A/N
Ok so this story douse not belong to me I was reading a book and thought it would be funny if it was a story about the h2o characters but throughout the story there is obviously no mention of mermaids like I said the story douse not belong to me and the characters don't either I decided to use Rikki and Zane for this story whenever you see leslie Kelly or slow hands and a number that's just the name of the author and page number
. 9
OVER THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS, Rikki remembered what it was
like to be a woman. A sensual—sexual—woman. Rather than a
bank drone, a dutiful daughter, a supportive sister.
She and Zane had spent the entire weekend together, staying
out on the boat Saturday night rather than coming in to shore.
Whatever his obligations were, he'd at least had Saturday and
Sunday free. They'd sailed and laughed, talked and made exquisite
love. But on Monday, he'd disappeared again, saying he'd
be busy for the next two days—another forty-eight hour commitment—
and promised to see her in a few days.
She'd forced herself not to think about where he was, who
he was with and what he was doing. Zane had given his word
that he'd have no sexual contact with anyone else, but that
didn't mean he wasn't seeing anyone else. Professionally. Or
personally.
Lord, she hadn't even asked him if he was involved in any
kind of relationship. She'd focused solely on his, um, job.
Let it go, she'd reminded herself many times. No way would
he have agreed to the terms if he was seriously involved with
another woman. Besides, there was nothing she could do,
anyway. She simply had to trust him.
Honestly, she did. The man had taken her check, which had
both relieved her and broken her heart a little. Mainly, though,
it had been a relief, because it had sealed their bargain. While
138 Slow Hands
trusting any man was not easy for her, especially after Oliver,
Rikki did have confidence in her business judgment.
He'd stick to his end of the deal. She knew it.
And that's how she managed to get through the forty-eight
hours without driving herself crazy wondering if he was on the
arm of some rich old hag like Bitsy Wellington, explaining that
he couldn't provide any more intimate services.
Fortunately, all those worries had disappeared on Wednesday
night. He'd shown up at her door with a new-release DVD, a big
bag filled with popcorn, Lemonheads, Gummi Bears and other
movie-theater type candy, and informed her they were having a
movie date.
Since she'd answered the door in nothing but an emeraldgreen
teddy, however, he'd decided the date could wait.
They'd made love right on the living room floor and they'd
been wild, rolling helplessly across the carpet, absolutely ravenous
for one another. Rikki had, as usual, been surprised by
both his patience and his stamina, not sure where the man got
his strength. Eventually they'd ended up right in front of the
windows overlooking the twinkling lights of the city.
He'd taken her from behind, the two of them kneeling in
front of all that glass and all those stars, an enormous orange
moon hanging like a paper cutout right above them.
Talk about wanting to howl at the night like a wild, untamed
creature. When she saw the handprints all over the windows
the next day, she'd decided untamed had been a very good description.
There'd been two full nights of laughter and whispered conversation
and sexual bliss, then another two nights of secretive
silence. Until now. It was Sunday again, and she was driving to
meet him at a local restaurant.
He'd offered to come over. But they'd both known from the
other night that if she allowed that, they wouldn't eat anything
Leslie Kelly 139
until morning. Well, except each other, that is. And frankly,
while that thought was incredibly appealing, she was starving
for real food and her kitchen was, as usual, pretty empty.
Besides, they had all night. For now, she just wanted to enjoy
his company, in public, as if they were any other couple.
You're not.
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered to the skeptical voice in her head
as she entered the restaurant promptly at seven o'clock, her gaze
traveling the crowded establishment in search of his familiar
broad shoulders and short, thick hair.
"What?"
She hadn't even realized he'd been standing in the vestibule
until he'd stepped beside her and touched her arm.
"Hi."
"Hi yourself." Despite the crowd, he bent and brushed a gentle
kiss across her lips. When it ended, instead of pulling away, he
brushed his nose against hers in a sweet, tender gesture—an
Eskimo kiss, she remembered from her childhood, having dim
memories of sharing them with her mother. She melted a little
on the spot.
"Shall we get a table?"
"Absolutely! I'm famished."
"That mean you're not having a salad?"
