The Double Deal Page 4

  Too bad they couldn’t all just hibernate.

  Last night, he’d kept his eyes averted when Naomi had come out of the restroom, because just the sound of her movements, the scent of her, was distraction enough. And yes, once he’d given up and stretched out on the sofa, he’d watched her sleep. The covers had been pulled up to her shoulders, but the moonlight had played over her face.

  It had been a long time since he’d slept with a woman. More than a year. There were offers, but lately work had consumed his life. He didn’t have time for a relationship. This was a turning point in his research, everything coming together at just the right time.

  To be honest, he was racing to finalize his work because the Alaskan pipeline production through Canada and into the Dakotas would ramp up sooner rather than later. If anything, the Steele-Mikkelson merger had accelerated the program since their major Alaskan competitor, Johnson Oil United, was sending signals of speeding their plans while the Steele-Mikkelsons were preoccupied with the merger.

  And the more the businesses raced against each other, the more Royce worried. This wasn’t the type of industry to rush, and the Johnsons already showed some hints of corner cutting. Even minuscule miscalculations could prove deadly or leave long-lasting contamination concerns. He couldn’t afford distractions.

  And no question, this woman was a major distraction.

  There was something about Naomi...something he couldn’t identify that tugged at him, a feeling that he couldn’t shake. That there was more than met the eye with her. In a good or bad way? He didn’t know.

  Although he did know he needed to be on his toes around her until he figured her out.

  He looped the towel around the doorknob and reached for his Massachusetts Institute of Technology—MIT—sweatshirt, mulling over the best way to learn more about her. He needed to find a chink in that spunky facade, to see who she was on the inside and discover if a quirk of fate had truly brought her here. Or if there might be another reason she was holed up with him. Regardless, she intrigued him.

  Tugging on the thick fleece, he stepped deeper into the room, aware of her sharp, analytic eyes. “So, you grew up in Alaska?”

  “I did.” She curled her toes in her socks and sat on the edge of the sofa.

  “Could you have handled that bear on your own?”

  “Maybe. Okay, probably,” she said, smiling, her nose crinkling, knees bouncing nervously. “But I enjoyed watching you take over.”

  “How magnanimous of you.” His dry tone cut her smile. She exchanged it for a wink before readjusting on the couch, a shift that revealed her curves more fully.

  “Your ego seems solid.” She looked at him squarely, but her twitching increased.

  He dropped to sit at the end of the sofa, searching her deep brown eyes. “What’s really going on here with you showing up?”

  She stared back for a solid, sparking sixty seconds or so before shooting to her feet. “I have to go to the restroom.”

  And just that fast, she bolted away, the bathroom door slamming and locking behind her.

  * * *

  Naomi had never been so glad to take advantage of a pregnancy symptom.

  She had to use the bathroom at least twice as often these days, which made the one-facility situation here a tricky element she hadn’t considered in driving up to the secluded cabin. But as Royce had pressed her with questions, she’d been glad for the excuse to leave the room.

  Brushing away morning breath went a long way too in clearing her sleep-fogged mind. Now that she’d had time to fully wake up, she had a plan.

  She had decided to take a calculated risk.

  Royce was a man of logic, a scientist. So, she intended to throw him for a loop, knock him off balance. Opting for outrageous remarks had worked well for her in the past in getting people to say things they might not have otherwise. And then with laughter and the sharing of even a little secret, they relaxed, revealing more as the rapport strengthened.

  Such a tactic might well work in her favor now.

  Naomi left the bathroom cubicle and leaned against the archway leading into the studio area. Royce moved efficiently in the kitchen, cooking bacon, sausage, and popping large slices of fresh wheat bread onto a toaster slab that fit in the fireplace.

  Her mouth watered and her senses tingled on high alert. Because of her pregnancy or because of the man?

  She reminded herself of her mission. She tugged the hem of her boring thermal shirt and asked, “Wanna play strip poker? I’ll trade you clothes for first dibs on that food.”

  He glanced over his broad shoulder. “Do you always proposition strangers?”

  “Only you.” She fluffed her dark hair, a seductive challenge in her subtle moves.

  He turned his attention back to the meal at hand. Unfazed. A low, rumbling chuckle. “Ah, you’re being outrageous to get me to stop thinking and reveal—something?—to you.”

  He was smart, quick-witted, not easily fooled. “Very insightful.”

  “So sarcastic.” Facing him, she couldn’t help but notice the solidity of his chest beneath his MIT sweatshirt.

  “But you’re talking to me now rather than hiding behind your computer.” He raised one brow and for a moment, almost too brief to register, a flicker of amusement danced across her face, smiling, bowing in...interest?

  Dragging his attention from her back to the breakfast food seemed to be no easy task. He scrambled and flipped the eggs once more. His hands moved with such precision, the mark of a man with an ingrained attention to detail. Her mouth dried up at the vision of those hands paying precise attention along her body.

  “True enough.” He stalked quietly toward the kitchen area, pulling out plates for each item.

