into her, all hard demand. God, he was deliciously heavy.

Her panties disappeared and his boxers were gone, and then it was skin on skin, mouth on mouth, hands seeking and finding pleasure.

“Condom,” he mumbled against her neck. “We need a—oh, God! Touch me again like that.”

“Here?”

He let out a crazy moan. “Yeah. There.”

Condom? Did she even have one?

“I don't—” She didn't finish because he kissed her, tongue deep in her mouth.

“Have one?” he said, when he pulled back to catch his breath.

“Yeah, I haven't done this in a while.” If she had kept any around from her time with David, they would have turned to dust by now.

Nate leaped off her and jogged across the hall. “Let me see if I do.”

The curse word that floated out of his room didn't inspire confidence.

He came back. “There a pharmacy around here?”

“Not open this late.”

“Grocery store?”

She shook her head. “It's after ten.”

“Damn.”

He had a wild look on his face as he hesitated.
Then he kicked the door closed and stalked over to the bed. She welcomed him with open arms.

“I'm totally into safe sex,” she said, anticipation roaring through her. “But we don't have to—”

And then he suddenly stiffened against her. The lack of movement was a complete shock.

As she looked up, his eyes went dark, haunted. His face assumed a tortured expression, one that had nothing to do with the wanting.

What she'd been about to say was there were other ways for them to finish the evening off. Except now, all the heat appeared to have been sucked out of him. Out of the whole room.

“Nate?”

He seemed to shake himself from whatever had captured him.

“No buts,” he said hoarsely. “About safe sex.”

He kissed her again, but it wasn't the same. Something had taken him away.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

He rolled over onto his back, tucking her into his side. His hand stroked her shoulder, but it was a restless movement.

“Nate?”

His eyes were focused somewhere across the room.

“It's all right. Whatever it is,” she said.

He finally looked at her. And she realized he
was measuring her, although against what she wasn't sure.

“I'm really sorry,” he said. “But I need to go.”

Even though she'd been undressed for the last half hour, she suddenly felt naked and pulled her top sheet around her body. “Okay.”

He got off the bed, picked up his clothes and left.

N
ATE DROPPED HIS SHIRT AND
pants on the floor and paced around his room naked. It was no big surprise that he'd come unglued.

Seeing that little girl with her daddy. Having Frankie suggest they could have sex without protection. And boom!…he was right back in the nightmare.

He sat down on the bed, put his head in his hands, and tried to breathe.

How old would his child have been now? Three. He or she would have been three.

If only Celia hadn't ended the pregnancy. If only he'd been the rich man she'd thought he was—

There was a soft knock on the door.

He pulled on some boxers. “Yeah.”

He didn't look up as the hinges creaked. He knew who it was.

“I just wanted to make sure you're okay.” Frankie's voice was warm, concerned.

He had to give her credit. There were few women who would handle the transition from hot and bothered to cold and deserted so well.

“Are you?” she whispered.

He wasn't going to lie to her so he kept his mouth shut. Because he wasn't okay. He hadn't been okay for a while although he'd gotten damn good at hiding it.

He felt the mattress dip down slightly as she sat next to him. She'd pulled on jeans and a long T-shirt.

“If you want to talk…”

“No.” Because damn it, he was on the verge of tears. And there was no way he was going to cry in front of her. Going limp in her bed was enough of a cringer for one night.

“That's all right.” She let out a small laugh. “I know all about keeping things inside as you've witnessed firsthand. So I'm good with silence.”

He didn't answer her, but reached out and took her hand in his. Her skin was smooth, soft. He stroked his thumb over the pad of her palm.

“You know what?” she said.

“Hmm?”

“We keep this up, we might just get to be friends after all.”

He looked over at her. She'd left her glasses back in her room. God, her eyes were lovely. So blue. A bottomless blue. He had the sudden impulse to get lost in her eyes, just let himself float away and trust that she would catch him. He opened his mouth.

Ah, hell. He couldn't do it. “I'm sorry, Frankie.”

She reached up and brushed his hair back. “You've got nothing to be sorry for.”

“That's where you're wrong.”

“I don't care that we stopped. Well, I do. But I wouldn't want you to be with me if you had doubts.”

Doubts? About being with her? He'd been so into her, he'd almost said to hell with the condom. And that was at the core of what killed him. That he'd been so tempted to throw out common sense just because he wanted her so badly.

Considering all he'd lost, you'd figure he would have learned something.

Self-hatred burned in his gut. With Celia, he'd been careless. With Frankie, he'd been close to losing control. Neither spoke well of him as a man.