Rikki elbowed him in the ribs as they approached the hostess
station to request a table. Before they reached it, however,
Zane's cell phone rang. "I'll turn it off," he muttered, "I'm not
on call tonight…."
Rikkiput her hand up to stop him from saying anything further.
She did not want to know about his "on call" time. "It's okay."
"Uh-oh," he said, reading the number. "I probably should
take this."
Rikki smiled at the hostess, requesting a table for two while
Zane stepped to the corner to take the call. Trying not to listen,
140 Slow Hands
she couldn't help overhearing a few snippets of the conversation.
Words like "sweetie" and "honey, it'll be okay, you know I'm
here for you," making her ears perk up as if she were James
Bond's partner in spying.
The words were bad enough. The soft, gentle tone, however,
truly bothered her. She did not like to think of him using that
voice with any other woman. And she had no doubt it was
another woman he was talking to.
"You know, why don't you give that table to someone else?"
she told the hostess, her back stiffening. She'd lost her appetite.
"That's a good idea," Zane said, snapping his phone closed and
giving her a grateful look as he returned to her side.
Huh. She wondered how grateful he'd be if she took the phone
from his fingers and pitched it into the restaurant's tropical fish tank.
"We've got to go."
"We?" Her brow arching, she added, "Are you sure you don't
need to go alone? I'm quite capable of seeing myself home—I
have my own car."
He shook his head, taking her arm to lead her outside. "No,
I'm not letting you get away, I've been looking forward to this
date since I left your place Friday morning." He opened the door
for her, waited while she exited, and followed her out into the
night. "It shouldn't take long." Frowning, he added, "I hope."
"Look, Zane, I know this is just business and everything, but
if you have to go deal with one of your other…clients…I'd
really prefer not to go along for the ride. I'm not the type of
woman who'll wait in the car while you dash inside and explain
to Mrs. Robinson that you can't be at her beck and call tonight."
He froze, his jaw dropping open. Which was when she
realized she'd made a big mistake. "I thought…I mean…"
"You honestly thought I was going to take you along while I
went to meet a client."
"You were so tender on the phone, I assumed…"
Leslie Kelly 141
"It was my baby sister, Jenny. She just had a big fight with
her boyfriend. He drove away and stranded her down at the
Navy Pier. She was bawling her eyes out and asked me to come
get her and take her back to her dorm."
Zane shook his head, disappointment so clear in his expression
she could almost feel it washing over her. "I'm so sorry. I can be
such a bitch." She swallowed and stepped toward her own car.
"Why don't I go home and you can call me later…if youwant to."
Grabbing her arm, Zane stopped her, stepping in close and
cupping her face in his hand. He pressed a quick, hard kiss on her
lips. "Shut up. Just drive me 's not big enough, and
you, at least, have that little 'll take care of Jenny, then
go back to your place." His eyes narrowed and he kissed her again,
licking roughly at her tongue, then muttering against her lips,
"And I'll pay you back for your lack of faith in me."
So relieved that she hadn't ruined their evening completely,
she smiled tremulously. They got in the car, Rikki behind the
wheel, as she started the engine and backed out of the parking
lot. Before they'd even reached the street, her good mood had
returned. "How are you going to pay me back?"
"I'm going to torture you," he replied, his tone bored, his attention
out the window.
"Torture?"
He finally looked over, his eyes shimmering in the light
thrown off the car's dashboard. "I know it drives you crazy when
I go slow. Well, tonight, I'm going so slow you'll think I'm
moving backward."
Her thighs quivered. "Monster."
"Yeah. That's me." He dropped a hand on her thigh. "Drive
quick, okay? She sounded pretty upset."
"You said this is the youngest one? How old is she?"
"Twenty. There's an eight-year gap between her and me. My
older sisters and I call her the accident."
142 Slow Hands
Hmm…that made him twenty-eight. Just her age.
"Funny that she called you, rather than one of your sisters,"
she mused. Whenever Tabitha had a breakup, she always showed
up at Rikki's place with a bottle of tequila and a thousand
dollars' worth of cosmetics from Sephora, for the "girl's night"
she needed to get over it.
