Cocktail Read online

  “I…uh…hairdryer, please?” She was usually more articulate. The man had the ability to destroy her control over her own mouth.

  He pointed to below the sink. “Should be there.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Coffee or tea?” he asked.

  “Tea,” she replied without thinking.

  “I’ll make some in the kitchen. Come out when you’re done.” He didn’t give her a chance to protest. The bathroom door closed, and he was gone.

  Felicity scrambled through her morning routine, and in fifteen minutes she was dressed in jeans and a comfortable navy-blue sweater with a gray anchor on it. Sitting back on Jared’s bed, she tugged on her worn pair of leather ankle boots. The bedroom was empty, so she headed to the kitchen. A few lone plastic cups lay on surfaces around the apartment, the only remnants of the wild party from the night before. Other than that, the place was surprisingly clean. Out of habit, she collected the few cups and walked into the kitchen to throw them away.

  “Over here, sailor.” Jared was at the other end of the kitchen, where the table was set for two.

  He looked more delicious than the breakfast he’d prepared. He stood there in his pajama pants and shirtless, making her mouth water. His feet were bare, and for some reason that made her smile. She tried not to look at his chest, but it was pretty hard not to admire its muscled perfection. It reminded her of the times she and Layla would spend a night eating pizza and drooling over the gorgeous hunks in Men’s Health magazine. Jared could have been posing for an article on six-pack abs.

  Even though he was the one half-dressed, it made her feel strangely naked. The half-smile that hovered around his lips told her he knew she was uncomfortable and a little flushed.

  Waffles, scrambled eggs, and bacon were already on the plates, and two cups of tea were waiting, steam coiling up in the air in milky tendrils. Her mind blanked. He was feeding her, too? What sort of man did that? Take care of a woman? Definitely none she knew. He fed her, clothed her…without threats, without demanding she accept what he offered. Something about that made her chest ache. She needed to regain control of her emotions.

  “Sailor?” she asked.

  “Your sweater.” His lips twitched as he sat down at the table.

  She glanced down at the anchor. “Oh, right.” What was with him and the nicknames? Kid, princess, sailor…

  She dropped into the seat across from him and reached for her cup of tea. The porcelain cup burned her fingers—not quite to the point of pain, but enough to make the rest of her warm. She loved that about tea, the way even holding it in her hands could erase a bone-deep chill.

  Jared watched her. The weight of his gaze was an almost tangible touch. Felicity shifted in her chair as she wriggled under his scrutiny.

  “What paper do you have this morning?” he asked after a moment of painfully awkward silence.

  “It’s an analysis of the changing artistic painting styles in Colonial America during the Revolutionary War.” She sipped her tea. Irish Breakfast. Her favorite.

  Jared dug into his waffle, chewing thoughtfully. “You pick that by choice or force?”

  She didn’t understand his question. “I picked it. I’m an art history major.”

  “Ah…that explains the costume. You, princess, are a nerd.” His judgmental smirk made her want to punch him, yet she still also found it infuriatingly attractive.

  A prickle of indignation buried beneath her skin. Nerd? Nerd!

  “I am not. Appreciating history isn’t bad,” she countered.

  With a scrape of a fork over the plate he continued to eat, his whiskey brown eyes fixed on her every few seconds.

  “Never said it was bad.”

  Okay. Felicity wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she decided to eat in silence. After a few bites—delicious ones—she realized she had relaxed a little more around him. She’d slept with Jared. Well, not slept with him, but being around him and not making a fool of herself by being too awkward was impressive when she’d rarely spent time alone with any guys back home. Instead, her heart beat a little quicker, her mouth was desert-dry, and her hands trembled with excitement.

  “So…Layla said you’re an attorney?” She decided to try small talk again. Her plate was wiped clean and so was his. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, fingers laced as he studied her.

  “Yeah. I focus on real estate transactions. I’m an associate attorney at Pimms & Associates LLP.”

