You've Got Male. Elizabeth Bevarly

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СКАЧАТЬ she said gently, taking pity on him. “That’s okay. I’ll do it.”

      He threw her a grateful smile and stood up, and within a few moments Avery had taken care of the mess herself. When she stood, the delivery guy was staring at her laptop, frowning at the lines of code that would be incoherent gibberish to anyone who wasn’t familiar with computer programming. He looked over at her and shrugged, smiling an “Oh, well” kind of smile.

      “You must be one ’a them computer programmers,” he said.

      “Kind of,” she told him evasively.

      “I don’t know nothin’ ’bout computers myself. ’Cept how to send e-mail. And even then, a lotta times I’ll screw it up.”

      She tried to smile reassuringly. “Well, that’s true for a lot of people. It can be confusing.”

      He nodded enthusiastically. “Sure can.” He looked at the screen again, then thrust his chin toward it. “Just what’re you doin’ there anyway?” he asked.

      Instinctively Avery moved to the laptop to protect her work, and even though her visitor clearly couldn’t find his megabyte from a hole in the ground, something told her to close the lid and hurry him on his way. Why was he hanging around anyway? she wondered. He’d get his tip from Mohammed when he returned, and she’d be billed for it. That was the way it always worked. Maybe Mohammed hadn’t explained that to him yet. This guy was probably new to the job, since Avery had never seen him before.

      “Uh, it’s just something I’m working on for someone,” she hedged, pushing the top down on the computer as unobtrusively as she could. “Look, I told Mohammed to add your tip to the bill, since I don’t keep any money in the house,” she added.

      The comment seemed to invite mischief, and Avery wanted more than ever to get the guy out of her apartment. He seemed nice enough, and Mohammed always did a thorough background check on his employees, but even guys who were easy on the eye could turn out to be anything but easy.

      “Thanks for making the delivery so late,” she added, hoping that might spur him on.

      But he didn’t take the hint, only stood on the other side of the table gazing at her, as if she were something worth gazing at. Which was the most alarming thing of all, because dressed as she was, in her obnoxious pajamas and her least attractive glasses, with her hair in two long braids, she looked like Pippi Longstocking on crystal meth. If he was staring at her, it wasn’t because he liked what he saw.

      “Thanks again,” she said a little less amiably. “I appreciate it.” When he still made no move to leave, she added, “I’ll see you out.”

      Then she turned to make her way back to the front door, completing the journey without looking back once, and was relieved when the delivery guy followed her. But his pace was slow and relaxed, as if he were in no hurry, and somehow that made Avery want to hurry even more. Although his hands were shoved carelessly into the pockets of his jacket, she couldn’t help worrying that there might be something else in those pockets that could be potentially harmful to her. Like, oh…she didn’t know…a gun, perhaps. Or a knife. Some rope, maybe. Or duct tape.

      Amazing all the dangerous things that would fit easily into a man’s jacket pocket, she marveled. Though somehow she suspected his hands would be the most dangerous weapon of all.

      He was starting to look menacing again, and it occurred to her how truly isolated she was in her life. She didn’t know any of her neighbors and honestly wasn’t sure if any of them would respond to an anguished cry in the night. Not that they’d even hear an anguished cry this time of night, because they were probably all asleep, as normal people were at four-something in the morning.

      And if something terrible did happen to her, who would she turn to in the fallout? Avery hadn’t spoken to anyone in her family for nearly a decade, and she didn’t kid herself that something like an assault or molestation on her part would change that. On the contrary, were her person to be violated, it would just make the rest of the family that much more determined to avoid her. The Nesbitts of East Hampton were still trying to rebuild their social standing in the wake of their youngest child’s exploits. She doubted they’d even send flowers to her funeral.

      Her mouth went dry at the thought of her funeral. Or maybe it was because her visitor came to a halt in front of her with scarcely a breath of air separating them. If he did decide to be menacing instead of majestic, he could easily overpower her and no one would be the wiser.

      Oh, who was she kidding? He could choose to be majestic, too, and she’d still end up a puddle of ruined womanhood at his feet.

      Her heart was hammering hard in her chest again, but surprisingly it wasn’t because she felt threatened by him. No, what Avery was feeling was infinitely more dangerous and more potent than fear. What she was feeling was hunger, plain and simple. And it wasn’t for the bags of groceries this guy had just delivered. It was for an altogether different sort of package that he had.

      Without thinking, she dropped her gaze to the package in question and saw that his jeans hugged him there as intimately as they did elsewhere. And it was a very nice package indeed. When she realized what she was doing, she snatched her gaze back up again, forcing herself to look at his face. But he was smiling at her in a way that told her he knew exactly what she’d been looking at. Worse, he knew she liked what she saw.

      “Thanks again,” she said as she pulled the front door open and moved behind it. But the words came out sounding breathless and needy and in no way grateful.

      “Anytime,” he told her as he took a few steps forward. But he halted at the threshold and turned to look at her one last time. Then he lifted a hand to his forehead in something of a salute and smiled at her. “And, sweetheart, I do mean anytime,” he said before leaving.

      Avery slammed the door closed behind him with no attempt to be subtle about it, thrusting all four dead bolts into place as quickly as she could and hooking the chain back tight. Then she leaned against it, her arms thrown wide over it, as if her too-slim, one-hundred-and-twenty-pound body could actually hold back two hundred towering pounds of solidly packed male.

      Strangely, though, she hadn’t taken those precautions because she feared he might come back and ravish her. It was because she was afraid she’d run after him and beg for it.

      

      SHE SMELLED LIKE PEACHES.

      That was the thought circling with the most frequency around Dixon’s brain thirty minutes after meeting Avery Nesbitt in the flesh. Not the fact that her attire was the sort of thing normally worn by people who’d sustained a severe head trauma. Nor that she hadn’t had a qualm about inviting a total stranger into her apartment, never mind that the stranger was carrying groceries she’d ordered—hell, any Tom, Dixon or Harry could have slipped the real delivery boy a Benjamin out on the street and intercepted those groceries to gain entry into her apartment for nefarious purposes. Nor had Dixon been thinking about what a major slob she was. Or about how she’d actually seemed kind of nice, taking pity on the clumsy delivery boy the way she had and cleaning up the guy’s mess.

      He wasn’t even thinking most about how, judging by the collection of letters and numbers and symbols he’d seen on her laptop screen, she was trying to take over the world. No, what Dixon was thinking about most was that Avery Nesbitt smelled like peaches.

      And, hey, she might not have been trying to take over the entire world. Maybe СКАЧАТЬ