Heat of the Moment Page 5

  She smiled with relief. “Working here is sure a lot different than Earthwaves.”

  “You weren’t allowed any breaks?”

  “We had breaks, but no beautiful pool to sit by,” she improvised, not wanting him to know what she was going through internally. “I can run in and get the iced tea.”

  “Okay. I hope you don’t think I hired you as a gofer.”

  “The way you’ve been pounding my head with theories, tests and data, I’d never assume that.”

  Josie left the cottage, went to the house to get the iced tea pitcher and brought it—along with two glasses—outside, glad for a momentary escape from the enticing stress of being near him. Peter had wheeled himself to a glass-topped wrought-iron table, painted white, that stood under a large umbrella near one end of the pool.

  After she poured the tea for them, she sat down. Her chair wasn’t as close to his as when they were sitting at the computer, thank God. Her hair clip felt as if it were loosening, so she shifted it a bit, trying to make it tighter. She felt for loose strands of hair, tucking them in, but then the clip still didn’t feel secure. All at once she realized that Peter was watching her.

  His gaze, alight with playful energy, threw her. At the computer, she may have been physically closer, but she hadn’t had to look directly into his eyes. Her nerves immediately kicked in, and she grew even more edgy, already sensing male-female undercurrents sparking like static electricity between them. No more double entendres, she prayed.

  She saw a downright mischievous twinkle in his eyes now. He seemed on the verge of being flirtatious. She didn’t want that, she told herself. Yet her heart rate picked up speed.

  Looking over her hair, he said, “You know, you ought to try to learn to relax.”

  “I am relaxed,” she said, forcing the prongs of the clip deeper into her coiled hair.

  “This is relaxed?” He eyed her hands at the top of her head. “You’re so fidgety, you’re making me nervous!”

  “Fidgety?” Self-consciously, she lowered her hands. “I’m just fixing my hair. Women do that sometimes.”

  “You do it constantly.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He smiled patiently. “I beg to differ. While we were in front of the computer, you did something or other to your hair at least a dozen times.”

  His bantering manner forced her to keep up, match wits with him. She wasn’t used to having to hold her own with a man in a playful way. She gave him a look. “You were counting?”

  He lifted his shoulders. “I’m used to collecting data. My conservative estimate of six times an hour means you’re fixing your hair every ten minutes.”

  Josie felt a little defensive. “Well, my hair comes loose. What do you expect me to do?”

  With one hand on the table to brace himself, Peter stretched toward her and reached up with his other hand. “How about this?” He took the clip out of her hair and tossed it onto the blanket covering his legs.

  “No!” she exclaimed, panicking, grabbing her falling hair. “Give that back to me!”

  “Josie, you don’t need the damn clip,” he said with gentle humor in his voice. And then he reached again, grasped a handful of her uncoiling hair and ran his fingers through it, fluffing it out over her shoulder. Josie sat in shock. Deftly, he adjusted his wheelchair to get closer to her.

  “Look at me.” He carefully turned her head by taking her chin in his thumb and forefinger. At the touch of his fingers on her face, a feeling of sweet vulnerability stole over her. He ran his hands through her hair again, bringing it forward on both sides of her head. He took hold of strands in each hand, then brought the ends together beneath her chin, framing her face. He gazed at her with a satisfied smile, as if pleased with his efforts.

  She noticed the wall of strong white teeth. As he began to speak, his lips let go of their firm line and took on the sensuousness she found fascinating. He stopped speaking and when he inhaled, his flared nostrils widened. Once again she thought of a sleeping, powerful dragon.

  “Josie?”

  “Hmm?” Oh, God, she hadn’t heard a thing he’d said! His face—so close, close enough that she could study mesmerizing details—made her forget to listen.

  “You’ve got that deer-in-headlights look.” He released her hair, as gingerly as he’d let go of her hands the day before. “I haven’t caused you to go into shock, have I?”

