Flames of Love Page 11

  As much as Siena hated feeling like there was anything she couldn’t do, she was enjoying having Cash take care of her, and for just a second, she thought she understood why some of the most capable women she knew would act less so around the men they dated. In the next breath she remembered how much it turned her stomach when they did that, and the understanding was shot to hell.

  She felt Cash’s grip loosen and she sucked in a breath.

  “What are you doing? Don’t let go.” Panic surged through her, and she grabbed the sleeve of his parka with both hands.

  “Relax.” His commanding voice was back. He slid his hands around to her front as he skated adeptly around her, then gripped her hips once again—from the front this time—and skated backward.

  “Oh my God, you scared the daylights out of me. I’m fine if you’re holding me, but the minute you let go, I’m going to fall, and it’s not gonna be pretty.” Or feel good!

  “Don’t give me that garbage. Focus on me, not your feet.”

  No hardship there. The earnest look in his eyes reminded her of the night they’d met, which brought to her mind the moment he’d leaned over her in the truck. She felt her knees go weak, and without a second’s hesitation, his hands gripped her tighter.

  “I’ve got you. Tell me about your brothers. How many do you have?”

  “Five. You met Jack at the bar—the really tall, protective one. The other guys at the table were Sage and Dex. Sage is an artist, and he’s wicked athletic, and Dex is the one who walked me out. We’re twins. And then there are my other brothers, Kurt—he’s a writer, but he almost never meets us for drinks—and Rush. He’s a professional skier.” Her feet were sliding along, one leg after the other, and her ankles were no longer keeling to the side.

  “I never put two and two together. Rush Remington? The Olympic skier?”

  “The one and only.”

  His eyes filled with mischief. “So who’s the evil twin?”

  She concentrated on the way his hips moved beneath her hands. Strong and sure. “Um…depends who you ask.”

  He raised his brows. “Maybe I’ll have to come to that answer on my own after I know you better.”

  She studied his face, the way his glances behind him were swift and careful. When he spoke, he focused on her eyes, but when another skater neared, his eyes trailed them and his grip on her became firmer, more protective. When her ankles tilted, he reflexively held her up. How could he be so focused on her while moving backward on skates?

  “So were you a spoiled princess growing up? Because I can’t even imagine you as that.”

  “Ha! My family is not like that. Hardly. I mean, my brothers have always been good to me, but my dad is tough. Military tough, and being a girl didn’t carry any weight. Tell me about your family.”

  “I will. My family’s as big as yours, which is weird. But I want to know more about you. How did you end up modeling?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I hate to admit this because it comes out all wrong.”

  Cash scratched his cheek, a smile stretching slowly across his handsome face. She loved how a little crease formed just to the left of his lips when he smiled, and—Holy shit! He’s scratching his cheek. She looked down and his other hand hovered just to the side of her hips. She was skating on her own.

  She grabbed his parka.

  “Look at you. A model who can skate. Now I’ve seen everything,” Cash teased.

  “Oh my God. Hold me. Put your hand back. I’m going to fall.”

  “No, you’re not.” Another command.

  “Cash.”

  “I’m here. You dip, I catch. It’s what I do.”

  Is there anything you don’t do? She sucked in a breath and concentrated on moving her feet. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God!

  “Siena, focus on me. Tell me about modeling.”

  “I’ll fall.”

  “You’re holding my arms so tightly that if I lifted them, you’d come with them. You’re not going to fall. Modeling. You. The story.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and she nodded, drawing in a long breath again and blowing it out slowly.

  “I was eight. In a mall with my mom.” She tried to calm her racing heart. She was skating. Skating! Even though it never came up in her daily life, she’d always wished she could skate. Her mother had tried to show her how. Even Dex had when they were kids, and she couldn’t do it. She fell on her ass a hundred times an hour and finally had just given up. And now…

  “Okay. The mall. A guy approached my mom about taking pictures of me. He said he was a photographer, and he gave her a business card. She didn’t pay him much attention, but after that, it was all I could think about. I went home and looked at magazines all afternoon, searching the models’ faces, memorizing the poses.”

