After a few long breaths, he succeeded.
There was so much glass on the room’s western exposure that the effect was like being outside. A wall of mirrored, sliding closet doors reflected the grand view.
Beyond the room, fuchsias in every shade from pale pink to royal purple tumbled out of hanging baskets, making tiny waterfalls of pure color. Lush greenery trailed down the hillside next to a rock stairway. An artificial waterfall fell into a swimming pool that had been designed to resemble a natural body of water. Potted plants, flagstone patios, and multilevel wooden decks surrounded the irregular shape of the pool.
The sound of rushing water was both soothing and sensual. It was a seductive, murmured invitation to let go and float on the warm breast of the water, drifting amid the heady aromas of flowers, mint, and untamed chaparral.
Thinking about swimming with Shelley in that pool beneath a midnight sky shortened Cain’s breath. Abruptly he turned away from the view.
The first thing he saw was her bed. It was covered in a vivid bedspread that repeated the colors of the flower garden and pool outside. The bed itself was positioned beneath a transparent skylight.
He would have given a lot to lie tangled with her beneath the stars.
The pillowcase thumped and bounced against his leg, reminding him of why he was in the bedroom of the most intriguing woman he had met in a long, long time.
Wrong reason, he told himself curtly.
Right place, right woman. Like they say, two out of three ain’t bad.
Think about something else. Anything else.
Shelley brushed past Cain on the way to the closet. She flinched as though she was startled to find anyone else in the room but her.
“Sorry,” she said automatically.
I’m not, he thought. You feel good.
But all he said aloud was, “No problem.”
Through narrowed eyes he watched her slide open one of the big mirrored closet doors. She shoved hangers to one side and bent over, tugging at a huge aquarium that was in the bottom of her closet. The glass rectangle was as stubborn as it was heavy.
Cain checked the knot on the lacy pillowcase and set it on the bed.
“Stay there,” he muttered to the lively snake.
The lace jerked and seethed.
With a final wary glance at the pillowcase, he went to the closet.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“What?”
Instead of answering, he lifted the aquarium past her and set it on the rug.
“Planning to raise sharks?” he asked mildly.
“That’s about all that could survive Nudge.”
“Likes sushi, huh?”
“Only if it’s still wiggling. This aquarium was full of the most beautiful fish . . .” She sighed.
“What happened?”
“Nudge went swimming.”
He snickered.
“The fish that survived were never the same,” she said. “I gave them to a neighborhood kid, siphoned out the aquarium, and dragged it into the closet.”
“Is that where you’re going to keep Squeeze?”
“Aquarium, yes. Closet, no. Too cold.”
Thoughtfully she looked around the room. Then she pointed to the north corner, where a deep bookcase held art books.
“Over there, “she said. “It’s warm enough but not too warm. Wouldn’t want to cook the poor devil.”
“Nudge?”
“Squeeze.”
“My pleasure.”
He brought Shelley close and hugged her gently.
“But you agreed we weren’t strangers.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re kissing cousins.”
“You’re sure?” he asked, brushing against her lips. “Let’s explore our family trees.”
Just before she would have objected more forcefully, he released her. As though nothing had happened, he picked up the awkward, heavy aquarium and walked toward the bookcase.
“Wait,” she said.
She rushed past him and began pulling out books until she had cleared a space as long as the aquarium.
“There. See if it fits.”
He lifted the aquarium and slid it onto the middle shelf of the tall bookcase. There was just enough room at the top for Shelley to have access to the aquarium, but not enough for Nudge to go swimming. Or hiking.
“Perfect,” she announced. “Now for the sand and rocks.”
She opened one of the sliding glass doors and vanished around the side of the house.
Curious, Cain tucked the aquarium under his arm looked around the corner of the house. There was a potting shed. In addition to the usual peat moss and dirt, there were bags of sand. Shelley was scooping sand into a one-gallon pail.
He set the aquarium down on the patio and watched, wondering why she wanted to fill the big glass container a bucket at a time instead of just pouring sand straight from the bag.
When she finished filling the bucket, she braced her feet and lifted. Abruptly he understood. His arm shot past her. His hand wrapped around the bucket’s wire handle.
“I’m the beast of burden, remember?” he asked. “You’re the beauty who thinks up new ways to work me.”
“Huh?”
“I knew you’d understand.”
Cain returned to the patio and dumped the bucket of sand into the waiting aquarium. Then he went back and grabbed the bag of sand.
“Wait,” she said.
He looked at her.
“Once it’s filled with sand, won’t it be too heavy?” she asked.
“For the bookcase?”
“To lift.”
“You really are used to living alone, aren’t you?” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“You think in terms of what you can do by yourself.”
He almost smiled at the intent line her eyebrows made as she tried to understand what he was thinking.
“Take this aquarium,” he said.
“I’d rather not.”
“That’s my point exactly.”
“What is?” she asked.
“Empty, you could have dragged the aquarium into place on the bookshelf somehow.”
She nodded.
“Full, it would be too heavy for you,” he said. “But for me, no problem.”
