Indulging in Irene Page 4

  Zolt swallowed at the same time I did. This was crazy-exciting and so very scary. If Marcus ever saw us together, he’d know immediately.

  Laughing a little, I finally removed my hand from underneath his and picked up the other books, re-shelving them.

  “I feel as if I’m on a wild goose chase,” I said, needing to change the air around us and return it to a professional one. But the affect he had on me made me squeeze my thighs together for relief at the very thought of his hands on me.

  Once the books were put back, we stood in silence just inches from each other. God, he smelled so good, warm and spicy with hints of patchouli and cocoa, all punctuated by essence of Zolt that was uniquely his own. I wanted to lick him all over.

  “Shall we chase this mystery together? Two heads are better than one, as they say.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zolt’s hand rise as if he wanted to touch me. But when I looked down at his hand, it fell back to his side.

  “Sure. Otherwise, I think I’ll be here for the rest of my effing life.”

  Zolt smiled at me, and I swear my panties melted right off. I glanced at the floor to make sure they weren’t lying between my legs in a gooey heap.

  We gathered our things and convened at a table big enough for both our laptops and various books. For hours, we sat together trying to find the elusive case that I was starting to think didn’t fucking exist.

  I glanced over at Zolt and found him looking at me with narrowed eyes. His expression seemed to be one of incredulity.

  “What?” I asked, feeling self-conscious, wiping at my face. “Do I have something on my face?”

  “Nothing,” he said and shook his head. “I’m starting to think this case doesn’t exist.”

  “I know, right?” I slammed the book shut and shoved it away from me. Then, it struck me, and I felt stupid for not thinking of it before.

  “I think I know exactly what case you’re thinking of.”

  “Macintosh vs Handle,” we both said together. That we both had the same idea at the same time should have freaked me out, instead it made me smile.

  “Tortious interference against the defendant in 1955,” Zolt elaborated. “The court granted summary judgment in favor of Macintosh.”

  “Yes. We should have thought of that before. It’s right on point. Gah!” I smacked myself on the forehead.

  “Gah, indeed.” Zolt laughed.

  I punched his arm. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Just a little. The expression on your face was too cute.”

  “Cute, eh? Great. Just what I want to be is cute.”

  Our gazes caught again, and cute was not what I saw in his eyes. Just the opposite. They were dark and smoldering as his gaze dropped to my mouth. He licked his very kissable, full lips.

  Fuck!

  I licked my own lips in response and moved in at the same time he did. Then, I stopped, remembering Marcus. I pushed back from the table and stood, needing to get distance between Zolt and me—distance I didn’t want. What I wanted was to put my hands on either side of his gorgeous face and kiss the shit out of him.

  Why did Marcus have to be in my life now, just when the man I used to dream of taking my virginity, the man I still dreamed of having sex with, was here? It wasn’t fair, and I wanted to scream at the injustice of it all.

  Marcus and I didn’t work now and wouldn’t work in the future.

  “I better go write the memo and send it to Daddy. I’ll make sure your name is on there as well.” I put my laptop in its bag along with the other odds and ends I had scattered on the table.

  “I can write it if you want?” Zolt’s voice seemed suddenly sad.

  “No. There’s no sense in you writing the memo. I’m sure you have better things to do.” I smiled at him, hoping it conveyed how much I’d enjoyed being with him. “It was fun researching with you, Zolt. Thanks for your help.”

  “We make a good team, Irelyn.” He winked at me and I almost fainted.

  “We do. I better go.” I looked over my shoulder to the door. “Later, Zolt.”

  “Bye, Irelyn.”

  As I walked to the door, I could feel his stare burning my back. I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. Zolt was standing at the table, looking in my direction. The need and want in his expression left me unable to breathe, and his corresponding smile nearly broke me. When he closed his eyes and shook his head as if trying to break whatever spell worked between us, my heart fell into my stomach.

  Zolt Hamil wasn’t for me, and I wondered if he ever would be.

