Page 11 of Nick's Baby

"Cut the crap, she's a lady." Nick stood up and pulled her by the upper arm, out of earshot. The warmth from his touch spread through her quickly, surprising her, again. His handshake in the office had been firm, and warm, not hot and sweaty. She was fighting this underlying attraction she had for the man all along and every time he touched her she went to putty. She'd had so many dealings with men through her business she hadn't expected direct contact to affect her. But Nick's touch electrified, and momentarily confused her.

"What do you think you are doing here? How on earth did you find me?"

"Well, which answer do you want first?" she huffed, straightening her slacks. "I came to talk some sense into you."

"Here? Are you crazy? How did you find me? I've been in six different places this morning. This ain't no place for you. And we don't have visiting hours. You might be a corporate executive, but here, you're just another dame."

"Isn't."

He frowned and shook his head. "Go home."

"Now wait a minute," she protested vehemently, following him back to the concrete slab. Throwing her purse down beside him, she dusted the spot next to him with the flat of her hand and sat. "I tried calling first. The line was constantly busy. When I finally got your mother, she couldn't tell me exactly where you were. She said you worked for the city sewer, and I spent some time tracking you here, after I called the city. I've been running all morning to keep up with you. I'm hot, tired, and sweaty, and if you think traveling on foot in these shoes is easy, try it sometime."

A smile escaped his stern face. "For a girl who doesn't like shoes, I'm surprised you never heard of sneakers?"

She rolled her eyes.

"You tracked me all this way?"

"Yes, of course."

"To the city sewer? Nobody does something that stupid."

"Stupid? Are you calling me stupid?"

"If the shoe fits," he glanced at her feet, and shot her a lazy smile. "Look, it's lun

chtime, Ms. O'Sullivan, do you mind? I only have thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes?" she gasped loudly, making heads turn her direction. "That's absurd. You can't properly chew your food in that length of time."

"Chew my food?"

"Yes, of course. You should chew your food at least forty times, before you swallow." When he crooked his head at her she continued, "It helps in digesting."

"Really? Do you?"

"Naturally." she withdrew a Kleenex from her purse to wipe the sweat from her brow. As she looked down at her hand by his side, she noticed a big ugly black bug crawling out of a crack in the cement, and she bolted upright. But when she tried to lift her foot to move, she found herself trapped by a big wad of chewing gum. "Dammit!"

Grinning, Nick flicked the bug away. He seemed to enjoy her losing her cool. He watched in fascination as she squirmed, trying to free her foot, but he didn't offer assistance.

Without forethought, she leaned a hand against his big strong shoulder, as she tried a Kleenex, it only made matters worse, and her more aware of him. He smelled like sweat and grime and all man. A combination she found heady. His flesh was hard and hot to the touch. Perspiration formed between her hand and his shoulder. Her mind skittered about recklessly wondering what the rest of him might feel like, as she lamely attempted to free her shoe.

Nick should be against the law, her mind wandered with her pulse rate pounding in her ears. Were all Italians so sexy?

Great! She groaned as she watched the gum yo-yo. She tried to pry it with a pencil from her purse, it merely stuck then broke. Nothing would remove her heel from the offending goop. Nick whipped out his pocket knife, a big O'Henry and loosened the gum from her shoe. Grabbing her chest, she gaped at the large knife.

"Thanks, I think. Do you always carry a weapon?"

"Hey Nick, need some help?" one man called out.

"You're scarin' the sweet little thing," another chuckled.

Nick ignored them, his gaze lingering on Kelsey.

Kelsey's heart felt as though it might explode it was beating so fast. He shouldn't stare at her like that, those dark eyes probing her. His big wide smile contrasted with the perfectly tan skin, taking her breath away as she stared back.

"I always carry my knife. But I wouldn't call this a weapon, merely a token of my grandfather's love. Now, go back to your tower, Ms. O'Sullivan, where you belong."

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