Lori Foster - No Limits

The words no sooner left her than she winced. Of course he remembered. As Mary had said, details of the entire ordeal had played out in the news. She’d refused all interviews, but she knew her face had appeared plenty of times.

His attention, friendly as it might be, didn’t help to calm the stampeding of her pulse. “You’re not at all forgettable.”

Nodding, she said in apology, “Of course you’re right.”

One brow lifted and he grinned.

Oh, God, worse and worse. Yvette tried a glance at Cannon, but if anything, he looked more amused than Rowdy. “I meant because of the trial and everything. I sometimes forget how many times they plastered my pathetic face in the news.”

“That’s not how he meant it,” Cannon chided.

Rowdy’s mellow gaze warmed. “No, it isn’t.” Luckily, he let that go as he turned to Cannon. “Make use of the bar however you want.”

Wondering what that meant, Yvette watched Cannon, but he just nodded. “Thanks.”

“I’ll let you get back to your private chat in just a second. But first, a lot of people are calling in, asking if you’re really here. Word is spreading. I suspect we’ll be mobbed very shortly.”

“Damn.” Cannon stretched out his long legs and shook his head. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s not a problem for me. We like the business.” After a glance at Yvette, Rowdy said, “I’m assuming you plan to cut out for the night?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No worries. I understand.”

Well, she didn’t. Again, she wanted to protest, but with Rowdy standing between them it would be rude to interrupt.

“How would you feel about announcing a night that you’ll be around? Say in a week or two? That’ll give you time to settle in, and hopefully keep people from crowding you in the meantime.”

“A week or two?” Her appalled tone blew her cool, polite facade. “You’re staying that long?”

“Yeah, I am.” The heated stare Cannon leveled on her held too many meanings for her to decipher. “At least.”

Happiness bloomed—but she denied it. Okay, so it’d be fantastic to see him more. It was still unexpected. She had assumed he’d make it a couple of days at most—long enough for her to explain that she’d handle everything, then send him his check once things were settled. He’d said his sister still had the family home here, and she knew he visited often, but from what she’d understood, his life was now in Harmony, Kentucky. “What about your training?”

“I just finished a fight, so unless the SBC says differently, I’ll wind it down some.” His eyes darkened. “Besides, I have weights I can set up in the basement.”

“The... What basement?”

“Our basement.”

Oh, good Lord. Now he considered her grandfather’s house theirs? Sure, technically it was, but she hadn’t expected him to assert his rights beyond wanting a quick sale of the properties.

Every question she had sounded rude, so Yvette clammed up.

Apparently that suited the men just fine.

“I could throw out some promotion, make a big deal of it.” Rowdy propped a hip on the table. “Think you’d be in for autographs and photos?”

“Sure. Whatever you want. Maybe I could even work that night, like I used to.”

Rowdy laughed. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m offering. It’d be fun.” He glanced around the break room. “To be honest, I miss the place.”

“Simpler times?”

“Something like that.”

With both men looking at her, Yvette almost squirmed. Were they insinuating that she’d complicated things? Ha! She did her utmost to make it easier on Cannon. He was the one being difficult.

Clapping him on the shoulder, Rowdy said, “If you have the time, come by tomorrow. We can talk more then. And hey, if you need help with anything, let me know.”

“Will do.”

The second Rowdy left the room, Yvette surged to her feet. Cannon didn’t. If anything, he lounged back more, his indolent posture reminding her of a lean, muscular jungle cat.

Just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

Wound too tight, beyond weary, she rubbed at her temple to fend off an approaching headache.

“Loosen your hair,” Cannon suggested, but the way he said it made it sound sexual instead of sensible.

“It’s okay.” She dropped her hand, then went straight to her top concern. “You really intend to stay at the house?”

Folding his hands behind his head, he nodded. “Yup.”

Keeping her attention on his face instead of his awesome physique proved impossible. That particular position put outstanding biceps on display and pulled his soft cotton T-shirt taut over the solid surface of his chest and rigid abs.

Just looking at him made her breathe deeper. But then, thinking about him did that to her, too. Being in close, personal proximity with him, seeing his easy smile and modest attitude, was enough to keep her flushed with sexual curiosity.

God, the man was fine. Wide, solid shoulders, narrow hips and his... She swallowed hard and skipped her gaze past his lap to his long, solid legs.

Stop, she ordered herself. Only a masochist would continue teasing herself when she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Reminded of her deficiency, Yvette snatched up her purse and shrugged the strap over her shoulder. “All right, then. I guess I’ll see you there.”

All kinds of suspicious, Cannon sat forward. “You’re still going there, too?”

Ah, so he’d hoped to find an altruistic way to spare her from staying at the big, bad house where all her trauma had occurred.

Her lip almost curled—with self-derision. “Yes, I am.” He’d see that she didn’t need to be saved. “Is that a problem?”

Maybe now he’d bow out.

Instead he unfolded that long, tall body until he stood over her. Too close. So close that she felt the heat radiating off him.

He kept doing that, getting in her space in an intimate way. Making her heart race. Making her want things she couldn’t have.

He touched her chin. “Not for me.”

Oh. The way he said that, as if he expected it to be a problem for her.... And it would be. A torturous, frustrating problem—one she’d deal with on her own. “There are three bedrooms and two baths, so it should be fine.”

With probing intensity, his gaze moved over her face. “If you say so.”

Discretion being the better part of valor, she decided to retreat.

Catching her arm before she’d taken a single step, Cannon used his thumb to caress her skin. “It’ll be just the two of us, alone there together.”

“Well, I hope so.” She hadn’t even considered the alternative, but maybe she should have. Unpleasant possibilities had her glaring. “You don’t plan to move anyone else in, do you? Mary or some other woman?”

He laughed before catching himself. “No.” Showing no signs of offense, he caught her other arm, too. “Just you and me.”

The way he stared at her mouth prompted her to lick her lips.

Bad idea, given the flare in his blue eyes.

“I’ll, ah, give you privacy.” It took all her conviction not to lean into him, to resist the lure of his nearness. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Not even close.”

The rough velvet words weakened her resolve. “Then—”

“My worry is a man and woman alone with beds nearby.” He drew her up to her tiptoes. “Unless that’s what you want.”

She couldn’t think. “What?” she whispered.

His breath teased over her lips. “Us, together.” His voice went deeper, rougher. “Making use of the beds.”

When she only stared at him, she saw the smile in his eyes—seconds before his mouth touched the corner of hers.

“Sex,” he breathed.