I stiffened at the flirtation but tried to remain polite. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t answer honestly.”
With an exaggerated, beleaguered sigh, Cole crossed his arms on the other side of the desk and leaned toward me. My breath hitched at the heat in his expression as he stared down at me. “I pride myself on being straightforward.”
Willing my body to stop reacting to him, I stepped back from the desk and turned around to grab my jacket off the coat hook behind me. As I shrugged into it, I very deliberately met Cole’s still glittering gaze. “I pride myself on being professional.”
The door to the studio blew open, stalling whatever Cole’s response would be, and distracting us from the crackling tension between us. Rae stomped inside and slammed the door shut with a grunt.
Cole’s body language changed as he took in her red face and blazing eyes. His back straightened and his hands fisted at his side. “What happened?”
“My roommate just fucked off! I woke up and she’d fucking packed every fucking thing she owned and fucked off with that fucking Malaysian dude she met a month ago! Fuck!” She stomped her foot, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “How the fuck am I going to pay the rent?”
Despite the voice screaming in my head that it was a very, very bad idea, I found myself saying, “I’m looking for a place.”
Rae rolled her eyes. “I don’t think so.”
Ouch. “Well, why not?” I crossed my arms over my chest, annoyed by the immediate dismissal.
“I can’t be worrying about walking on eggshells in my own place. Shit pours out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I need to be around people that can hack the fucking awesomeness that is me.”
I heard Cole laugh but refused to look at him as I made my case. “I never said I wanted to move in with you. I just said I’m looking for a place. Where is your flat? How much is rent?”
She gave me a look that suggested she was merely humoring me. “King Street. Literally just around the corner.” She told me what rent and council tax was each month excluding half of the utilities. It was quite a lot. “It’s a nice flat,” she said, taking in my dubious expression.
It was a little more than I’d been hoping to pay, but it was just around the corner from work. Although I had to wonder if living with Rae would balance out the positive aspects. Then again, it would be a while before any letting agent would allow me to sign a lease—I had to prove I’d been in work for three months. The thought of staying in that pokey wee hotel for three months . . .
“I cook. I clean. I keep to myself.”
Rae considered me for a second and then threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Fuck, I’ve no fucking choice! Fine! You can have the fucking room.”
Blinking rapidly at the overuse of profanity spilling from her mouth, I said, “I’d like to see it first.”
Her face turned red again. “It’s a nice fucking flat with a double room. Don’t you trust me?”
Feeling Cole’s eyes burning into me, I flicked a look at him and then turned my focus back to Rae. “I don’t trust anyone,” I answered coolly.
Rae stared at me for a few seconds before the red in her face disappeared. She grinned at me, her eyes alight with humor now. “I like you,” she announced as though she were a queen granting a great honor. “You’re moving in.”
“But—”
“Tonight. No faffing about. Rent’s due at the end of the month. Oh.” She ran her eyes over me warily. “No clown paraphernalia.”
My mouth fell open. “Eh?”
“Clowns are evil.” She strode through the studio toward the back room. “Someone get me something to eat. I’ve had a fucking awful morning.”
My eyes met Cole’s. His were laughing. Mine were not. “What just happened?”
He grinned. “I think Rae just adopted you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“It’s not so bad. It’s like living with your own personal Rottweiler.”
I made a face. “Except Rottweilers are friendly.”
Cole snorted. “This one isn’t.”
* * *
“This is everything?” Rae stared at the boxes piled around my feet.
I was standing outside her door in her apartment building on King Street. By the time I’d gotten everything together and into a taxi I couldn’t really afford, night had fallen. Now Rae stood in her doorway wearing pajama shorts and a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt that had seen better days.
“I don’t need a lot.” I tried to peek into the flat. My reservations over moving in with this seemingly crazy woman were abated somewhat by the parquet flooring I could see beyond her.