  The name didn’t sound familiar, not that it should have. She and Jared moved in very different circles. She was a graduate student with no connections to any big companies in the city, especially not law firms. And she wasn’t from Omaha like Jared. She was just a small-town girl, but he didn’t make her feel that way.

  For the last couple of months of being around Tanner, she’d learned the Redmonds were wealthy, but they had earned it through hard work. More than once Layla had confessed it was one of the things she loved about Tanner. He wasn’t a spoiled playboy. He played hard, sure, but he worked hard, too. He was an engineering major. Those students had an intense curriculum. Felicity and Layla joked that one look at Tanner’s textbooks gave them headaches.

  “Want another waffle?” Jared’s voice cut through her thoughts. He was standing right beside her. When had he moved?

  “No thanks.” She patted her stomach. “Quite full.”

  “Okay. Just make sure you eat enough to fuel your brain for your research paper.” He ruffled a hand over her hair, messing up the artful windblown look she’d spent several minutes that morning perfecting.

  “Hey!” she said, swatting his hand away. When he caught her hand and tugged her body against his, she closed her eyes, praying for a kiss.

  Gentle fingers cupped her chin and lifted her face. “Look at me, princess.”

  She pried one eye open, her heart beating wildly. To her surprise, Jared was studying her, but only kindness and curiosity shone in his warm brown eyes. Like rich maple syrup… She blinked.

  “There you are,” he murmured more to himself than to her. “Welcome back.” He grinned and patted her cheek.

  She couldn’t escape the crushing disappointment. Why hadn’t he kissed her? Was there something wrong with her?

  The gesture was patronizing, yet Felicity couldn’t summon any anger. No one had ever been playful with her or treated her like a kid, or maybe like a sister. But the look in his eyes—there was something dark and wild there, something that did funny things to her insides. Her lips pursed in a tight line.

  “Don’t frown, princess.” He laughed, his back still to her.

  She shot him a scathing look, hot enough to melt steel.

  He was already walking back to the sink, whistling a tune under his breath.

  “Better get going if you’re going to make it to your class.” He joined her back at the table and held out a wad of cash. “Cab money.” He set the money in her hand and then walked back to the sink, apparently oblivious to her standing there gaping. The water ran as he scrubbed pots. A lawyer who did his own dishes? What next?

  “I have money.” She attempted to put the money on the counter next to him, but he caught her wrist. The warmth of his hand, slightly slick with dish soap, made her heart skip a beat. She met his gaze, steel determination forcing her not to mentally cower.

  “Consider it an apology for whatever I may have said or done last night and for disrupting your sleep. I really wasn’t supposed to come back last night, but we closed our sale on time without any issues, so I was able to come back early.”

  Apology? Was he serious? He’d saved her from a drunken stormtrooper and a Playboy Bunny. She’d felt completely safe with him, like she had her very own knight in shining armor guarding her while she slept. That wasn’t the sort of thing a girl like her would forget. She’d never been the damsel-in-distress type, but she had to admit she liked knowing someone had her back, that she wasn’t alone. But it wasn’t meant to be. She was hoping h
er boss at her art gallery was going to give her a personal recommendation for a position at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, or LACMA as it was called. If she got that job, she’d be leaving Chicago at the end of the school year when she graduated. That meant no dating, no love—not here, not with him.

  “Look, this is really—” She pulled out of his grasp, unnerved by how unafraid of his touch she was.

  “Let a man be chivalrous once in a while. We like it. Makes us feel needed.” He dried his hands off and tucked the money in the front of her jeans.

  Heat exploded through her in an almost violent rush as he invaded her space yet again. Why was she letting him affect her like that?

  “No argument?” he teased.

  She shook her head, her mind a little blank as she got lost in the splinters of gold and the flecks of green in his eyes. She hadn’t seen that before. They weren’t hazel, but the brown had a myriad of subtle colors in it. His eyes made her think of summer sun and lazy afternoons, the few in her life she’d been able to enjoy. She licked her lips, trying to erase the cotton-dry feeling in her mouth.

