from his grasp, combing her fingers through her hair in a lousy attempt to mask her abruptness. She needed to...she didn’t know what she needed to do. The blood pounding in her ears made it hard to think.
She needed space. That’s what. Turning on her heel, she headed upstairs, forcing herself to take one step at a time. She lasted until the second flight, when Stuart was out of sight, before doubling the pace.
Smooth going, Patience, she thought when she finally closed her bedroom door. Why don’t you break out in a cold sweat while you’re at it?
What on earth was wrong with her anyway? She’d dealt with literally dozens of unwanted advances over the years. Losers, pushy drunks, punks who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves And she freaks out because Stuart touched her hair? The guy didn’t even try anything.
Oh, but you wanted him to, didn’t you?
That’s why she’d bolted. In spite of everything that had gone on between them in the past twenty-four hours, she actually wanted Stuart Duchenko to kiss her.
Heaven help her, but she still did.
CHAPTER FOUR
T HE NEXT MORNING , Patience woke up with a far clearer head. Tossing and turning for half the night did that for a person.
When she thought things through, Patience wasn’t really surprised that she was attracted to Stuart. Along with being handsome, he was the polar opposite of every man who had ever crossed her path. Sadly, that difference was exactly why she had no business kissing or doing anything else with him.
Throwing back the covers, she stretched and headed for the shower. Back in her and Piper’s old apartment, a long hot shower was her way of scrubbing away life’s dirt. The close, fiberglass stall had been her oasis. This morning, she was using Ana’s Italian marble shower to rinse away last night’s fantastical thoughts. There was probably some kind of irony in that. All she knew was she had to go back to keeping her distance before she made a fool of herself or, worse, said something she shouldn’t.
The brownstone was empty when she finally came downstairs. A quick look toward his bedroom door—because she needed to prepare breakfast, not because she was thinking about him—showed Stuart was already awake. Up and out, apparently. A good thing, Patience told herself. She still wasn’t sure how to explain her behavior last night, and Stuart’s absence gave her the space she needed to come up with one.
Nigel was sitting by the kitchen door. The food littering his mat said he’d already had breakfast. There was coffee in the coffeepot, too.
“He sure is making it hard to stay unaffected, isn’t he, Nigel?” She gave the cat a scratch behind the ear. “But we’re going to do our best.”
Just then the front door opened, signaling the end of her solitude. With a soft meow, Nigel trotted toward the entryway. “Hey, Nigel,” she heard him greet. “Told you I’d be back.”
Patience rubbed her arms, which had suddenly developed goose bumps. Amazing the way the air seemed to shift every time he entered a building. Like the atmosphere needed to announce his arrival.
And thank goodness, too. She turned to the door at the same time he entered, and if she hadn’t been forewarned, her knees would have buckled underneath her completely.
He’d lied last night. No way the man walking into the kitchen was an unathletic nerd. His thin cotton tank might as well be nonexistent, the way it clung to his sweaty body. She could see every muscle, every inch of nonexistent fat. His arms alone...were lawyers allowed to have biceps that illegal? All those thoughts she had about his being commanding and superior? They doubled. And she’d thought he might kiss her last night? Talk about being a fool.
“Good morning.” He barely looked in her direction as he made his way to the refrigerator. “Going to be a scorcher. You can feel the heat in the air already.” Grabbing a bottle of water, he downed the contents in one long drink.
She needed space. That’s what. Turning on her heel, she headed upstairs, forcing herself to take one step at a time. She lasted until the second flight, when Stuart was out of sight, before doubling the pace.
Smooth going, Patience, she thought when she finally closed her bedroom door. Why don’t you break out in a cold sweat while you’re at it?
What on earth was wrong with her anyway? She’d dealt with literally dozens of unwanted advances over the years. Losers, pushy drunks, punks who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves And she freaks out because Stuart touched her hair? The guy didn’t even try anything.
Oh, but you wanted him to, didn’t you?
That’s why she’d bolted. In spite of everything that had gone on between them in the past twenty-four hours, she actually wanted Stuart Duchenko to kiss her.
Heaven help her, but she still did.
CHAPTER FOUR
T HE NEXT MORNING , Patience woke up with a far clearer head. Tossing and turning for half the night did that for a person.
When she thought things through, Patience wasn’t really surprised that she was attracted to Stuart. Along with being handsome, he was the polar opposite of every man who had ever crossed her path. Sadly, that difference was exactly why she had no business kissing or doing anything else with him.
Throwing back the covers, she stretched and headed for the shower. Back in her and Piper’s old apartment, a long hot shower was her way of scrubbing away life’s dirt. The close, fiberglass stall had been her oasis. This morning, she was using Ana’s Italian marble shower to rinse away last night’s fantastical thoughts. There was probably some kind of irony in that. All she knew was she had to go back to keeping her distance before she made a fool of herself or, worse, said something she shouldn’t.
The brownstone was empty when she finally came downstairs. A quick look toward his bedroom door—because she needed to prepare breakfast, not because she was thinking about him—showed Stuart was already awake. Up and out, apparently. A good thing, Patience told herself. She still wasn’t sure how to explain her behavior last night, and Stuart’s absence gave her the space she needed to come up with one.
Nigel was sitting by the kitchen door. The food littering his mat said he’d already had breakfast. There was coffee in the coffeepot, too.
“He sure is making it hard to stay unaffected, isn’t he, Nigel?” She gave the cat a scratch behind the ear. “But we’re going to do our best.”
Just then the front door opened, signaling the end of her solitude. With a soft meow, Nigel trotted toward the entryway. “Hey, Nigel,” she heard him greet. “Told you I’d be back.”
Patience rubbed her arms, which had suddenly developed goose bumps. Amazing the way the air seemed to shift every time he entered a building. Like the atmosphere needed to announce his arrival.
And thank goodness, too. She turned to the door at the same time he entered, and if she hadn’t been forewarned, her knees would have buckled underneath her completely.
He’d lied last night. No way the man walking into the kitchen was an unathletic nerd. His thin cotton tank might as well be nonexistent, the way it clung to his sweaty body. She could see every muscle, every inch of nonexistent fat. His arms alone...were lawyers allowed to have biceps that illegal? All those thoughts she had about his being commanding and superior? They doubled. And she’d thought he might kiss her last night? Talk about being a fool.
“Good morning.” He barely looked in her direction as he made his way to the refrigerator. “Going to be a scorcher. You can feel the heat in the air already.” Grabbing a bottle of water, he downed the contents in one long drink.
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