The husky lilt of her sultry voice wrapped around him like silk. There wasn’t much about her that didn’t ring his bells. Riley watched her sway down the long hallway to the kitchen.
When she disappeared into the kitchen, he raced up the stairs two at a time. He ran to the end of the hall and into his bedroom, peeling off his sweaty coveralls and thinking if he was stealthy enough he could con her into an impromptu let-me-jump-your-bones dinner.
He took the fastest shower that he ever had. All the while his mind was racing, wondering if he had enough food in the refrigerator in case he could coax her into staying for said sexy dinner. Visualizing the contents of his refrigerator, he frowned. He had four to-go boxes from the diner, since he ate there almost every night. Not a lot to choose from. Nothing he could throw together and impress her with. He hoped green stuff hadn’t grown on them.
Then he remembered he had steaks. New York cuts. Chloe had gone shopping yesterday and brought over a pity basket for him. And they were thawed out. Thank God he was still friends with his ex-wife. He could fire up the grill and he’d be the dinner hero. He could make corn. He always had canned corn because he loved it.
Calm yourself down, boy. You’ll be done before you even started proper.
Checking his face in the mirror, he realized he had a bit of stubble on his chin, but decided just to leave it. Shaving would take too much time. Besides a girl he’d dated a few months back had told him it made him look sexy and wild. Sexy and wild was a good thing. Right? God, what was up with him? He was acting like a lovesick puppy dog.
When he was certain he smelled decent and his hair had been tamed, he went to the closet and yanked a black denim shirt off a hanger. He found his last pair of clean jeans slung over his leather reading chair. He had to make some quality time for laundry, especially since his housekeeper Mrs. Clark wouldn’t be home from visiting her pregnant daughter for another two weeks.
He ran down the stairs barefooted. About halfway down he stopped. Where the hell were his socks and shoes?
“Riley? Where are you?” Nell’s sweet sensual voice saved him from sinking further into thoughts of a past he could never repair.
“Right here.” He entered the bright kitchen.
She leaned against the center island’s butcher block he’d built, beneath the wrought-iron pot holder with the copper pots and pans he’d never learned how to use since he didn’t know to cook. He just liked the way the shiny pots reflected the sun in the morning. “Didn’t mean to take so long.”
She bent slightly and patted Chester on the head. “That’s all right.”
For the first time since she’d walked up his driveway, he wondered why she was here. Probably about the trellis on her house damaged by last week’s freak storm. He’d promised to get to that soon. “Is it the trellis in the backyard?”
Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
“The trellis. You remember. Last week. Storm. Trellis.” With his hand, he mimicked the trellis falling down in the wind. “I know I promised to fix it, but things have been…” His voice trailed away.
She smiled sweetly. “No, no. I mean, yes it still needs repair, and I know you’ll get that done, but I didn’t come to discuss the trellis.”
He opened the refrigerator and grabbed the glass pitcher full of sweet tea, the only thing besides scrambled eggs he really could make with any degree of confidence.
He used to be much better at seduction.
He smiled at Nell, who looked away, the color on her cheeks deepening. Don’t rush her. Let her think it was all her idea. “So why are you here?”
Nell tugged at the tight white collar of her pink uniform. “Did you like being an architect?” she asked instead of answering his question. He could see she was nervous and his curiosity grew stronger. What was on her mind?
Riley prided himself on his ability to put women at ease. He set the pitcher on the tiled counter and took two glasses out of the cabinet. He poured iced tea into each glass. “Yes and no. I liked the creativity, but not all the detail work. I like restoring old homes better.” He handed her the glass of tea.
She took a sip. “Did you like living in Chicago?”
He wondered what she was getting at. He watched, fascinated, as her little pink tongue moved slowly over her bottom lip. He caught his breath and gripped the back of the countertop. Have mercy!
“Are you okay?” Nell asked, looking concerned.
Another illicit fantasy flitted through his mind. “Fine. What did you say?”
She sipped her tea and took a moment to set the glass down before looking up at him again. “Did you like living in Chicago?”
He’d hated Chicago and once Chloe had wanted to be close to her aging parents he’d been happy to leave. “Not really. I’m a small-town boy at heart.” Forcing himself to let her take the lead was killing him. Let’s just jump on the dining room table and get to the fun stuff. Though he knew that would never happen no matter how he prayed for it. Nell Evans wasn’t the type of girl to jump into any man’s bed.
She took a deep breath, showing off her voluptuous breasts at their very best. “I want to ask you if you would do something for me.”
Riley raised an eyebrow. Here it comes. He looked deep into the chocolate-brown eyes that had haunted his innermost fantasies for most of his life. He could deny her nothing. “Anything.”
“Would you teach me about sex?”
Chapter 2
Okay, Nell thought, at the look of shock on Riley’s face. Maybe the direct approach wasn’t the wisest choice of action. As Riley continued to remain silent, his hand wrapped around the empty glass, astonishment showed on his face and in his deep brown eyes.
Her confidence began to deteriorate. Somehow, in the cold light of day, the idea she’d had in the deep of the night didn’t seem logical anymore. She’d been dreaming about the future and realized she had her future in the palm of her hand. She could finally, after so many years, make her dream a reality. She could finally go to New York, go back to school to become something other than poor, old, boring inexperienced Nell. But how was she going to fulfill her aspirations of being the quintessential New York City sophisticate if she was still a virgin?
Riley blinked at her a couple of times, then shook his head and screwed his finger in his ear. “Would you say that one more time for me?”
Wiping damp palms on her uniform, she swallowed the lemon-sized lump in her throat. She knew Riley wasn’t attracted to her. He liked pretty women. Thin women. Women who had perfected the art of conversation.
“I was wondering if…” she said in a timid tone. “Well, if you could…teach me how…” She stared at her shoes, noticing she had a spot of country gravy on the left tip and a smear of what looked like peanut butter on the right one. “About sex?”
He just stood there with his mouth open, staring at her as though he couldn’t believe her. She didn’t blame him. He had some of the most beautiful women in three states lining up to seduce him. Why would he even entertain the notion of making love to her?
He leaned against the counter, seeming to ponder her words.
Nell had to admit she just liked looking at him. He was tall and well-built, with the grace of a dancer and the movements of a panther. Wide shoulders tapered down to a trim waist and strong muscular thighs. His skin was a lovely shade of light cinnamon and his hair was cut close to his scalp. Little droplets of water still sparkled on the surface of his black hair.
Once upon a time, she’d dreamed about marrying and starting a family with someone like him. But those young-girl dreams had been abandoned as the years crept by and very few men had showed