This Heart of Mine (Chicago Stars #5)(40)

A round oak table for informal dining sat in front of the windows. Printed pillows covered the seats of the farmhouse chairs, and a punched-tin chandelier hung above. Behind the house the yard sloped down to the lake, with woods on each side.

She peeked into a large, well-stocked pantry that smelled of baking spices, then entered a small connecting room, where the very modern computer resting on an old tavern table signaled that this was the office. She was tired of walking, so she sat down and booted it up. Twenty minutes later she heard Kevin.

"Molly! Where the hell are you?"

Slytherin rudeness didn't deserve a response, so she ignored him and opened another file.

For a normally graceful man, he had an unusually heavy step that morning, and she heard his approach long before he located her. "Why didn't you answer me?"

She repositioned the mouse as he came up behind her, deciding it was time to face up to him. "I don't answer roars."

"I wasn't roaring! I was—"

When he didn't finish, she looked up to see what had distracted him. Outside the window a very young woman in skimpy black shorts and a tight, scoop-neck top flew across the garden, followed by an equally young man. She turned and ran backward, laughing and taunting him. He called out something to her. She grabbed the hem of her top and tugged it up, flashing her bare breasts.

"Whoa…" Kevin said.

Molly felt her skin grow hot.

The man caught her around the waist and dragged her into the woods so that they weren't visible from the road, although Kevin and Molly could see them clearly. He leaned against the trunk of an old maple. She immediately jumped on him and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Molly felt the slow pulse of dormant blood stirring as she watched the young lovers begin to devour each other. He cupped her bottom. She pressed her breasts to his chest, then, resting her elbows on his shoulders, caught his head to steady it, as if she weren't already kissing him deeply enough.

Molly heard Kevin move behind her, and her body gave a sluggish throb. She could feel his height looming over her, his warmth penetrating her thin top. How could someone who made his living with sweat smell so clean?

The young man turned his lover so that her back was against the tree. He pushed a hand under her T-shirt and covered her breast.

Molly's own breasts tingled. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't manage it. Apparently Kevin couldn't either, because he didn't move, and his voice sounded vaguely husky.

"I think we've just caught our first glimpse of Amy and Troy Anderson."

The young woman dropped to the ground. She was petite but leggy, with dishwater-blond hair pulled up in a purple scrunchy. His hair was darker and cut close to his head. He was thin and quite a bit taller than the girl.

Her hands slipped between their bodies. It took Molly only a moment to realize what she was doing.

Unzipping his jeans.

"They're going to do it right in front of us," Kevin said softly.

His comment jerked Molly out of her trance. She bolted up from the computer and turned her back to the window. "Not in front of me."

His eyes drifted from the window to her, and for a moment he didn't say anything. He just gazed at her. Again that sluggish pulsing in her bloodstream. It reminded her that even though they'd been intimate, she didn't know him.

"Getting a little hot for you?"

She was definitely warmer than she wanted to be. "Voyeurism isn't my thing."

"Now, that surprises me. This should be right up your alley, since you seem to like preying on the unsuspecting."

Time hadn't diminished the embarrassment she felt. She opened her mouth to apologize once again, only to have something calculating in his expression stop her. With a shock she realized that Kevin wasn't interested in groveling. He wanted to be entertained with an argument.

He deserved her very best, but her brain had been inactive for so long, it was hard to come up with a response. "Only when I'm drunk."

"Are you saying you were drunk that night?" He glanced out the window, then back at her.

"Totally wasted. Stoli on ice. Why else do you think I behaved like that?"

Another look out the window, this one lasting a bit longer. "I don't remember you being drunk."

"You were asleep."

"What I remember is that you told me you were sleepwalking."

She managed a huffy sniff. "Well, I hardly wanted to confess that I had a problem with alcohol."

"Recovered now, are you?" Those green eyes were much too perceptive.

"Even the thought of Stoli makes me nauseous."

His gaze raked a slow, steady path over her body. "You know what I think?"

She swallowed. "I'm not interested."

"I think I was just irresistible to you."

She searched her imaginative brain for a scorching comeback, but the best she could come up with was a rather pitiful "Whatever makes you happy."

He shifted his position to get a better view of the scene outside. Then he winced. "That's got to hurt."

She wanted to look so badly she could barely stand it. "That's sick. Don't watch them."

"It's interesting." He tilted his head slightly. "Now, that's a new way to go about it."