  “No, of course not.” Her voice sounded high and flustered, even to her own ears. She straightened her back, numbly smoothing her hair back over her shoulders. It took a moment to gather her wits, to even think about how to respond to his audacious behavior. “You stole my hair clip! I haven’t had that happen since I was in the fifth grade, when the boys ripped off the scarf that held my ponytail.”

  He had the nerve to start laughing, his green eyes merry, white teeth flashing. “Reminds me of an old song of my Irish great-grandfather’s when I was a kid.” He paused. “I even know the title of this one. ‘I’ll Tell My Ma.’ Something about how boys don’t let the girls alone. They pull on her hair and steal her comb. I can’t remember how the rest of it goes.”

  Josie couldn’t help smiling. “So you Irish men never stop teasing girls?”

  “Maybe you bring out the kid in me.”

  She worked at shoving her thick hair back, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “I hope not. Give me back my hair clip!”

  Audibly sighing, he picked it up. “You really want it back? You look so much nicer without it.”

  She hesitated. “It’s messy and disheveled this way.”

  “It looks free and natural,” he argued. “The other way you looked like a cat with its ears clipped together. Now you look like a—a tigress!”

  At that moment, feeling so totally undone, the idea that she looked like a tigress transfixed her. The comparison made her feel powerful, in charge of herself, the way she always wanted to feel around men. In a dilemma about how to deal with his outrageous, yet strangely invigorating playfulness, she finally replied, “All right, I’ll try wearing my hair down for a while. But I do want my clip back, please.”

  He handed it to her, setting it in the palm of her hand. And then he used his fingertips to snugly close her hand around it. “Take it home and put it in a drawer,” he advised her in a soft tone.

  Thrown by the unexpected tenderness in his touch, Josie searched her mind for some retort, but couldn’t think of any. Being taken by surprise and teased was a new sort of interaction for her. She felt she ought to swat him, but…he was her boss. It didn’t seem appropriate.

  And she had to admit, a part of her liked it. The way he could suddenly assault her senses was devastating. Despite his injuries, he clearly still liked women. Her, in particular. Maybe he was looking for a new sort of relationship. From the earthquake talk earlier, it was clear sex was still on his mind, but physically he couldn’t do anything about it anymore. Maybe he flirted with women to assure himself that he was still male. At this stage in his life, in view of his injuries, perhaps he’d decided that was the best he could hope for.

  All right. Okay. She could deal with that. In fact, she rather liked the arrangement, if that was what he had in mind. This situation was introducing an interesting new complication into her admittedly rather dull life. She could explore harmlessly provocative interplay with a man, even allow herself to feel sexually attracted to him, and all the while be perfectly secure. He simply couldn’t do anything physically that would make her really uncomfortable.

  Ronnie’s contention that people needed sex to be healthy probably had some truth to it, Josie had to admit. Maybe Ronnie was right to be so concerned about her. It was abnormal to be as sexually shut down as Josie had been. Secretly she’d always known that, but hadn’t cared. Now she was rapidly becoming convinced that an important realm of her life experience had been unfairly suffocated. As a human being, she had a right to feel all her feelings; it wasn’t good to suppress certain ones out of fear.


  But this was a little like opening Pandora’s box. Who knew where allowing herself to open up sexually would lead?

  Then again, she reminded herself, that wasn’t a worry in this case. With Peter, nothing really serious could happen.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, observing her closely.

  She’d found she was beginning to like the way he was always focused on her, wanting to know and understand her. “I’m trying to figure out how I’ll be able to look in a microscope with my hair getting in the way.”

  “If that’s the worst problem you have on this job, you’re doing okay.” His eyes held an extra twinkle. Maybe it was the sun shining in them. Or maybe he was teasing her again. Either way, she didn’t mind. Peter made her feel special and alive. As if a whole new world were opening up. A safe new world with a man she could actually trust never to hurt her.

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Peter got a phone call from his partner, Al, while they were at work in the lab. Josie listened to Peter’s half of the conversation.

  “Good, I’m glad you’re coming over,” he said, holding his cell phone to his ear. “Josie’s here. I want you to meet her.”

