slept with them for sex.
Never again. He'd never have a fling with
a woman he didn't care about. It was too awkward. Which left having
relationships with women he did care about, but there'd been none of
those lately. Only Lucy intrigued him enough to try, but she'd made it
abundantly clear she wouldn't be interested in anything other than a one-night
stand. And he couldn't fall into that trap—unrequited love wasn't his style. If
he tested the waters, then he was going to want to keep her, and he couldn't. It
was all or nothing.
Lucy rolled out of bed and went back to
her room, her heart raw, her head spinning. Oscar was asleep in the middle of
the bed so she crept under the covers and tried not to disturb him. She closed
her eyes and tried to sleep but the scene in Nick's room replayed over and over
in her head.
Stupid, stupid girl . She'd made a complete fool
of herself. She'd thought he wanted her—she'd felt how much he did—but
she'd read the signs wrong. She must have, because no man can withstand that
onslaught unless he didn't find her attractive. No man ever had before.
Nick was different. Oh yeah. Big,
gorgeous, kind of scary but soft underneath all the bluff.
And not interested in her .
She sighed into the pillow. There was a
first time for everything. But why did her first rejection have to be from the
only man she'd desired in the last six months? No one had pressed all her
buttons the way Nick had. He turned her insides to mush, made her skin warm
where he touched her, and drove her to distraction just by being near.
Apparently she did nothing to him. So
he'd got a hard-on once or twice, big deal. Men got those by walking next to a
woman dressed in anything that wasn't a sack. It didn't mean anything. Apparently
not to Nick anyway.
He still thought she was a slut, and he
still didn't want anything to do with her because of it.
Fine. She could deal with that. She had
before. But this time, she was going to deal with the self-righteous attitude
differently. She would make him want her so bad that he'd forget his damned
principles.
The best revenge is to be successful. And
she'd pull out all the stops to be successful at making Nick Dante squirm.
***
Lucy stepped out of the shower and dried
herself with the threadbare towel. Like the sheets, the towels in the St Jude
house looked like they'd been there since the turn of the last century. Dried,
she wrapped the towel around her wet hair and looked around the bathroom. She'd
forgotten to bring her clean clothes in and she wore the only towel around her
head. She'd have to go back to her bedroom for the clothes or the linen
cupboard in the hallway for another towel.
Or she could just parade around nude for
a while. She smiled. Now that could be fun.
She opened the bathroom door and padded
out to the kitchen where delicious smells of bacon and eggs wafted out to meet
her.
"What's for breakfast?" she
asked from the doorway.
Nick turned, the answer dying on his lips
when he saw her. His Adam's apple jerked and his mouth formed a tight 'O'. She
could almost see the internal struggle and knew the point at which his head won
over his cock. His mouth clamped shut with a snapping of his back teeth and his
flushed face returned to his natural color. But still he didn't tear his eyes
away. In fact, he studied every inch of her, defiantly. First each nipple, then
down across her stomach to the triangle of hair between her thighs. Then
agonizingly back up again, stopping at her chin. He avoided looking into her
eyes.
"Put some clothes on," he said,
turning back to the sizzling bacon.
"You don't mean that." She
headed for the fridge, not sure if her side of the scoreboard deserved that
point, or his.
"Yes, I do. You'll get cold."
"My skin's still hot from the
shower." And from his scrutiny. "It doesn't bother you, does
it?"
The metal spatula clattered on the bench
then onto the floor. Nick swore loudly. Lucy stood by the fridge and held her
breath. He
Never again. He'd never have a fling with
a woman he didn't care about. It was too awkward. Which left having
relationships with women he did care about, but there'd been none of
those lately. Only Lucy intrigued him enough to try, but she'd made it
abundantly clear she wouldn't be interested in anything other than a one-night
stand. And he couldn't fall into that trap—unrequited love wasn't his style. If
he tested the waters, then he was going to want to keep her, and he couldn't. It
was all or nothing.
Lucy rolled out of bed and went back to
her room, her heart raw, her head spinning. Oscar was asleep in the middle of
the bed so she crept under the covers and tried not to disturb him. She closed
her eyes and tried to sleep but the scene in Nick's room replayed over and over
in her head.
Stupid, stupid girl . She'd made a complete fool
of herself. She'd thought he wanted her—she'd felt how much he did—but
she'd read the signs wrong. She must have, because no man can withstand that
onslaught unless he didn't find her attractive. No man ever had before.
Nick was different. Oh yeah. Big,
gorgeous, kind of scary but soft underneath all the bluff.
And not interested in her .
She sighed into the pillow. There was a
first time for everything. But why did her first rejection have to be from the
only man she'd desired in the last six months? No one had pressed all her
buttons the way Nick had. He turned her insides to mush, made her skin warm
where he touched her, and drove her to distraction just by being near.
Apparently she did nothing to him. So
he'd got a hard-on once or twice, big deal. Men got those by walking next to a
woman dressed in anything that wasn't a sack. It didn't mean anything. Apparently
not to Nick anyway.
He still thought she was a slut, and he
still didn't want anything to do with her because of it.
Fine. She could deal with that. She had
before. But this time, she was going to deal with the self-righteous attitude
differently. She would make him want her so bad that he'd forget his damned
principles.
The best revenge is to be successful. And
she'd pull out all the stops to be successful at making Nick Dante squirm.
***
Lucy stepped out of the shower and dried
herself with the threadbare towel. Like the sheets, the towels in the St Jude
house looked like they'd been there since the turn of the last century. Dried,
she wrapped the towel around her wet hair and looked around the bathroom. She'd
forgotten to bring her clean clothes in and she wore the only towel around her
head. She'd have to go back to her bedroom for the clothes or the linen
cupboard in the hallway for another towel.
Or she could just parade around nude for
a while. She smiled. Now that could be fun.
She opened the bathroom door and padded
out to the kitchen where delicious smells of bacon and eggs wafted out to meet
her.
"What's for breakfast?" she
asked from the doorway.
Nick turned, the answer dying on his lips
when he saw her. His Adam's apple jerked and his mouth formed a tight 'O'. She
could almost see the internal struggle and knew the point at which his head won
over his cock. His mouth clamped shut with a snapping of his back teeth and his
flushed face returned to his natural color. But still he didn't tear his eyes
away. In fact, he studied every inch of her, defiantly. First each nipple, then
down across her stomach to the triangle of hair between her thighs. Then
agonizingly back up again, stopping at her chin. He avoided looking into her
eyes.
"Put some clothes on," he said,
turning back to the sizzling bacon.
"You don't mean that." She
headed for the fridge, not sure if her side of the scoreboard deserved that
point, or his.
"Yes, I do. You'll get cold."
"My skin's still hot from the
shower." And from his scrutiny. "It doesn't bother you, does
it?"
The metal spatula clattered on the bench
then onto the floor. Nick swore loudly. Lucy stood by the fridge and held her
breath. He
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