They reached the house and Marc glanced at her clothes. “I guess you’d better get changed.”
She perused his now-dry chest, and as her fingers tingled with longing to touch him, she resisted the urge to run her hands along his body.
“You too.” Except neither made a move to go. They both stood there, enjoying the conversation and the easy intimacy blossoming between them.
Just then Pamina stepped outside and made her way toward them, her long, lithe body practically floating over the walkway. She called out to Candace as she approached.
Candace grabbed her ponytail to wring it out. As water slid down her chest, Marc cleared his throat and took a step back. “It looks like you’re needed, and you’d better get changed. You’re dripping.”
Oh, he had no idea.
Candace nodded and could barely pull her focus away as he made his way to his van. Pamina touched her on the arm. “I see you’ve met Marc.”
Before Candace could respond, Pamina’s fat cat Abra jumped into Candace’s arms and licked a water droplet off her chest.
“Whoa,” Candace said as his wet scratchy tongue pulled her thoughts back.
“Abra,” Pamina admonished and tapped him on the nose, a gentle reproach. “You keep that up and you’ll never convince me you’ve changed your ways.”
As Candace watched the exchange, she grinned. What a strange relationship this mystical woman had with her cat. Sometimes she treated him like he was human. Then again, maybe he was. Perhaps Pamina really was a magical being and had turned him into a feline as punishment for misconduct. He did seem to be quite the devilish little feline. When Abra gave a loud purr, Candace scoffed at her crazy imagination, pushed those ridiculous thoughts aside and focused on the task ahead.
“Pamina,” she began as Abra jumped from her arms and leisurely made his way to Marc’s van. “I think I’m going to have to hire a carpenter to help out with the room. I need some sturdy furniture made. Sturdier than I can purchase.”
Pamina’s long golden hair blew in the early-morning breeze and she narrowed her knowledgeable eyes in thought. “Do you have a carpenter in mind?”
“I usually use a local guy—”
“I’ll do it.”
Candace didn’t have to turn around to know who’d spoken. There was only one man who had such a deep sexy voice. Lust shot through her body at his rich desirous tone. She took a brief moment to gather herself before she spun to face him and tried for normal.
“You can build furniture?” He’d changed into a worn pair of jeans that hugged his body in all the right places, and a white T-shirt did wonders for his upper torso. Scrumptious.
“Yes, I’m good with my hands.” His grin was slow and he fixed her with a look that told her just how capable he was. She sucked in a breath and a fine shiver moved through her as heat arched between them. God, she wanted him. Oh how she wanted him. Masking her enthusiasm, she clamped her thighs and pretended to ponder his offer for a moment.
“What a great idea, Marc,” Pamina said. “For your services, we can offer you room and board as well.”
Marc gave her an odd look. “How do you know—?”
Without answering his question, Pamina continued. “It’s just me and Abra in this big old place and we quite enjoy the company. Like the girls, you’re welcome to the pantry and all the facilities, including the shower. I understand that such an undertaking can sometimes get a little messy.” Then she turned to Candace. “What do you think?”
I think things are going to get a whole lot more interesting.
She cast Marc a glance and examined his sensual mouth, wondering how it would feel on her body, and deciding then and there that she most definitely needed to find out. Now how to get him to make a move on her?
“Sometimes I work late.”
He pushed his hands into his jeans, pulling them low on his hips. “I don’t mind working late.”
“If you’re rooming here, I might keep you up.”
In more ways than one.
“I don’t mind being kept up.”
Visions of him being…up…while the two of them were working out the kinks in her fantasy room raced through her mind. She swallowed down a moan and held her hand out.
“Welcome aboard.”
Just off the back deck, Marc leaned over the table saw and ran a piece of wood through the sharp blade. He’d forgotten how much he liked working with his hands and building things. He glanced around, taking note of the birds chirping and the simple life outside the city. This was definitely something he could get used to.
He turned his attention back to constructing the sturdy king-sized bed Candace had designed, a bed created for marathon sex. As he worked, he tried to convince himself that he’d volunteered for the job so he could keep a better eye on Candace. Not because he wanted to be in that bedroom with her. Up close and personal.
He’d been working with her for a couple of days now, helping her carry in sex equipment, which included a Tantra chair, a sex swing, some strange-looking glider, and a dance pole that, he had to admit, was a personal favorite. He also had to admit it was becoming harder and harder to keep his hands off her lush body, especially with the way she continually looked at him, lust smoldering in the depths of her passionate green eyes. And Christ, when he’d helped her secure the floor-to-ceiling pole and watched her swing around it to ensure it was safe and bolted correctly, it was all he could do not to imagine her shimmying down it—naked. Her teasing and taunting had him walking around with a constant boner. If she was waiting for him to make the first move, she could forget it. No way, no how was he going to seduce her.
He had
