Misunderstood: In Love with the Nerd (The Miss Series Book 2) (3 page)

“You really are a spoilsport tonight.”  He felt her eyes watching him as he took a long gulp from her glass.  “I thought you had to work in the morning.”

He finished the last drop and placed the glass on the coffee table then picked up the bottle for a refill.  “And I thought so did you.”

“Not until three.  It’s my last shift.”

He frowned then dropped down beside her on the sofa.  “Aren’t you scheduled for the rest of the week?  You are planning on giving them proper notice?”

She bit her lip in a suggestive manner, leaned forward, and said in a husky voice, “Tristan wants me now.”

Daniel repressed the urge to curse and tell her where this Tristan fellow could go.  Instead, he said, “That’s not very considerate.”

She gave a careless shrug.  “I have only to worry about myself.”

“And Tristan Manning.”

Blasted, he didn’t want to get into yet another argument with her, but their topics always seemed to come back to the same thing or person.  He never met Tristan Manning, but he could sincerely state he had a deep aversion to the guy.

“You know Daniel, if you spent less time worrying about me and my proper behavior, you might actually escape having an ulcer and live to be a right jolly old man.”

He stared at her as she concentrated on drinking her wine.  “I suppose I should mind my own business.  But I do like you and hate to see you hurt.”

A smile sprang to her face.  “You are so sweet.  That is exactly why I adore you.”  Lying back down on the plush cushions, she stretched out her bare legs and dropped them over his lap.  “But if you really don’t want to see me hurt, be a sweetheart and rub the pain out of my feet.  Those sandals are torture.”

His eyes dropped to the shapely legs stretched out across his lap.  He did a deliberate scrutiny up the long smooth skin where they disappeared below the thin material of her dress, then slowly made his way down once again.  The mental camera in his brain snapped away at the image.  He was unable to stop the male reaction from stirring beneath his pants.

“Christ, haven’t you ever seen a pair of legs before?”  Her remark woke him from his trance and squelched instantly the desire in his groins.

“Metatarsalgia.”

“Sorry?”

“An acute condition in the metatarsal region of the foot resulting from the continual wearing of high-heels—”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” she groaned, rubbing a hand over her eyes.  “What are you?  A walking encyclopedia?”

“Popular Science subscriber,” he said.  “I read a lot.”

“No kidding.”  Then wiggling her toes, said, “Come on, be a sweetheart, will ya, and help me out?”

His eyes drifted to her face, but her eyes remained shut.  She lay very still except for the occasional sip from her glass.  She most definitely was torture to his male ego, not to mention his male libido.  The desire to push her legs away and tell her to go to hell, was not nearly as great as the desire to reach out and touch her.

Lifting his hands, he cupped her tiny feet between his two large palms and began a soothing massage with the pads of his fingers and thumbs.  Her skin was as soft as he imagined and the mere touch ignited a fiery warmth in the pit of his stomach.

As he needed the satiny flesh between his hands, his breathing slowly began to accelerate while the bridge of his mouth felt suddenly dry.  Sonya gave a faint groan, causing his fingers to plunge deeper into her warm flesh.

Unconsciously, his eyes closed shut and he inhaled the sweet scent of this woman he had hungered for far too long.  He allowed his mind to wander into forbidden territory, envisioning those beautiful legs to lift and wrap themselves around him.  Clutching him near in their embrace.  They would mold themselves to his hips and waist and draw him closer to her soft and supple center.  Between the delicate material of her lace panties he could feel her warm softness rubbing along his body.

He inhaled sharply as he felt the first jolt in his groin.  The fingers needing her feet became more urgent and suddenly had a mind of their own.  They began a slow and daring ascent up her lovely ankles.  Her skin was like nothing he had ever felt before and he couldn’t resist exploring further if he tried.  As his hands sneaked along the inside of her calves, he heard her release a soft moan and was overwhelmed with an urge to seize her in his arms and make love to her right there on the leather sofa.

Sitting as he was, however, was becoming greatly uncomfortable.  He wanted nothing more at that moment than to have this woman straddle his hips and fulfill his male urges.  But just as his fingers crept past the tender spot beneath her knees and began sliding provocatively upward; she broke through his sensual musings.