  His eyes met hers, and there it was—that pop of electricity, something warming her to her core. The fluttering in her stomach intensified. Not pregnancy related, but a reminder of what her future held.

  Royce dumped the sausage links and bacon onto a plate, arranged them neatly in a row. He fished out the four pieces of freshly toasted bread. The yeasty smell mixed with the savory smell of bacon and sausage.

  He met her gaze, held it before he spoke. “Keep your clothes. I could stand a big breakfast too. What do you want to discuss?”

  Naomi scratched just behind her ear, collecting her cool after spending even more time drooling over the man than the food. Deciding her strategy as he set out fresh jams on the small counter in front of her. The spread was vast, especially given their minimalist setting.

  Bacon, sausage links, fluffy eggs, toast. All things she didn’t even realize she was craving until now. Might as well feed one hunger pulsing through her and hopefully rein her thoughts in.

  Tilting her head, she continued, “Since strip poker didn’t get a rip-roaring endorsement, let’s go with something more practical.” She sat back on the edge of the bed and hugged her knees. “I would enjoy hearing more about your work.”

  “I told you. I’m a science professor.” His smile was taut, tense.

  And his response? Vague as ever.

  But his eyes sparked with something else when she held his gaze. Her pulse quickened...at the game of wits or at something else entirely?

  Food. She needed to eat.

  “Well I figured you weren’t a communications professor. Science is a broad field though. Care to narrow it down a bit? I assume you’re passionate about your career given how intensely you concentrate.”

  With a sigh, he piled food on his plate. She watched him close his eyes, seeming to weigh his next words carefully. What felt like an eternity passed before he spoke again. His low voice a welcome rumble.

  “I’m an engineer, actually. I work on oil pipeline construction and upgrades.”

  “A mathematical as well as scientific field. Interesting. What do you enjoy most about the pipeline angle? I’m
having fun envisioning you out there in the wilds, the bear master flexing his intellectual chops.”

  “Still nosy.” A smile—well, a half smile—pulled at his lips. He arranged the spread on the table, down to the precise position of both of their plates. He gestured for her to join him.

  “Why does it matter if I know what you do?” She walked over to the table, settling into the seat closest to the glass. The snow still poured down, muting the minimal rays of sunrise, giving the breakfast a hazy, romantic glow.

  Brushing knees with him under the table only added to the intimacy.

  “I’ve shared with you,” he dodged. She reached for the toast and then scrambled eggs as he continued, an edge of sarcasm tinging his tone. “Tell me more about being a delivery gal. How long have you had the job? Why did you apply to drive around in awful weather? Why did they hire you?”

  “I told you, I’m a friend.” Stick with rule number one: keep the story as simple and unadorned as possible. Too many details would complicate things. She tucked her knees closer to her side of the table. “I volunteered to help him out.”

  “Ah, right.” He shoveled a large bite of eggs into his mouth.

  Either he wasn’t listening to her or he was trying to trip her up, which meant he was suspicious. With good reason.

  Guilt pinched. Hard. He seemed to be a genuinely good guy and she wasn’t being totally up-front with him. It had all seemed so simple back home, the stakes for her family so high. And none of that had changed. She wanted security for her baby and she believed in her cause. She wasn’t as active as her sister on the issue of the environment, but her family’s company truly was the one most open to what Royce had to offer.

  Bottom line, she deeply believed research like Royce’s helped reduce environmentally caused cancers, and the thought of saving others the grief she’d been through? She had to forge ahead.

  “Tell me more about you? Family? Friends? Girlfriend who won’t be happy to find out I’ve been here alone with you offering to play strip poker?”

  “I’m an only child,” he said, taking the bait as she shifted the topic. “My parents had me later in life and are retired. Girlfriends aren’t your concern.”

  “Efficient answers. Sparse. But efficient.”

  Like he was with serving up portions on his plate from the platter in the middle.

  “I grew up in Texas around the oil fields. My father and mother worked hard. We had a comfortable life. I studied hard and it paid off with a full ride to college. I made good with some patents, which enables me to afford to hide out working in a luxurious glass igloo and pay for delivery of supplies,” he said simply, adding butter to his bread while it was still warm, the dab melting over the sides.

  Kind of like her senses. He was eccentric, sure, but sexy as hell. The intensity in his eyes had disarmed her for a moment. She needed to press on while he was warming up into an unusually chatty mood.

  “Texas to Alaska. That’s quite a leap geographically, not to mention the weather.”

  “Oil. Pipelines. Common thread.” He lifted his mug of coffee.

  “Ah, yes. Oil.”

  “Hmm.” He offered up the nonanswer while adding jam to his buttered toast.

  She was losing him here. Or maybe she was losing focus, because all she could think about was him in the shower. His buff chest, his strong arms. “Tell me about your childhood growing up in Texas?”

  He glanced at her, that strong jawline causing her heart to quicken. Something like a crackle of awareness passed between them, something that seemed to hang in the air. “Growing up in Texas was a lot like growing up in Alaska, I imagine, but without the snow.”

  “Since the snow is everywhere, how about spell it out for me more.” She bit into her own toast, indulging in the freshness of the blueberry jam.

