Kyle was still occupied-and no longer bothering to pretend she wasn’t picturing him in her mind-she raced into the smaller of the two bedrooms, which had been hers as a girl.
On the other side of the wall, the shower sounds stopped. With a squeaky groan, Shayna kicked it into high gear. She
Drat! They had to be in here somewhere.
She yanked open the bottom drawer, and just as her fingers connected with the folded piece of denim she’d been searching for, she heard the bathroom door open behind her.
Easily picturing him crossing the room buck naked, she jerked to her feet. “Don’t come out yet,” she ordered, blindly tossing the coveralls to the bed. “I was just leaving.”
“No problem. I’m decently covered.”
Not certain what a Hollywood pretty boy considered decent, Shayna turned slowly and had to bite her tongue to keep from sighing. Her stomach literally cramped at the delicious sight of him.
He had an oversized bath towel wrapped around his tight, flat waist. Holy cow, he had a great body. Who knew attorneys had six packs? And those shoulders? Wow! The entire beautiful package was coated in a golden California glow. Imagine. A tan in November.
Afraid she’d start foaming at the mouth if she allowed her inspection to wander any farther south, Shayna racked her brain for a sophisticated, blase remark. Nothing there. Seemed she didn’t have a single G-rated comment left in her head.
Surprisingly, Kyle bailed her out. He picked up the coveralls and held them to his chest. “The mechanic look isn’t exactly my style, but beggars can’t be choosers. Hell, I was afraid you’d make me wear that awful robe, and I’m sure I wouldn’t have done it justice.”
He threw her a wink before picking up the bundle of clothes she’d brought downstairs and returning to the bathroom. Completely stunned, Shayna sank onto the bed. She had to use her palm to close her gaping mouth.
So in addition to being stubborn, rude and doggedly determined to do Steven Walker’s bidding, Kyle Anderson was also charming, funny and extremely hot. Talk about a lethal combination.
And since she was stuck with him for a while, she’d best find a way to put the man and the situation into perspective.
Pushing to her feet, she left the room, making sure to pull the door closed. Headed for the kitchen, she decided to deal with this the way she did most forms of stress. Food.
Since she wasn’t alone, she’d have to forego her favorite comfort food-strawberry ice cream, straight from the carton. A nice everything-but-the-kitchen-sink sandwich sounded like a good second choice.
Then, hopefully, they could kill a couple hours before bedtime with a nice, safe family movie, or better yet, a sappy holiday special. Anything to keep her from dwelling on her heart-pounding reaction to Kyle Anderson.
The sound of him clearing his throat alerted her to his arrival. She looked up and had to fight to keep her eyes from rolling into her head.
Not fair. The man looked nearly as scrumptious in the baggy hand-me-downs as he did in the snug towel.
This was going to be an extremely long night.
Chapter Four
Kyle hadn’t missed the spark in Shayna’s eyes. Good to know the attraction wasn’t one- sided. Although why the hell this ridiculous outfit turned her on was anyone’s guess. The coveralls fit well enough through the shoulders, but they were too long in the leg. He’d been forced to cuff the pants to keep from tripping.
He’d left the enormous black hoodie on the bed, after a quick fantasy of Shayna parading around in it, her naked legs peeking out from a thigh-high hem.
The image had stirred him to half-mast. Now, seeing her standing barefoot in the kitchen, his desire swelled again. He raked a frustrated hand through his damp hair.
“Oh! You need to put some ice on that bump.” As Shayna grabbed a plastic bag and turned to the freezer, he ran his fingers over the tender, swollen skin on his forehead. His X-rated fantasies had completely numbed the pain, but now that she reminded him, he did have a throbbing headache.
She wrapped the ice pack in a wet cloth and motioned him to the table. “Sit down and hold this in place.”
He did as told, laying his damp clothes on the kitchen counter as he passed. The minute his butt connected with the well-worn wooden seat, she gingerly placed the cold press against his forehead then grabbed his hand and used it to hold the cloth in place.
“Ouch. That stings.”
“Don’t be such a baby. Just grit your teeth and do it. Otherwise, you’ll have a huge goose egg by morning.” She gently jabbed his shoulder before turning around and grabbing his laundry bundle. “Sit there while I get the washer started, then I’ll dig up some aspirin.”
Kyle turned in his chair, watching the enticing sway of her hips as she strolled down the narrow kitchen and into the attached mudroom. Despite the lingering pain from the crash, he felt pretty good. With a contented exhale, he rested his head against the back of the chair.
Shayna’s obvious concern for his well-being did more for his aches and pains than a bottle of pain reliever ever could. No one had ever reacted that quickly to ease his suffering. It was the kind of luxury he hadn’t planned for in his life but one he could definitely become accustomed to.
Only problem was, he couldn’t imagine his future trophy wife even knowing where the kitchen was, much less risking her fifty-dollar manicure to make him an ice pack.
The edges of his contentment frayed. The closer he got to achieving the goals he’d set fifteen years ago, the more he questioned them. He’d based his life’s accomplishments on an angry teenager’s view of success. Wealth and power had been his primary motivators, but the messed-up kid he’d been had no idea what that kind of accumulation required.
But he was too close to the finish line to quit now. Dismissing his self-doubts, he concentrated on the homey sounds of Shayna bustling around the kitchen.
He’d never met anyone like her. She had made it emphatically clear she didn’t want him here-not in Land’s Cross and most certainly not in her home. Yet somehow, she’d managed to put that aside and treat him with kindness and respect.
The woman was almost too good to be true, and being an old-school cynic, Kyle found it difficult to take her at face value. No matter how tempting the offer.
The clunk of glass hitting the tabletop snapped his head upright. He dropped the ice pack and opened his eyes. Shayna stood mere inches from him, her vanilla scent tantalizing him, a pill bottle in her hand.
“Here, take a couple of these.”
Their fingers touched as he accepted the bottle. A physical spark zinged up his arm. He knew she felt it, too, by the way she rubbed her fingertips together, as if trying to hold on to the sensation.
Kyle put the ice pack on the table and sat up, the pill bottle rattling with the movement. She stood so close that it would take very little effort for him to pull her onto his lap where he could feast on her generous mouth.
The tip of her tongue snuck out and wet her lips. Kyle’s coveralls became skin tight. He started to reach for her just as her eyes widened. Nervous fingers twining through her hair, she backed away, not stopping until her backside hit the counter. With her gaze glued over his shoulder, she gestured behind her.
“Hungry?” Her raspy voice stretched the second syllable, drawing his body even tighter.
Hell, yes. Starving. And only one thing in that kitchen would satisfy him. Unfortunately, even if Shayna put herself on the menu, he’d be forced to abstain.
He’d come in here determined to charm his way under her defenses. A casual dinner, harmless small talk, whatever it took to get her to lower her guard. Yet less than ten minutes in and he’d let hormones distract him.
“Hope you like sandwiches.” Her forcefully upbeat tone made it clear she wanted to pretend the past few
