Unfinished Business (13 page)

 
Christy tried concentrating on the report she was reading and not on the huge vase of mixed flowers that had arrived less than an hour ago. To say the delivery had gotten “oohs” and “ahhs” from her co-workers would be an understatement. Since most of them had assumed she wasn’t involved with anyone seriously, she had seen a lot of speculation in their eyes. Only Shemell had had the courage to come right out and ask who had sent the flowers.

Alex.

Christy sighed deeply, feeling a quiver in her midsection just thinking about him. After declaring he intended for her to fall back in love with him, and that he wouldn’t make love to her until she did, he had stood in her apartment and had kissed her last night for almost a full half hour.

And she had enjoyed every single minute.

She had taken profound pleasure in watching how the angle of his face deepened right before he kissed her, how desire, deep and intense, flamed his eyes, sending a multitude of sensual sensations through her that were similar to the ones she was feeling now.

Something about the way he had kissed her last night was different, and it had taken a full night of tossing and turning to figure out just what the difference was. She had awakened that morning excruciatingly aware that Alex Maxwell had a game plan.

He was trying to possess her.

And he was using the oldest trick known to man: Break down her defenses and her heart would soon follow.

She shook her head and couldn’t help but smile. He would discover that when it came to her, pleasure and possession didn’t go hand in hand. She’d take great enjoyment in knocking him off that high horse he was riding.

A streak of pure sneaky delight flowed through her. She knew that no matter what, Alex would never intentionally take advantage of her. He had proven it the night he’d refused her advances when she’d been under the influence. But she wondered just how tough his resistance was if she pushed it to the max. He wanted to date her and start off tonight by taking her out to dinner and dancing, believing he was in full control of her eventual seduction. Well, she intended to show him that she was a force to reckon with.

With her decision made, she turned her attention back to the Patterson case. She had reread the article about Detective Mark Tyler and decided it was time for her to fly to Philly and ask questions.

She put down the report when her telephone rang, and quickly picked it up. “Christy Madaris.”

“It’s Alex.”

Her heart began racing. She swallowed. “Hi, and thanks for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just calling to see if you’re in the mood for Mexican food tonight.”

She quickly decided that two could play his game. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be ready to go when you get there.”

She waited, knowing she had thrown him a curve. He had expected her to dig in her heels, refuse to go out with him, and because she was now being so agreeable and accommodating, his instincts would push him to act on the side of caution by proceeding carefully.

“All right, I’ll see you at six,” he finally said.

She chuckled softly to herself. “Good-bye, Alex.”

When she hung up the phone, the thrill of predestined victory surged through her. Her mind began whirling with devious plots.

Alex wouldn’t know what hit him.

Alex took a deep breath as he stood in Christy’s doorway. He stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him, his gaze locked on hers. She stood smiling benignly, her eyes filled with total innocence while everything else about her spelled the words “set-up.”

He was inclined to go along with whatever plan she had devised just to see how far she would take it . . . and from the looks of things she wouldn’t hesitate to take it as far as she deemed necessary.

He allowed his gaze to skim over her from head to toe. She was wearing a dress that was so tight it seemed to have been painted on her body. To say the clingy material was plastered to her curves would be an understatement. He almost swallowed his tongue when he saw no panty line, so he knew she had to be bare under that thing.

Then there was the length of the dress. It was shorter than any other dress he’d ever seen her wear. She definitely had the legs to pull it off. Not every woman could make that claim but Christy Madaris could. And very boldly.

It was the kind of dress she was meant to be stripped out of. It became clear what Christy was trying to do—drive him out of his mind. And the way his body was responding, she was doing just that.

He swallowed. “You look nice tonight, Christy,” he finally decided to say, trying to get a grip but finding it hard to do so.

“Thank you,” she said, tilting her head to look up at him.

His gaze roamed over the dress again. “That shade of blue. Is there a name for it?”

Christy looked down at herself. Then her gaze lifted to his and she said, “I call it shocking blue.”

Alex just nodded dumbly. He could understand why. Personally, he would call it arousing blue. He decided to shift his concentration to something else, and his gaze moved to the huge vase of flowers on a nearby table. The arrangement did something to the entire room. When he glanced over at Christy and saw her watching him, he thought that she did something to the entire room as well.

Without thinking twice about it, with a slow, purposeful stride he covered the distance separating them, his gaze holding steady on hers. He came to a stop and leaned down and his lips settled warmly, yet firmly on hers.

When her mouth parted beneath his, a groan rumbled from deep within his chest as his tongue swept from one part of her mouth to the next. He fought back a case of raging hormones and could tell from the way she was responding that she was enjoying their kiss. The soft texture of her lips, along with the heated sweetness of her tongue, was making it hard for him to stay in control, but he knew that he had no choice but to do so.

Moments later, forcing himself to pull away, he whispered against the moistness of her lips, “I still want to go dancing after dinner.”

“OK.”

He lifted a brow. Her capitulation had been too quick, too easy, too unlike a Madaris. He sighed deeply. He wasn’t sure just what Christy had up her sleeve but was confident when the time came he would find out.

Alex shifted around in his chair. Christy was taking the phrase “do him before he does me” to great heights. The only problem was that he wasn’t
doing
her. He had made it pretty clear last night that he wanted her love before taking care of his lust. She was making him suffer, and if he didn’t know better he would swear she had taken the course
How to Torture a Man 101
.

