Page 17

Then she glanced over in my direction and I ducked my head farther down, so that only my eyes were above windowsill level—​successfully hidden in the dark and behind my Christmas poinsettia.

Nisa looked away from my house without reaction, and in the split second that my heart sank at her lack of response, she did a double take, staring over at where my inflatable Santa, twin to hers, bobbed happily in the light winter wind.

Her face turned to stone and I lip-​read an expletive that would have had old Mrs. Henderson clutching at her pearls and made me feel a bit less guilty about how tired she’d appeared prior to the look of thunder she now sported on her face.

I held my breath as I awaited her next move.

Nisa shoved her bag back into her car, slammed the door shut, and began marching in my direction.

“Shite,” I muttered, ducking down and literally commando crawling across my living room floor to make it to the hallway without her spying me through the window on her approach.

I’d just made it into the hallway and clambered to my feet when the doorbell rang, followed immediately by a second, and then a third ring by the time I reached the door. I grasped the handle and painted a neutral expression on my face as I pulled it open.

A wisp of citrusy floral scent danced briefly with my senses but wafted away as quickly as it came, before I had the chance to fully register it. My eyes settled on her—​the shiny dark mane of her hair studded with tiny jewels of snow, which I just realized had begun to fall. Her face was like stone, but her almond-​shaped eyes were fierce and alive.

“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” she asked, piercing me with her feisty, dark stare.

I folded my arms and leaned against the doorway, feigning nonchalance. “Whatever do you mean?”

She stepped toward me, but I held my ground. “Don’t play dumb with me again, Kerr. The excuse that having the same lights as mine was a coincidence won’t wash with the Santas. You absolutely knew I had one of those before you went out to purchase the same one.”

I shrugged, lifting a hand to pluck imaginary lint from my sweater and feeling impressed with my own performance. “I must have forgotten that you had one. They were on sale at the garden center so I thought I might as well pick one up.” I lifted my gaze back to meet hers, the connection of our eyes sending a bolt of awareness up my spine and a humming sensation through my bloodstream. “Anyway,” I continued. “You’ve some nerve to complain about it, when you copied my reindeer. Bit of a hypocrite, aren’t you, Ms. NCA?” Oh, I was on a roll now.

Her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. “What have my initials got to do with it?” Her frown deepened. “And how do you know my middle initial?”

I waved a hand. I probably shouldn’t have been saying any of this, but I was too caught up in the moment. As I said, this woman brought out the worst in me. “I mean NCA as in National Crime Agency. You like to come over here flinging accusations at me, don’t you? But half the time you’ve nothing to back it up and the other half you’re being a hypocrite.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but then closed it again as she no doubt realized that she didn’t have a leg to stand on where the reindeer were concerned. “That was different,” she said, her voice uncertain.

“Oh?” I said, raising my eyebrows. “In what way?”

Determination crept back into her posture, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders. “The reindeer was just me getting my own back for you copying my lights. Then we were even. So now you doing this”—​she threw a hand behind her, gesturing toward my Santa—“makes things uneven again. You’ve got one up on me.” She stepped even closer, her soft scent this time fully infiltrating the air around me, and as I drew it deep into my lungs, something heavy and aching began to throb under my skin. Something that broke my dream from the previous night and sent forgotten, sleep-​clouded images crashing into my mind’s eye.

Nisa, pinned under my body in my bed, her scent surrounding me, her soft body warm against the hard planes of mine as she moaned my name.

Holy shit.

No wonder I hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night.

I froze, my entire bloodstream turned to ice. The reason I’d had a restless night was because I’d been having sex dreams about Nisa.

A triumphant expression had appeared on her face as she no doubt took my startled response to mean that she had won the argument. She pointed her finger at me, and God help me, even that turned me on. “This means war, Kerr Murdoch. You mark my words.”

She turned to walk away as I struggled to regain my composure after my brain had begun to implode. “Oh yeah?” I called out ineffectually.

“Yeah!” she yelled over her shoulder as she crossed the street.

Flustered, and before I could kick-​start my stuttering mind, I called out, “Give my regards to Stumpy!” Then I instantly regretted it because that was not okay.

Nisa gave me the finger over her shoulder and carried on walking. I winced at my own actions.

Realizing that I’d better retreat before I said anything else foolish and uncalled-​for, or had any other sexual revelations from the depths of my memories, I closed the door and leaned my arm against it, nestling my face in the crook of my elbow as I attempted to recover from the encounter with my neighbor.

Holy crap. Greg had been right. I had a thing for Nisa Ansari and my subconscious had known it all along, even if I hadn’t.

9

Nisa