Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Pete 'Monty' Montgomery 1)

“You’re wrong,” Louise was saying. “It’s the perfect time. We’ve both had a hellish week. We’re both dodging the media. We can do that together.”

“I have company,” Blake bit out.

“Company.” Louise digested that news with more than a little irritation. “Family or friends?”

This was too good to pass up.

Devon rose, combing her hair with her fingers and marching to the foyer. “Blake?” she called as she rounded the bend and Louise came into view. “I think I smell something burning. Should I check on the—oh, excuse me.” She came to a halt, her expression rife with fabricated surprise. “I didn’t realize anyone was here. Ms. Chambers, isn’t it?” She gave Louise a bright smile. “We met the other day.”

“Yes, we did.” Louise was clearly choking on her words and on her smile. “Dr. Montgomery. Nice to see you.”

“Please—it’s Devon.” Devon shifted her innocent gaze to Blake. “I didn’t realize Ms. Chambers would be joining us for dinner.”

“She’s not.” Blake’s lids were hooded, his jaw set. He was pissed off. Whether it was because Louise had intruded or because her unwelcome timing was a glaring proclamation that there really was something going on between them and he’d lied through his teeth—that remained to be seen.

“I appreciate your concern, Louise.” There was a definite note of finality in his tone. “But I’m hanging in. We all are.”

Enough time had passed for Louise to regain her composure. “Of course we are. There’s no other choice.” She flashed another, equally plastic smile at Devon. “I’m sorry I intruded—Devon. Enjoy your dinner.”

“Thank you—Louise. And you enjoy your evening.”

Blake shut the door and turned around, arms folded across his chest. “What was that?”

“You tell me,” Devon shot back. “I think it was the woman you’re not seeing and not friends with, dropping by to offer you comfort in bed.”

“I know what that was. What was your little one-woman show? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were staking your claim, and warning Louise to back off.”

Devon bristled. “That goes to show how arrogant you are. This has nothing to do with staking a claim. It’s exposing a lie. Being cryptic is one thing. Lying is another.”

Blake glared back. “I wasn’t lying. Louise and I are colleagues. Before last week, we never spoke outside the office. But she was pretty freaked out by Frederick’s death. So she’s called a couple of times. We’ve talked. Period.”

“And this impromptu visit?”

“Her first. She’s never been here. I’ve never been to her place. And, for the record, I resent like hell being interrogated. If I didn’t want to get past these ridiculous misconceptions of yours, I’d be ripping mad. So, for the last time, I’m not sleeping with Louise, seeing Louise, or palling around with Louise.”

“She’d obviously love to change that.”

“I’m not responsible for Louise’s agenda, only my own. Now, do I go back to the kitchen and make dinner, or do I take you to bed the way I’ve wanted to since last Sunday?”

Devon’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. “What?”

“You heard me. Which is it?”

“Bed.” The word was out before Devon could censor it. Not that she would have. She wanted Blake as much as he wanted her.

His gaze darkened at her reply, and he leaned forward, yanking her against him. He tilted up her chin and covered her mouth with his in a kiss that blew their last one out of the water.

Sensation roared to life, and Devon gave a soft, shaky moan, wrapping her arms around Blake and throwing herself into the moment. She pressed closer, slanting her lips against his and deepening the kiss.

Blake’s mouth ate at hers, and his hands slid under her bottom, lifting her and fitting the contours of her body to his. She wriggled against him, raising her legs to hug his flanks, whimpering at the friction of his erection rubbing against the sensitive skin between her thighs. Even through their layers of clothes, the sensation was exquisite.

Muttering something hot and unintelligible, Blake backed Devon to the staircase, half walking, half carrying her up to the second floor and around the bend to the master bedroom. She was tugging at his sweater as he crossed the threshold, and he set her on her feet beside the bed, dragging the sweater over his head and flinging it aside. They stared at each other for one burning moment, their breath coming in short, hard pants.

“You’re sure?” he managed in a gravelly tone.

“Very.” Devon tugged off her own sweater, dropping it onto the carpet.

“Let me.” Blake moved closer, unhooking her bra and gliding the straps down her shoulders. Sparks glinted in his eyes, and his hands followed his gaze, molding her breasts in a lingering caress that sent lightning bolts of heat shooting through her.