No Place Like Home, page 15
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked cautiously.
“All this handling. First Ted, and then a drunk.” He slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “I watched you all night, wishing I could do a little handling, too.”
She shivered despite the warm evening air. “I know,” she said, snuggling closer, glad he’d waited for her. She hadn’t been alone with him since the night at his house earlier in the week.
She’d been completely professional at work, careful to keep a safe distance from him.
It was driving her insane.
He slid his hand beneath the short sleeve of her blouse and rubbed one finger against her skin. She had to bite her lip to hold back a gasp. They were walking down the sidewalk, in plain view, but his touch was intimate. Private.
She wound her arm around his waist and leaned into him, breathing in the smell of leather jacket and spicy soap. Every time her thigh grazed his, he seemed to tense a little more.
Suddenly he swung her into an alley and out of the glare of the streetlights. In the shadows between buildings, he pushed her against a wall and kissed her with desperation.
They were pressed together from knee to chest as they kissed, the hard planes and muscles of his body sinking into her softness. As his tongue stroked hers, his body moved in time with it and she rocked her hips against him, eager to get closer.
He groaned into her mouth and cupped her rear in his hands, lifting her into him. She wound one leg around his, trying to climb into his skin.
“Hey, Bobby, look who it is. The bitch who threw us out of The Lake House.”
Bree jerked away from Parker to see two men standing a couple of feet away, swaying on their feet. It was the drunk from earlier in the evening and his friend.
The first man leered at her. “You know, I figured out where I’d seen you before. I never forget an ass.”
She sucked in a breath, afraid of what he would say next. She’d been a stripper so long ago…and it had been nowhere near Spruce Lake. He couldn’t possibly recognize her.
“Neither do I, pal,” Parker said, and punched him in the mouth.
The guy staggered backward, his hands covering his nose, and bumped into the building. “What’d ya do that for?” he yelped in a muffled voice. “Looks like you like her ass, too.”
Parker clenched his fist again, but Bree grabbed his arm. “Don’t,” she said. “He’s not worth the trouble.”
His jaw working, Parker stared at the man for a moment, then towed Bree out of the alley and up the street.
Finally he slowed down. “Are you sure you need that job at The Lake House?” he asked, his voice tight.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I wish you hadn’t heard that. But I don’t take it personally, and you shouldn’t, either. It’s part of the job.” Thank God the drunk hadn’t said anything more.
“I shouldn’t take it personally when someone is disrespectful to you? Did you really expect me to walk away?”
He turned as if he might go back and punch the jerk again. Unbearably touched, she grabbed the front of his jacket with both hands. “Thank you, Parker.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth, sighing when his arms closed around her. “For standing up for me. For punching that guy.”
No one had ever stood up for her before. No one had thought she’d needed protecting.
She wanted to stay in Parker’s arms forever, savoring his strength. Keeping the world at bay.
He framed her face with his hands, and the glitter in his eyes wasn’t outraged anymore. “I think you need to thank me again,” he murmured.
She kissed him once more, lingering this time, then grabbed his hand when he flattened it against her belly. “I can see the next headline in the Gazette. ‘Local Professor Picked Up for Public Indecency,” she teased as they began walking again. “Wouldn’t that look good in your press clippings.”
“I don’t have press clippings.”
“The Orchid Hunter doesn’t keep press clippings? Oh, please.”
“I’m not a publicity hound, Bree,” he insisted. Parker sounded almost sad, as if it hurt that she would think so.
She slowed. “You know, I believe you.”
“You seem surprised.”
“My father was the king of publicity hounds. It kind of colors your perception.”
“Not all men are like your dad.”
“Thank God.” She tucked her arm into Parker’s, letting his closeness warm her inside and out. “You spent a lot of time in The Lake House tonight.”
“I wanted to see you.” He dropped a kiss on her hair. “I shouldn’t have groped you in the alley. That was…out of control.”
They were nearing her house. “Do you want to get together tomorrow night?” she suggested.
“I have to go to Chicago tomorrow. I’m giving a presentation at the Field Museum, and schmoozing with donors.”
“That should be fun,” she said, trying to sound convincing. Would they ever have time alone?
“It’s work,” he said. “But I could come back early on Sunday.” He walked up the stairs with her. “We could have dinner.”
“I’d like that.”
Fiona had left the porch light on, a warm yellow glow in front of the door. Parker tugged her into the shadows in the corner. “Good night,” he murmured.
Aware that Fiona’s and Charlie’s windows overlooked the front of the house, and that both were open, she whispered, “I’ll see you Sunday.”
She rose onto her toes to kiss him, and he wrapped his arms around her and met her mouth. Desire reignited instantly and hunger poured through them. Within moments she was aching for him. His erection burned into her and she knew she was trembling.
“Let me come in with you,” he whispered. “I can’t wait until Sunday. I’ve been thinking about you all week. About how you taste and how you feel.” He rocked his hips against her, and she gasped into his mouth.
“Please, Bree.”
