Cat's Lair
Page 15

 Christine Feehan

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Her stomach did a roller coaster loop just as a million birds took wing, fluttering against her insides when his fingers moved through her hair. He had done it almost absently and he didn’t call attention to doing it, but it felt sexy and sweet at the same time.
“And, if you did succeed in dragging me out, I wouldn’t be able to install your security system.” He flashed a grin at her.
He was dangerous to all women, but apparently to her in particular. Just looking at him turned her insides to mush. He melted her without trying, just by giving her a quick smile. Not even a high-wattage, just-for-her smile, just a casual one that showed his white teeth. And then there was his cocky, arrogant grin. She could weave tons of fantasy and perv around him for a good solid week with just one of his grins.
“Fine, I won’t try to take you down before you finish the security system.”
“I’m getting the tools out of my truck, so I’ll be leaving the door open for a minute or two. Wouldn’t want to have to lean on that buzzer.”
“I’m already tempted to use that thing for target practice,” she admitted, but the coffee was doing its job, putting her in a better mood. Still, she needed clothes. Her tank wasn’t covering much and as soon as he was outside, she was rushing to change.
She dragged old faded jeans from the drawers in her bedroom, underwear and a soft T-shirt and raced for the bathroom. She managed to close and lock the door before she heard the heavy front door swing shut. She did a quick once-over, teeth, hair, face, and dragged on her clothes. She rarely wore shoes inside. Mostly she just wore her sweats so she could work out whenever she felt like it.
Catarina loved her days off. She could be herself. She didn’t have to be on her guard every moment. She didn’t need to expend energy keeping her eyes on the floor and hiding behind baggy clothes and dark sunglasses. She read – a lot – listened to her music and spent hours punching and kicking the bag. She stretched and ate ice cream. She stretched more and drank coffee. She was free, and she enjoyed freedom.
“Need some help, Cat,” Ridley said as she emerged.
He was up on a ladder. A really tall ladder. He had no problems invading Malcom’s corner and confiscating anything he needed. Or maybe he’d brought the monstrosity. Either way, he was on nearly the very top rung and his hands were over his head, fiddling with a black mount.
“What do you need me to do?”
“You afraid of heights?” He glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes taking her in, taking in the change of clothes and bare feet.
Catarina suddenly wished she’d put on shoes. She could have fantasies about Ridley, but she knew better than to allow anything more than that, and bare feet brought some weird intimacy she hadn’t expected. Or maybe it was the look in his eyes when he did just what he was doing now, his eyes, like melted gold, moving over her body with a hint of things she didn’t quite understand.
“No. I’m not afraid of heights.”
“Good.” He turned back to his work. “Climb up behind me, baby, and pull that screwdriver out of my back pocket. I think you can lean around me and tighten that screw for me.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Her mouth suddenly went dry. “It takes two people to put one of those thingies up?” But already her hand had curled around the ladder. She wanted the security system up. She needed it up. She had no idea how she was going to repay him, but the idea of a few cameras and motion detectors right now, without having to wait a few months, was a huge relief.
“Not as a rule. I was distracted and chose the wrong screwdriver. The other one is in my back pocket. I’ve got this thingie in the perfect place and you can get it secure for me if you’re not afraid of heights.”
Amusement and a challenge. “You knew what I meant.” She began her climb up the ladder. It was so secure it didn’t even shake.
“Kitten. No one says thingie.”
She loved his voice. His voice could make her forget everything. Even if it was for just a few moments. She had to put her hand on his back and then his shoulder to steady herself as she climbed past him. Pulling the screwdriver from his back pocket seemed more intimate than ever and it was just a tool.
“Thingie is acceptable if everyone gets what it means,” she insisted, and slid under his arm so that she could maneuver into position.
She hadn’t thought about how she was going to have to stand, feet on the ladder, her body inside the circle of his arm, stretched up, so that her butt was against his chest. She tried not to be aware of him as she began to twist the screw into the ceiling. It was difficult because his body was hot and the heat moved straight into her like a living flame, heating her blood and putting all kinds of crazy, erotic images in her head.
“I want you to let me into your life,” he said, his voice low. So low she almost didn’t hear him.
Her heart did a little stutter. “I don’t let people into my life.” She tried to be honest. He was so close she could smell him – that clean rain forest scent that took her to another place where there wasn’t danger lurking in every corner.
“I know that, Kitten,” he said. “That’s why I’m asking you to let me in.”
His body was rock hard. Oak tree hard. He was all roped muscle. She could feel his muscles through his thin shirt as she carefully turned the screwdriver.
“Ridley, it’s too dangerous to let anyone in right now.” That was the most she could say, the only warning he would get. “Don’t ask me questions, because I can’t answer them, but not letting anyone into my life is so I know they’re safe.”