Natalie Anderson - In Bed With the Enemy

He sighed and brought up his own stupid blog. He had to write a post, but honestly he didn’t know what he was going to say. The number of comments had gone up massively and he felt a buzz. Yeah, he could see the attraction now—it was somehow satisfying to see more and more people were tuning in to his words. Good grief, was he going to turn as narcissistic and ratings-driven as his dad? Uh—no. Because he was about to write himself into a corner.

He typed a title.

Nailing Her on Number 2

Now what? How the hell was he going to get around this one?

Have to be careful here, boys, because as we know OlderNWiser is reading my write-ups—and commenting now too. Welcome, darling—we always appreciate your thoughts. But it means I can’t give away too much strategy before the deal.

Actually, he didn’t have any strategy. He was winging it now—going on his gut in these uncharted waters.

What I can tell you is that date number two is the lady’s choice and she’s opted for a “day date”—I think this is her thinking she’ll escape the nailing. But I guess that depends on what it is you all think I’ll be nailing.

I may be a bloke, but I’m not that crude. Not always.

Yeah, right. It was all he could think about. All he wanted, wanted, wanted.

What I’m talking about here is not the physical, I’m talking the emotional. The intent. What you want to nail on date number two is her interest. Get her intrigued and soon enough you’ll get anything else you might care to want.

So how do you nail her interest?

You tease out her curiosity, and with that you trap her. Tease and trap, boys. Give them a little mystery, a little reticent man, and then let them think they can be the one to figure you out.

Ethan had been right. Nadia couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about him and her and what she shouldn’t do with him if she were going to remain a sane, sensible woman. But she wanted to, and in just a few short days it had become a complete obsession.

Yeah, she knew she was obsessive—she got these great ideas and ran after them with all her energy. Some ideas were great—some were rubbish. Ethan Rush wasn’t a great idea. Did she really want to risk herself with him? She leaned back in her big comfy chair and stared at his taunting words on the screen while the ones he’d whispered to her replayed round and round in her head—that she should live moment by moment and not be a coward. And on top of that temptation he planned to “tease and trap” her? Oh, he already had. She was so interested already. He had all the benefit of his beautiful body and the charm that he’d honed with years of experience. And he was clearly smart. Very smart. She liked that in a guy too. But she snorted at the last line—she didn’t want to figure him out. She just wanted to jump his bones.

Only she was being a coward. For what was the risk here? What was it she was so afraid of? A broken heart? She laughed at the ridiculousness—there was no way her heart was at risk with Ethan Rush.

Suddenly she saw she’d been thinking about this all the wrong way. Full of fear about being used, hating herself for coming so close to being just another of his easy conquests. She didn’t want to be the passive victim.

So then she shouldn’t be passive, right? She should be the one in charge. She should do what she wanted to do—control the situation and her response to it. Sure—live in the “moment”, be brave, be the boss.

This wasn’t just about the notches on his bedpost—what about her own bedpost? Why shouldn’t she carve in a beautiful mark to remind her of an incredible sensual experience? Why shouldn’t she enjoy the rush that was Ethan?

She wanted, and there was nothing wrong with wanting.

And he wasn’t completely indifferent. Yes, his response had been instinctive—she knew that. The guy had a high sex-drive. That was okay—because for sure they weren’t talking relationship. They were talking hook-up. She just had to be sure she understood what it was she wanted.

Rafe’s intentions had not been honourable. She’d been expecting something different from that relationship. She’d wanted more. She didn’t want more from Ethan. She just wanted his body, his expertise, to feel some more of the way he’d made her feel.

Wasn’t she worth it? Didn’t she deserve to experience that kind of sizzling animal passion? Why couldn’t she use instead of being the one who was used? It wasn’t as if it was ever going to bother him. He wasn’t sensitive enough to get hurt. If she let go of her old ‘happy ever after” expectation and just went with “what feels right now” she’d be fine.

She giggled at her thoughts, mocking the way her brain could work, twisting and turning to justify something simply because she wanted it so badly. But she deserved some fun and he’d be good. And then it would be over—this bubble of obsession would be burst.

But what of her original aim? Could she still teach him a lesson? She was under no illusions that he’d fall for her if she slept with him, but surely she could still execute a flick-off somehow? She’d figure something out …

The immediate problem was that he was resisting the heat between them. Even though she knew he’d been turned on the other night, he’d stopped. She was going to have to subvert his mission to prove himself a nice date. She was going to have to make his physical instincts overrule his intellectual intentions.

She was going to have to provoke him into action.

Saturday morning Ethan snatched up his phone when he read the caller display. ‘Hello, darling. Ready to do date two?’

‘I might be ready by tomorrow. Can you wait that long?’

Ethan’s brows shot up. So did another part of him. He hadn’t expected her to purr quite like that. He stretched back in his bed and enjoyed listening as she continued softly.

‘I’ve checked the forecast and it looks good. So we can meet there.’

‘Where?’ he asked.

‘Hyde Park. By the Serpentine.’

‘Going public?’ he noted.

‘And in broad daylight.’

He could hear the smile in her voice. It made him smile all over.

‘Coward,’ he mocked.

‘Not at all. But …’ Her voice trailed. ‘You need to dress for action.’

‘What kind of action?’ He couldn’t suppress his physical reaction to the way she’d tossed out that little double entendre so carelessly.

‘Something you can move in.’

‘Okay.’ He couldn’t move for the anticipation making him rigid now. He tossed the phone away and breathed deep to relax. Hell, he had to get out of bed and do something to release some energy. She was definitely taking him for a walk in the park, like on her list—too damn tame. But perhaps that was her point.

The next afternoon couldn’t come soon enough for Ethan. He forced himself to walk rather than run there. The sun beat hot on his back and people were at the park in their masses. Ice-cream vendors were doing a roaring trade. He wanted them all to clear off. He wanted to be alone with her.

He loitered by the water, on edge, wondering if she was going to stand him up. His edges sharpened. If she did, he was damn well going to make her pay—somehow.

A roaring sound behind him grew louder, and just as he turned something crashed into him. A lithe body. A very hot one. His hands automatically shot out to steady her.

She blinked and smiled up at him. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

He kept his hands on her narrow waist. ‘Not a problem.’

She was taller. He glanced down. She was wearing rollerblades. Oh, man. A sexy roller-chick image flashed in his head. He blinked it away and checked out the reality. Nope—not minuscule hotpants, but black leggings and a tee shirt.