When she found herself calculating how she could get him up to her room, trying to remember which was the squeaky stair, she tore herself away. “Parker,” she said, panting. “Stop. Charlie is in the room right next to mine. And Fiona is across the hall. Fee’s a light sleeper.”
“Come back to my house, then.”
“If I strolled in tomorrow morning, Charlie would know we’d spent the night together. He’s twelve.”
She knew the frustration she saw in Parker’s eyes was mirrored in her own. But as much as she wanted to go home with him, Charlie had to come first.
“Then come to Chicago with me tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll have an evening together. Our first date.”
They’d have the night, as well. “I’d love to,” she said quietly. “But Charlie’s still upset with me.”
“Maybe he needs some time to himself. And you need time away. So you can both cool off.”
“You’re being altruistic, right?” she said with a tiny smile.
“Nah. I want you some place where Charlie can’t interrupt us. Where nothing can interrupt us.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“You can help me schmooze the donors at the fund-raiser. Pretend it’s part of your job.” He sounded as desperate as he’d been in the alley. As desperate as she felt.
She wanted to go with him more than she’d wanted anything for a very long time. Felt a recklessness she’d hidden for too long. “If Charlie’s okay with it, I’ll see if Fee can watch him.”
“Parker kissed her palm. “I won’t leave for Chicago until I hear from you.”
“I should tell you I don’t put out on the first date,” she said, leaning into him.
“Is that right?” He kissed her again and she melted against him. “I bet I can change your mind,” he growled. After a few more minutes he broke away and pushed her toward the door. “But not tonight. You better get in the house before we’re arrested for public indecency.”
APPLAUSE FILLED the main hall of Chicago’s Field Museum of Natural History as Parker stepped off the podium. Bree had never seen him in a suit before, never seen him address the public, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He was beyond charismatic. The elegantly dressed crowd had hung on his every word.
But he hated asking for money, she realized. She saw his distaste.
She didn’t think anyone else had noticed. But she’d gotten to know him pretty well in the past few weeks.
Maybe she could help him out with that. After all, she’d learned something from her experience as an exotic dancer.
AS PARKER STEPPED DOWN from the podium, the first person he looked for was Bree. Not his largest donors, he realized uneasily. Not the people he should be focusing on.
He spotted her red hair in the middle of a crowd of people standing beneath Sue, the Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton that dominated the north end of the hall. Bree was animated, gesturing with her hands while she spoke, and he watched her for a moment.
She was stunning. There was no trace of the woman who worked in the college office in frumpy shirts and khaki pants. Tonight she wore a black silk tank top and a slim black skirt that showed off her fabulous legs. A green silk jacket clung to her curves and rippled like water when she moved. A diamond pendant nestled above a hint of cleavage.
He heard her low laugh as he edged closer. “It’s FeeMac Jewelry,” she said to a woman next to her. “Fabulous, isn’t it?”
“I love FeeMac,” the woman said fervently. “But I don’t think I’ve seen these pieces before.”
“They’re from her new line,” Bree replied. “She’s a big supporter of Dr. Ellison’s, you know. When she heard I was going to be here tonight, she insisted on lending them to me.”
“Really?” another woman murmured. “Fiona McInnes supports Dr. Ellison?”
“She knows what great work he does,” Bree said. “If you’re interested in donating to his foundation, we have information on the table over here.” She shepherded the women toward the display of photos and a description of his next expedition.
The men who’d been standing nearby watched as other women trailed after her. They weren’t looking at their respective partners, however. None of them could take their eyes off Bree.
Even Sue the dinosaur seemed to be watching her.
Two hours later, as another group of guests trickled out of the museum, Parker patted the bulge of checks in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. He’d never gotten so many donations at a fund-raiser before.
He’d never had Bree with him, that’s why. She’d worked the crowd like an expert, coaxing donations from almost all of them.
He glanced at Sue. “I bet she got a donation from you, too, didn’t she?”
Bree was talking to the Hortons. They regularly donated modest amounts to his expeditions, mostly because Shelley Horton loved his photographs. As Parker joined them, Jack Horton pressed a check into his hand.
“I was fascinated by your explanation of the studies they’re doing on that orchid you discovered. Bree was telling us about your funding needs for the next expedition. Go back to South America and find another new one.”
Parker glanced at the check and froze. There were a lot more zeroes than he’d expected.
“Thanks, Jack. Shelley. This is very generous.”
“Bree is very persuasive,” the woman said with a smile. “And our youngest finished college in May, so we’re feeling flush.”
“I’ll have to bring Bree to my events more often,” Parker said, tucking her arm through his. He felt her tense.
“You should. She’s quite the little rainmaker.” Jack winked at Bree. “How about joining us for dinner? Are you two free?”
Parker hesitated. He didn’t want to give up a moment of their time alone. But before he could answer, Bree said, “That sounds great, Jack.”
“Let’s go someplace where there’s dancing,” Shelley suggested happily.
“So we’re set,” Parker said lightly. Bree’s hand had tightened on his arm. “If it’s all right with you, Bree.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed, though her smile looked a tiny bit forced.
