Destiny Unknown Page 12

  She glanced around the office, her shoulders sagging perceptibly. "I don't know what to do now. Everything's going wrong—"

  Cody heard the crack in her voice. She'd stopped herself, but a slight tremble in her jaw relayed her fears. He could almost hear her telling herself she wouldn't lose control. "Hey," he said, stepping closer. "You'll figure this out."

  "Right." She smiled, but it was forced.

  "You're not alone."

  He slipped his arms around her shoulders and drew her close. That she didn't pull back, but leaned into him, was encouraging. He wanted to help her—knew she needed his help—if only she'd let down the barriers.

  In his arms, he felt her tremble. Gently, he tipped up her chin. "You okay?"

  She nodded, her gaze locked on his face. Her eyes were the blue of a summer day, and in them he saw a longing that matched his. When she licked her lips, he knew neither of them was okay. From the first time they'd met, she'd created in him a yearning. Maybe she wasn't the princess in his sister's story, but Bernadette was special. Leaning his head closer, he claimed her lips.

  Her mouth moved with his, open and giving, asking and receiving. Her lips were explored, then her cheeks and her throat. Her coat and his jacket were opened, and he found a way under her sweater to the warmth of her skin, felt her pulling at his shirt, drawing it free from his jeans. Soft, warm flesh slid under his fingers until he came to a silky barrier. First he explored, circling the smooth mounds of her breasts, then he rubbed his palms over the hard nubs that peaked each. Her groan was his signal to go on, to search out the clasp that held her captive.

  As he freed her breasts, she slid her hands under his shirt, the delicate touch of her fingers triggering the tightening of his muscles and the constriction of his stomach. He kissed her deep, the dart of his tongue parried by hers. The blood pooled in his loins, the need for a release becoming uncomfortably strong. She rubbed her hips against his, the groan escaping her lips matching his, and whether or not they would make love ceased to be the question. Where was now the problem. He drew his head back, and glanced around the small office.

  Through the window looking out on shipping and receiving, he saw the door they'd come through earlier begin to open. Immediately, he stilled, his arms tightening around Bernadette. "Someone's coming into the store," he whispered near her ear.

  Her body stiffened in his embrace. "Who?" she asked, the word a strangled groan.

  "I'm not sure." But he was sure they were at a disadvantage. The light they'd turned on illuminated them clearly while the figure in the doorway was no more than a silhouette.

  Quickly, Bernadette disengaged her hands from under his shirt. Pulling her coat closed in front of her, she faced the doorway. Cody heard her sigh. "It's the security guard."

  She stepped away from him, touching her hair as she did. Cody watched. Not a strand was out of place, yet she fussed. The guard came toward Ben's office, and she opened the door before he reached it. "Where have you been?" she demanded, overriding any question the guard might have had.

  The man stopped, his gaze jumping between her and where Cody stood. His expression was curious, but he kept his words cautious. "I was checking the outside of the building."

  "Someone was in this office," Bernadette said, her tone accusing. "No more than five minutes ago. He ran out when I came down from my office. You didn't see anything?"

  "Nothing." The man glanced around the office. "I must have been on the other side of the building. Was anything taken?"

  "We were just checking." She glanced Cody's way. "This is a friend of mine."

  The security guard nodded, then looked back at her. "None of the doors were open when I checked."

  "And you're sure you saw no one? Maybe one of the employees? Perhaps Mr. Waite?"

  "No one," the guard said firmly.

  "Then I suggest you check shipping and receiving thoroughly because someone was down here, someone who didn't want to be seen."

  The facade of control firmly in place, she stepped toward the door. "We might as well go, Cody. This is what we're paying him to do."

  Cody followed her lead, nodding toward the security guard as they passed. It wasn't until they were in the alleyway, the door closed behind them, that Bernadette released a sigh and laughed uneasily. "Nothing like being found in a compromising position."

  Cody caught her arm, stopping her progress toward the street and their cars. "It wasn't as compromising as it could have been."

