Her eyes darkened, and he knew she felt him growing hard. This was probably not the best way to start a business relationship, but it was fourth and goal, and he wanted to score. That at least hadn’t changed in ten years.
“I still remember that night, Mandy.” He almost groaned as she pressed harder. “We were both naked, sitting like this. You put your foot against me and then . . .”
Her smile was wicked anticipation. “And then I did this.”
She slowly rubbed her foot up and down against his erection, and when he figured he couldn’t get any harder, she curled her bare toes into him. He closed his eyes and almost panted to keep from dragging her beneath him, having crazy sex with her, and then promising she could paint the walls any damned color she wanted.
With his last bit of self-control, he grasped her ankle and stilled her effort to visit death by foot massage on him. With his free hand, he handed her the sandals. “Your foot should be registered as a lethal weapon, lady.”
“Yes, well, it sort of went off and did its own thing. I mean, I don’t want you to think that foot was me. Those toes were out of control.” She was all wide-eyed shock and disbelief. He wondered how long it had been since she’d let herself wander out of the neutral zone. “I’ll bet my foot was kidnapped by aliens. They must’ve done horrible experiments on it, and then programmed it to make you a sexual minion who would help them conquer Earth.” Lowering her gaze, she concentrated on putting her shoes back on. “I can’t believe I just said that. I don’t usually babble.”
Con grimaced. Right now, his body was howling its rage. Sexual organs didn’t take deprivation well. He’d leave his cock to work out its own painful destiny. He switched his brain back into reasoning mode. “Hey, we were both into the moment.”
She stood. “It won’t happen again.”
“Sure.” It would happen again.
Gingerly, she sat on the bed. “Did they prosecute the person who decorated this room?”
Amazing that for ten years he’d gone about his life like a normal man, not obsessing about any particular woman, just enjoying what came his way. He tried not to sweat anything. Life was too short. Mandy never could’ve understood his laid back attitude. It would’ve annoyed the hell out of her.
Thirty minutes with Mandy had destroyed that man. He wasn’t quite sure what he was morphing into, or even if he’d like the final product, but he couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to stop it. “By the way, I have a new take on the Castle of Dark Dreams.”
Mandy raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Thank you, God.”
“I think we’re talking dark as in sensual.” He leaned back on his elbows, trying to bring visuals into focus.
“Sensual?” Mandy looked wary.
And well she should. “Yeah.” He could see it now, deep red walls and erotic murals. He’d keep the murals as a surprise. She thought he was one-dimensional.
“I don’t think the owner had that in mind. I’m not trying to restart our argument here, but the owner hired me to decorate the castle, and that includes wall colors. I’ve been trained for this. It’s what I do. I’m willing to take your ideas into consideration, though.” She smiled stiffly.
She was trying to appease the uncultured slob who’d just been hired to do the painting grunt work. Con knew he was probably being unfair, but he needed to be mad. If for no other reason than to convince his aroused body it hadn’t wanted her anyway. But his body was too smart to buy that crap.
“Unless I missed something, I don’t think the owner told us squat.” Con shrugged. “So I’m going to interpret the Castle of Dark Dreams any way I want. Besides, Holgarth contracted my company to do the painting, and if I take my paint and go home, you have nothing.” He regressed to a ten-year-old around this woman. Mandy bugged him. Her unswerving drive to be perfect had always driven him crazy. Of course, she’d also been a perfect lover. He was okay with that.
Con watched the horror return to her eyes. He had to admit he liked her playful sensual look better.
“You’ve spent a lifetime being the best at whatever you did—cheerleader, class president, top of your class. You were driven in high school, and then you went off to New York and I guess drove yourself some more. So you’re a good designer, but don’t give me that decorating diva act.” What the hell? He’d never realized how mad he was with Amanda Harcourt. Where had all this anger come from? They’d had one night of incredible sex. She shouldn’t be able to do this to him. “Give other people some credit for maybe having a few smarts.” Shut your mouth, Maguire. You have to work with her. “Tell me something, Mandy. Does being the best at everything make you happy?” That was cold. And that last comment wasn’t who he was. He was a live and let live kind of guy.
She looked stricken. “I’m not—”
Con held up his hand. “Look, I’m sorry.” Rising, he raked his fingers through his hair. “How you live your life is your own business.” He fixed his eyes on her toes as he walked toward her. Pale pink polish. Soft, feminine, and able to bring a grown man to his knees.
A sudden blur of motion made him look up just in time to see Deimos leap across the white table in a soaring trajectory aimed at the arrow slit’s ledge. Mandy turned to follow Con’s gaze.
Deimos’s trajectory calculations were a little off, though, because the only part of him that hit the ledge was his chin. Tumbling back onto the table, he rolled off taking the limp plant with