"She's embarrassed. My sisters can't stand the guy she's been
dating and they'll say 'I told you so.'And my parents would hold
it against him, if and when they do get back together. Which,
knowing Jenny, will probably be soon."
Her father was exactly the same way. The one time they'd run
into Oliver after he'd done Rikki so wrong, her dad had called
him a scum-sucking, lowlife, bootlicking coward. For starters.
Rikki had stopped his tirade. Eventually.
"But you like the guy?"
"Hell, no. He's a lazy punk and I can't stand him."
"Then why did she call you?"
"Because she doesn't know I can't stand him. I know how to
keep my mouth shut and mind my own business."
"Unlike your sisters—women—is that what you mean?" she
asked, not really offended but enjoying putting him on the spot.
Not that he ever stayed there for long.
"Your words. Not mine. Speaking of which—I don't have to
ask you to keep the details of our, uh, arrangement, private, do
I? My family doesn't know about…"
"Enough said." She wasn't bothered by the question. Of
course, he had to be sure. Besides, he didn't sound as though he
was truly worried she'd out him as a hooker to his kid sister. "I'm
just your dinner date." The words provided her a good opening
to do a little sneaky prying, and she wasn't about to let it go.
"They won't think it's strange, uh, you being with me? I mean,
you don't have anyone they usually see you with?"
He saw right through her. As usual. Laughing softly and
Leslie Kelly 143
tucking her hair behind one ear, he murmured, "I haven't been
involved with anyone for a long time."
Why it so relieved her that he hadn't had a girlfriend, she
didn't want to think about.
"And Rikki? You're more than just my dinner date," he
whispered. "Much more."
Keeping her eyes on the road, Rikki couldn't help smiling
a tiny bit, if only on the inside.
Because Zane was already ever-so-much-more to her, too.
"WHY ARE GUYS such assholes?"
"Like I've always said, babe. A.M.A.S.," Zane replied. "All
Men Are Scum."
"You're not!" Jenny scooted up from the tiny backseat, her
elbows on her knees as she leaned between him and Rikki.
"He's not, right?"
"Definitely not," Rikki replied, entering the conversation for
the first time.
Not that she could have gotten a word in before now. They'd
picked up Jenny ten minutes ago. From the moment she'd gotten
into the car, she'd been crying and blowing her nose into a Taco
Bell napkin she dug out of her purse. Then babbling and raging,
explaining the fight—something about a girl named Liz and a
party and a kiss—and generally acting like the high-strung
twenty-year-old she was.
Rikki had remained quiet, driving, making occasional commiserating
noises and frowning in sympathy with the slightly
hysterical young woman she'd never laid eyes on before. She was
calm and reasonable, totally in control, as always, but warm, too.
Well, almost always in control. He'd definitely made her lose
it on a few occasions. And he could hardly wait to do so again.
"Who are you, anyway?" Jenny asked, finally distracted from
her tale of woe. "Is this your car? It's wicked sweet. Zane, is she
144 Slow Hands
your girlfriend? How long have you been together?" She sighed
deeply, the melodrama oozing out. "Oh, God, I interrupted your
date, didn't I? Why is he such an asshole?"
She threw herself back into her seat.
"This is Rikki Chadwick…I introduced you when you got in,
remember?" Zane asked, unable to hide his amusement.
Jenny just sniffed. "Sorry. Wasn't listening."
"No kidding."
"It's all right," Rikki said. "I'm glad to meet you, but I'm
very sorry it's under these circumstances."
"Men suck."
"They certainly do." Rikki cast him a quick, apologetic
glance and clarified. "Some of them."
"Not Zane, I know," said his baby sister. "He's a doll. I think
it's having sisters. Inmyopinion, everywoman should end up with
a man who had sisters. They drain all the assholeness out of him
while he's growing up and make him learn to treat awoman right."
Rikki chuckled. "There's no denying your brother is a perfect
gentleman." Pursing her lips, she added, "And you know,
come to think of it, my ex was an only child."
"You see?" Jenny exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.
"So is Toby."
Toby being he of the great assholeness.
But Zane was more interested in hearing about Rikki's ex.
This was the first time she'd mentioned him, though he'd
strongly suspected the guy's actions left some major damage.