  She stared at him, her gaze darting from his earrings, to his gold chain, to his jeans. Quickly, she looked back up from there. "I don't know what it is. Every time I'm around you—"

  "We both know what it is," he said, through playing games. "I want to make love with you, and I think you want to make love with me."

  The light above the door gave her skin a greenish tinge, and Cody wondered if Dumb John had been this aroused by his green princess. Fairy tales didn't deal with hormones, only morals, and what he was thinking was definitely immoral. "Come to my place."

  Chapter Nine

  Bernadette kept her gaze on the truck ahead, its taillights glowing like twin bouncing rubies on a backdrop of empty streets and murky darkness. She could still change her mind, she told herself. If she wanted, she could turn around and head for her apartment. There was no cable linking Cody's truck to her car, no reason she had to make every turn he made. She was in control of her life.

  In complete control

  "Right," she said aloud, and then laughed at the irony.

  Control was when you planned your actions and reactions and behaved accordingly. Control meant the unexpected didn't come strolling down an alley and almost lure you into making love in a co-worker's office.

  The muscles in her stomach tightened, and she smiled into the darkness. It had been a long time since a man had been able to excite her as much as Cody did. Too damn long.

  Tonight, she would spend a few hours in his company, relieve some of the tension. This was sex, and nothing more. Sleeping with Cody had nothing to do with love or relationships or silly fairy tales. Nothing at all.

  * * *

  Cody got out of his truck and waited as Bernadette turned off her car's lights and grabbed her purse. His insides were coiled as tight as a spring, but he kept his posture relaxed. That she'd come was amazing. When she'd insisted on taking her own car and following him, he'd been sure she would change her mind and make a beeline for her apartment as soon as they left the parking garage.

  All the way from the store to his place, he'd kept glancing into his rear view mirror, waiting for those headlights to veer off. The closer they came to his drive, the greater the tension. Now he didn't know what to say.

  She stepped up beside him, and he sucked in a deep breath of cold night air and looked up at the cloud-covered sky. "Think spring will ever come?"

  "No."

  The one word was all she gave, and he looked down at her face. His yard light had come on automatically as they'd neared the house. It illuminated her features, but didn't penetrate beneath those long lashes and cool blue eyes. How he would love to know what she was thinking. Feeling. Were her insides as quivery as his?

  He slid an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. "Come on, let's get inside where it's warmer."

  Together they walked up the stone steps to his carved doors. Once inside, he took her coat and hung it on a hook, then removed his own jacket. Nervously, he rubbed his hands together, and glanced toward the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? Wine? Coffee?"

  "No."

  Again, it was just the one word. She wasn't going to make this easy for him. Usually a woman asked for something, even if she didn't want it and never drank it. The act of fixing a drink allowed a little time, switched the focus of why they were there, and gave them something to talk about. Now he was left with silence. He glanced toward the back door. "I'm surprised Thor didn't bark when we pulled up."

  "Where is your dog?" Bernadette looked a
round.

  "Outside." Cody walked toward one of the back windows. "He has a kennel. When I have to be away a long time, and can't take him with me, I put him out there."

  Thor was in the kennel, looking toward the house. Cody knew the dog expected him to step outside any minute. He wouldn't understand being left out all night.

  There were a lot of things Cody didn't understand.

  Slowly, he walked back to Bernadette. "He's got a thick coat. He'll be fine."

  "Mopsy's probably wondering where I am. I never knew how possessive and demanding a dog could be. And I never thought I'd be sleeping with a dog."

  "I've been called worse."

  She smiled for the first time. "You know what I mean."

  He knew. He also remembered she'd once said she didn't like dogs. "You actually sleep with her?"

  Bernadette shrugged. "It wasn't something I planned. In fact, six months ago if you'd told me I'd be sleeping with a dog, I would have told you, you were crazy."

  "People change. Preconceived ideas can change." His had certainly changed about her.

  She lifted her eyebrows, and he knew she understood. "What about you? Do you sleep with your dog?"

  "No. And don't ask why."

  Again, the eyebrows went up. "Now you've made me curious."

