Degrees of Passion Read online

  ‘Whatever’s fine,’ Jason said.

  ‘I’ll come along to help you carry—’ Kevin began, only to get interrupted by Prichard.

  ‘She’ll be fine. I need you to help open our first crate.’

  ‘And you?’ Sasha asked, holding her pen at the ready. She stared at him, as if blaming him for her current situation.

  Kevin balled his hand in irritation. It wasn’t his fault she came unprepared, not even caring enough to know what she was going to be doing here. If she didn’t take her work seriously, why should he feel guilty for it? ‘Large coffee, one cream, two sugars, and a cinnamon roll with glaze not cake icing.’

  Her scowl burned hot but she wrote down what he said. Without saying a word, she stormed from the room.

  ‘That pompous, arrogant, scum-sucking, know-it-all, stupid, fucking . . .’ Sasha paused in her tirade, searching for the next insult as she continued to march through the snow to the end of the block. Her words were punctuated by white puffs of breath. Not seeing the bakery, she realized it must be in the other direction and she turned around. ‘Stupid, arrogant, pain-in-the – argh!’

  How dare Kevin do that do her? So what if she didn’t have the exact date readily memorized? She’d been in the right general area. There was no reason for him to go all know-it-all on them and give more than the doctor asked for. She hated guys like that with their . . .

  ‘Their, um, brains and smug faces and their piercing eyes and cute, knowing smiles,’ she ranted. Finding the bakery on the corner, she pushed at the glass door. Inside, the tables were empty, but a long line of businessmen stretched out from the register along the glass counter. Workers filled orders, shoving pastries into small white paper bags and handing out coffee like the bitter brown liquid was the elixir of youth.

  The line moved quickly and Sasha stared at the paper in her hand. When the young woman came to take her order, she got herself a coffee before reading the list. She stopped when she got to the cinnamon roll. Glancing up, she said, ‘Do you have a day-old section?’

  ‘It’s not any cheaper and we have everything we need right here, baked fresh,’ the woman said, her smile more of an afterthought.

  ‘Well,’ Sasha drawled slowly, ‘I don’t want a fresh cinnamon roll. In fact, I want the oldest, rock-hardest cinnamon roll you have and I want you to smother it with thick cake icing.’

  The woman shrugged, going to get the order ready. Sasha found herself grinning, feeling a little better. It didn’t last long. The woman came back and placed a large bag and cup holder on the counter. Sasha pulled cash out of her messenger bag, knowing she wouldn’t get paid back for the food run.

  Anger kept her warm as she marched back to the Project Aztec building. By the time she arrived, she managed to get it under control. Not daring to bring food into the lab and risk upsetting the insufferable Dr Prichard, she set it in the small area marked as the break room. As she walked out into the hall, she stopped, seeing Kevin.

  ‘You’re back,’ he said.

  ‘Yep.’ She nodded, planning on giving him the cold shoulder. ‘Everything’s on the table. Help yourself.’

  Kevin grabbed her arm as she tried to walk past. Warmth soaked through her chilled coat. Electric heat seemed to form where he touched her, or perhaps it was only the shaking reaction she had to his nearness. She wasn’t prepared for the sudden rush of desire. The subtle smell of his cologne mingled with the scent of soap. Lip balm covered his lips, coating them with a light glossy sheen that drew her notice. Sasha became aware of how dry her mouth felt and she unconsciously licked her lips.

  Sexy brown eyes darted down to watch the sweep of her tongue and she heard his breath catch. The hallway suddenly felt a little too narrow. He was too close. The heat of his hand became too intimate even with clothing protecting her flesh. Torrid thoughts ran circles in her mind, urging her to act on primal instinct.

  Sasha pressed her thighs together, but the motion only made the growing ache worse. Her breasts tingled, seeming to create a cord of pure lust from each nipple to the moistening folds of her sex. She licked her lips again, silently wishing he’d grab her and kiss her. She wanted him to shove her against the wall. She wanted him naked, his cock free to stake total claim. She wanted him to make her feel that night they were together all those months ago. How had she managed to block how good he’d been in bed? How had she let herself forget the thrill of not knowing what he was thinking, even as he thrust inside her? Kevin was excitement and sex and pure animalistic attraction. She wanted him and the unexpected rush of it confused her.

  How did she suppress it? How did she convince herself that it was nothing more than a drunken mistake? The answer came to her like a whisper in the back of her naughty mind. Trevor. She’d forced herself to deny the full degree of her passion for Kevin with her desire to have the fairytale life with Trevor.

  Trevor.

  Sasha’s breathing continued to deepen. Trevor, her boyfriend who left her this morning for Europe. Trevor, the insensitive clod who didn’t tell her about his impending move before today. Trevor, the man who’d inspired her to improve herself from the first moment she saw him. He was the reason she’d got back into shape, the one thing she told herself she was sure of, the one decision she managed to make when everything else in her life scared her. Trevor was future, security. Kevin was . . .