Had he been a lover? Fiancé? He couldn't even contemplate
the idea that someone else might have actually put a wedding
ring on her beautiful finger and then let her get away.
Jenny was fine, already showing more interest in the car than
in the boyfriend who would be texting her and asking for forgiveness
within a few hours, he was quite sure. He wanted to
know more about Rikki. "So, tell me more about this ex."
Leslie Kelly 145
"Oh-ho, haven't gotten that far in the relationship, huh? Just
sex talk, no ex-talk?"
"It's been a long time since I've threatened your life," Zane
said, not even turning around to glare at his sister. His words were
menacing enough. "Now be quiet or I'll call Heather and Blair
and sic them on you tonight."
Jenny stiffened, definitely fearing the combined threat of
their two older sisters, complete busybodies, both of them.
"Sorry. Go ahead, Rikki."
"Go ahead with what?" she asked, obviously distracted by the
sibling bickering. With only one sister—and a snooty, pretentious,
pushy one at that, judging by what he'd heard about her—
Zane doubted Rikki had much experience with the playfully
cutthroat world of sibling disputes.
"The ex. What was he, a cheat?" Jenny asked.
Zane didn't scold her, because that was exactly the question
he wanted to ask, but hadn't dared to.
Rikki sighed softly. "Oh, yes. Oliver was most definitely a
cheat."
Jenny gasped. "Oh, God, did he cheat on you with a dude?"
That startled a shocked laugh out of their driver. "No, why
on earth would you ask that?"
"Well, come on, I mean, Oliver? Only a parent who's just
begging for a gay son would come up with that name!"
Zane snorted, quickly hiding his laughter when Rikki swept
a sidelong glance his way. Her tiny frown told him she'd seen
his amusement.
"Well, as far as I know, he confined his cheating to snow
bunnies and cocktail waitresses."
"But you're so hot. Why would any guy do that?"
Rikki shifted in her seat, as always, not accepting that she
was a beautiful, desirable woman. "He liked tall, rail-thin,
leggy blondes."
146 Slow Hands
"Then it sounds to me like he should have been with an albino
greyhound," Zane snapped, completely despising the unknown
Oliver. "Because he's only fit to be with his own kind…dogs."
"I totally agree. You are so much better than that," Jenny said,
whether out of loyalty to Rikki because she was with Zane, or
because she liked her—or her car—or simply out of a go-girlall-
men-suck attitude.
Maybe all of the above.
"I think it was a combination of immaturity, selfishness and
greed," Rikki admitted, her voice low, almost as if she was
speaking to herself. "I am sure he liked my connections and my
family money more than me."
"She's rich?" Jenny piped in.
"Shut up, Jen."
His sister shut up.
"But hewas a spoiled rich kid who took what hewanted when
he wanted it. While he very briefly thought he wanted me, he obviously
changed his mind andmoved on…without clueing me in."
"How'd you find out?"
Zane hadn't asked, Jenny had. Again he did not tell her to shut
up, because he wanted to know the answer. He couldn't possibly
have asked—he was too busy keeping his jaw clamped shut and
his body tightly pressed against the passenger seat, so damned
furious at the lousy prick who'd hurt Rikki he couldn't even
speak.
Rikki glanced into the rearview mirror, seeming to meet his
sister's eyes. "He went on a ski trip and I decided to 'surprise'
him by coming up to join him. He was surprised all right."
"Eww! Did you walk in when they were…"
"Jenny," Zane snapped, "that's a little too personal."
"Sorry. Man, I'm ready to run out of hope altogether. If it can
happen to you, it can totally happen to anyone."
The Rikki he'd met a few weeks ago—the hard, brittle
Leslie Kelly 147
one—probably would have nodded in agreement. The cool
woman he'd walked with to the park, who'd slammed the very
idea of lasting love as being a fantasy might have warned his
baby sister about being cautious, staying slightly separate from
anyone to avoid getting hurt.
Instead, she surprised him. "You know, looking back, it was
just as well. He definitely wasn't the man for me."
Ah, progress. At least she was conceding there might exist
such a creature—a man for her.