  "Sleep with me, and I'll tell you."

  Cody held out his hand, but Bernadette didn't take it. Her gaze traveled up the steps, then back to his face. "I don't know. Maybe this isn't a good idea."

  He saw the apprehension in her eyes. He felt a little himself. "Something gets lost, doesn't it, when you have to drive ten miles to find a bed? Some of the spontaneity . . . the loss of control."

  Immediately her chin went up. "You think I always have to be in control, don't you?"

  "Don't you?"

  She shook her head. "It's not a matter of control, it's just that I don't like making mistakes."

  "Do you think this is a mistake?" He touched her cheek, grazing the backs of his fingers over velvety smooth skin.

  "Probably." She put a hand over his. "All we're talking about is tonight, right? Just tonight. I don't want you to think—"

  "That this is some fairy tale?" He nodded. "I understand."

  Bernadette wished she did. She wanted to run, to escape before it was too late, but she stood where she was, trapped by the sweet desire she saw in his eyes and a matching need within herself. "We're both mature adults."

  "Very mature."

  She glared at him. "You're making fun of me."

  "No, but I don't think we need to rationalize what we're about to do."

  She needed a rational reason. It was so insane. "I'm not exactly a hot lover."

  Cody chuckled. "I don't believe that. You certainly weren't the ice princess in Ben's office."

  "That, ah—" Was something she couldn't explain.

  "That was just the beginning," Cody said and swooped her off her feet.

  "What are you doing?" she cried, automatically wrapping her arms around his neck.

  "Carrying you up the stairs."

  He made it sound so normal. "You can't"

  "I think I am."

  "You'll hurt yourself, pull something."

  He laughed. "I must admit, you're not as light as I thought you'd be."

  She stiffened in his arms. "Put me down!"

  "A little edgy about your weight?"

  "My weight is perfectly fine."

  "Everything about you is perfectly fine."

  "Sure, that's what you think now. Cody, you're going to injure yourself. This is crazy. You're crazy."

  "That's what my stepbrothers always say. You know what? Maybe I am."

  They reached the top of the stairs, but Cody didn't put her down. She pulled in her legs when he carried her through the doorway of his bedroom, and she laughed when she saw his bed. "Oh great, Romeo. Are we going to make love or spend the night reading?"

  "We—" he said breathlessly. "Are going to make love."

  He set her down next to his bed and quickly grabbed the books scattered across his comforter. Bernadette noticed some of the titles. Laws and Rules Relating to Residential Builders. Michigan Administrative Code. Michigan Compiled Laws. " A little light reading?"

  "Part of the job."

  The stack he piled on his lamp stand fell over, and he grinned her way. "That's how I got my name. Dumb John. The clumsy one."

  "You're not clumsy," she said and helped him with the books.

  "I am around you." He threw himself on top of the comforter face up, as if testing the mattress. "Clumsy. Awkward. And completely dumbfounded."

  "Dumbfounded?" she repeated, feeling awkward herself and not quite sure what to do other than stand by the bed looking down at him.

  "Dumbfounded. Baffled." Reaching up, he pulled her down on top of him.

  "Cody!"

  "That's my name."

  He shifted his weight on the bed, positioning her so her hips were on his, his arousal unmistakable. His expression turned serious. "I didn't think you'd come tonight."

  She knew the joking had come to an end. The hesitancy in his voice said he was as unsure as she felt. "I couldn't seem to stop myself."

  No more than she could stop herself from leaning forward and touching her lips to his, from letting her fingers explore through his hair and trace the outline of his left ear, finding each of the gold loops that pierced the lobe. "What is it about you? From that first day in the veterinarian's office, you've had me confused and . . . and—"

  "Horny?"

  She could feel the bulge under his zipper. Leaning back, she grinned. "I think that's a word that better fits you."

  "No doubt about it." With the agility of a cat, he turned her so she was under him, and he was the one on top.

  She laughed. "I should have known you wouldn't let me stay in control."