  Sasha’s mind went instantly blank. Was Kevin leaning closer? The fan of his breath struck her cheek and she sucked it in involuntarily. Though unintentionally intimate, just breathing the same air as him turned her on more.

  Sasha wasn’t sure if she would resist the claim of his kiss, but she never had a chance to find out. Kevin pulled back. ‘Tonight.’

  It took her a moment to process the gruff word. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I’m free tonight if you’d like to study up on Mesoamerican culture.’ Kevin ran his hands through his hair in what looked like an effort to smooth it. The gesture only messed it up more. ‘Dr Prichard has a reputation for making an example of at least one of the members of his team. It’s a way of wielding power and control over the group. He sent you for coffee, so I’d say you’d better work extra hard to impress him the rest of this week.’

  ‘I don’t need your help.’ Sasha didn’t move. His expression didn’t give much away. What was he thinking? Did he know the effect he had on her senses? Did he know she would have let him kiss her had he not stopped? Was this a game to him? Knowing a study session to be the last thing her confused mind and body needed, she said, ‘I’ll be prepared.’

  ‘Possibly, but why don’t you take my help anyway. You are my partner after all and it will be a hell of a lot easier for both of us if Prichard isn’t breathing down our necks.’

  ‘I said I’ll be prepared,’ Sasha ground out. Not wanting to fight with him all day, she lamely added, ‘Besides, I have to work tonight and I have classes early tomorrow morning.’

  ‘You work?’ Kevin’s question was interrupted by the laboratory door opening.

  Jacob came out, pushing a wheeled trash can filled with packing material. Seeing the two of them, he said, ‘You’d better get back in there. He’s ready to pass out the first assignments.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said to Jacob, pointing to the door. ‘Food’s in there.’ Sasha looked meaningfully at Kevin before heading back to the lab. ‘Enjoy your cinnamon roll.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘This rant has lasted a full five minutes. I want to meet him.’ Zoe leaned forwards in her cushioned chair, a wide grin across her face. ‘Any man who can drive Sasha this crazy has to be worth meeting.’

  ‘Is this the guy you were refusing to tell me about the other night?’ Kat demanded. ‘What did you call him? Prince Charming?’

  ‘Is he the reason you weren’t here last weekend?’ Zoe asked. ‘Is this someone special?’

  ‘What is it with this family and scientists?’ Megan sighed. ‘Though I guess a smart man makes sense for Sasha. Maybe he’ll be smart enough to finall
y help her pick a major. What degree are you going for now? Beet farmer? Cryptozoologist?’

  ‘I think cryptozoology is interesting,’ Kat inserted. ‘Can you actually major in Bigfoot?’

  Sasha grimaced at her sisters. They sat in the living room of their parents’ house waiting as their mother prepared a new recipe she’d read about in a magazine. Sunday was always a Matthews family gathering. The only missing person was Ella, who was somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean on a ship.

  Located on Ninety-Sixth Street and Columbus, the prewar building was of Art Deco influence. The apartment used to be classy and refined, but their unconventional mother made sure to take care of that. What had been a completely renovated home with polished hardwood floors, graceful mouldings and stylish white curtains had become an eccentric example of their mother’s flamboyant taste. Pink lace curtains hid the oversized window leading to the balcony. The floors were covered in large rugs and framed photographs hung on many of the walls. Sasha loved it, despite the lack of elegance. It reminded her of the safety of her childhood home.

  Addressing each sister in turn, Sasha answered, ‘No, you can’t meet my internship partner. No, I’ve never told you about him. Kevin Merchant isn’t a scientist, not really. He’s going to get his doctorate in anthropology. Kat is the only one in this family into a scientist. And, for the record, I am most definitely not into Kevin and I don’t need his help with anything.’

  ‘But you just said Prichard wanted him to help you study,’ Kat said.

  ‘Methinks Sasha protests too much.’ Zoe’s grin widened. The light gray of her cardigan sweater had three large buttons over the chest and hung open down the waist to show the bright-white T-shirt underneath. Like Kat, her collection of designer clothes had definitely grown since she had married wealth. Her husband, Jackson, could be heard laughing from down the hall. The men gathered in their father’s den. Douglas Matthews enjoyed his three sons-in-law’s company and often lured them away to do ‘men stuff’ the moment they walked in the door.

  Megan lounged with her feet kicked up, a beer bottle in her hand. Appearing natural in jeans and T-shirt, she kept her dark hair neatly back into a large oblong bun at the nape of her neck. Kat leaned up from her place on the couch, glancing to the kitchen doorway where Mariah played with blocks. Mother and daughter wore matching khaki cable-knit sweaters. The chubby babe had the same fair complexion of all Matthews women and the blonde hair inherited from Beatrice, just like Zoe, Kat and Ella. Megan and Sasha took after their father’s dark brown.

  ‘Nothing to say?’ Kat taunted, giggling as she again turned to her sisters.