“Your point is that you’re stronger than I am? Now there’s a bulletin.”
“My point is that you didn’t think about using any strength but your own.”
“So?”
“So you aren’t used to having a man around.”
Shelley hesitated, looked into his clear gray eyes, then turned away without saying anything. She was unsettled by his insight into her life.
Into her.
She wasn’t accustomed to being around people who saw beyond their own needs. She wasn’t sure she liked it. Cain brought an uncontrolled element into the comfortable arrangement of her life.
Comfortable? she thought. Or predictable. Maybe a bit too predictable.
Maybe “dull” is the word I’m looking for. God knows Brian has used it to describe my life more than once.
But then, Brian’s idea of interesting was something like JoLynn.
While Cain finished adding sand to the aquarium, Shelley went out into the garden and gathered several smooth, flat, fist-sized ornamental rocks. Without a word to him, she arranged the rocks on top of the sand.
A quick trip to the kitchen produced a pottery saucer. She sank it flush with the sand and added some water.
“Ready,” she said. “Need help hoisting it into the bookcase?”
“Let’s find out.”
He bent, scooped up the aquarium, and carried it into the bedroom.
“So far, so good,” he said.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Me? I don’t have the breath. This is soooo heavy.”
“I’ll get even.”
“Promise?” he asked.
She took one look at his lazy smile and bit
her tongue, ruffled by his deadpan teasing.
It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was rather like sipping good champagne, dry and fizzy and sweetly biting all at once.
Maybe Brian was right, she thought. Maybe my life is just a wee bit boring.
Or was. Nothing about Cain Remington is boring.
On the other hand, St. George probably felt the same way about the dragon.
From the corner of her eye, she watched as Cain fitted the aquarium into the bookcase. The strength in his arms and back was apparent with each smooth shift of muscle and tendon. He had rolled up the sleeves of his blue chambray shirt. The power of his forearms was softened by a shimmer of hair bleached gold from the sun.
She remembered how easily he had controlled the heavy, powerful bike, and how gently he had held her. His combination of strength and restraint was as compelling to her senses as the combined scents of chaparral and flowers.
The temptation to run her fingertips over the shifting gleam of male hair and tanned skin was almost overwhelming.
Not a good idea, she told herself.
She didn’t believe it.
Not a safe idea.
She believed that. But it didn’t worry her as much as it should have.
Hurriedly she switched her attention to the bed. A blue pillowcase rippled and bulged as though alive.
“Snake, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” she said. “Freedom is at hand. Sort of.”
She untied the pillowcase, opened it wide, and grabbed Squeeze just behind his darting, rosy-beige head.
“Gotcha. Now hold still.”
The snake wasn’t having any of it. He wasn’t a happy reptile. He had been stuffed into a lace sack, driven through traffic, dumped on a bed, and ignored. He was looking for something to chew on.
Shelley knew it. She was careful not to provide Squeeze with a target.
“If you would just hold still,” she said.
He didn’t.
“Have it your way.”
She lifted the snake higher and let him thrash free of the dainty pillowcase all by himself.
“I’ll take the middle,” Cain said.
“Is the aquarium ready?” she asked.
“I hope so.”
“On three. One. Two. Three.”
Together they gently stuffed Squeeze into his new home.
For a time Cain watched the snake glide swiftly around the inside of the glass cage, testing everything within reach of its dark, forked tongue.
“What’s to keep him from crawling out?” he asked.
“The lid.”
“What lid?”
She made a startled sound and raced to the closet.
While he watched, two pairs of hiking boots and a yellow rain slicker tumbled out into the bedroom, followed by a sleeping bag and a lightweight aluminum mess kit. All that was visible of Shelley was her nicely rounded bottom as she burrowed into the contents of her closet floor.
He leaned against the bookcase, crossed his arms, and enjoyed the view.
And he wondered if she felt half as good as she looked.
With any other woman, he simply would have walked across the room and run his palms over the feminine curves. Shelley, however, was not any other woman. She was a woman who had chosen to live very much alone. There was no sign that any man had been in her home long enough to leave a shaving ring around the sink, much less spent enough time for her to count on a man’s strong arm for help.
Why? he thought curiously.
It wasn’t that she lacked passion. She had responded to his kiss in a way that made blood gather heavily in his body. Yet she also had retreated in the next breath, shock and surprise clear in her hazel eyes.
The contradictions that were Shelley Wilde tantalized him. Like the house, she had a civilized exterior that was sophisticated and pleasing. Beneath that was an elemental wildness that called to Cain’s male senses like nothing he had ever encountered in his life. He got hard just looking at her.
If she doesn’t stand up straight soon, I won’t be able to, he thought wryly. Damn, but that woman has a fine ass.
She crawled backward out of the closet, face flushed. Then she dragged a rectangle of thick glass triumphantly from the closet and turned toward him.
“Found it,” she said.
He smiled, watching her supple movements as she came to her feet. He thought about what it would be like to be in a glass cage with her, those long legs wrapped around him and his body locked deeply with hers.