Rae seemed to contemplate this for a moment and I suddenly found myself uncomfortable with the fact that I had very little in the way of possessions. It didn’t occur to me until now that that might invite questions as to why. Most people had loads of crap to their name.
“Okay.” Rae shrugged and bent down to pick up a box. “Let’s get this shit inside before my nipples freeze off.”
Charming.
I huffed out air between my lips and followed her inside.
My new colleague and now flatmate hadn’t been lying. The flat was nice. It had a decent-sized modern kitchen, a small but cozy sitting room with a balcony off it, and two good-sized double rooms. We shared a bathroom, but it was almost as big as the kitchen, so I wasn’t complaining. After dumping my boxes in my room, Rae left me to unpack.
Once I’d unpacked my measly amount of clothing into a wardrobe from IKEA, I began unpacking my sketch pads, pencils, and charcoals. Not wanting anyone, as in Rae, to see my work, I shoved it under the bed. I was standing there holding my current sketch pad when the door to my bedroom flew open. Heart in my throat, I dropped to my knees and slid the pad under the bed before Rae could see it.
I looked up to find Rae frozen in my doorway carrying a cup that had steam rising out of the top of it. She took in the sight of me on my knees and grinned. “No need to worry about hiding your vibrators, Shannon. You’ll probably hear mine through the wall. I have the Rabbit. It’s a classic for a reason you know.” She thrust the cup out at me. “Tea. I guessed milk and two sugars.”
Still flustered and a little stunned, I stood up and reached for the tea she’d made just how I liked it. “Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling like an idiot.
Rae smirked and left the room, closing the door behind her.
My shoulders slumped as I turned to stare at my hidden artwork. I felt my throat close with emotion, mostly frustration, that I’d been reduced to acting like a bumbling fool in order to hide my art from people. I never used to hide. I never used to act like this.
Not until . . .
“Why do you bother with that crap? It’s not like you’re any good at it.”
“And what do you know about art?”
“Enough to know you’ve not got any talent, babe.”
The memories flooded me, zapping my energy, and I stumbled to the bed. Staring at the blank wall in front of me, I tried to fight them back, the hand not holding the hot cup of tea curled so tight into a fist my fingernails bit into my skin.
* * *
Once I got my emotions under control, I finished packing and decided to get acquainted with my new flatmate. I didn’t want Rae to think I was antisocial, although perhaps she would prefer it if I was. I’d find out soon enough.
Instead of Rae, I found Cole in the sitting room. I almost tripped over my feet at the sight of him on the armchair near the balcony, his right ankle hooked over his left knee. My eyes drank in his long-limbed body before I could stop myself. When they eventually traveled upward, Cole was staring at me with this knowing, cocky little grin on his lips.
His very, very kissable lips.
Man, he was annoying.
“Thought you might want to join a few of us for a drink to celebrate the job and the flat.”
Processing how comfortable and at ease Cole seemed in Rae’s flat, I felt my eye
s narrowing as they scanned the room. They stopped on a large black digital photo frame. Every few seconds the picture would change and in among pictures of Rae with people I had never met were lots of pictures of Rae, Cole, Simon, and some Italian-looking bloke I could only assume was Tony.
Bugger.
Rae and Cole weren’t just colleagues; they were friends. All of them were good friends. This meant I not only had to dodge Cole at work but I had to bloody well dodge him in my own home.
He was beyond annoying.
“I’m kind of tired,” I said, looking anywhere but at him.
“Rubbish!”
This came from Rae. I turned around as she strode into the sitting room now dressed in jeans, a Celine Dion T-shirt that seemed incongruous to her personality, and a black leather jacket. “Get your shoes on,” she said. “You’re bloody well coming with us.”
“I don’t think—”
“Bollocks to whatever you’re going to say.”
Assessing her authoritative tone and demeanor, I didn’t take long to surmise that I was not getting out of this. Instead of glaring at Rae, I shot a glower at Cole. “You knew exactly what I was getting into and didn’t do a thing to stop me.” I stomped out of the room, ignoring the delicious sound of Cole’s laughter.
