She savored it, the taste of him, the firm, smooth texture of his mouth, and the quick, instinctive tightening of his hands on her shoulders.
Then she drew away, a bright, determined smile on her lips that gave no clue as to her own rocky pulse. “Good night, Nicholas.”
He didn’t move, not a single muscle, even after she shut the door in his face. It was the sound of his own breath whooshing out that broke the spell. He turned, walked slowly toward the elevators.
His cousin, he reminded himself. She was his cousin, not some sexy little number he could enjoy temporarily. He lifted a hand to push the button for the lobby, noticed it wasn’t quite steady, and cursed under his breath.
Cousins, he thought again. Who had a family history and a potential working relationship. No way he was going to forget that. No way in hell.
Chapter Three
“Hi, Rio.” Freddie balanced bag, purse and briefcase as she entered through the kitchen of Lower the Boom.
“Hey, little doll.” Busy with lunch preparations, Rio had both hands occupied himself. “What’s doing?”
“Nick and I are working together today,” she told him as she headed for the stairs.
“Be lucky if you don’t have to pull him out of bed by his hair.”
She only chuckled and kept going. “He said noon. It’s noon.” On the dot, she added to herself, maneuvering up the narrow, curved staircase. She gave the door at the top a sharp rap, waited. Tapped her foot. Shifted her bags. Okay, Nicholas, she thought, up and at ’em. After fighting the door open, she gave a warning shout.
In the silence that followed, she heard the faint sound of water running. In the shower, she decided, and, satisfied, carried her bundles into the kitchen.
She’d taken him seriously when he told her to bring food. Out of the bag she took deli cartons of potato salad, pasta salad, pickles and waxed-paper-wrapped sandwiches. After setting them out, she went on a search for cold drinks.
It didn’t take long for her to realize they had a choice between beer and flat seltzer. And that Nick’s kitchen was crying out for a large dose of industrial-strength cleaner.
When he came in a few minutes later, the sleeves of her sweater were pushed up and she was up to her elbows in steaming, soapy water.
“What’s going on?”
“This place is a disgrace,” she said without turning around. “You should be ashamed of yourself, living like this. I wrapped the medical experiments that were in the fridge in that plastic bag. I’d take them out and bury them if I were you.”
He grunted and headed for the coffeepot.
“When’s the last time you took a mop to this floor?”
“I think it was September 1990.” He yawned and, trying to adjust his eyes to morning, measured out coffee. “Did you bring food?”
“On the table.”
With a frown he studied the salads, the sandwiches. “Where’s breakfast?”
“It’s lunchtime,” she said between her teeth.
“Time’s relative, Fred.” Experimentally, he bit into a pickle.
With a clatter, Freddie set the last of the dishes she’d found crusted in the sink aside to drain. “The least you could do is go in and pick up some of the mess in the living room. I don’t know how you expect to work in this place.”
The tart taste of the pickle improved his spirits, so he took another bite. “I pick it up the third Sunday of every month, whether it needs it or not.”
She turned, fisted her hands on her hips. “Well, pick it up now. I’m not working in this pit, clothes everywhere, trash, dust an inch thick.”
Leaning back on the table, he grinned at her. Her hair was pulled back, in an attempt to tame it that failed beautifully. Her eyes were stormy, her mouth was set. She looked, he thought, like an insulted fairy.
“God, you’re cute, Fred.”
Now those stormy eyes narrowed. “You know I hate that.”
“Yeah.” His grin only widened.
With dignity, she ripped off a paper towel from a roll on the counter to dry her hands. “What are you staring at?”
“You. I’m waiting for you to pout. You’re even cuter when you pout.”
She would not, she promised herself, be amused. “You’re really pushing it, Nick.”
“It stopped you from ordering me around, the way you do with Brandon.”
“I do not order my brother around.”
Nick scooted around her to get one of the coffee mugs she’d just washed. “Sure you do. Face it, kid, you’re bossy.”
“I certainly am not.”
“Bossy, spoiled, and cute as a little button.”
To prove her own control, she took one long, deep breath. “I’m going to hit you in a minute.”
“That’s a good one,” Nick acknowledged as he poured coffee. “Sticking your chin up. It’s almost as good as a pout.”
For lack of something better, she tossed the balled paper towel so that it bounced off his head. “I came here to work, not to be insulted. If this is the best you can do, I’ll just go.”
He was chuckling as she started to storm by him. For the first time since she’d come to New York, he felt their relationship was back on the level where it belonged. Big-brotherly cousin to pip-squeak. He was chuckling still as he grabbed her arm and whirled her around.
“Ah, come on, Fred, don’t go away mad.”
“I’m not mad,” she said, even as her elbow jabbed into his stomach.
His breath whooshed out on a laugh. “You can do better than that. You’ve got to put your body behind it, if you want results.”
Challenged, she attempted to, and the quick tussle threw them both off balance. He was laughing as they fought for balance, as she ended up with her back against the refrigerator, his hands at her hips, hers gripping his forearms.
Then he stopped laughing, when he realized he was pressed against her. And she was so soft and small. Her eyes fired up at him. And they were so wide and deep. Her mouth, pouting now, drew his gaze down. And it was so deliciously full.
She felt the change slowly, a melting of her body, a thrumming in her blood. This was what she had been waiting for, yearning for—the man-to-woman embrace, the awareness that was like light bursting in the head. Following instinct, she slid her hands up his arms to his shoulders.
He would have kissed her, he realized as he jerked back. And it would have had nothing to do with family affection. In another instant, he would have kissed her the way a hungry man kisses a willing woman—and broken more than a decade of trust.