  After the library, I made a better effort of staying away from Zolt. I had to. Our connection and the expression on his face when I turned and looked at him as I exited the library was just too confusing. I couldn’t allow myself to indulge in a fantasy that was exactly that, a fantasy.

  My plan worked fabulously until Friday night when my phone rang. I was walking to my car after working like a dog to finish research that Daddy just had to have. I didn’t know why. He wasn’t even in town. He and Mom were in Vegas for the weekend. It was just another means of exerting control over me. At least, I was allowed to drive again.

  Whatthefuckever!

  “Hi, Daddy. What’s up?”

  “Irelyn, I need for you to go into my office, find the Aspen Holdings/Black Swan file, and take it to the new associate, Zolten Hamil,” he demanded without preamble.

  I clutched the phone in my hand so I wouldn’t drop it. “Zolt?”

  “Yes, Irelyn.”

  “Aspen Holdings/Black Swan settled yesterday. Oh, Daddy, why are you testing him?” For a quick moment, I wondered if he was throwing us together for a reason.

  “That’s none of your concern. Before you give him the file, check and make sure the settlement paperwork has been removed. Take all the settlement docs in the system and put them in a password protected file until I tell you to put them back.”

  “I don’t understand?” I said and stopped walking.

  “Just do it, Irelyn. Your mother and I won’t be coming home for several days now. We’ve run into a few friends we haven’t seen in a while. I’ve already sent Zolt an email with all the specifics and told him you’d be coming by.”

  “Daddy, can’t I just have it messengered over?” God, I so didn’t want to go to his house.

  “No, you can’t. I have to go. Your mother says hello.”

  I sighed heavily into the phone as I turned around and walked back into the office. “Fine. Consider it done.”

  “Thank you, Irelyn. Be good and don’t drive too fast. Remember you need to pick up Marcus at the airport on Monday.”

  “I remember. Bye, Daddy.” I pushed end on the phone, feeling more than frustrated. Why was he testing Zolt? Was he testing me too? Why did he keep throwing us together?

  I went to Daddy’s office, pushed in the code for the door, and found the file. I confirmed the settlement information had been removed, and was out in a flash. Then, I went back to my office and made the changes in the system. Ten minutes later, with Zolt’s address in hand, I made my way to my car. Thank God, my phone had GPS because there was no way I’d find his house on my own.

  The drive took about twenty minutes. I drove up to the security gate of the swanky Silverleaf Community. The guard let me in without batting an eye, and I took that as a good sign Zolt was expecting me.

  Oh, God, I thought as I pulled up in his driveway. At least I was in super cute jeans and a sweet Talina Hermann black, sleeveless, leather top. I felt sexy, and I hoped I looked that way because I was pretty sure I was going to hurl.

  I parked the Mustang, grabbed my Gucci handbag and the file, and headed for the door. After climbing the steps to his door, I rang the bell.

  “What a house,” I said. It was a beautiful, single story, Tuscan-style home with a magnificent mountain view. Arched doorways and lots of brickwork always made my architectural dick hard. Zolt’s house had it in spades, and it must have cost him a pretty penny.

&n
bsp; It made me happy to think he’d been smart with his NFL money, and planned for life beyond football.

  The door opened, and I jumped, lost in my lusty thoughts about his house.

  “Irelyn?” Zolt said, smiling at me.

  “Oh! Hi,” I said and put my hand over my heart. “You startled me. I was admiring your home and the view. It’s spectacular.”

  “Sorry and thank you.” His eyes dropped from my face and journeyed down my body. I swear I could feel the path his gaze traveled. My skin blazed in response.

  “Come in.” He stepped back from the door to allow me in.

  I stepped inside and watched as he shut the door. This time, it was my turn to take him in.

  Fuck, he was hot, looking relaxed in a soft, heather-gray T-shirt and worn jeans that fit him perfectly, showing off all his assets. In his short sleeves, I could see his toned upper body. I tried, and failed, not to stare at his crotch, but his bulge was hard to ignore.

  I licked my lips. Yeah, the years have only made him sexier.

  “Thanks,” I said, more breathy than I meant to. “Your body is lovely. Uh, I mean home. Your home is lovely. The Tuscan–style architecture and all.”