  “Both places have fishing, hunting, rugged living...and oil.”

  “I applaud your concise way with words.” And yes, she was starting to struggle to keep her thoughts reined in with the sensory overload of savory food and muscle-bound man.

  He shrugged one shoulder. “Concise.”

  Royce’s attention wandered for a moment, eyes roving her, stopping at her mouth. His sudden movement caught her off guard as he reached across the table and thumbed the corner of her mouth. “Jam.”

  He slowly licked his thumb clean. But his eyes didn’t leave hers.

  Her heart did a flip. Her thoughts scattered like snow from the roof in a squall. So much for staying on her toes around him. About the only way she could envision being on her tiptoes involved arching up to kiss him.

  * * *

  Royce wasn’t sure why he’d opted to play with fire by touching Naomi. But damned if he regretted it.

  Angling across the table, he skimmed his mouth over the corner of her lips, right where he’d grazed her with his thumb a second before. The taste of jam lingered.

  As did the spark of attraction as he settled back into his seat.

  She hadn’t objected. She wasn’t running. Granted, she appeared a hint shell-shocked with wise eyes. But her pupils widened with attraction. She was stunning, potent.

  And he was drawn to her like a magnet.

  He studied her through narrowed eyes. “You’re—distracting.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” She sat back in the chair, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her spine arched and her breasts pressed against her shirt.

  Distracting was an understatement. His normally targeted linguistic skills seemed to fail him. She was...intoxicating. That might be more accurate.

  “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” He held her gaze, watching the way her lips moved, parting ever so slightly. The touch a moment ago, the taste of her, had left him wanting more. Much more.

  “Oh, thank you.” She exhaled hard. “Well, I guess there really isn’t any use in denying the sparks, is there?”

  Her bright eyes searched his, an eagerness dancing there. One he wanted to act on. Damn the logic.

  “Attraction is what it is. Even my scientific mind knows it’s not logical—but it is tangible.” He leaned forward on the table, his knee brushing hers. She stared at the point of contact, the place where electricity seemed to build, coursing through him.

  “I’m not a judgy kind of person.” She lifted her head, fixating now on his mouth. But her knee didn’t move from his. The warmth of her body teased him as she continued, her voice lower as if confessing a secret, “but I’ve also never indulged in a one-night stand.”

  “From the looks of the storm and the piles of snow out there, we’ll be here for far more than one night. If you’re so inclined to...indulge.” He eased from his chair and leaned a hip against the table, taking her hand, surprised for a moment by the softness of her skin, the strength in the way she squeezed him back.

  “Logical point.” Her breath hitched audibly, her pulse speeding in her neck just below her diamond stud earring.

  Were they really discussing this without ever even having kissed other than sharing a smudge of jam?

  Although holding her hand, watching her reaction to that simple touch, turned him inside out with need.

  “And I am a responsible man. I always have protection.”

  Her husky laugh washed over him. “You carry condoms to an igloo in remote Alaska?”

  “Did you hear me? I am a practical man. And a careful man.” He paused, looking down at his feet before continuing, the words heavy on his tongue. “My former fiancée got pregnant. We lost the baby, then broke up. If I’d been careful, I could have saved us both a lot of pain...”

  Her hand rested on the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry for the hurt that caused you.”

  “Thank you.” Pushing back against the memories, he glanced up at her again. “It was a long time ago. And damn, I don’t know why I brought it up at all. What a tot
al mood buster. I just wanted to say that I have condoms.”

  “Safe is always good.” Her fingers moved lightly along the back of his neck, both soothing and arousing.

  His direct nature had sent him off course with people before, and he wondered if that was the case now. “So, have I totally wrecked the mood?”

  “Wrecked the mood?” She angled back, toying with the tip of her ponytail in a way that totally set his senses on fire. Did she know what she was doing to him? “Dampened it perhaps. But I think the moment could be easily salvaged.”

  Yes. Victory surged through him. “How so?”

  She gave him an unmistakably sultry look. All thick lashes and parted lips. She raised an eyebrow, voice taking on a sweeter intonation. “You’re a smart man. Guess.”

  Angling toward her, he slid his hand up her leg, watching her move into him with anticipation. He drew his head closer, lips a breath apart from hers.

  The logical stuff? He would deal with that later. Because right now, nothing seemed more important than fully, thoroughly kissing Naomi.

  Four

  The moment Royce’s lips fully brushed hers, Naomi leaned into the kiss, unable to stop herself from soaking up the muscular feel and earthy scent of this man she barely knew. Throwing herself at a virtual stranger. Which was atypical for her.

  Sure, she’d cultivated a wild child reputation for the past few years. Totally unearned other than dressing flamboyantly and being outspoken. But she’d felt compelled somehow to prove to her family she was vibrantly alive. Independent. She’d even stopped waiting around for Mr. Right and embraced the possibility of motherhood.

  And now when she was well out of the public eye, she was about to do the most reckless thing of her life jumping into bed with Royce Miller—who she should be winning over in a more practical fashion.