"And I know it wasn't my fault and that not every man would
behave that way. It was his own weakness of character."
"Well, duh!"
"So I've finally come to the point where I can let it go and
forget about him." Then, grunting she added, "Which is fine,
except for the fact that he is still in my social circle, and I do see
him once in a while."
"Is he going to be at the wedding?" Zane asked, already relishing
the prospect.
"God, I should hope not. My father would lose his mind. I
think he was more furious about what Oliver did than I was. And
if Dad didn't clean the floor with him, Tabitha would eviscerate
him with a salad fork." Glancing again at Jenny in the mirror,
she explained, "My older sister is getting married on Saturday
and Zane is escorting me."
"You an escort to a rich wedding, huh?" Jenny snorted, opening
her mouth to say something else.
Fearing it might be something along the lines of, "What are you
going to wear, your paramedic uniform?" he quickly interrupted.
"Maybe Rikki will return the favor and come with me to Blair's."
"Ugh. Don't remind me. Have you seen the bridesmaid dresses
she finally decided on?" Sticking her index finger into her mouth
and making retching noises, the twenty-year-old made her opinion
of them clear. Then she asked Rikki, "Are you a bridesmaid?"
148 Slow Hands
"Yes."
"Did your sister pick out the monkey-butt-ugliest dresses in
the store? Talk about hideous—ruffled and frilly baby's-asspeach
things. They look more like something I would have worn
to my third birthday party."
Soft, lyrical laughter spilled from Rikki's mouth. "No,
actually the dress I'm wearing is beautiful…for someone built
like Tabby."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I'm going to have to duct tape myself to fit into it
and to hold it up. I haven't worn a strapless, backless dress since
I reached puberty."
"That sister of yours…" Zane muttered.
"Hey, it's her wedding," Rikki said with a shrug. "I honestly
don't care, and it is a very pretty dress. I'll just try not to breathe.
And I definitely won't be bending over. It's far too revealing for
someone with my, um, figure."
Hmm…he could hardly wait to see it. What might be demure
on one of those stick-thin, leggy blondes her ex had so desired
would be downright sinful on a woman like Rikki. How any
man could have preferred anyone else when he'd had this woman
in his life, he simply had no idea.
Men who cheated pissed him off as a matter of principle. But
one who'd cheated on her? Well, this sonofabitch Oliver was just
lucky he wasn't coming to the wedding.
"I bet you'll look totally wicked," Jenny said. "While I'm
going to look like Dora the Explorer in her party dress."
"Totally wicked," Zane murmured, already smiling at the
thought.
"No comments, you."
In the backseat, Jenny stopped talking, and began to avidly
stare down at the cell phone in her hand. The texting must have
commenced. Knowing his sister was fully occupied now, Zane
Leslie Kelly 149
still kept his voice low. "I'll be happy to keep an eye on you,
make sure everything stays in place."
"Mmm, hmm," Rikki said, sotto voce, watching his sister
in the backseat.
"She wouldn't notice if a tidal wave came off the lake unless
it filled the car and took that stupid phone out of her hands."
"Then I guess you'd better tell me where I'm going," Rikki
murmured, nodding toward the sign as they entered the campus
of the university Jenny attended. "Which one is her dorm?"
Zane pointed to a nearby building, and by the time they'd
parked outside it, Jenny had a big grin on her face. Whatever
Toby-the-asshole had said in his text messages had obviously
mollified her. She'd forgiven him.
Until next week.
They got out to say goodbye to his little sister, who gave both
of them enthusiastic bear hugs for coming to her rescue. Rikki,
who didn't seem the type to appreciate being hugged by a
complete stranger, still had a smile on her face as they got back
in the car to leave.
"I like her."
"She liked you, too."
"I don't ever remember being that young and energetic."
"I disagree. You seemed like an energetic powerhouse the
other night. And that day on the boat. And the night of the
baseball game…"
Rikki, who hadn't seemed to be the type to even know what
teasing was a few weeks ago, gave it right back to him. "Well, I
fear my batteries might have run completely dry. It's going to
take something pretty spectacular to charge them again."
He was up for the job. "Good. Then let's head back to your
place and I'll do everything I can to…spark a charge."