  “You told him about me?” Josie asked when he’d ended the call.

  “Yesterday, after you left, I called him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He was surprised.”

  “Did he object to your hiring me to do R and D?”

  “Not after I told him you’d defected from Earthwaves,” Peter said. “I think I made him see how valuable you could be to us.”

  Josie nodded, thinking Peter must be giving her the cleaned-up version of what was really said.

  They finished up in the lab for the day and went to the house to wait for Al. He arrived soon after.

  Peter opened the door for him. Al walked in wearing faded denim jeans, white socks under his sandals, an Anaheim Angels T-shirt and round little glasses. His black hair was clipped short. He gave Josie, who stood near the door next to Peter’s wheelchair, a cursory glance.

  “Hey, Pete, how’re they hanging?”

  Peter glanced at Josie with a hint of embarrassment. “Al, can you try out the concept of making a good first impression? This is Josie Gray, whom I told you about.”

  Al turned to Josie and stuck out his hand. “The new kid on the block Pete hired without even running it by me first. But now I can see why.”

  Josie shook hands with him. Despite his rather brash manner, his handshake was surprisingly weak. He wasn’t handsome, wasn’t smooth. He was Peter’s exact opposite. Perhaps that’s why the two men complemented each other so well.

  “Nice to meet you,” she said. “At Earthwaves everyone was terrified of your brilliant mind.”

  Al grinned. “Ah, my reputation has preceded me!”

  Peter was giving his partner a puzzled look. “What did you mean, now you can see why I hired her? I explained on the phone that she’s got the perfect background for us.”

  “And the fact that she’s a dish didn’t do anything to dissuade you,” Al said dryly.

  Josie lowered her gaze to the floor, not knowing how to take that comment. She’d spent years not looking for compliments from men. And she didn’t like the idea that Al thought Peter had hired her for something other than her expertise in chemistry and seismology. On the other hand, maybe the left-curve flattery was Al’s awkward attempt at making friends.

  “I hired her for her ability,” Peter said. “She must be a great loss to Earthwaves.”

  “Any loss to them is our gain,” Al agreed. He turned to Josie. “What made you leave?”

  “Ethical differences,” she said.

  Al nodded perfunctorily. Turning back to Peter, he said tersely, “Can we talk?”

  Peter looked uncomfortable, but Josie took her cue and left the room. As she walked to the lab, she wondered if Peter would be able to convince his partner of her worth as easily as he’d thought he could.

  PETER WATCHED JOSIE go out the back door, then turned to Al. “She’s doing well. I understand your hesitance to hire her, but I think we need her on our team.”

  “Have you thought of the possibility that she may be a plant?”

  “Yes—”

  “She might still be on Earthwaves’ payroll, scoping out enemy territory.”

  “That was the first thing I thought, Al, when she appeared at my door.”

  Al looked annoyed. “You didn’t mention that on the phone yesterday.”

  “I didn’t want to put doubts in your mind. Look at it this way—If she’s on the level, she can be very useful to us. She knows what the competition is doing. If she’s a spy, then you know the old saying about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

  “And you really like that part.”

  “Al—”

  “Delilah never looked so good! Don’t let her near you with a pair of scissors.”

  “Al—”

  Al put up his hand to stop Peter from arguing. “I totally understand. If I were grounded in a wheelchair, I’d like to have a chick like her around, too. Even crippled, you still get the lookers!”

  Peter exhaled, letting the comment go. Al might make his barbs, but Peter knew they reflected a lifelong insecurity around women. Peter had always had women in his life, but Al never could get a date. It had been that way since their college days. Al might be brilliant, but he was a little too offbeat and socially inept to attract women. Peter had always hoped he’d run across his counterpart, a female lab nerd with glasses and sandals. But so far he hadn’t. Such people were always in their labs, not out and about where they could meet each other.

  As if vaguely aware that he might not have said quite the right thing, Al paused and asked, “So how’re you doin’? What’s the doc say?”