  Face palm! Fucking mental face palm! I can’t believe I just said that. Ugh!

  “Uh, thanks.” He gave me a wicked smile that only made my flaming blush grow hotter.

  He turned and looked at me for a few heartbeats, and his demeanor changed. His brow furrowed slightly, forming lines on his forehead. I got the impression he was deciding something; rolling over an idea in his head that he wasn’t exactly sold on.

  “I love this house,” he finally said. “Having to wait for it to be built sucked, but it has been well worth the wait.”

  He walked by me into the living room. I stood there feeling stupid, not knowing if I should follow him, but when he stopped and looked back at me and smiled, I trailed after him. The heels of my Jimmy Choos clicked and clacked on the travertine, tiled floor. Through the tile’s reflection, I could see the post and beam ceiling. The contrast of the dark stained beams and white ceilings made me salivate.

  “Irelyn?” Zolt said, a smile lilting his voice.

  “Sorry. I just really love this house. It’s warm and inviting, yet has a masculine quality without feeling man cave-ish.”

  “Man cave-ish?” Zolt asked, arching a brow.

  “You know, beer mirrors, sports memorabilia, pinball machines?”

  “I like to think I have more taste than early frat boy.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Come with me,” he said and took my hand.

  We walked toward the back of the house, hand in hand. I smiled at my hand in Zolt’s. His larger hand engulfed my smaller one, and it was warm and soft, our connection was in full charge.

  Whoa!

  He opened the door to the patio, and we stepped out into the hot summer evening. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a palette of purples, oranges, reds, and golds, all of which were reflected in his infinity pool.

  “Gorgeous,” I sighed happily.

  “I thought you might enjoy it. It was exactly what you’re seeing now that inspired the interior décor.”

  “Nice. Your decorator did a great job.”

  “She did. Is that the file?” Zolt asked, dropping my hand.

  “What? Oh, yes.” I handed over the file.

  He took it, flipped it open, and closed it. “I’ll look at it later. I was about to have a beer. Do you want one?”

  “Sure. I could use a beer.” My stomach took that opportunity to growl, loudly, and I placed my hand on my tummy. “Or maybe not. I haven’t eaten yet. I should probably go.”

  “I just ordered pizza. You’re welcome to stay. I always order too much. You eat meat?”

  “Um, yeah. But really, I don’t want to impose.”

  “Not an imposition. No worries if you can’t stay. I just thought you should be rewarded for schlepping out here to bring me a file on a Friday night. Certainly, you have better things to do.”

  The words “I can’t stay” were on the tip of my tongue, but instead I said, “Nope, nothing better to do. A beer and a slice sounds great.”

  Zolt flashed his stunning smile at me. His crystalline-blues lit, apparently delighted with my decision to stay. “Great. I’ll be right back.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Uh-uh. Do you want a glass?” he called as he walked into the house.

  “Bottle’s fine.”

  I watched him walk back into his house, and noticed his unmistakable limp. Images from that day came back to me, and I flinched, remembering his words from the other day.

  When he came back through the door, he caught me fanning myself with my hand.

  “Too hot, huh?” he said and handed me a beer.

  “A little. This leather top isn’t great for sitting outside.”

  Zolt stared at my top for a long minute. He was welcome to look. I knew this top made my boobs look amazing.

  “Uh,” he took a long swig of his beer. “No, I guess not. Inside?”

  I nodded and followed him in, happy when the AC hit my face as he shut the door.

  “Better?”

  “Yes, much.”

  We sat on his chocolate-brown sectional couch. I ran my hand on the butter soft leather, loving how it felt against my skin.

  I looked up at him and found him staring at me. His gaze was dark and needy as it met mine.

  I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend. I have a boyfriend, I reminded myself.

  At this moment, I didn’t care. If Zolt wanted to fuck me on this couch, right now, I’d let him.

  I don’t know what got into me. I considered it, briefly, and then before I could sensor myself, I heard myself invite Irelyn to drink beer and eat pizza. Now, two beers each, and a few slices of pizza later, we were sitting on my couch with the TV on in the background.