* * *
I was introduced to identical twins Grant and Patrick and Grant’s girlfriend, Karen. They were Cole’s friends from art school and Rae had adopted them too. Grant and Karen owned a small gallery and a professional photography business. Patrick was working toward qualifying as an architect. They were all very friendly and welcoming, but the uneasiness I felt as we joined them in Rae’s local pub, the Walk, wouldn’t dissipate. I felt I had no one to blame but Cole.
As soon as we sat down, Cole somehow finagled it so he was sitting next to me in the booth that curved around the table. Almost immediately he pressed his thigh against mine. With Rae squashed in on my other side, there was nowhere to go and no way to remove myself from physical contact with Cole.
Heat burned into my jeans where we touched and I tried—oh, how I tried—to ignore his presence and listen to his friends talk about work and the odd things people said in galleries.
“You have the best hair I’ve ever seen,” Karen suddenly said to me.
Everyone laughed at the random comment.
“She does, though,” Karen insisted. “I’d love to photograph you.”
“Me?” I was bemused by the notion.
“Yes, you.” Karen smiled. “You’d make a great subject.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, I fucking knew it.” Rae groaned.
I looked at her in question and she frowned in response.
“You’re one of those.”
“One of what?”
“A pretty girl who doesn’t know she’s pretty. Pisses me off.”
If I were prone to blushing, I’d be a tomato.
“I think it’s great,” Cole said.
Without thinking about it, I turned my head to look up at him.
He smiled that soft, boyish smile of his and reached out to touch my hair. “Nothing sexier than a woman who doesn’t know she’s gorgeous.”
I hated the way my stomach fluttered at his attention, at his compliments. I’d been paid those kinds of compliments before, and my reaction to them had brought me nothing but trouble. Turning away, I was thankful for Rae breaking the sudden tension with “Bollocks! Nothing sexier than a man or woman who knows that they are sexy as fuck.” She looked down at me, seeming to brim with years of experience despite the fact that she was only twenty-eight and thus only a few years older than me. “Your lack of height makes you cute mixed with stunning. Own it. Rock that fucking hair and those fucking eyes. Then you’ll be sexy.” She grinned and preened. “Like me.”
Patrick nodded, smiling at Rae in appreciation. “I have to admit that was sexy.”
She threw him a flirtatious grin. “Down, boy. I’m already spoken for.”
Surprised, I was about to ask Rae who she was dating when I felt the lightest touch on my lower back. I tensed.
Cole was touching me.
I glanced up at him.
With his thigh pressed to mine, his fingertips on my back, and his gaze boring into mine, words deserted me. The noise in the pub seemed muffled all of a sudden, like an invisible wall had encircled Cole and me.
His fingers pressed deeper and my body began to tingle.
The sound of a glass shattering loudly broke the spell between us and I jerked back, bumping into Rae. Something like annoyance flickered in Cole’s eyes, but I adamantly turned away, shifting closer to Rae, who was too busy mocking Patrick about getting his eyebrows waxed to notice I was trying to crawl my way into her lap to escape the sexual tension between me and our boss.
* * *
I’d never been so thankful to get away from someone in my life. Sure, there were times I’d been stuck in conversation with people that bored me or offended me, and that was never fun. However, being stuck in close proximity with the ultimate daydream-worthy bad boy whose clothes you wanted to rip off despite the fact that you knew he wasn’t right for you was worse. A lot worse.
In fact, it was downright upsetting.
I berated myself the whole way back to the flat, wondering what the hell was wrong with me that after everything I’d been through I could still be attracted to the likes of Cole Walker.
Inside the flat, I kicked off my shoes in a tantrum with myself.
Rae snorted as she shrugged off her jacket. “You’ve certainly caught Walker’s eye.”