  His eyes traveled from hers, to her mouth, then back up again, and he smiled.

  “I convinced her to take me for the pictures, and from that moment on, I was hooked.”

  He nodded. “That explains it.” His hand slid around her waist again, and he skated beside her.

  “Explains what?”

  “Nothing. Just that how much you love your job shows in your pictures.”

  She reached for him. “Wait. I’m going to fall.”

  He laughed and pressed his arm to her back. “I’ve got you. I just wasn’t holding tight. You’ve got this. You need me like you need makeup.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you don’t need anything or anyone to help you be more than you are.”

  She didn’t know what to make of that. She didn’t need makeup? She didn’t need a man? Was she too bullheaded? Too conceited? Why was he looking at her like that? She couldn’t read the sort of smile on his lips, and when she tried to figure out his stare, he drew it away.

  “Christ.”

  “What did I do now?”

  He guided her over to the railing and placed her hands firmly on it. “Stay here.”

  “Cash!”

  He skated off at racing speed, passing everyone, bent forward like a practiced skater, and he went around the rink once, twice, three times, before skidding in beside her, red-faced and breathing hard. She watched his eyes. He had to be showing off. Siena glanced around the rink, searching for a pretty girl, someone he was showing off for. She scrutinized him, bent over now at the waist, panting, his eyes locked on the ice.

  “Sorry.” He looked up at her and shook his head. “You get this look, and…”

  A look? I had a look? She had many looks when she modeled, but with Cash, she hadn’t needed to fake a single one.

  He pulled himself up to his full height, and her stomach fluttered—so broad, so masculine.

  “I just needed to go fast.”

  “What look?”

  He shook his head. “It’s a…thing you do. Your eyes get all serious, like your mind is going a hundred miles an hour, and then your lower lip sticks out a little in this crazy seductive pout, and…” He ran his hand through his hair and looked away again. “Jesus. I can’t do this.”

  She sighed, frustrated at herself for opening up. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have told you about the mall. I know I sound shallow when I say it.”

  He looked down at her, his nostrils flaring. He inched closer, their thighs brushing. Oh God. She wanted to reach up and touch his strong, clenching jaw, feel the muscles pulsating. She wanted to place her lips on his, to have him wrap her in his arms, and she’d ruined everything. Sometimes she hated who she was—a talker, too stubborn, too pretty—as much as she loved it.

  In the next breath, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her deeply, stroking the worry right out of her mind and stealing her breath. One strong arm caught her as her knees weakened, pulling her against him as he deepened the kiss. Safe in his arms, she let go of the railing and ran her hand along his jaw. Oh God. Oh God, you feel so good. When he drew back, he took her remaining breath with him, leaving her panting for more.

  He released the press
ure on her lower back, and as cool air filled the space between their bodies, she stifled a moan. His intense gaze didn’t falter; his brows drew together.

  “I’m sorry,” he panted. “That look gets me every time.”

  “Then I’ll have to do it more often.” Without thinking, as skaters sped past and people looked on, she pulled him into a sweet, soft kiss, wishing she knew what look he meant.

  CASH HAD NEVER before wanted to remember a moment so badly in all his life, but the look in Siena’s eyes the second before she drew him in for another kiss sent chills right through him. And the way she kissed him, soft and tenderly, left him craving more. Now, as they shuffled through the crowds along Times Square, everything felt different. He felt different. Cash wasn’t easily intimidated, but as he fought the urge to drape his arm around her neck, he realized that he was intimidated. She was Siena Remington, and to everyone else in the world, that meant something completely different than it meant to him. To others, she was a gorgeous body, a pretty face. A top model. Of course she was all those things, but when he looked into her eyes, he saw things that he didn’t understand—and desperately wanted to. Vulnerability. Pent-up frustration. Intelligence. Hell, the list went on and on.