  She looked so comfy with her legs curled under her. God, she was so fucking beautiful that I couldn’t stand it. Those damn sable eyes of hers, they called to me on a deeper level—a level I’d thought had abandoned me. Their depths pulled me back to the only good thing that happened that day. The one thing I’d convinced myself wasn’t real, was in my house, relaxing on my couch. But this wasn’t the young girl who’d looked at me with eyes so much older than her years. This was a woman who made my cock twitch every time I looked at her.

  This is bad. Really, really bad.

  The other day at the library, I’d wanted to kiss her so badly, I almost bit a hole through my cheek. The way she carried herself with absolute confidence made her sexy as hell. Every outfit I’d seen her in emphasized her curves perfectly. Irelyn wasn’t a skinny woman, but curvy, firm, and soft. She was fucking gorgeous, and I needed to stay the fuck away from her.

  It was not that she was barely twenty-one, and I was almost twenty-nine. I could deal with that. She was the daughter of the founding partner of a law firm I had only been with for a week. The flavor of trouble she brought to my palate was sweet and a little bitter, and so very enticing. I was crazy for considering doing anything with her.

  And yet, there was a connection between us unlike anything I had ever felt, and I knew she felt it too. I saw it in her eyes at the library, felt it in her touch. This woman was driving me crazy.

  “Did you really cry when Fred died?” she asked me with a disbelieving tilt to her head. The sound of her voice pulled me from my musings.

  “Well, it wasn't an ugly cry. But sure, I sniffed once or twice. I loved Fred Weasely. Fred and George’s escapades reminded me of some of the crazy shit my brother Brody and I used to do growing up,” I answered truthfully.

  “I love that you’ve read Harry Potter. It’s one of my favorite series of all time.”

  I watched as she twisted her hair into a knot at the back of her head. I was still watching, when two minutes later, it fell loose from its confines and cascaded over her shoulders.

  Fuck! I drew my teeth
over my bottom lip, trying to get my oversexed—or perhaps, undersexed—mind from mentally undressing her. My cock already wanted out to play. I didn’t need my mind generating naked images of her to encourage it.

  I should yawn, and start sending her hints that I was tired. But I wasn’t tired yet. More than that, I wasn’t ready for her to leave.

  What I wanted to do was pull her to me and start kissing her, and see where that got us. The vibes coming from her were mixed. I got the distinct impression she was interested but held back. Maybe my injury and my limp turned her off, but I didn’t think so. Something else made her reticent.

  “So, besides Harry Potter, what else have you read?” I asked, interested, but more importantly, I wanted to keep the conversation moving.

  “Well, I could lie and tell you I only read highbrow lit. You know, the Bronte Sisters and T.S. Elliot, but since I have already admitted my love for Harry, I guess I ruined that illusion. I love paranormal romance, urban fantasy, contemporary romance; you get the picture.”

  “I do. I’m a big Jim Butcher fan, myself,” I confessed. “When I get the chance to read, that is. Which, I have a feeling will be less and less now.”

  “Ugh, I know that feeling. I usually catch up on reading during the summer, but Daddy has me working all these hours. Penance,” she groaned.

  “Penance?” Now, this piqued my interest. “For?”

  Irelyn rolled her eyes. “Speeding tickets. Or, more specifically, that he saved my license from being suspended for too many points.”

  “Really? Just how fast were you going? I assume you were driving that sweet Mustang out there?”

  “Yep. I was going one-ten in a fifty-five. I was on a side road burning off some steam before I got home.”

  “You burn off steam by driving one-ten?” I asked and finished my beer, and then placed the empty on the table. I had to smile. Irelyn was a woman after my own heart.

  She smirked at me and lifted one brow. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Uh, no. Thank God. Though I’ve pushed the Viper to over one-ten myself.”

  “Viper? Nice ride. But yeah, my brother, Chris, taught me great driving techniques. I can handle myself. Chris wanted to be a racecar driver. NASCAR,” she said sadly.