  “Go get your stuff and get out of here. I don’t want you to miss out on the colonial artwork.” He winked.

  Felicity finally found control of her body, and she hastily left the kitchen to pack her things. She left her change of clothes in her gym bag in Jared’s room, even though she wanted to leave it with Layla. There was no way she was interrupting Layla and Tanner in bed. Right now she had to focus on her term paper. She couldn’t afford to jeopardize her scholarship. Not even to linger one more minute in the presence of a handsome man who was just a little too sexy and a little too dangerous. Not scary dangerous, but the sort of dangerous that, if she wasn’t careful, she might fall hopelessly in love with him. She’d had her heart broken already, and trust wasn’t easy for her. The last thing she needed was Jared destroying her carefully-constructed fortress.

  Yeah, he was dangerous all right.

  Chapter 3

  Felicity haunted his thoughts. A flicker of light against the windows reminded him of her flashing gray eyes. God, she was something else. Jared grinned. It had been a long time since he’d had so much fun teasing a girl. The look on her face when he’d tucked the cab money back in her pocket—she’d been all flushed and wide-eyed. Damn. He’d gotten hard as a rock imagining how else he could have made her all pink and hot. But she was young. A graduate student.

  So why did he keep reliving last night like some teenager in a fantasy? There was more to it than a warm body in bed beside him. It was the way she’d fallen asleep almost instantly, showing complete trust. Sharing a bed for the night with another person was more intimate than sex. You let your guard down, had no ready defenses. Most people refused to let themselves become that vulnerable. He was one of them.

  But last night, he could have stayed next to her forever. The sweet smell of her, the rhythm of her light breathing, and the way she’d curled up against him until just before dawn. Jared doubted she remembered that part of the night. He’d have to remind her later, just to see a blush creep across her cheeks.

  There couldn’t be a later, though.

  Suddenly gripped by a bad mood, he stalked down the hall to his bedroom. Even though he kept his windows fairly tinted against the sun, the bold rays lit up the room. A streak of gold and burgundy caught his eye.

  A wolfish grin tugged his lips back up.

  The princess had left her gown.

  Walking over to his bed, he reached out and touched the silk, which gleamed in the light. A hint of heat from the sun warmed his fingers as he picked up the gown. His eyes closed as he remembered the way she’d offered her back to him, so shy and yet completely trusting him. His hands tangling in the laces as he sought to undo them. The whisper of silk against skin.

  Arousal slammed into him. His eyes flew open, and he forced himself to let go of the gown. Since when had he become so sentimental?

  “Morning, Jared,” Layla greeted him from his doorway, dressed in Tanner’s shirt and boxers. Her long dark hair was sexy and rumpled. No doubt she and Tanner had partied well into the night.

  “Layla,” he answered and shifted slightly to block the view of Felicity’s gown on his bed.

  Her eyes tracked the movement like a cat sensing the darting shadow of a mouse.

  “What’s that?” She was instantly alert as she padded across his room.

  “Nothing,” he growled, taking a step toward her. Layla had no sense of boundaries, the result of too many siblings growing up, he supposed.

  “Oh yeah? Sure doesn’t look like nothing.” She winkled her nose as she giggled. Then without warning, she dove around him and snatched up the gown. “This is Felicity’s costume. Why do you have it?”

  Jared licked his lips. It never ceased to amaze him how she could intimidate him, despite her small size. He stood nearly a foot taller than her, but when she got that look in her eyes, it made even him want to retreat.

  “She left it here when she took off for her class.” He attempted to wrestle the dress back from Layla’s hands, but the young woman kept a possessive grip on the fabric, and he didn’t want to tear it.

  “Uh-huh.” She didn’t sound all that convinced. “I’ll just take this, if you don’t mind. It’s not like you need it.” With a saucy little wink she started for the door, then stopped to look over her shoulder. “Oh, Jared, how was last night, by the way?” She paused in the doorway, her gaze on him assessing.