He had to fight back the bout of temporary insanity that invaded his body every time she licked her lips. And if that wasn’t bad enough, then there was the way she sipped her drink through her straw, the way her lips moved in such a provocative sucking motion. He could see her applying that same erotic technique to a kiss.

Then there were the other less than subtle things, like intentionally brushing up against him every chance she got, and the way her lush body had deliberately pressed up against his whenever they had danced, actually making his skin burn through the material of his pants. During several slow numbers, her hips had been nearly plastered against his and her hardened nipples had all but dug into his chest, arousing his body even more.

He fought back the memory that it had been over three years since he had slept with a woman. Every once in a while some reminder would creep into his mind, but his intense workload had kept the memory at bay. But now, especially tonight, he was being reminded full force.

He wanted Christy.

And he was very much aware that she knew it and was probably basking in the knowledge that he could want to his heart’s content but he would not touch.

He tried to ignore the heat burning within him with the feel of her dallying with his leg under the table, sliding her toe sensuously up and down his pants leg. The thickness of his pants was no barrier to the wantonness of her touch, and he wondered if she had any idea of the fire she was playing with. He glanced across the table at her, raised one brow. She raised two, deliberately letting him know she was fully aware of just what her naughtiness was doing to him.

He shifted in his seat, grounding his restraint even more. “Any new developments in the Patterson case?” he asked after taking a sip of his drink to cool off.

Christy smiled. She knew Alex was fighting his attraction to her. She was playing the role of seductress to the hilt, and although he hadn’t broken yet, she figured it would only be a matter of time before he did. He was working too hard not to. But still, she hadn’t missed the way he had held her while they had danced. She had been aware of his aroused state the moment he had taken her into his arms. She had deliberately plastered her body against his, and each time she rocked her hips against him she had heard the gritting of his teeth at the same time she had felt the enlargement of his erection.

She had met his gaze and saw the heated look of desire in his eyes, and each breath he had taken had shuddered with need. The woman in her had picked up on all those things, making a mental note of them, determined to use them to her advantage.

First he had taken her to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. Then he had brought her here to this nightclub with a live band. The inside of the place was cozy and intimate and the sexual chemistry that flowed between her and Alex was heated and intense. Deadly combinations.

“Christy?”

She glanced up. “Yes?”

“I asked if there were any new developments in the Patterson case?”

She took a sip of her drink and met his gaze. At the moment, the Patterson case was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Instead she wanted to know how much longer he would be able to handle her bold advances. She had slipped her shoes off and even now her toes were running up the length of his pants leg. She was intent on wearing down his control no matter what it took. She was secure in knowing she could do all the pouncing, but he wouldn’t pounce back.

“I’m flying to Philly tomorrow to ask questions,” she finally answered.

Alex nodded. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to Philadelphia.”

He watched her eyes narrow when what he was alluding to became clear. “Which means?”

He smiled. “I’d like to go with you.”

She sat up in her chair, her back ramrod straight; all thoughts of seduction immediately fled her mind. “Look, Alex, I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want you interfering with this investigation.”

“And I thought that I made it clear that my wanting to spend time with you has nothing to do with your work. You’re the reason I’m here in Cincinnati, and if you take off somewhere, I don’t intend to sit around twiddling my thumbs until you return,” he said with frustration clear in his tone.

She frowned, sharpened her gaze. “I don’t have time for you, Alex. My work is keeping me busy.”

“Then I suggest you learn how to multitask so you can deal with me as well as your job, because I don’t see either going away any time soon.”

She lifted her chin and glared. “Wanna bet?”

He smiled and shot back. “How much?”

Christy frowned. He was as arrogant and conceited as they came and he was deliberately being difficult. She felt her temperature rise in warning degrees, and with their eyes locked, she felt their clashing of wills, their direct opposition. Neither intended to give an inch. He thought he could change her mind about the way she felt about him, and she was just as certain that he could not.

“Besides,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, “I can be of assistance by renting a plane to fly us there.”

She sighed deeply. She had forgotten that like her brothers, he had his pilot license. “Don’t put yourself out on my account.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than take you flying with me.”

She met his gaze. “This is not a pleasure trip.”

“Maybe it won’t be for you, but it will for me. I can’t think of anything but pleasure whenever I’m with you.”

“Tell me,” she said softly, her voice filled with the frustration she felt. “How long do you plan to play this game, Alex?”

He leaned in closer over the table and she watched the intensity that was there in his eyes burn in their dark depths. Her breath caught when the strength of that heat touched her on a primitive level.

“If this appears to be a game, Christy, it’s because you’ve made it one. In all your stubborn, defiant, and unforgiving ways you have deemed that I should suffer for the deeds of that one night. My goal is to show you that all the things you wanted then I will gladly place at your feet now.”

The stubbornness, the defiance, and the inability to forgive—the very things he had just addressed, swelled within Christy. “It’s too late. I no longer want those things.”

A part of Alex refused to believe that. He could not. “I need to show you that you still want them, and so do I, Christy,” he said softly.

His heart clenched at the hurt and pain he still saw in her eyes whenever they discussed that night. “I made mistakes but I’m willing to do whatever I have to do to correct them,” he said, softer still. “I refuse to give up on you and what we can have together. Please open your heart and meet me halfway.”

Christy’s jaw tightened. “No. Like I said, it’s too late.” She placed her napkin aside. “I’m ready for you to take me home, Alex,” she said as she stood.

He got to his feet and signaled the waiter for their check. “And I’m ready to take you home as well.”

And he doubted that she was prepared for what he intended to do when they got there.