“Why in the world did you destroy this phone?” she demanded the moment her last customer departed.
From his stool behind the cash register, Tristan regarded her with a why-aren’t-you-on-your-knees-thanking-me glance. “I would rather walk across a stream of jagged talons than listen to that shrill, banshee-like screech again.”
Her nose wrinkled in vexation. “You destroyed my phone because it rang?”
Unfazed, he lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
“That’s the second one you’ve murdered.”
“If you wish me to do the same to a third, you have only to ask.”
“I most definitely am not asking you to do it again. In fact, I’ll teach you to play games on my cell, so you can technology can make friends.” Frowning, she began tidying a shelf of colorful glass vases. “This is a business, after all, and my customers need a way to contact me.”
“A cause for celebration, surely.”
“Phones aren’t cheap, you know,” she grumbled. Okay, so they weren’t that expensive. “I’m taking this out of your salary.”
“Since I refuse to take your money,” he said, his tone as sour as her mood, “the situation works to my advantage. And while I am now in the mood to talk, explain to me why you are wearing drocs instead of a new gown. As your tutor, I believe I instructed you otherwise.”
“These pants are new and flattering. And I don’t have to worry about my legs getting cold.”
“But I did not choose them.”
“But,” she echoed with emphasis, “sexy clothing is not appropriate in the workplace. As a non-earthling, you’re just gonna have to trust me.”
The bell above the door chimed, preventing him from commenting. Tristan and his adorable man-pout were forgotten as Julia focused her attention on Mrs. Danberry and the little dark-headed child she held.
“Do you need protecting?” Tristan asked Julia.
“No. For goodness sake, stay where you are.” Pasting on a bright smile, she focused on her customer. “May I help you?”
* * *
WITH JULIA distracted, Tristan swept the hacked-up phone into the trash, then settled back on his stool, his hands locked behind his head. What was he going to do with this woman? He still did not know.
Early this dawning, she had bounced out of bed with ease, because she’d had a peaceful, undisturbed rest. He knew exactly how well she’d slept since he’d lain awake on the floor, listening to her breathy sounds of slumber, so aroused he’d ached all over.
Several times, while they had readied themselves for another day at this shop, she’d tried to draw him into conversation about the weather, then about his home, yet he had not responded. Uncertainty still ate at him.
He felt as if he were standing on a precipice, ready to forget his control and discipline and simply enjoy Julia one moment, wanting to prove he was impenetrable to softer emotions the next. The two needs warred within him, slashing against the other. Whichever direction he jumped, he suspected he’d only wish he’d taken the other.
How Zirra would rejoice. Her fondest desire had finally come true. He wanted someone he couldn’t have, and it hurt. His frustration knew no bounds.
He’d never been so torn…and he’d never known a woman could resist him quite so determinedly. Where were his legendary skills of seduction that no one could resist? He’d once thought he understood the opposite sex, and himself, yet he found himself thinking again that he was unprepared to deal with Julia and her hope to win Puny Peter.
A tide of possessiveness crashed into him, whipping him asunder. She is mine. Mine! I will not share.
He would be the man who unleashed Julia’s full passion, who showed her just how delightful all pleasures of the flesh could be. He would be the one to savor her reactions.
Not Puny Peter.
He wanted her, enjoyed her every nuance, and liked that he didn’t have to hold back with her. He appreciated her and knew the treasure he held. Would Peter?
No! Because Peter wasn’t good enough for her. Otherwise, he would have come after Julia long before now.
Just how was Tristan going to win this stubborn, completely illogical woman?
However necessary.
He relaxed into the hardwood seat, a smile curving his lips. He’d learned through experience that Julia responded more favorably to demonstrative measures. So. He needed to demonstrate sensual indulgence.
Anticipation made his fingers itch, a thousand possibilities racing through his mind. By Elliea, he would try them all.
* * *
JULIA TRIED TO CONCENTRATE on her customer. She really did. But her attention continually strayed toward Tristan, all sleek muscle and masculine strength. With his features relaxed, his mouth curved in a half smile, he looked so serene, almost boyish, and beguilingly innocent. Nothing like the sensual master she knew him to be.
He sat at the register, playing games on her cell phone, just as she’d taught him.
A woman could become addicted to his intensity. His skill. He knew just where to kiss, suck and lick; knew just where to touch, both lightly and more forcefully, to bring optimum pleasure. She tried to hide her now-pebbled nipples behind a shelf of dog figurines. Resisting him was proving more and more difficult.
Going on a date with Peter was still her first priority. But…her wanton side—a side she was only now discovering—demanded she give in just once and experience the passion Tristan stirred inside her.
That side of her must be ignored, right? Right. What could she have with him besides momentary passion? Nothing but a lifetime of insecurity.
“Oh, that is marvelous.” A female voice broke into her thoughts.
Julia blinked into focus. Mrs. Danberry stood a few feet away, holding the little girl with one hand, and the corncob pipe in the other.
“I’m so glad you like it,” Julia said. “I thought of you the moment I saw it.”
“Oh, no, dear. Not the pipe. The man.” Mrs. Danberry motioned to Tristan with a tilt of her chin. “Marvelous specimen, really. He’s grade-A
