any notebook computer on the market, and it can handle nearly unlimited simultaneous tasks. And is that one of those mobile broadband modems?”
“Yep, you can access the Internet anywhere, just like a cell phone.”
Cole popped the laptop open with a little catch in his breath, hesitated, then put his finger on the start button, closed his eyes, and pushed it. When it whirred to life, Harmony swore he got a little orgasmic jolt out of it.
He ran his fingertips lightly over the keyboard, crooning low and fast to it under his breath, like he was talking to a lover. If he stroked her the way he was stroking those keys, she’d melt into a puddle at his feet.
“You and the computer want to be alone?”
He opened his eyes and grinned at her, not the least embarrassed. In fact, he looked annoyed at being interrupted.
“I can give you some privacy. Just don’t get . . . anything on the keyboard.”
“Jealous?”
“Relieved.” She reached across the table and plucked her panties out of his hand. Then she tore the plastic wrap off the tuna sandwich and scraped the tuna off the bread onto the salad.
“Hey, I was going to eat that.”
“Not anymore,” she said, carrying the salad to the bed closest to the door. “I didn’t get any dinner last night since you decided to leave.”
“Neither did I, and you threw my dessert at a cop.”
“Would you rather I’d shot him? They wouldn’t have given up so easily then.”
“They sicced dogs on us.”
“They would have chased us to hell and back if we’d wounded a police officer.” She took another bite of salad, chewing it for all she was worth. “And stop watching me eat. It makes me self-conscious.”
“That’s not what it makes me.”
“Men get turned on by the stupidest things.”
“There’s pie, but darn, no clean forks. You’ll have to eat it with your fingers.”
Harmony rolled her eyes and ignored the box he held out. “Eat it yourself. You have work to do.”
Cole shrugged and sat at the table, opening the box in his hand. He tore a chunk off the wedge of pie with his fingers and dropped it into his mouth, head back, groaning softly as he licked the filling from his fingertips.
Harmony couldn’t take her eyes off him.
And he noticed. “Men get turned on by the stupidest things, huh?”
She walked over to the table and opened the other pie box. Chocolate cream. She broke off a piece of pie and put it into her mouth, closing her lips around her finger and pulling it out of her mouth one agonizing centimeter at a time, never taking her eyes off him.
“You’re playing with fire,” Cole said.
“You started it.”
“And I’m willing to finish it.”
And if she didn’t know exactly what he meant, her body sure did. If he kept looking at her like that she’d have an orgasm on the spot. But as much as she liked the idea of that, the fallout would be a nightmare.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on your problem as long as I have this”—he dropped his eyes—“huge need,” he finished with just the hint of a smile that was directed at himself, she suspected, as much as her.
Harmony put the pie down and left the table before she could give in to the urge to smile back. They had a long night ahead of them, and it would be a mistake to give him even that much encouragement. She came back with the phone book, dropping it in his lap.
“This is Ohio, not Nevada,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll find what I want in there.”
“Try 1-800-lunatic. Any woman who takes you on after eight years of deprivation has to be crazy.”
“You took me on.”
“This is a professional relationship.”
“I could leave a twenty on the nightstand when we’re done.”
“You don’t have any money.”
He shrugged. “I’ll steal some.”
She rolled her eyes and pointed to the phone.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of phone sex—1-900 numbers?”
“After nearly a
“Yep, you can access the Internet anywhere, just like a cell phone.”
Cole popped the laptop open with a little catch in his breath, hesitated, then put his finger on the start button, closed his eyes, and pushed it. When it whirred to life, Harmony swore he got a little orgasmic jolt out of it.
He ran his fingertips lightly over the keyboard, crooning low and fast to it under his breath, like he was talking to a lover. If he stroked her the way he was stroking those keys, she’d melt into a puddle at his feet.
“You and the computer want to be alone?”
He opened his eyes and grinned at her, not the least embarrassed. In fact, he looked annoyed at being interrupted.
“I can give you some privacy. Just don’t get . . . anything on the keyboard.”
“Jealous?”
“Relieved.” She reached across the table and plucked her panties out of his hand. Then she tore the plastic wrap off the tuna sandwich and scraped the tuna off the bread onto the salad.
“Hey, I was going to eat that.”
“Not anymore,” she said, carrying the salad to the bed closest to the door. “I didn’t get any dinner last night since you decided to leave.”
“Neither did I, and you threw my dessert at a cop.”
“Would you rather I’d shot him? They wouldn’t have given up so easily then.”
“They sicced dogs on us.”
“They would have chased us to hell and back if we’d wounded a police officer.” She took another bite of salad, chewing it for all she was worth. “And stop watching me eat. It makes me self-conscious.”
“That’s not what it makes me.”
“Men get turned on by the stupidest things.”
“There’s pie, but darn, no clean forks. You’ll have to eat it with your fingers.”
Harmony rolled her eyes and ignored the box he held out. “Eat it yourself. You have work to do.”
Cole shrugged and sat at the table, opening the box in his hand. He tore a chunk off the wedge of pie with his fingers and dropped it into his mouth, head back, groaning softly as he licked the filling from his fingertips.
Harmony couldn’t take her eyes off him.
And he noticed. “Men get turned on by the stupidest things, huh?”
She walked over to the table and opened the other pie box. Chocolate cream. She broke off a piece of pie and put it into her mouth, closing her lips around her finger and pulling it out of her mouth one agonizing centimeter at a time, never taking her eyes off him.
“You’re playing with fire,” Cole said.
“You started it.”
“And I’m willing to finish it.”
And if she didn’t know exactly what he meant, her body sure did. If he kept looking at her like that she’d have an orgasm on the spot. But as much as she liked the idea of that, the fallout would be a nightmare.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on your problem as long as I have this”—he dropped his eyes—“huge need,” he finished with just the hint of a smile that was directed at himself, she suspected, as much as her.
Harmony put the pie down and left the table before she could give in to the urge to smile back. They had a long night ahead of them, and it would be a mistake to give him even that much encouragement. She came back with the phone book, dropping it in his lap.
“This is Ohio, not Nevada,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll find what I want in there.”
“Try 1-800-lunatic. Any woman who takes you on after eight years of deprivation has to be crazy.”
“You took me on.”
“This is a professional relationship.”
“I could leave a twenty on the nightstand when we’re done.”
“You don’t have any money.”
He shrugged. “I’ll steal some.”
She rolled her eyes and pointed to the phone.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of phone sex—1-900 numbers?”
“After nearly a
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