  “Fine.” That was all she was going to get.

  He waited until Layla had disappeared before he shut the door and headed for the shower. Technically, he didn’t have to work today. The sale for their client, the buyer, had gone through yesterday. After this sale, things at the office would settle down. At least for a few days.

  Jared cranked the shower nozzle on and stripped out of his pajama bottoms. When he stepped inside, a sweet vanilla scent hit him hard. Felicity. Her body wash? Or maybe her shampoo? He reached for his own shampoo, a minty-scented bottle. Disappointment prickled inside him at the way the spearmint covered the vanilla. One more trace of last night’s encounter was gone. With a frustrated growl, he scrubbed his scalp, lathering the shampoo into a thick froth before he rinsed.

  A whole day. He had a whole day to burn and do whatever he wanted. Part of him was tempted to crash on his bed and sleep the rest of the day away. But that would only screw up his sleep schedule. He got so little as it was. It would have been worth it if he could have slept in with Felicity in his arms, although if she was there, he’d likely be tempted to do other things than sleep.

  How is Felicity doing on her research? It had been six years since he’d been in college. Seemed more like a hundred. Law school and college were nothing alike. Undergrad had been fun. He’d worked hard and played hard. He didn’t know what getting a master’s degree was like compared to law school, though. Law school—that was the equivalent of joining the army and, rather than going to boot camp for training, just being dropped into the middle of a war zone with a water gun. He had barely gotten out of that experience alive. If it hadn’t been for Shana—and more importantly, her father—he might never have landed his current associate position.

  He scowled. These were never thoughts he liked to linger on, the possibility that he’d only been hired because he’d dated a partner’s daughter. Yeah, really bruising to his ego.

  Jared was tempted to linger in the shower, relishing the way the water soothed his tense muscles. But he couldn’t avoid the inevitable. With a heavy sigh, he shut the water off and exited the shower. He reached for a fresh towel and saw the one that Felicity had used dangling over one peg. It was impossible to forget the look on her face when he’d caught her searching his bathroom. The puffy white towel had hugged her full figure, making her look soft and cuddly. He’d been torn between the desire to hug her to him, stripping the towel away to lick the crystalline droplets from her skin, or to just drag her to bed to make love the rest of the da
y.

  His cock twitched in a silent salute at the idea. Damn. He needed to get his mind off the little princess. Princess. She’d left her gown. Surely she’d want it back, right? The pearl-encrusted bodice and silk fabric looked pricey.

  It would be rude of him not to return the dress. He had no other plans today. Might be fun to tease her again. Striding over to the chest, he grabbed jeans and a black T-shirt. No suit today, thank God. As much as he loved dressing well, sometimes a man just needed jeans. Once he was dressed, he went in search of Layla and the costume.

  His brother’s girlfriend was in the kitchen, perched on the counter, bare legs swinging as she texted someone and sipped coffee from one of the black mugs he and Tanner had in their cupboards.

  “Where’s Felicity’s costume?”

  She didn’t pause in her texting. “My room. Why?”

  “I’m not working today, and I’d like to return it to her.”

  This made Layla’s fingers freeze above her phone’s screen. Her dark eyes drew a slow line up from her phone to his face. A glint of mischief peeked out from beneath her lashes.

  “Mmmkay. Do you need her phone number and address? I wouldn’t call for at least an hour. She has to finish the paper and turn it in to the professor around eleven a.m.”

  “Good point.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and waited for Layla to give him Felicity’s info. When she was done, he pocketed the phone and returned to his room. He unloaded his briefcase on his desk and happily turned his mind off work, an event that rarely happened.

  “You should take her bag, too.” Layla was in his doorway again, pointing to the blue gym bag half-hidden behind his door. He’d missed that somehow. Layla hadn’t.

  “Okay. Thanks.” He retrieved the bag and set it on his bed.

  “So what happened last night?” Layla asked, her tone neutral as she walked over to his bed and plopped down on it like she owned the place.

  “Kid, it’s none of your business.”