  A man pushed past, wrenching Siena sideways. She sucked in a breath. “Ow!”

  Cash locked eyes on the guy’s back as he hurried away. The hell with being intimidated. She was who she was, but he would never hesitate if he liked any other woman the way he liked her. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine. People are always in such a rush near the holidays.” She cuddled closer to him and he tightened his grasp.

  That was where she should be, close enough that no one could hurt her. Safe. Protected.

  “Hungry?”

  She shrugged. “A little.”

  “What’s your pleasure? A woman cannot live on screaming orgasms alone.” He loved teasing her, seeing her strength rise in her shoulders and settle in her eyes as she contemplated a feisty retort.

  She slowed her pace and looked up at him from the corner of her eyes. “I’m sick of having them alone.” She trapped her lower lip in her teeth, her cheeks flushed.

  Holy hell. He was struck dumb. It was all he could do to keep his legs moving. He was breathing too hard, his muscles tense. She pressed her body closer to him, giving rise beneath his zipper. How the hell was he supposed to navigate these flames? His body wanted to race back to her place and make love to her all night, his heart told him to pace himself, and his mind had no idea which way to go.

  Food. He’d concentrate on food. He had no idea what she’d eat. Models had to be careful; that much he knew.

  He cleared his throat. “Want to…um…salad? Does that work?”

  She smiled up at him and narrowed her eyes. “Let’s be bad.”

  Christ. She can’t mean…

  She took his hand and dragged him across the street and into a small pizzeria. At the counter, she moved in front of him and settled his hand on her waist; then she reached back, brought his other hand around her waist, and relaxed against his chest.

  Life doesn’t get any better than this. Without thinking, he kissed the top of her head. The scent of coconut shampoo filled his senses. In that one small positioning of him against her, she’d stolen any lingering intimidation, and as her head lolled back against him, fitting perfectly between his pectoral muscles, he let out a sigh he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Siena covered his hands with hers and he rotated his wrists, taking her fingers in his. At that moment, nothing else existed. His hunger was forgotten; his heart was full.

  “Next.” The large, dark-haired man behind the counter drew his attention.

  Siena looked up at him. God, she was beautiful. “Veggie,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Two slices of veggie pizza, please.”

  The man skillfully boxed two pieces faster than Cash could contemplate taking his hands from around Siena and digging out his wallet. Which he did reluctantly. He grabbed the box from the counter, and Siena wrapped her arm in his as they walked outside. He’d been so wrapped up in her that he’d almost forgotten the tickets he’d purchased for the other part of their date. He looked at his watch.

  “Okay, don’t hate me, but we have to hurry.”

  “Where?”

  He held tight to her hand and walked fast, feeling Siena practically running to keep up. “I’m an idiot. I bought tickets to a carriage ride tour and almost forgot. We have to be at the center of Times Square in seven minutes.” He glanced at her just long enough to see her eyes widen.

  “You did?”

  “Yeah, dumb, I know. I thought it would be romantic and maybe something you didn’t do all the time.”

  They ran by festively decorated storefronts and reached the carriage just as it arrived at Times Square. Cash helped her into a seat and sat beside her, both of them breathing hard.

  “Wow, sorry. It was supposed to be one of those magical moments you see in movies.” He shook his head. I’m such a fool.

  She stared at him without saying a word.

  “Stop looking at me like that.” He looked straight ahead, knowing he’d just messed up their evening. She’d been so close to him. He’d felt it. He’d seen how much she liked him in her eyes, and now…now she’d think he was a total idiot. Who took carriage rides through the city when they lived there year-round? Why did he even think it might be romantic?

  The carriage moved slowly along the road, and Cash settled back into the seat for the longest ride of his life.

  “You’re a hopeless romantic.”

  He shifted his eyes to hers, his head still facing forward. “Cut it out.”

