Judy Hubbard - Our First Kiss

They had shared a searing kiss on New Year’s Eve, but since then, he had avoided her like the plague; however, she had never been one to be put off for long, especially not when there was something she wanted. A smile tilted the corners of her mouth; Nathan Carter was about to find that out firsthand.

Not that she needed an excuse, but she did have a built-in reason to seek him out; his sister and her brother were getting married in three days, and as they were both in the wedding party, they naturally had things to discuss and do pertaining to the bride and groom.

Knowing which suite Nathan occupied, Marcy breezed into the very expensive ornate Muse hotel and made her way to the elevators without stopping at the reception desk. She had no intention of having herself announced so he could make up a convenient excuse not to see her. She smiled and punched the button that would take her to the designated floor. When the doors closed, she took a compact from her navy bag, freshened up her red lipstick and made sure her hair was in place before exiting the elevator when it stopped.

While she walked to Nathan’s door, she removed her black leather coat and peeled matching gloves from fingers. Brushing an imaginary piece of lint from the lapel of the figure-hugging navy skirt suit, she took a deep breath, released it and resolutely knocked on the door, waiting impatiently for Nathan to answer. When he did, she fought back a laugh when shock followed by vague annoyance registered on his handsome face.

“Good morning, Nathan,” she brightly greeted, walking past him into the room without waiting for an invitation.

“Come on in,” he said as he sarcastically waved his hand, closing the door behind her.

He scratched his hair-covered chin. Lord, help him! What was Marcy Johnson doing here, and more importantly why was he so glad to see her? Because you’re attracted to her, you idiot!

As always, she looked fabulous and smelled sinfully wonderful. Every nerve ending in his traitorous body stood at rapt attention as they did whenever they were in the same room together. He silently cursed her disastrous effect on his usual steadfast equilibrium.

“What’s wrong, handsome? Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”

Appreciative eyes slowly traveled over the white terry cloth robe he wore, lingering at the V opening that parted revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his smooth, muscled dark brown chest. She fought down an insane urge to jump inside the robe with him and let nature take its course—mmm, mmm, mmm!

“What are you doing here, Marcy?” He pulled his robe together and belted it tighter, eliciting a teasing smile from his gorgeous intruder.

“Well, since our respective siblings are getting married in a few days, I thought you might want to go shopping for a wedding present with me.”

He swallowed a groan as she sat on the edge of his unmade bed and crossed those shapely long legs, hitching the already outrageously short skirt higher on her upper thighs. Her actions caused a quickening of his pulse and an uncomfortable tightening in his groin.

Say no, he silently ordered. In a matter of weeks, maybe days, you’re on your way to Yemen with the rest of your team on a secret mission to rescue the U.S. envoy and his aides from insurgents. You don’t have the time or the right to start anything you know you can’t finish with Marcy, so nip it in the bud—now! Remember your training, and exhibit the self-control you know you possess. Even though you want to say yes, say no.

“I plan on doing my shopping later,” he replied.

“When?” At his silence, she smiled cajolingly. “Come on, Nathan. You have to buy them a present and so do I. Why not come along with me now?”

She stood, walked over to him and touched his arm, feeling firm muscles contract beneath her fingers. Lord, he was rock-solid hard. How did a lawyer get an athletic body like his? Everything about him was just yummy from his close-cropped black hair to his neatly trimmed goatee that just begged for her fingers’ touch. Her heart skipped several beats as she once again marveled at his dizzying effect on her.

“Don’t you have to be somewhere—like at work?”

“Not this morning.” Unable to resist, she took a step closer. “I’m going in later. I cleared my schedule especially for you. You’re not going to let me go to all that trouble for nothing, are you?”

“I appreciate...” He paused, groaning inwardly. He was so close to caving that it was embarrassing.

“Good, then let’s go.” Her fingers tightened on his arm.

A smile played about his lips. “Do you mind if I change first?”

“Don’t do it on my account.” Her eyes slowly traveled over his magnificent form, lingering on the revealed flesh of his legs and chest before locking with his eyes again.

“Well, I hardly think I can go out like this.” He shook his head at her.

She smiled and moved slightly closer to him until their bodies were almost touching. He smelled fresh and clean from a recent shower. His eyes darkened at her actions and seemed slightly unsteady. Good, I do affect him.

Removing her fingers from his arm, he moved purposefully away from temptation by walking a few feet away, bending down to pick up the clothes that were neatly laid out on the bed. He turned toward the bathroom.

“I’ll be ready in a minute,” he shot over his shoulder.

“I’ll be waiting,” she promised and laughed when he sighed loudly before closing the bathroom door behind him. She walked over to the closed door and leaned against it, “I can’t believe your parents let you stay in a hotel—albeit a luxurious one.”

“They weren’t happy about it, but I finally convinced them it was for the best.” His voice was muffled by the closed door.

“Why?”

She placed her hand on the brass knob, toying with the scandalous idea of opening it. What would he do if she sauntered in while he was dressing? The thought of the possible wonderful repercussions of such action on her part almost made her test him. But she decided to be good—for now.

“I’m officially on vacation, but there are some...things that I still need to be on top of. I’ll be getting phone calls at all hours, and it’s just easier if I have my own place.” Inside the bathroom, he smiled as he remembered his mother’s indignation as he had tried to explain that fact to her. She had not been pleased to say the least.

“A workaholic,” Marcy sympathized, reluctantly dropping her hand from the doorknob and walking a few steps away.

He chuckled. “You, too?”

“Uh-huh.”

She peered into his partially open closet. His clothes were neatly hung and ordered by type—shirts, dress pants, jeans, sweaters and several immaculate suits. His shoes were neatly lined at the bottom—also sorted by types. She smiled and made her way over to his dresser and picked up various objects, studying them. Again, everything was neatly lined up in its proper place indicative of a man who thrived on order; she could relate, but she was determined to inject a little well-aimed chaos into his orderly life while he was in town.

“Are you always so disciplined and in control, Nathan?”

“Always.” His response was quick and sure.

She chuckled. “I knew you were going to say that.”

Unable to resist, she opened a drawer and found his socks neatly folded and equally spaced. Another drawer housed his underwear—black boxers, each pair purposefully folded in the same dimensions. She ran her fingers lightly over the soft material, and her smile widened. He gave a new meaning to the word organized.

“What are you doing out there?”

“Waiting for you,” she innocently responded, closing one drawer and then the other. “Were you ever in the military?”