I’m late—I’ve been working on her car.’ He hesitated a beat before saying, ‘Do I get a birthday kiss?’ He must have presumed she’d comply because he promptly stepped in and she got a whiff of motor oil and healthy sweat.
Her heart thundered; her breath stalled. Terror invaded her body. Terror that she’d fall at his feet in a mindless quivering heap. She flung out a hand in front of her. ‘Touch me and I’ll…’ She trailed off. Already her lips were tingling, her hand falling limp to her side, her body swaying towards him.
Her numbed brain registered a flicker of hurt behind the heat in his gaze. ‘And you’ll…what, Anneliese?’
She could feel the vibration of his lips, his breath, in the air between them and closed her eyes for the final assault.
Then…nothing.
‘No. On second thoughts, I don’t think so,’ he murmured. ‘You’d just spend the rest of the night awake and restles and wishing for more than just a kiss.’
She gasped as her eyes snapped open. His mouth was still a whisper away from hers. But not close enough.
Never going to be close enough.
Her cheeks stung with humiliation while her hands itched to slap that arrogant smile off his face. And her lips still ached.
Straightening, he stepped away. ‘And you’d hate yourself in the morning…’
Anneliese relived the emotions as she watched him through the windscreen. On the few occasions they’d run into each other, neither of them had mentioned that evening again. But it was always there, a silent wall between them.
So of course he hadn’t invited himself on this trip. He’d done it for Cindy’s peace of mind, and her father’s. She watched him rake a hand through his over-long hair and promptly dismissed the image of that hand touching her with the same wild abandon.
He looked thoroughly untamed right now with the wind flapping against his vest and the threadbare patches in the knees of his jeans. Some women went for that look. A lot of women apparently. A disconcerting blip interrupted her pulse… That was how she knew it wouldn’t be a chaste kiss at the front door.
As for her birthday non-kiss… Well, she’d never know.
He turned and headed back to the car and even in the night’s dimness she didn’t miss the impatient snap in his long strides, the grim face as he shoved the mobile in his jeans pocket. Chill air bowled into the car, sweeping away the residual warmth from the car’s heating as he swung the door open and slid inside. He smelled of spice and winter grass and she had to force herself not to gulp it in.
‘First off, I apologise,’ he clipped. ‘That gibe about the perfume was uncalled for.’
She inclined her head. ‘You called it as you see it. What now?’
‘Can’t get a signal.’ He closed his eyes briefly, then turned to her, his jaw tight and shadowed with the day’s stubble. ‘I’ll try again later. Unless a car comes by, we’re stuck here. And since we’ll need a tow, we’re here for the night in any case.’
She told herself the tight clench in the region of her stomach was because she hadn’t eaten, that the only reason her skin prickled was because she was cold. But it was more than that. Her irresponsibility had got them into this mess. And now they were stranded. Together. Close together. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘These things happen.’ He squeezed her shoulder in a totally non-sexual way and his expression relaxed a little, but warmth spiralled from his touch down to her fingertips.
She’d just bet these things didn’t happen to Steve.
He blew on his hands. ‘Do you have a rug, or something we can share while we wait?’
Share body heat with Steve Anderson? Her pulse accelerated and her skin prickled anew and she shivered involuntarily. For a moment she considered saying no, but that was about as dumb as travelling without an inflated spare tyre.
‘There’s a quilt in the boot.’ Scrambling out, she hugged herself against the wind as she headed to the back of the car, then began pulling out bags.
Steve appeared at her side, shrugging off his vest. ‘Here. You’re shivering.’ Before she knew what he was about, he’d slung the vest around her shoulders, enveloping her in his spicy warmth.
She didn’t need it. She didn’t need to feel the slippery sensation of the lining against her breasts through her jumper, didn’t want to be surrounded by his masculine scent. ‘No… I’m okay.’
Irritation and impatience sparked in his eyes as she looked up at him. ‘Keep it, I don’t feel the cold,’ he said, pulling the quilt out. ‘Get back in the car, I’ll finish up here.’
She did as he requested, dragging her arms through the openings in the vest on the way. Steve joined her a couple of minutes later with the quilt—her bedroom quilt with the extra down filling that seemed to shrink the limited space even further.
‘Slide your seat back.’ His breath tickled her ear and his hands looked big and dark and masculine on the familiar pink floral fabric as he adjusted it over them both.
Whoa. Her whole body went rigid; her heart stalled. It was like being in bed with him. She only had to lean a little more to the left to find out how his lips would feel against hers, and she was tempted. She’d never acted out anything like that in her life.
‘The steering wheel’s going to get in your way,’ he said patiently. ‘And if we want to maximise the quilt’s effectiveness we need to be close.’
‘Close?’ she repeated, her eyes drifting to his mouth again. Her voice came out as a whisper.
Then she realised he was waiting for her to oblige with the seat. She slid it back a couple of notches so that they were shoulder to shoulder. His heat burned through her jumper where they touched. Only the handbrake prevented their thighs from abrading. Thank heavens. She remained rod-stiff, closed her eyes and counted. One, two—
‘I won’t hurt you, Anneliese.’
The tenderness and absolute sincerity in his voice slid over her like the finest silk on polished wood. ‘I know that. You’re Cindy’s brother.’
A pause while he shifted—probably to a different angle—bumping her shoulder, but she wasn’t looking, so she didn’t know. Except…she could feel his gaze on her face, could hear the slow rise and fall of his breathing.
‘Do you only ever see me as Cindy’s brother?’ he said into the silence.
Oh, not a fair question. ‘Since I only see you when I’m with Cindy, the answer’s yes.’
‘Interesting.’
‘Isn’t that how you see me? As Cindy’s friend?’ She opened her eyes to find herself looking into direct and piercing eyes, his normally amber gaze coal-dark in the dimness, and swallowed.
‘We’re not with Cindy now.’
Anneliese’s heart stumbled