  “No,” she said sharply. She placed her hands on his thighs and leaned closer. So close he could see tiny flecks of white in the blue of her eyes.

  “You are.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Look at you. Mr. Macho Fireman planned a romantic carriage ride.” She lifted his arm and snuggled in beneath it. “I like it.”

  “You’re making fun of me, right?”

  “Nope.” She reached for the pizza box. “But now I’m hungry.” She took off the gloves he’d bought her and set them in his lap.

  He liked her ease of using him as a table, as strange as that seemed. It made him warm all over. The slice of pizza looked too big for her, and as she opened her mouth to take a bite, her eyes widened. He could stare at her all day and never get sick of her expressions.

  After they were done eating, he set the box beside him and wiped a spot of pizza sauce from her cheek with his thumb.

  “I forgot to tell you, I’m a pig when I eat. It’s a really bad thing. My brothers tease me about it.”

  “A piglet maybe, but it’s not a bad thing. It was a spot of sauce.” And your cheek was so soft that I want to touch it again.

  She shook her head. “You should see me with ice cream. It always ends up on my shirt.”

  “There’s one way to fix that.”

  “A bib?” she teased.

  He nuzzled his cheek to hers and whispered, “Don’t wear a shirt when you eat it.” He drew back slowly, his lips grazing her cheek, testing, weighing her reactions, looking for signs of whether they were in sync. She touched his cheek again, the way she had at the rink, and the intimate touch answered him. Oh yeah, they were in sync. Her lips parted as she turned to him, and he settled his mouth over hers for another deep, sensuous kiss. She slid her hand beneath his jacket and urged him closer, sending a surge of desire through him. There was no misconstruing the heat between them, and he had no interest in controlling the flames anymore.

  Half an hour later, they were climbing out of a cab in front of his apartment building. Why he took her there instead of her apartment, he had no idea. His apartment was small, ridiculously so, but he wanted her to see the real him. And with Chief Weber’s vote of confidence, he hoped the other part of the real him would one day return.

 
He took her hand and led her upstairs to the second floor, seeing the interior of the building through new eyes. He’d never noticed the chipping plaster or the worn carpet. He cringed as he unlocked the old door.

  “It’s not what you’re used to, but…” He shrugged as the door swung open. “After you.” He watched her scan the small living room, just large enough for a love seat, coffee table, and a bookshelf. The exterior wall was raw brick, with a window overlooking the street. She walked to the window and looked out, running her fingers along the windowsill; then she turned back to him and tilted her head to the side, as if she were putting together the image of him and the apartment in her mind. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up on a hook beside the door.

  “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.” He reached for her hand, and in a few short steps, she was beside him again. He unzipped her coat and drew it down her shoulders. The way she was looking up at him made him feel as if he were taking off something much more intimate. He lifted her hands and gently removed her gloves, then put them in the pocket of her coat and hung it next to his. He liked seeing it there. Cash had had women in his apartment before, but never anyone he wished would stay. He envisioned Siena in every room of the small apartment: looking up from a seat on the couch as he came from the kitchen to the living room, waking up beside him in his king-sized bed, cooking dinner at his side, with no elbow room, in the kitchen. He pushed the silly thoughts aside, and with her hand in his, brought her into the kitchen.

  “This is so cozy,” she said sweetly.

  “That’s code for small, and yeah, it is, but I like it.” He’d bought the apartment a few years earlier, and he and Tommy had refinished the hardwood floors, painted, replaced the cabinets, and remodeled the bathroom. It was far from high-end, but as Siena ran a hand over the dark marble counters, he filled with pride.

  “Cozy is homey to me. Small is nice. But I’ve seen small apartments that feel cramped and, I don’t know…not homey. This is lovely.”

  He nodded, unsure how to react to his apartment being called lovely. He pointed to an alcove between the kitchen and the living room with two doors. “Bathroom. Bedroom.”