Page 33 of Bonded By Blood

“Hot?”

“A little, yes.” She didn’t dare make eye contact, for her composure was held together only by a thread. If he touched her, raised an eyebrow, skimmed his breath on her skin, she knewit’d be all over. Her body would betray her. She wouldn’t be able to resist him.

“Do you want something? Water?”

“No. I’m fine. Should we get on with it? The guys have been waiting for fifteen minutes or so. Where in here? For the painting.”

She was sure his gaze rested for a moment on the sheets.

“There.” He lifted an arm and pointed at the wall behind the bed.

“Really? Don’t you think it’d be better over there?” She indicated the long wall near the double doors. Just talk, keep talking. Focus on the words and nothing else. “Or even back in the living area? The lighting there was awfully nice and besides, no one will see it if it’s in here.”

“I didn’t think you liked the lighting out there.”

She pretended to be writing something on the clipboard and kept her eyes glued downward. “It’s better than in here.”

“Hmm. Now that I’m standing here, I think the wall behind the bed is my favorite place. I can look at it often.” She felt the heat of his smile and looked up. It was a slow, knowing grin, as if he were daring her somehow.

“All right.” Often? He’d only be able to see it if he were right here. And how often will he be standing in this very place?

She glanced around the room. In bed, it’d be behind him. So why was he looking at her like that?

He sauntered closer, his hands in his back pockets, taunting her. She stepped back with her clipboard clutched to her chest, a flimsy yet tangible barrier between them.

At the foot of the bed he stopped and held his palms up as if framing a picture.

“It’s the perfect location.”

Something about his tone tickled inside her head, and she rubbed a finger against her temple. And then it dawned on her.

He’d be able to see it while having sex. Missionary. Or doggie-style.

And he wanted her to know this.

She could scarcely breathe as she brushed past him and rushed from the room. He was nothing to her. Absolutely nothing.

“I’ll get the guys up here with the equipment and the painting. Back in a moment.” She squeaked the words and heard him laugh as she stormed down the hall.

CHAPTER TEN

Although Dom had driven out to the islands many times, he’d never made the ferry trip in the middle of the day, but he didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary. He knew this conversation wasn’t going to be easy on so many levels.

Stepping out of the car with the sun warming his skin, he felt strangely out of place. An older woman, dressed in gardening clogs and a loud floral print dress, stepped over a row of hedges and shuffled toward him.

“Hey, Shirl.”

“Good heavens,” she said as she pulled off her work gloves and kissed Dom on the check. “I could hardly believe it when Chuck told me you were coming out. Not that I don’t love your visits, but look at you—out in the sunlight like this.” She held him at arm’s length and looked him up and down. “I want to hear what’s going on, but I expect you want to explain things to Chuck first.”

“Is he up yet?”

“Go on in—he’s down in the pool. Back’s been bothering him lately. He finds if he swims when he first wakes up, it doesn’t ache so much the rest of the night. Can I bring you somethingto eat? How does lentil soup with homemade sourdough bread sound?”

He didn’t want to give her any additional work, but he hadn’t eaten since last night and she was a fabulous cook. “Well...uh...”

She brushed the dirt off her hand shovel. “Off with you. I’ll bring it down in a few minutes. Chuck’s always starving when he gets out of the pool anyway.”

Dom looked around but didn’t see any other cars. “No guests?”