“Will you let me stay with you awhile?” she asked. “Not to have sex or anything. Just to, you know, hold you.”

“Yeah.” He'd like that.

Nate leaned back against the pillow and she curled up at his side. Her breath drifted across his bare chest and her hand rested on his waist lightly. He crossed his feet at the ankles and closed his eyes. Her presence eased him.

“Now I know how hard it is,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Wanting to help and not being able to.”

He kissed her temple. “You are helping.”

 

F
RANKIE SHIFTED, FELT HER
thigh brush against warm, male skin and came awake instantly. She looked up into Nate's face. His beard had grown in overnight, darkening the thrust of his jaw. His hair was smudged this way and that. His eyes were open, lids low.

“Good morning,” he said with a gravel voice.

“Hi.”

The reserve hadn't left him. She still felt as though he was reining himself in. And as much as she still wanted to know what had happened, she wasn't about to ask him again. She hated when people did that to her.

“Guess it's time for breakfast.” She shifted upright, swung her legs over the edge of the mattress and felt the cool pine boards under her feet. “It's going to be a busy week for us. We've got a whole family arriving today and…”

She chattered on, her voice sounding false to her own ears. But then that tended to be the end result when you were talking about one thing and thinking about another.

Did last night really happen? Was there actually a time they had been so close? Yeah, but only physically and that was the easiest way, wasn't it? Which was why people had one-night stands. No strings, but just enough intimacy to remind you that you could in fact relate to another human being.

“Frankie?”

She stopped mid-sentence.

“Last night ended because—” He rubbed his temples. “It doesn't have anything to do with you.”

So he said.

“It's all right. Really. Probably for the best, too.” She walked over to the door. “See you downstairs.”

His eyes bored into hers. “Yeah. Downstairs.”

But they didn't spend much time together that morning. He was busy at the stove, she was working in her office. But at least on the few occasions she passed through the kitchen, he looked up, met her eyes and nodded.

She was back at her desk, reviewing with satisfaction the way the dinner reservations were getting tight, when the phone rang.

“Is Nate there?” It was a deep male voice. Hint of an accent she couldn't quite place.

“Yes. Who's calling?” She blurted out the question on reflex, but she was really interested in the answer.

“Spike.” The man's tone suggested impatience.

And considering the guy was named after a piece of hardware, she put two and two together and decided he probably wasn't into small talk.

“Hold on.”

She called into the kitchen and Nate came right away, wiping his hands on the white apron he'd tied around his lean hips. She tried to keep her eyes from bouncing to his wide chest, and failed. His T-shirt
was navy blue and had a worn logo on it, but all she could really see was the way his muscles had looked the night before, shifting under his skin as he'd held himself over her body while kissing her breasts.

Frankie got to her feet, wondering if he'd want privacy. Although even if he didn't, she needed a little air.

“Stay,” he said as he picked up the phone. She sank back into her chair. “What's up? Where? Yeah, I know the place. When are you seeing it? How much they want for it?”

A couple of uh-uh's and another yeah followed. He hung up the phone, thanked her for getting him and left.

Frankie looked out at the lake, thinking that the reminder was a good one. Nate was a short timer at White Caps. As soon as Labor Day came, he was going back to the city to find his destiny as the next Bobby Flay. And one day, a few years from now, she was going to crack open a magazine and read about the new, hit restaurant in New York City. There'd be a picture of him and she'd stare at it for a while, thinking what might have been if they'd made love. But
might have been
was better than knowing exactly what she was missing. Right?

Oh, what a load of bull. She wanted him. Even if he was leaving. Even if it was going to hurt later.

“Frankie?” Nate was back, standing in the doorway of the office. “You got a second?”

She nodded and was surprised when he closed the door. Her body tensed, but she kept her expression as neutral as possible. She wondered if he was going to quit.

“I really appreciate you giving me some space.” He dragged a hand through his hair.

She laughed stiffly. “You look like you're about to apologize for something.”

“I am.”

“Well, please don't.” She didn't really want to hear about how he regretted getting what he'd asked for.

He grew quiet. Then took a deep breath.

“Okay. But I want you to know something. I'm dying to be with you. Tonight. Now. Right now.” His eyes leveled on hers and they burned. “Would you consider giving me a second chance?”

Good Lord, was Santa Claus a fat man in a red suit? Of course, she would.

She got up from the chair because her body suddenly needed to move. Anticipation had replaced the dread she'd felt and the sweet rush was a hell of an improvement.