The thought did nothing to cool the heat of his blood. Nor did the realization that her bedroom was very much like a glass cage, but instead of sand, there was a thick rug to ease the sensual impact of flesh meeting flesh.
His pants began to feel distinctly tight.
Cursing silently, he thought about what it was like to prospect for minerals fifteen thousand feet up the side of the Andes. Cold. Very, very cold.
He didn’t offer to help her fit the big glass lid to the aquarium. He didn’t trust himself to be that close to her just yet. She fiddled with the heavy top until it lay just off center, allowing air to circulate.
“How did Nudge ever get to the fish?” he asked finally. “Did you forget to cover the aquarium?”
“Nope. See that hinge going down the middle?”
“Yes.”
“She flipped up the hinged part, hooked her claws under the rest, and dumped the lid onto the floor.”
His eyebrows climbed in silent admiration. “Strong cat. Smart, too.”
“Carnivorous most of all.”
He laughed. “Well, she won’t be able to get to Squeeze in the bookcase.”
“That’s the whole idea.”
Shelley replaced a few of the art books around the aquarium, wedging it snugly in place. The rest she stacked on the floor to one side. She stepped back to look at the aquarium, cocked her head, and began laughing softly.
The sound went through Cain like silver lightning.
“Can you believe it?” she asked. “A rosy boa sandwiched between Netsuke Through the Ages and Shades of Tiffany: A Study of Glass Art.”
“Having met you, I can believe anything.”
She started to ask what he meant, then thought better of it. She wasn’t sure she was ready for the answer.
And she was sure he would give it to her if she asked.
“We’d better get back down the hill,” she said, turning away. “JoLynn will be wondering what I’ve done with you.”
“Brian looked like he could answer any questions JoLynn might have, and then she could give him a few answers of her own.”
“I doubt it.”
Shelley’s voice was wry, but beneath it was the certainty that when it came to sex, Brian had asked all the questions and gotten all the answers long ago.
“Then Brian and JoLynn are well matched,” Cain said. “Like us.”
She looked away from the sensual certainty in his smoky eyes.
“Right,” she said, “the only two snake-handlers in L.A.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
“Cain—”
“Don’t look so wary,” he interrupted, smiling crookedly. “I’m not going to wrap myself around you and squeeze until you can’t say no. Remember?”
She remembered the gentleness of his kiss, the restraint that had held the male power of his body in check despite his obvious hunger.
And the hunger that was still obvious. Flushing, she looked away from his all-too-masculine body.
“A perfect match,” he continued smoothly. “I’m in need of gilding, and you’re the best gilder around.”
“You don’t look like a lily.”
“You noticed,” he said, pushing away from the bookcase.
Instantly she retreated.
He didn’t come any closer. He simply stood and waited for her to realize that she was safe with him.
She let out a long breath and relaxed.
“See?” he said. “Harmless.”
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She looked at Cain’s six-foot-three-inch height, the width of his shoulders, the flex and shift of muscle beneath his shirt, the blunt strength of his large hands, and the lean, powerful length of his legs.
“Harmless,” she repeated. Without meaning to, she smiled. “Cain, if you could only see yourself. Harmless.”
“I don’t look harmless?” he asked wistfully.
“No.”
“How about trustworthy?”
She started to say no, then realized it wasn’t true. Despite being alone in her bedroom with a large, not-quite-strange man, she wasn’t afraid. Her instincts told her that although Cain had a primitive male interest in her, he would pursue that interest in a civilized fashion.
“Yes,” she said huskily.
“Good. People who do business together should trust each other.”
She blinked. “Business?”
“Of course. You’re gilding my lily, remember?”
“Er, no.”
“I’ll tell you about it while I make some fresh lemonade for us. Those big yellow things I saw in that bowl upstairs were lemons, weren’t they?”
She stared at him. “Lemonade?”
“Unless they’re grapefruit.” He held out his hand. “Ready?”
She looked at his hand, remembering its strength and callused warmth. The scars on his knuckles showed as a lighter shade of brown beneath the gleaming sun-bleached hair.
“No,” she said, her voice low and distinct.
Gray eyes narrowed in the instant before Cain’s face relaxed. “Is it all men or just me?”
She watched him, her eyes wide. “I’m not—that is, I don’t—”
“You don’t do business with men?” he interrupted. “Funny, I could have sworn Brian was a man beneath all those designer labels.”
“Business, yes. The rest, no.”
He smiled slowly. “Whatever you say.”
She closed her eyes. She knew, she just knew, that he was remembering the kiss they had shared.
And it had been a sharing. She hadn’t been passive in his arms, waiting for an unwanted embrace to end.
That was what frightened her. She hadn’t felt anything for a man in years. Nor did she want to. She had fought a long time for the security she had. She didn’t need some hard stranger sweeping in and turning her home and her heart upside down.
The sooner Cain Remington was out of her life, the better.
She opened her eyes to tell him so, but found herself staring at his retreating back. He was climbing the stairs two at a time, his strides long and easy. His voice came floating back down to her.