"Are you saying you want to plug something in?"
Zane barked a quick laugh. "You do know you're teasing me,
150 Slow Hands
right? That this is called banter. You're flirting with me and
you're not talking in that snooty voice you used to use. And thank
God you're not or calling me porcine for fantasizing about you
in that bridesmaid dress."
She didn't respond at first, merely appearing to think about
his words. He wondered if he should have said anything at all.
The changes coming over Rikki were visible to him—maybe
they hadn't been to her.
Maybe she hadn't yet acknowledged, even in her own mind,
that she was opening up to him. Trusting him. Letting down her
guard and being the woman he'd sensed was there, beneath the
surface, all along.
From her warmth toward his sister, her men-suck commiseration,
her bridesmaid talk, her openness about her bad breakup,
hell, even accepting a hug without the slightest wince, Rikki
was as unlike the woman he'd spoken with in her office that day
as he was unlike…well, the gigolo she'd taken him for.
Maybe it's time to end this. It was definitely something to
consider.
"I suppose I should thank you," she said softly. "I've been
pretty cold and hard since the…incident…with Oliver." Nibbling
lightly on her bottom lip, she added, "I wasn't always the ice
queen."
Zane reached over and touched her cheek, lightly, briefly.
"You were never really the ice queen."
Rikki nodded, still pensive, serious. Maybe even thinking
some of the same things he'd been thinking. If she continued to
think that way, she might very well be ready to hear what it was
he had to tell her.
Soon. Hopefully very soon.
"You know…" he said, changing the subject to the other one
that was foremost on his mind. "Thinking of you in that bridesmaid
dress you were talking about has suddenly got me anxious
Leslie Kelly 151
for a preview. Let's go back to your place so you can model it
for me." He made no attempt to disguise his wolfish tone or true,
lustful intentions.
"What about dinner?"
Zane merely leaned back in the seat, stretching his long legs
out as far as he could in the small car. "I suddenly prefer to dine
in. Do you have anything…appetizing at your place?"
"Are we bantering again?"
"I think we are. Bantering, flirting, exchanging innuendo."
"Well then." She appeared to think about it, tapping the tip
of her finger on her cheek. "Hmm. I believe there are still a few
Lemonheads and some popcorn…"
"Or?"
"Or you could just dine on me."
Exactly the kind of dinner he had in mind.
"But first, we've got to clear something up, mister. You
haven't cashed that check I gave you." She sounded accusing.
"You peeking in my wallet again?"
"I do manage a bank, you know."
Oh. Right.
"You'd better not even be thinking of trying to tear it up or
hand it back to me at the end of our thirty days."
"Rikki, come on, I don't need your money."
"Tough," she snapped. "We had a deal, so you cash it. Do
whatever you want with the money, invest it, pay Jenny's tuition,
give it to charity for all I care. But fair's fair." Her lips curved
up the tiniest bit. "I'm not a welsher."
Ah, now he understood the amusement. He'd used the exact
terms when seeking her out at the bank.
"You'll do it?"
He should have expected this, he really should have. If Rikki
was genuinely changing, letting her heart open up, she had to be
scared to death. The first thing she'd do is try to get things back
152 Slow Hands
under control, protect herself, just in case. Personally, he believed
they'd gone too far for her to do it—that genie was out of the
bottle. She could not stop smiling at him, exchanging warm
looks and sexy conversations any more than he could.
But she could remind them both of why they'd gotten into
this. And that was exactly what she was doing.
"Zane?"
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered.
"You promise?"
"All right, yes, I promise," he agreed, knowing that no, he
could not tell her the truth yet. Not while she still felt the need
to make sure she had an easy way out at the end of their month
together, just in case.
Besides, she'd certainly made no comments about them
sticking together beyond that. She hadn't verbally expressed
any genuine feelings for him at all. Which meant she might not
quite be ready to continue what they were doing without the
stupid "arrangement" giving her the protection something deep
in her psyche required her to have.
It appeared that while it might be good for the soul, confession
might not yet be good for his relationship with the woman
he was falling in love with.
So his mouthwould stay shut. Even if his heartwas wide-open.