  "You've been in control for the last two weeks, have been driving me out of my mind, and now I'm going to make love to you, Bernadette Sanders." He spread her legs with his knees. "To you and with you. I want to know you from the inside out, to be a part of you."

  To know you is to love you, her grandmother always said. But when people knew her, they left. Her mother. Her father. Even Parker.

  She said nothing.

  Cody's hands moved to her hair, and the pins that held her efficient, business-like twist in place fell away. He combed his fingers through the freed tresses, fanning it out around her face, then lifting one strand of pale gold and another, letting each shift through his fingers. "Your hair is like silk," he said and smiled. "Your skin like velvet."

  His gaze dropped to her sweater, and through the soft cashmere fibers he touched her breasts, first one, then the other. Her nipples hardened, and like eager children wanting to be recognized, pressed against her bra and his palm. In her car, she'd re-snapped her bra. Now it was too confining.

  Her sweater stretched as Cody pulled it up and over her head. Casually, he tossed it aside, and concentrated on her bra, the nylon cups revealing more than they concealed. Bernadette tried not to respond when he slowly drug the side of a finger over the soft swell of one breast, but it was impossible to ignore the muscles tightening between her legs and the quivering sensation in her stomach. He reached around and once again released the clasp of her bra, then, for a moment, simply stared at her breasts.

  She touched his face, cradling it in her hands, then guided his mouth to the objects of his regard. Like a man starved for nourishment, he fastened on a nipple, sucking greedily. She too was starved. Gasping at her own reaction, she moved her hands through his hair, holding him to her. A line was drawn from his mouth to between her legs, the pull of his lips increasing the hunger.

  Only when he'd drawn from both of her nipples did he pause. Sitting back on his haunches, he stared at her, his hair now disheveled from the exploration of her hands. He looked like a wild man, but his hesitant touch was gentle and civilized. "Why is it I like everything about you?" he asked, the husk
iness in his voice hinting at the fragility of his control.

  "Do you?" She wasn't so naive as to believe a man in the throes of passion.

  "Oh, yes. I like the way you look, and the way you move. I even like the way you talk, especially when you smile and laugh. It's cute the way you try not to show any emotions, pretend you don't care."

  She didn't want to be thought of as cute, and she didn't like the emotions he was touching. "Maybe I'm not pretending."

  "If that's what you think, then your actions are calling you a liar."

  "Maybe you're seeing what you want to see, but when you really get to know me . . ."

  "What?"

  What? was the question she couldn't answer. What made men leave her? What did she lack?

  Bernadette shook her head. He couldn't leave because she wasn't going to stay. This was for tonight, and only for tonight. A tryst. Wasn't that what her grandmother called it? A one night stand was probably a better description. "Are you going to make love to me or talk?"

  "I am going to make love to you," he said with total conviction.

  There was clothing to be dealt with, however. Hers. His. Her sweater and bra were already lying by the side of the bed. She pulled at his shirt, tossing it aside. He asked for the lights out. She objected. "I want to see you."

  He chuckled and commanded the lights back on.

  Next came her shoes and slacks. Getting undressed wasn't a quick endeavor. The removal of each item was paired with a kiss. His boots were good for two. Long kisses, each making her blood simmer. After that came his jeans. They were down to her pantyhose and panties, and his socks and briefs. Of course, the gold chain remained around his neck. She knew without saying that the chain would stay.

  Arching over her, he teasingly rubbed his hips against hers. She groaned, pressing her palms against his chest. If the gesture was meant to stop him, she forgot the objective as soon as she touched the mat of brown hairs that tapered to his briefs. If she was silk and velvet, he was the earth, solid and strong.

  Again, he rubbed himself over her, and she slid her hands around his neck, positive he was driving her insane. When his fingertips slipped under the waistband of her pantyhose, she automatically arched her hips, allowing him the freedom to completely strip her. Next went his briefs. He eased on a shield of protection, and she silently thanked him and admonished herself for not thinking of that. The wild need pulsating through her had wiped out all coherent thoughts. Somewhere along the way, she had lost control, and it no longer seemed to matter.