With an effort he roused himself from the stupor she’d somehow put him in and entered the store, pushing the door closed behind them with his foot.
“It might not be necessary to carry you, but I lugged you this far, so a few more feet won’t kill me.” Hmm. Not necessarily true as having her wet curves pressed against him really was killing him. He cleared his throat. “Let’s see what’s going on with your ankle. Then we can argue about whether or not you can walk without assistance.”
He headed for the nearest chair, an overstuffed leather sofa set along the wall near the door, but she shook her head, spraying him with droplets of water. “Not there. I don’t want to ruin my vintage sofa. The counter is fine.”
He did as she requested and set her down on the glossy countertop next to the cash register. “Where are the lights?”
“Next to the door, right-hand side.”
He made his way back to the door, then flicked the switch, flooding the room with light. Blinking against the brightness, he walked back to the cash register. Lacey had removed her shoe and hiked up her pant leg. With her leg stuck straight out, she slowly rotated her ankle.
His gaze zeroed in on the wet skin of her leg. Her very shapely, wet leg. That slowly circling ankle was lulling him into a trance…round and round. Damn, even her feet, with their fire-engine-red polished toes, were sexy.
He forced his gaze away from her bare leg, but found no relief when his errant eyeballs roamed upward. Her soaking wet white shirt covered her about as effectively as cellophane. Any question he might have harbored regarding what sort of bras she favored was answered right then and there-lacey and flimsy. He could see the shadows of her erect nipples through the material. What felt like a gallon of blood gushed from his already addled brain straight to his groin.
Two seconds ago he’d been cold. Now he felt as if steam could pump from his pores.
Enough. He was a grown man for cryin’ out loud, not some horny frat boy. He gave himself a sharp mental shake and forced his gaze from her distracting and oh so tempting nipples.
“How does it feel?” he asked. Hard and aching, his inner voice chimed in, answering his own question. He silently told the pesky voice to shut the hell up.
“It barely hurts. Look.” She waggled her bare foot. “It’s not even swollen. I think the worst injury was to my pride. At least I can be thankful I wasn’t wearing a skirt when I fell ass over backward.”
“Right.” Because then he would have seen her ass. Encased in…What sort of panties does she wear? Something lacy and flimsy to match that bra? Or maybe she doesn’t even wear panties-
“Are you okay, Evan?”
Hell, no. “Heck, yes.”
“You sure? You look…flushed.”
Good God. “It’s the lighting in here. And the exertion of, um, carrying you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You insinuating I’m fat?”
He latched on to the speck of annoyance like a lifeline. Anything to diffuse the lust raging through him. “Why do women always ask questions like that?”
“Why do men always make statements that can be interpreted as that?”
“I wasn’t insinuating anything. And you’re not fat. You’re…”
“I’m what?”
Gorgeous. Sexy. Making my heart pound so hard it’s going to crack my ribs. “Looking for compliments, Lacey?”
Her eyebrows rose. “A compliment? From you? Hardly. I’d be stunned into silence if one passed your lips.”
“Well, if that’s the only way to shut you up, I’ll play. You’re…curvy.”
A snorting sound escaped her and her lips twitched. “Gee, thanks. You entice many women with smooth lines like that?”
“I meant it as a compliment,” he said through clenched teeth, not sure if he was more irritated at her for being amused or at himself for sounding like a jackass.
“Oh. Uh, thanks. I think.” She glanced down at her bare foot. “I probably should put some ice on my ankle.”
“Ice. Right. Good idea. Something icy cold is just what I, I mean you, need.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “Although how I’m going to stand having ice on me I don’t know. I’m already freezing.” As if to prove her words, her teeth chattered.
When it looked as if she meant to get down from the counter, he said, “Stay put. I’ll get the ice. But first, why don’t you let me have a look?”
The instant he spoke the words he regretted them. Looking at her ankle would mean moving closer to her. Touching her. And those were the last things he wanted. Really.
But this time it was his brain and his feet that disagreed because seconds later he stood in front of her. His gaze flicked down to her ankle. “May I?”
She set her palms on the counter and leaned forward, a position that afforded him a heart-pounding view of her generous cleavage. “I wouldn’t have thought you the sort of guy who’d be polite enough to ask before you touched.”
“I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me. Now, are you going to let me take a look, or are we just going to remain here and freeze?” Freeze? Definitely an impossibility as far as he was concerned. The way she was looking at him, with those big caramel-colored eyes, made him feel as if fire were about to spew from his scalp.
Keeping her gaze steady on his, she raised her foot and rested it against his belly, a move that had him sucking in a quick breath. There was no missing the challenge in her eyes. “By all means. Look all you want.”
He lightly grasped her ankle and gently prodded her soft, damp skin. And told his raging libido to behave.
“What does a property manager know about ankles?” she asked.
“I put in some time as a camp counselor and a few summers as a lifeguard. It’s been a while, but I remember the basics.” He gently rotated her ankle. “Does that hurt?”
“No.”
He felt the weight of her stare as he continued to manipulate her ankle. Her very shapely ankle. That he really needed to let go of. Now.
But instead of doing so, he looked up. And found her staring at him. In a very distracting way. His fingers stilled. Her tongue peeked out, a flick of pink that tensed his every muscle.
“Well?” she whispered.
“Well what?”
“What’s the verdict?”
I’m guilty of extreme lust by reason of temporary insanity.
When he remained silent, she prompted, “My ankle?”
Her words brought him back with a jolt. Good God, maybe he really was insane. “It’s fine,” he said, ignoring his brain’s command to release her. Instead his thumbs lightly massaged her instep. “No need to call in a surgical team.”
“That’s…um…” Her foot flexed in his hand. “Oooh. Good. Really good.” Her eyes drifted closed and a long sigh escaped her, a sigh that ended on a husky moan that shifted his libido into overdrive. “Soooo good.” After another deep moan, her eyes slid slowly open and his fingers stilled at the unmistakable arousal he saw.
“Evan…I think we should take off our clothes.”
5
LACEY’S BREATH CAUGHT at the fire that flared in Evan’s eyes at her words. There was no mistaking that heated glitter for anything other than what it was.
Arousal.
Pure lust swamped her, an unstoppable wave of the very sexual longing she’d been desperately trying to hold back since the moment he’d clasped her hand for their ill-fated dash across the lawn. No doubt about it, Evan Sawyer had everything female in her standing at attention and saluting.
And she’d been doing a damn good job of controlling her libido, if she said so herself, especially given the incredible way he’d felt lying on top of her. The delicious press of his body against hers when he’d carried her. The warm strength of his hands massaging her ankle and foot. Why, she deserved an Academy Award for managing to retain her air of aloofness.