In fact, it was the sound of her snoring.

His eyes flew open to stare down at a sleeping Sonya.  The empty wineglass next to her on the table.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.  The woman found him so sexually unexciting she actually fell asleep on him.  He might as well face it.  Sonya Elliott felt no desire for him whatsoever.  Lord, he couldn’t even turn her on. 

Feeling utterly stupid, he could only be grateful she had indeed fallen asleep.  Otherwise, he would have to contend with her mocking words when she noticed the obvious desire in his pants.  Lifting her legs, he slid out from under them and inwardly thanked escaping that humiliation.

She groaned and turned to her side, cuddling further into the soft material.  He watched a little longer and wondered what it was about him she found so unattractive.  If she were as promiscuous as she claimed, sleeping with him wouldn’t be such an absurd idea.

He smiled suddenly and reached out to brush a strand of curls from her face.  Even if she didn’t realize it, he knew the answer.  Sonya wasn’t at all what she believed herself to be.

Chapter 3

She was having the most sensual dream.  Tristan was making passionate and thorough love to her.  His lips and hands were everywhere.  Her body arched in desire as his hands roamed and explored the length of her legs.  She moaned his name, needing desperately to feel the taste of his mouth as she clung to his dark head. 

Dark head?

Mozart’s Fortieth Symphony suddenly burst through her dream and started playing in her head.  Over and over again.  Its persistent repetition pierced her dream and burst the intimate image playing provocatively behind her eyelids.  Fluttering her lashes, she focused on the view in front of her and recognized Daniel’s apartment.  Recollection of dozing off to sleep as he massaged her feet came back to mind.

Mozart started up again, drawing Sonya’s attention to her cellular lying on the end table next to the sofa.  Her ringtone was set to the classical piece and the recorded orchestra blasted the small apartment once more causing Sonya to wince.  With a grimace, she reached over and clicked the answer button, shutting off the music before dropping it to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Time to get up.”

“Who’s this?”

A soft chuckle came through the phone line.  “The fellow who owns the sofa you’re sleeping on.”

“Daniel?”  She furrowed her brows.  He sounded different on the phone.  It dawned on her that she rarely spoke to him via the telephone.  Either it was by text or simply in person.  No wonder he sounded funny.  “How did you know I was still here?  And sleeping for that matter?”

Again he chuckled and Sonya was met with the unexpected realization that he sounded unusually sexy over the phone.  If she didn’t already know him, she would have thought he just might be one heck of a catch.  “You’re easier to predict than you realize.  Now get up and get yourself over to your apartment.  You start work in less than an hour.”

She frowned.  That late already?  She craned her neck to look for the time.  “Jeez, Daniel, where do you hide your clocks?”

“It’s half past one.”

Closing her eyes, she gave them a final rub and then sat up.  The soft leather below her exposed thighs rubbed her skin and felt inviting.  “Thanks.”

She hung up, grabbed her discarded sandals on the floor next to her, then dragged her weary limbs across the apartment to her own place.  Just as luck would have it, Mrs. Sterling, their neighbor three doors down, was in the corridor just about to walk her miniature schnauzer.  The elderly woman frowned heavily upon seeing Sonya exit Daniel’s apartment. 

Crossing her arms over her breasts, Sonya arched a brow at the woman and dared her to comment.  The only reply she received was the clicking of Mrs. Sterling’s tongue as she scurried down the hall toward the elevators.

Sonya shook her head in disbelief then went into her own apartment.  The wine the night before and the lack of food must have wiped her out.  She was lucky Daniel called to wake her or she was certain to have slept the day away. 

After placing her sandals in the vacant spot on the shoe rack, she passed through the living area to reach the bathroom, pausing to light an incense candle on her way.  She showered in a hurry then exited the bathroom with her long hair wrapped up in a turban like towel. 

Today was her last shift.  She grimaced slightly at the prospect of having to notify her employer as such, but she was twenty-eight years old and waited long enough for an opportunity like this to come around.  She wouldn’t let some lousy waitress job hold her back.