  Peter shrugged. “I’m as good as I’ll get.” He didn’t like keeping up the ruse of being crippled, but Al was the type to blurt things out, and Peter didn’t quite trust that his partner could keep his recovery a secret. Simply not telling him was Peter’s best bet. And if his assailant thought taking Peter out of commission was enough to slow down progress at Frameworks, then maybe he wouldn’t go after Al. “How about you? You still may be in danger, too. Anything suspicious happening around the plant?”

  Al shook his head. “Everything’s cool. Bad news on the work front, though. Setbacks in the test data. The composite we developed isn’t working the way we projected. So it’s back to the old drawing board. Puts us further behind schedule. Maybe your cutie from Earthwaves can help. I put some stuff together for you to work on in your cottage lab.” He pointed to the large briefcase he’d left near the door.

  “Sure.” Peter felt relieved that Al was taking some initiative. Before his injury, Peter had always been the one to direct things and keep the firm on schedule and ahead of Earthwaves. Perhaps that’s why the assailant targeted him and not Al.

  “It’s a lot of testing and retesting. Glad to farm it out to you,” Al admitted. “I hate tedium. Hope the cutie-pie likes long hours.”

  Peter smiled. “Let’s go ask her.”

  AT THE COTTAGE about forty-five minutes later, Peter was saying goodbye to Al. His partner had finished explaining what needed to be done, and that they would have to work quickly to get back on schedule. Peter was glad to see that Al seemed to accept Josie. Her quick comprehension of the lab results and the new tests had impressed Al—Peter could tell by his lack of quips and subtle put-downs.

  Peter glanced at her now as she shook hands with Al, her long dusky hair flowing past her shoulders. Al was right; she was a looker. The change in hairstyle enhanced an innate sensuality that seemed at odds with her long skirt and sweater, but it was there all the same.

  All at once Peter felt a slight sway in the room, as if he were having a dizzy spell. Josie must really be getting to him! But then some of the lab equipment, the tubes and beakers, began to rattle.

  “Earthquake!” Josie said. Without another word, she got behind
Peter’s wheelchair and began pushing him toward the doorway to the bedroom. “Al, duck under a table! We’ll go under the doorframe—”

  The swaying continued. Peter had the urge to get out of the wheelchair and duck under a lab table himself, pulling Josie along with him. But he didn’t want to reveal that he could walk. So he went along with Josie’s idea, though he knew that current earthquake safety advice recommended hiding under heavy furniture rather than in a door frame or beneath a stairway.

  When she’d pushed his chair beneath the doorframe, he told her, “Go get under a table!”

  “I’m okay here,” she said. And then she settled her hand on his shoulder, as if feeling protective—of him. Her sensitivity touched him. Even his ex-wife had never looked after him in this way, not even when he’d been sick with the flu and had a temperature of 103 degrees. Josie was a nurturer, but at the same time, her feminine hand on his shoulder sent a pleasant frisson along his back and neck. The electric sensation wound its way downward, bringing to life another part of his anatomy, and he realized again that it had been five long months since he’d felt a woman’s touch. Except for his mother and sisters, who visited him regularly during his recovery, no other women had sought to give him comfort—of any kind.

  He reached to his shoulder and took hold of Josie’s hand. Being such a skittish woman, she was probably frightened, though so far, the quake seemed fairly mild. But when he turned his head to glance up at her, the liveliness in her brown eyes almost came as a shock. She didn’t look the least bit scared.

  Josie caught Peter’s gaze, her eyes filled with energy and inquiring curiosity. “Is this house built on fill or bedrock?”

  “Bedrock, of course!” Did she think he’d buy a place that might slide down the hill?

  “Good. I have a feeling the epicenter is up north. It’s not close. What do you think?”

  Actually, Peter hadn’t given the epicenter a thought. All he wondered was how long would it last? And how long would she keep her hand on his shoulder? If this situation went on for too much longer, he’d be fully aroused. He kept looking at her, turned on by the excitement in her shining brown eyes. How he’d love to see her gaze at him with those eyes while the earth moved in a different way.