“Well, ah, it was pretty good,” she said, trying not to come across as desperate. Although what an understatement that was.

Hell, with the door closed, she was tempted to sweep her computer off the desk just so they had a flat space to get busy on.

“It was a hell of a lot more than good for me,” he said in a low, sexy tone.

Frankie looked at him, remembering the feel of him against her. “I want more of you,” she said softly. “God help me. But I want more.”

Nate came around the back of the desk and took her into his arms, pulling her against his body. With his hands on her hips, he drew her in close and she felt his arousal.

“So do I.” His voice was deep, husky.

She put her hands against his chest and held him back. “But I don't expect you to stay once September gets here. This is just casual sex, okay?”

That was a lie, of course. She liked him. She really did, even though he was arrogant and demanding and she didn't know enough about him.

When the fall came, she was going to have a big clean-up job to take care of after he'd left, but she wasn't about to try and tie him down just so she felt better about sleeping with him. First of all, she was an adult, which meant she was fully capable of making a bad decision and having to live with the consequences. And second, he didn't owe her anything. Two and a half weeks ago they'd been total strangers and in another five or so, he would go back out into the world on his own.

“This is only casual sex,” she repeated, as much for her own benefit as his.

Nate's eyes blinked once. “Whatever you say.”

“So, are you going to the pharmacy or am I?”

 

T
HAT NIGHT THE RESTAURANT
was a madhouse. People were actually waiting for tables and Nate was in his element. She'd never seen someone work so fast or so well.

At the end of the evening, even though she was wilted from all the work, she went to her office to add up the receipts. She had to go through them twice. They'd done five thousand dollars worth of business.

Was it possible that miracles really did happen?

When the phone rang, she picked up. “White Caps.”

There was static and then, “Frankie?”

“Alex! Where are you?”

“Heading for home, believe it or not.” More static. “—be there in about a week.”

“A week?”

“—then we're heading back out—America's Cup training—”

“Alex?”

“—better go now. See you soon.”

“I can't wait to see you!”

“Same h—” The connection broke.

She hung up the phone smiling.

“Who was that?”

She looked across the room. Nate was leaning against the doorjamb. He'd taken a shower and changed into cut-offs and his hair was wet, curling against his neck.

“Ah—my brother. He's coming for a visit.” She got to her feet, feeling awkward.

Nate stared at her from under low lids, anticipation coming off of him in waves, but she wasn't exactly sure how this was supposed to work between them. He answered the question by striding into the room and putting his hands on her waist.

“It's late. We should get to bed.”

She slid her arms around his neck. “Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing.”

Upstairs, she drew him into her bedroom and had a moment of trepidation as he undressed her. But the moment they fell onto her bed and his body was on hers, she stopped thinking. The sensations he roused as he suckled her breasts and swept his hand between her legs were all her brain could handle.

What a lover he was. Relentless, he pleasured her over and over again until she didn't think it was possible for her to climax one more time. Unfortunately, he refused to let her reciprocate. Every time she tried to reach for him, he stayed just out of range. He was generous to the point of frustration and she had a feeling he was making up for leaving the night before.

But his pleasure was hers.

“Why can't I touch you?” she moaned, trying to get to his erection.

His voice was rough in her ear. “Because I'm going to come the instant you do. God, I'm so hot for you.”

And then he went back to work on her.

The only time he paused was to put the condom on.

His body was taut over hers as he came back to her. She reached for his hips to pull him down, but he resisted, resting his forehead on hers. His breath was ragged.

“Frankie, look at me. I want to see your eyes.”

And then he sank into her body, filling her, stretching her. He was slow at first but then his thrusts gained power until she was climaxing again. As her body grabbed onto his, he went rigid, her name torn out of his throat.

 

A
S DAWN CAME
, N
ATE
rolled over, pulling Frankie tightly against his body. He had to get up in a matter of minutes to start breakfast and wanted to savor the quiet moment.

She stirred in his arms. “Is it morning already?” Her voice was groggy as she rubbed her eyes. “Unfortunately.”

They'd made love twice more during the night and had fallen asleep only an hour before, but Nate felt like he could run a marathon.

He trailed his hand down the smooth plane of her stomach and then onto her thigh. “You know something?”

“What?”

Nate shut his mouth. He was going to say he
could really get used to waking up next to her, but he thought about her casual-only limits.

Hell, his own casual-only limits.

As he kept his lips zipped, he thought, well, wasn't this was a new one. Usually women wanted him to talk to them and he had nothing to say. Or nothing they'd want to hear, to be more accurate.