The apartment smelled of jasmine as she patted across her carpeted living room in her big furry bunny slippers.  Reaching the CD player in the glass cabinet in the corner of the room, she pushed the play button then just as quickly groaned and pared down the volume as an orchestrated symphony bellowed from the speakers.  She rubbed her temples.  That was what she got for drinking the entire bottle.  Not that she was complaining.  She grinned simply remembering her reason for celebrating.

Now, just how long would it take to convince Tristan to let her perform on stage?  A determined smile appeared on her face while Tchaikovsky continued to play on the portable.  Tristan would be hers.  She had no doubt.  It was simply a matter of when.

She pulled her cellular out of her back pocket and dropped down on the elaborate sofa-cover concealing the used couch she picked up at a thrift shop.  With her thumb, she clicked on her phone and skimmed through her list of contacts.  She only had three quarters of an hour before she was expected in to work and had a lot of calls to make.  There was no way she would have turned Tristan’s job offer down, but it did mean she had a lot of pleading and persuading to fill the remaining shifts in her old job.

* * *

Her first two weeks at Tristan’s bar were busy to say the least.  The establishment was a booming place.  The lively atmosphere was magnetic and Sonya fit in well.  Many of the clientele were the touchy kind, which surprised her at first, but she quickly learned to become immune, as they really meant no harm.  It wasn’t uncommon that she or the other waitresses receive five to ten propositions a night.  Majority were in fun, some more serious, but a key component to being a waitress at Tristan’s establishment meant no dating the customers.  However, flirting was perfectly acceptable.  In fact, a requirement.

She met Audrey Cleaveley on her first night.  The petite blonde gave her a tour of the place and a one-hour orientation.  They hit it off well from the start.  Sonya liked her immediately and knew Maura would feel the same.  The three girls met for coffee around noon on a daily basis from that period forward.

Overall, Sonya was quite happy in her new job.  There were only two wretched obstacles in her way.  While she was at the bar, Tristan was forever locked away in his office.  He kept very much to himself.  This just wouldn’t do for her.  She couldn’t very well flirt with the man if he wasn’t around.  Not that she hadn’t tried in the few snippet opportunities she had.

His response was promising.  Any time his eyes strayed in her direction, she was certain to thrust out her chest and arch her spine in what she felt was a very seductive pose.  The smallest trace of pleasure would appear on his lips while his eyes very evidently bore through her tight blouses.  She was getting to him.  She was certain of it.  All she needed now was much more of that attention and time.

The only other disturbing detail sitting heavily on her mind was performing.  She desperately wanted to be up there on stage night after night.  Her heart ached of jealousy as she watched and listened to the house band perform.  They were good, she conceded, but she knew she could wow the crowd if only given the chance.

It was Friday night and the crowd was the usual patrons.  They were a hard drinking group and she was kept on her feet all night long.  By the time her shift ended at one o’clock, her legs were aching, her bottom was throbbing from all the pinching she received, and she thought she lost most of the hearing out of her left ear since she spent the majority of the night at table sixteen.

Table sixteen was situated right in front of the band’s woofer system.  All six seats were occupied with a group of men out celebrating a friend’s bachelor party.  To say the least the group was completely intoxicated by the end of the night and it was Sonya’s duty to ensure a taxi was called to pick them all up.  She pitied the poor woman who would call that oaf a husband.

“Hey!”  Sonya called out to the staff getting ready to close up.  “Party at my place.”

As they all nodded their heads in consent and the announcement was spread throughout the remaining crew, Sonya turned to Audrey.  “Go on ahead without me.”

The younger girl’s brows dipped.  “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”  Sonya acted nonchalant.  “I’m just going to go and invite Tristan.”

“Oh.”  The other girl’s smile dimmed.

Sonya headed toward the door behind the bar.  He answered her knock after one tap.  Sticking her head around the door she displayed her brightest smile.  He sat at his desk doing the evening’s bookkeeping but his head came up upon her entrance.  Lying down his pen he returned her smile.

“Come in Tonya.” 

Her foot faltered as she took a step inside the room.  “Sonya.”

He grimaced and made an apologetic face.  “Right, right.  What can I do for you?”  Leaning back in his chair, his eyes automatically dropped to her blouse.

Sonya straightened the hem of the shirt to emphasize the breasts under them.  “I just popped in to say goodnight and to invite you back to my place.”

His brow arched.  “Oh really?”

