Janet Evanovich: Full House

"I really should be getting back to the stable. I had to fire a guy, and he didn't take it well."

"In the kitchen, Kaharchek." It was the voice she used to order her students to the principal's office when she caught them playing doctor in the utility closet. No one walked away from that voice. Not even Nick Kaharchek.

He followed her into the kitchen and stood with his back supported by the refrigerator, his hands stuffed into the pockets of well-washed jeans, his feet crossed at the ankles in fake nonchalance. Billie looked at his moccasins and noticed they were clean. Deedee should be excited about that. "You wanted to see me?" he said.

She hobbled to the coffeepot, poured herself another cup of coffee, and took a sip before answering. Another technique she'd learned as a sixth-grade teacher. Authoritative stalling. Never give your victim the upper hand. Always make him wait for that dreaded first sentence. Yessir, everyone knew Mrs. Pearce could make a twelve-year-old squirm, if the situation required it.

Nick didn't squirm quite so easily. He continued to watch her with a steady gaze that was tempered by a slight curve at the corners of his mouth. He wasn't sure if she was working herself into a frenzy, or calming herself down to be civilized; but damned if she wasn't cute, with her discolored foot and flattering running shorts. She had the most perfect legs he'd ever seen. Slightly tanned, smooth-skinned, shapely. He could only imagine those legs wrapped around his waist.

"You're not using your crutch," he said, hoping to chase away his lewd thoughts.

"It's bothersome. I don't need it."

"But the doctor said—"

"That's not why I wanted to talk to you." He simply stood there, his gaze fixed on her legs. Her scare tactics weren't working, Billie realized. Sixth-grade boys were usually quaking by now, but Nick was looking at her as if she were lunch. "Hello!" she called out, trying to get his attention.

He dragged his eyes back to her face. "Mmmm?"

"This was really rotten of you. That woman—" She pointed toward the stairs which led to the bedroom where Deedee was presently napping. "She's going to drive me right over the edge before dinnertime."

"Who, Deedee?" He feigned a look of surprise.

"Don't give me that innocent look. You just didn't want to live with her, so you foisted her off on me."

Nick sighed. She spoke the truth. He was relieved to have Deedee out of his house — she tended to get on his nerves at times — but he would never have dumped her on Billie if it hadn't been absolutely necessary. Max made it necessary. And he had other things on his mind as well.

"Admit it."

Without waiting for an invitation, he poured himself a cup of coffee, and Billie ground her teeth, peeved because he was making her wait, using one of her manipulative devices to his own advantage.

"I really do feel bad about it," he said, trying to sound remorseful, "but you have to understand, I just can't serve any more time with her. I was stuck with her for three months between husbands two and three … or was it three and four?"

"Well, I don't want a stranger in my house so you'll just have to take her back."

"Oh, no." Nick sipped his coffee. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law. You have her. You're going to have to keep her. I'm willing to pay."

"There's not enough money in the world." Billie leaned forward with determination and stuck her face an inch from his. She could see the stubble on his jaw. "Listen up, Kaharchek. This is my vacation, and I don't intend to spend it listening to someone squealing 'Eeyeuuw' all the time, cramming all that luggage in my foyer, and complaining because my furniture isn't French provincial."

"I can arrange to have a new bedroom suite delivered in an hour."

"That's not the way things are done around here. I make do with what I have."

"She's not a bad person, you know. She's just difficult to live with. She's very … um, unique."

"I want her out."

Nick, usually quick on his feet, had trouble concentrating with her so close. He could smell her shampoo, the soap she'd used when bathing, and the light talcum powder she'd sprinkled on herself after toweling dry.

Once again he tried to clear his mind. "Look, I'll make a deal, I'll give you free riding lessons if you'll keep her. By the time your kids return you'll be playing polo like a professional. I can even have you jumping fences." It was a lie, of course. He couldn't imagine Billie Pearce climbing a fence without hurting herself.

Billie pondered his offer. Free riding and polo lessons? Jumping fences? She could almost see the looks of awe on her children's faces. "How many free riding lessons?"

Nick thought for a moment. "Three." Three lessons would give him the time he needed to woo her into his bed. Lord, but he could be a jerk at times.

"Do I have 'stupid' written across my forehead, Kaharchek? I can't possibly accomplish all that with three lessons. Forget it." Once again she pointed toward Deedee's sleeping quarters. "Take her back."

She was tough. "All right, then. You can have as many lessons as you want."

As many lessons as she wanted? At no cost? And Deedee was paying rent to boot. Now he was speaking her language. Surely she could put up with some prissy, empty-headed ex-beauty queen for two weeks.

"Name the horse."

"You won't have to ride Zeke."

"I want a gentle horse, and a promise from you that you won't laugh if I throw my mallet halfway across the field. No wisecracks, not from you or your friend, Miss Flock."

Nick set his coffee cup on the counter and looked at her. "You're pushing it. Besides, I have no control over Sheridan."

"Take it or leave it."

Nick pondered it. He hated being outwitted. He never would have become as successful as he had if he weren't a good businessman, a good negotiator. But Billie Pearce had him by the short hairs, and she knew it. How he would keep Sheridan away was another matter since she boarded her horse at his stable. But he would promise anything; he was just that desperate.

"Okay, deal." Nick offered his hand, and they shook. Giving in had been his first mistake, touching Billie his second. The gentle stirring beneath his belt reminded him of what it had felt like having her fall on top of him. He tightened his grip on her hand, noted the flash of surprise in her eyes, and decided what the hell. If she slapped his face it would be well worth it.

He pulled her hand to his mouth. "Deal," he repeated, kissing the soft center of her palm while fantasizing running his tongue between each finger with tantalizing slowness. There was more to Billie Pearce than chocolate-chip cookies, and despite their obvious differences, he wanted to explore her, taste her on his tongue and savor her.

Billie stood there, stupefied and transfixed, as Nick moved his lips up her forearm, kissing the sensitive inside. What did the man think he was doing! Had he lost his mind? Was he as crazy as the woman in her bedroom? Not that she was any better because she was allowing it!

Billie licked her bottom lip, preparing to give him the verbal beating of a lifetime when he raised his head and brushed his lips across hers.

All thinking ceased.

Nick knew he was a goner the minute he touched Billie's mouth. What on earth had possessed him to do such a thing? Nevertheless, he couldn't seem to stop himself. He pulled her closer, slipping one arm around her waist so he could feel her body against his. One thing was certain, he liked making deals with Billie Pearce, even if she'd gotten the upper hand this time. She felt good in his arms, her skin smooth and cool in her air-conditioned house. His mind ran amok at images of her hot and rumpled in his bed.

Billie finally regained her wits and jerked away. "This isn't part of the deal, Kaharchek. I'm sure most women would be flattered, but I don't do business this way."