the idea of ground rules. I don't think either one of us should just dictate what the other should do. So why not play for the bedroom rights? If you win, the bedroom's yours. If I win, it's mine. Simple.”
One elegantly arched eyebrow lifted and Alex felt a tightening in his groin.
“Simple, huh?”
She was thinking about it, weighing the odds. He noticed she thought about things a lot, probably over-thought them. That either made her very careful or paranoid, both bringing him back to the conclusion that something had happened in her past to make her the way she was now. A natural fixer of all things wrong, as his siblings often accused him of being, Alex wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know more about Monica Lakefield, about why she'd built this enormous shield around herself and practically dared anyone to attempt to knock it down.
“Come on, Monica. You're not afraid of playing one game with me, are you?”
“I'm not afraid of anything” was her quick retort.
Just the words he'd expected to hear from her. “Great. Then kick off your boots and let's get started.”
“I can't play dressed like this.”
He looked at her pristine slacks and sweater and had to agree. “You go change and I'll get the game set up.”
After a brief hesitation she said a quick, “Fine,” and was out of the room before he could say another word.
Alex cleared the floor in the middle of the living-room area and spread out the giant plastic sheet filled with colored circles that would be their playing board. Then he looked down at his own jeans and shirt and thought he should probably change, too. As he remembered, Twister was a game of flexibility, which he wouldn't have much of in the constricting denim he was currently wearing. One of his bags was still in the bathroom so he grabbed a pair of gym shorts and slipped them on. He returned to the living room and his throat went dry when he saw her holding the cardboard dial that would instruct them throughout the game. It looked as if she'd put on gym clothes, as well—black spandex pants and a hot-pink top that just barely covered her midriff.
“What? I didn't pack any play clothes. This was a business trip, remember?” she asked, looking plenty guilty about her attire.
Guilt wasn't what Alex was feeling. Hot described it best.
“No complaints from me. But if you were planning to wear that to a business dinner I'd say you would be guaranteed to have all the pieces you wanted to show at the Black History Exhibit.”
“Ha-ha,” she scoffed. “Let's get this over with.” She flicked the arrow on the dial. “Right foot yellow.”
“Guess that look means I'm first,” he said with a chuckle. She was beyond bossy. It was kind of attractive so he did as she said and put his right foot on a yellow circle.
“Right foot blue,” she said.
“That's here next to me,” Alex said, knowing she'd never stand that close to him. The kiss had rattled her, too, he knew from the way she'd remained quiet when it had concluded. Not that he'd stuck around to hear her comments, but if she had anything to say on the subject she certainly would have said it as soon as he'd come back into the room. Instead she had remained quiet about the situation, probably hoping her silence would make it go away.
It didn't. He felt the sexual pull to her stronger now than he had in the kitchen. The kiss had made the attraction to her all the more potent. He only hoped he'd have the good sense to keep his hands off her. At least for now.
She surprised him by placing her foot right next to his on the blue circle. He looked down, then up at her face.
“I don't like to be cold,” she said, turning her attention back to the dial.
He wasn't going to say anything about her fuzzy black-and-white-striped socks. If nothing else they did look warm and she had packed to come to a ski resort. “I didn't say a word,” he added with a smile.
For whatever reason she seemed awfully self-conscious about what she was wearing. In fact, he thought for a second, she seemed a little off balance since she'd changed out of her sleek Ice Queen outfit. Almost as if she didn't know how to act without the whole Monica Lakefield Businesswoman facade.
“Left foot green,” she announced. Alex maneuvered himself until his left foot was on the green circle while his right was still on the yellow.
“Right hand blue,” she said, then looked down at the mat.
“I'll do the spinning,” he said, taking the dial from her hand. Her last bit of control.
She frowned at the loss then leaned forward and placed the palm of her hand in the center of a blue circle.
This put her in an interesting position as she'd turned her back to him so that now her bottom was strategically centered in his line of sight … and a nice bottom it was, he readily admitted.
After his next spin put him closer to her left ankle, which had found its home on a red circle, Alex's resolve against touching Monica again was melting. From the way she moved to one circle after another he could tell she was flexible, her long body limber and graceful. She probably worked out obsessively. That would be the only way she ever did things, he figured. Always to be the best. He wondered how long it would take her to figure out she'd most likely hit that mark years ago.
Without another word he wrapped his fingers around her ankle then moved his hand gently upward, stopping at her calf when she sucked in a breath and angled her head to stare at him. She didn't say a word so he let his fingers continue to walk up her leg, gliding along the satiny pattern of her pants before stopping at her inner thigh. Her gaze had gone all glossy then, her lips parted slightly. His own breathing grew faster as his fingers rested right there at the muscle of her thigh. Through the pants he swore he could feel her pulse thumping wildly at his touch. With a move so smooth and gentle it almost felt as if he'd practiced it, Alex repositioned both of them so that she was sprawled beneath him on the mat. Her heart was pounding, he felt it right up against his own as he looked down into her eyes. There was no fear there, not that he'd expected any. More like a question—a why and not a when—and he almost faltered.
No way was she wondering why he was making a move on her. She was an intelligent and confident woman—she knew damned well how sexy she was and that he'd been insanely attracted to her ever since the first day they met. She had to know.
Just like she had to feel his arousal throbbing fiercely for her now. Her lips parted farther and he thought she was going to say something, a protest maybe, or some smart retort that would shatter this mood. So instead of waiting for the cold water to be splashed on him, Alex plunged, taking her mouth in a kiss guaranteed to warm even the Ice Queen all the way to her toes.
Chapter 5
It was officially a lost cause. He wanted this woman, badly. And she, well, she wasn't putting up much of a fight. In fact, her arms had twined around his neck and her thighs trapped his between them as he deepened the kiss. He could take her right here, in front of the dwindling fire with the snowstorm raging outside. But he wouldn't.
This would not be a quick romp or a sudden release of the day's frustrations. When he took Monica Lakefield he wanted to take his time, to explore every nuance of this intriguing woman. It was going to take all the strength he could muster, but he wasn't having it any other way.
So Alex lifted his head slowly, delaying the parting of their lips for as long as possible. Breathing erratically, they stayed in that exact position, both with eyes closed for seconds that seemed to go on forever.
“I won,” she said finally, her warm breath whispering over his face.
He wondered if she'd deal with this like she'd dealt with the last kiss—speak no evil, etc. Not sure how that thought made him feel, Alex opted for the cool comeback. “That's why I rewarded you,” he said, opening his eyes to stare down at her.