“Uh-huh.” She gave him a sexy grin.  “Actually, I’m inviting everyone.”

The brow lifted with even more interest.  “How kinky.”

She chuckled softly.  “Mmm, well yes, I thought it would be fun.”

He grinned then sat up straight in his chair.  “I’ve got a lot of work here, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Great.”  She feasted on his ample good looks before turning to go.

“Bye the way.”  He stopped her.  “Nice shirt.”

She grinned to herself but continued on her way without turning around.

The party was already well under way when she arrived at her apartment thanks to Audrey who let everyone in.  Maura and her boyfriend, Patrick Hunter, arrived shortly before her. 

She couldn’t see what Maura saw in Patrick Hunter.  He was a clean-cut accountant who could bore the party to distraction if allowed.  She was reminded of the math nerd in high school who wanted to hang out with the popular crowd.  Everyone had one.  Hers just happened to be dating her best friend.

She supposed he was better than the previous guy.  Now there was a complete jerk.  He believed his fists were the symbol of his machismo.  If it hadn’t been for Daniel, Sonya was certain she would have ended up on the receiving end of those knuckles herself when the three of them got into a heated argument and Sonya called him every scum name she could conceive.  Their loud voices alerted Daniel and he had come over to investigate.  Just in the nick of time.

Not that Sonya was frightened of the lowlife; he deserved every name she lashed out at him.  But, considering he was also heavily intoxicated she knew she was pushing her luck.  It was the first and only time Sonya had ever seen Daniel strike someone.  As a matter-of-fact, she was quite impressed.  He took out the guy in one blow.

Her mind idly wandered to Daniel’s apartment and what he was doing.  Probably sleeping, you nitwit, she scolded herself.  It was, after all, close to three in the morning.

“Hey, Sonya, where do you keep the ice?” One of the bartenders shouted out over the loud music, evidently preparing to play the role here as well.

She shook her head since she figured her words would only be drowned out from the stereo, then turned to Audrey who was closest to the door.  “Can you run across the hall to my neighbor’s place?  He’ll have a bag of ice we can use.”

“Won’t he be sleeping?”

She shrugged.  “Oh, he won’t mind.”

* * *

Daniel lay staring up at the ceiling in his apartment.  He was sleeping peacefully until about a half an hour ago.  It was obvious Sonya was having one of her parties again.  He was surprised she was never considerate of her neighbors.  They were on the tenth floor of a fifteen-story building.  He was certain she had her fair share of complaints by now.  He even idly thought about adding his own to the list.

There came a tapping on his apartment door.  His first thought was of annoyance, his second, that she was being unusually quiet.  This last abstract thought had him tossing back the sheets and heading toward the front entrance bare-chested and bare foot, instead of ignoring her and letting her believe him sound asleep.  When he opened the door he was startled to see a petite blonde standing on his threshold.

“Can I help you?”

She looked up at him with the most apologetic blue eyes.  “I’m sorry, but Sonya sent me over.  She said you would have some ice we can borrow.”

He nodded his head in understanding.  Figured she had something to do with it.  “Come on in.”

As she gave a skeptical step after him, she asked, “Did I wake you?”

“No.”  He assured her.  “Sonya did.”

She giggled and he tossed a return grin over his shoulder. 

“Are you and her. . .?”

“Sonya?”  His voice held a disbelieving note then more soberly answered, “No.”

As he held the bag of ice out to the girl, she looked pleased, not hurrying to remove the bag from his hands.  “Good.”

He felt a sudden rush of discomfort.  He was not used to flirting.  Was this girl flirting with him?  “Did you know that a person spontaneously burns calories when consuming a glass of ice water?”

“Um, I think I heard something about that.  Isn’t that some new fad diet?”

“In physics it’s referred to as thermodynamics.”

“Huh?”

“When two sources of different temperatures are in contact, energy passes between them until an equilibrium is obtained.  Therefore, when a person consumes a glass of ice water the body immediately begins to burn calories in order to raise the temperature of the ice water to match the body’s temperature.  One calorie will raise one gram of ice water up one degree Celsius.”  He paused.  “So in actual fact, you only burn about 17 Calories per glass.  But over a long period of time, one can lose several pounds.”