“It’s going to take me a while to pack up all my equipment,” he said to Jack. “Why don’t we pick a club, and you and Shelley go ahead. We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”
After a few minutes, they agreed on a popular night spot west of the Loop. As they watched the Hortons leave, Parker asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I haven’t danced in a long time.” She sounded subdued.
“Don’t worry about it.” He kissed her. “I’m not exactly Dancing with the Stars material myself. But tonight we have to celebrate. You were brilliant.”
“I enjoyed talking to your donors,” she said, her shoulders relaxing. “They were interesting people.”
He beat back a tiny, ridiculous spurt of jealousy. “They clearly liked talking to you. They were falling over themselves to donate money.”
She nudged him with her elbow. “They all want a piece of the Orchid Hunter.”
No, they’d wanted Bree’s attention. It was a little disconcerting to be the supporting actor at his own presentation. “They wanted a piece of you.”
“You are so full of it,” she said with a smile. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up and go to dinner. I’m starving.”
Clearly, she had no idea how charismatic she was. And the FeeMac diamonds she wore had nothing to do with it. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said. “You were the star tonight. I was just the nerd who’d taken the pictures.”
“So I’m your lucky charm?” She laughed, but there was a shadow in her eyes.
No wonder. She must be exhausted. Vowing to make it an early evening, he said, “Absolutely. You’re permanently in charge of my fund-raising. If you can get my donors to open their wallets like this at every event, I can spend a lot more time in South America. Do a lot more work.” He hugged her closely. “I’m so glad I brought you with me tonight.”
Bree was far more than a lucky charm. He ignored the niggling thought and draped his arm over her shoulders. “Let’s pack up, get some dinner and then see which one of us is the worse dancer.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
HE DEFINITELY WON THE worst-dancer contest, Parker thought as he watched Bree on the dance floor. Everyone else was watching her, too. She’d taken off the green silk jacket and her shoes, and had abandoned herself to the music.
She was both graceful and sensual, her body flowing from side to side, her hips swaying. Full of joy. She’d said it had been a long time since she’d danced, but she clearly hadn’t forgotten a thing. She moved as if every atom in her body felt the music and responded to it.
She’d been reluctant to step onto the hardwood floor at first, but Jack Horton had insisted. Finally, with an apologetic grimace at Parker, she’d let Jack lead her out.
Parker had politely asked Shelley to dance, but hardly glanced at his partner, training all his attention on Bree. He wanted to be dancing with her. Touching the smooth skin of her back. Feeling the slide of her silk skirt against her hip.
“She’s amazing,” Shelley said into his ear. “And you should be dancing with her yourself.” She smiled. “Jack’s only good for one dance, anyway. If he doesn’t go willingly, I’ll drag the old hound dog off the floor after this one.”
“I don’t think I’m in the same class as Bree,” Parker said.
“None of us are,” she agreed. “She’s a lovely young woman, Parker. You’re very fortunate.”
“I know.” He watched Bree laugh as Jack spun her around. The older man put one hand on her waist, and the sudden urge to rip Jack Horton’s head off shocked Parker. Their dance was harmless and innocent, but he couldn’t bear the sight of another man’s hands on Bree.
What did that say about him? He’d never been a jealous man.
“Oh, dear,” Shelley murmured, swallowing a laugh. “You have it bad, don’t you? Would you like me to cut in on Jack?”
“Don’t be silly, Shelley,” Parker said, feeling like an idiot as he dragged his attention back to his partner. He forced himself to grin. “I’m enjoying dancing with you.”
“You’re a sweet man, Parker, but if you were any more full of it, your eyes would be brown.” She sighed as the song ended. “Thank God.” She waded into the crowd, grabbed Jack and towed him back to their table.
Parker edged through the other couples and slid his arm around Bree’s waist. “I think you just hustled me. You said you weren’t much of a dancer.”
“I said I hadn’t danced in a long time,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“Looks like you’re making up for it now.”
“I’ve always loved to dance,” she said. The music started again, a number with a pounding rhythm, and she grabbed him. “Dance with me, Parker.”
They danced close together, their bodies brushing as they moved with the music. Bree bumped his hip gently with hers, then moved behind him and wriggled her rear against his. That brief stroke of her body, the tiny signal that she wanted him, too, was enough to demolish the last scrap of his control.
They were close to the edge of the dance floor, and he pulled her away from the other dancers. Backing her into a shadowy corner, he kissed her long and slow.
The music was too loud to hear over, but her moan vibrated in his mouth. When he stroked her tongue, her hands tightened on his shoulders. And when he pressed closer, she trembled against him.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, his lips at her neck.
“The Hortons,” she panted. “We can’t just leave them.”
“Watch me,” he said, nibbling her lower lip. She tasted like the wine she’d been drinking, tart and sweet at the same time. He eased away from her only enough to pull her close to his side.
Minutes later, after he’d told the Hortons he’d exhausted himself with all the dancing, they stepped onto the sidewalk outside the club. A lake breeze cooled the evening air, although the smell of hot asphalt and car exhaust remained from the day.