I flinched. So it was that obvious? Channeling the depths of my dislike of the bad-boy species into my expression, I lifted my gaze to Rae’s and stated firmly, “I’m not interested.”
Rae jerked back at my tone and quickly her surprise melted away. She looked . . . impressed? “I actually believe that. A woman that hasn’t fallen at Cole’s feet. Will wonders never cease?” She grinned. “I knew I liked you.”
I laughed softly, tiredly, and bade Rae good night. I was almost at my bedroom door when she called out my name. “Yeah?”
She strolled toward the door next to mine with a swagger in her slender hips. “My boyfriend, Mike, works back shift tonight—he’s a nurse. He usually comes over late and we like to fuck loudly. There are a pack of earplugs in the sideboard drawer in the hall.”
* * *
A few hours later I was awakened by squealing. It didn’t take me long to work out that the squealing, followed by male grunts, was Rae and her man having sex. Loudly. Just as promised.
Slightly mortified I hadn’t taken Rae at her word (and now knew way more about her than I’d ever wanted to), I quietly hurried out into the hall, snatched up the earplugs, and hurried back to bed. To my everlasting relief, the earplugs muffled the noise enough I could drift back to sleep. But I did so on the thought that I had never met anyone like Rae. I didn’t quite know yet whether that was a good or a bad thing.
* * *
The dog—I think it was a Welsh terrier—was tied to the lamppost on the opposite side of the street. He’d been there for the last three hours since his master had tied him there and wandered into the pub. My chest ached with how miserable he looked as the spring temperature dipped when the clouds obscured the sun.
He shivered and I cursed his master to hell for leaving him there for that length of time.
My anger had begun simmering two hours ago and showed no sign of losing heat.
“You all right?”
I jerked around at Cole’s voice. He stood on the opposite side of the reception desk, his eyebrows puckered in concern.
I gestured to the dog outside our window, visible through the street traffic. I couldn’t help the sadness in my voice as I said, “Some people shouldn’t be allowed to own a dog.”
Cole seemed confused.
“He’s been there all morning,” I explained.
The confusion melted from his expression only
to be replaced by that soft look that was a hundred times worse than his smoldering one. “Gives my clients chocolate when they’re feeling faint, can handle Rae better than most people, feels sorry for strange dogs, is gorgeous but doesn’t know it, and has shit hot taste in music.” His voice lowered to an unbelievably sexy rumble. “Are you perfect, Shannon MacLeod?”
My pulse started to race. Shuttering my expression, I looked down at the file I’d been in the middle of scanning. I’d worked at INKarnate for three days and had barely made a dent in the files. “I’d really like you to stop flirting with me,” I said primly.
The sound of movement brought my head up, and my eyes widened at the sight of Cole rounding the desk. I leaned back as he deliberately crowded me in against it, his hands coming to rest on the desk at either side of me. My breathing stuttered as the air thickened. Heat danced from his body to mine, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop the tingling between my legs or the swelling in my breasts as he stared down at me with blatant sexual intention.
He lowered his head and I braced myself. Instead of kissing me, though, he murmured against my mouth, “That might be a problem for me.”
The sound of the front door opening drew Cole back from me, and I gratefully gulped in some air. I felt like a total idiot.
“Tamara,” Cole said, surprise in his voice. Catching sight of the pleased smile on his face, I whirled around to have a look at this Tamara person.
I frowned.
A tall, curvy brunette was walking across the studio toward Cole with a huge smile on her pretty face. She enveloped him in a hug, so tall in her high-heeled boots that they were the same height.
They fit perfectly together.
Something I was determined not to admit was a wave of jealousy slashed in a fiery pain across my chest.
“What are you doing here?” Cole asked as they stepped back from their embrace.
Tamara shrugged with an excited smile. “I’m here on a talent scout and was hoping you might be able to fit me in. I know it’s last minute and you’re a very busy boy.”
Fit her in? Busy boy?