He flicked his cigarette into the gutter and he noticed her body immediately stilled at this act.
Then she did something extraordinary.
“You just littered!” she accused hotly, jumping gracefully to her feet, glaring at the smouldering cigarette butt like it was about to explode and take out half of the street in a blaze of fiery destruction when it did.
Then her glare turned to him.
He hadn’t a word to say in response. She was, of course, right.
She was also somehow even more imposingly beautiful when she was angry.
“Fazire says you shouldn’t litter. He says humans litter too much.” While talking, she had turned and was stomping down the steps in agitation. Nate watched in stupefied fascination as she marched straight to his cigarette end and leaning down slowly she snatched it out of the gutter and held it between her thumb and forefinger like it was abhorrent, which in her hands, it was. “He says humans should take better care of where they live or we won’t have it very long.” She leaned forward and smashed it out against one of the steps, giving him a tantalising glimpse at more of her cleavage.
“Who’s Fazire?” Nate asked and watched as she straightened and he saw the flush of ire on her pink cheeks and he found his resolution of earlier this evening slipping another hefty notch after the notch it had slipped while seeing her cleavage, the other one that had slipped upon witnessing her smile and the other one that had slipped upon hearing her say “thank you”.
She was looking around for somewhere to deposit the cigarette.
“He’s a family friend. He helped raise me,” she explained distractedly.
“Lily, give it to me,” Nate said softly and her eyes came to him and focussed. He’d stretched out his hand and she walked up the steps, stopped two down from the top where he stood and then she deposited the remains of the cigarette in his palm.
After her rather vain attempt to save the earth by cleaning up his lone cigarette end, she seemed to realise belatedly how bizarre her behaviour and her words were. This realisation caused her to look hilariously mortified.
“I think,” she whispered, putting her eyes on anything but him, “that might have been a little rude.” She said it as if rudeness was the worst of sins.
“No more rude than my thoughtless participation in the destruction of the planet,” he drawled, definitely teasing this time.
Her eyes flew to his and at one look at him her chagrin instantly faded and she laughed, not soft or low, but with great feeling and it was so catching, he found himself grinning at her.
And in that moment, his resolution was completely forgotten.
“Yes, true,” she was no longer laughing but her eyes were still dancing, “you are definitely ruder than me. You should feel ashamed, Nate, very ashamed.”
He asked before he could stop himself, before he could start thinking or remembering all the reasons why he should not, “Are you staying tomorrow?”.
“I’m sorry?” She tilted her head quizzically, her gorgeous eyes still smiling.
“Tomorrow. Are you staying with Laura and Victor another day?”
“I…” she hesitated, watching him, “I don’t think so. I’ve taken too much advantage as it is. Your um… parents are very kind but fish and guests stink after three days.”
“What?” He no longer had to stop himself from thinking because all he could think was that had no idea what she was talking about.
“Something my grandmother used to say, fish and guests stink after three days. Her way of saying not to wear out your welcome when you’re a guest.” She alighted the last two steps, stood in front of him and tilted her head up to look at him. “What I’m saying is that it’s time for me to go home.”
“You’ve only been here two days,” he informed her helpfully, smiling into her upturned face. Something changed in hers as she caught his smile and for some reason this caused another blush to creep into her cheeks.
“The way I figure it is, I didn’t even know Laura and Victor when I arrived so that has to shave off at least a day, maybe two. So I’m passed my expiration date.” She gave him her quirky grin and he had to concentrate all his effort on not snatching her into his arms.
She was close, not unseemly close but close enough so that she filled his vision, so he could feel the warmth from her body, so that he could smell her subtle perfume.
He straightened from his lounge against the banister. This brought them only inches closer but enough so that the once decorous distance was now not.
“Stay another day,” he urged, his voice lower in timbre as well as coaxing.
Her body gave an almost imperceptible jerk and she had to tilt her head back further to look at him.
“Why?” she whispered, her eyes adorably bewildered.
He moved closer and her head tilted back more. This was how she would look before he kissed her, he knew, and the thought shot through him like a bullet.
She seemed frozen, rooted to the spot. He lifted the hand which was not carrying her litter-saving cigarette and captured a tendril of her hair that had escaped at her neck. He twisted it around his finger and felt its softness.
“So I can take you to dinner tomorrow night,” he replied quietly.
It was then Nate realised she wasn’t breathing.
There was something about her that made him understand he was in complete and total control of her. The way she was looking into his eyes, she was lost in him, she was, quite simply, his to do with as he pleased. She communicated this with only a look not uttering a single word.
And this knowledge shook him. That this perfect, pristine, untouchable creature could be lost in Nate McAllister, the boy from the wrong side of town, the son of a whore. He had the unspeakable but heady desire to shout his satisfaction and the equally strong desire to bury himself in her, bury his tongue in her mouth, bury himself deep inside her, claim her, possess her, do something violent and long-lasting that made her truly his.
“What about your fiancée?” she breathed.
“I don’t have a fiancée.”
“Your girlfriend then… what’s her name, Georgia?”
“Georgia and I are no longer together.”
After he spoke, without hesitation she said, “Okay.”
He released her hair, lifted his hand and ran his finger down the soft skin of her hairline, right in front of her ear, down to the spot where her jaw met her neck.
Her lips trembled.
“Okay, what?” he asked softly.
“I’ll stay another night,” she answered, her voice just as soft.
Nate smiled.
Lily sighed.
Chapter Eight
Lily
“Nathaniel’s here, Lily.”
Lily jumped. Victor had peeked his brown head around the door of the guest bedroom and after one look at her, he started smiling.
He opened the door fully and straightened in its frame. “You look lovely.”
“I do?” Her voice was uncertain and maybe a little frightened.
“Yes, Lily, you do.”
“I…” She didn’t know what to say, she didn’t consider herself lovely. She’d never been lovely. She had no idea that she was lovely.
In fact, she had no idea why Nate had asked her out in the first place. Temporary insanity, she decided. Or more likely thinking she was suffering from it and feeling sorry for her after she went off half-cocked at his innocent flicking of a cigarette butt. Thousands of people flicked thousands of cigarette butts a day. She acted like he’d just gone on a murder spree. The thought of it made her nearly expire from mortification.