  ‘Anything I say, you all are just going to twist it around to mean whatever you want to believe,’ Sasha answered.

  ‘I was on the phone with her,’ Kat said to the other two sisters. ‘She mentioned Peter. You know what that means. She’s having guy trouble.’

  ‘Pokey Pete?’ Zoe laughed.

  ‘Not Peter, Peter, who came to greet ’er and brought nothing but his peter!’ Megan practically snorted with amusement.

  ‘Oh, no, please don’t,’ Sasha groaned.

  ‘It’s not our fault he had a hard-on when he walked into the house.’ Zoe snickered, covering her mouth. She pointed at Sasha. ‘Oh, I forgot, it was your fault!’

  ‘Good ole Pokey Pete.’ Megan laughed harder, gripping her beer. ‘He was such a goober. I can’t believe you agreed to date him.’

  ‘So, talk to us, sis.’ Kat checked on her daughter again, seeing she still played. The little girl babbled cheerfully, not making sense to anyone but herself.

  ‘The only guy trouble I’m having is this partner they gave me for the internship,’ Sasha explained. This is why she never talked to her sisters or told the family of her boyfriends. They all pounced like gossip columnists fishing for their next big story.

  ‘Is he cute?’ Kat asked.

  ‘Does he have a job?’ Megan took a drink.

  ‘Is he a good kisser?’ Zoe questioned.

  ‘Have I told you that I really hate you all sometimes?’ Sasha tried to keep the dark look on her face, but couldn’t hold it. She gave a short laugh at the hopeful expressions on her sisters’ faces. ‘You know it’s not fair. You all gang up on me, but I can’t fight back. You all are married. I can’t tease you about guys anymore.’

  ‘Oh, sweetie,’ Megan said, her voice filled with concern. ‘It’s not that we got married. It’s just you’re such an easy target.’

  Sasha responded by throwing a ruffled pillow at her sister’s head. ‘I don’t know why I bother.’

  ‘OK, we promise we won’t tease you,’ Kat said. ‘Tell us about this miserable guy.’

  Sasha started to open her mouth, but was interrupted.

  ‘Is he a good kisser?’ Zoe repeated, causing an eruption of laughter.

  ‘What did I miss?’ Beatrice hurried from the kitchen, easily sidestepping her granddaughter. Mariah reached to touch her grandma’s powder-blue flared velvet exercise pants, but missed the soft fabric.

  ‘Nothing,’ Sasha said, beating the others who were still laughing.

  ‘We’re trying to figure out who Sasha’s in love with,’ Zoe said.

  Beatrice’s face lit with a smile and her hands lifted as if she would clap. Suddenly, she stopped, seeing Sasha’s stricken expression. Her hands slowly lowered to her sides. ‘You’re confused, aren’t you, honey? I saw that curse over your head when you were a child from the first time I read your leaves. You never knew what you wanted. Volleyball or soccer? Dance lessons or piano? Hamburger or hotdog? Everything with you was a debate and you were never completely convinced you wanted what you decided on. If you ordered the hamburger, you wanted the hotdog, if you ordered the hotdog, you wanted a grilled cheese sandwich.’

  ‘Mom, do you need help in the kitchen?’ Zoe asked. Sasha gave her a grateful half smile.

  ‘Lovely, dear, go finish up,’ Beatrice waved towards her chef daughter. ‘Recipe is on the counter.’

  Zoe shot Sasha an apologetic look and got up. ‘No problem.’

  Beatrice instantly took the abandoned seat. Her bright-blue eyes sparkled, made all the more brilliant by the stark red of her hair. The woman didn’t look her age, but had a natural youthfulness that all her daughters hoped to inherit. ‘Zoe, put on water. We need the tea!’

  Twenty minutes later, Sasha found herself with fingers threaded through her hair. The dark-wood grains of the table swam within her vision. She pulled at the tender strands hard, willing the small headache behind her eye to go away. Her mother lifted the porcelain teacup, staring into the depths as she turned it in circles. ‘Hm.’

  Sasha turned her head just enough to see her father from beneath her wrist. He winked, sharing a silent sympathy with her. A retired English professor, he had a love of learning that he shared wholeheartedly with Sasha. When her sisters were worried about dating and high fashion, Sasha and her father went to museums and discussed literature. If their mother was a bit of a flake, their father was just the opposite.

  ‘Mm-hmm,’ their mother hummed again.

  ‘What is it?’ Megan asked, mimicking her mom’s movements with her beer bottle.

  ‘Just as I thought,’ Beatrice said. ‘Sasha’s confused.’

  ‘And?’ Jackson prompted in interest. He loved the premonitions.

  Zoe merely chuckled, grabbing his wineglass to take a sip.

  ‘I see a boot.’ Beatrice turned the cup. ‘It’s kicking the number two. Strange.’

  ‘What does it mean?’ Jackson insisted.

  ‘Our mother’s crazy,’ Megan mumbled.

  Beatrice arched a brow at her oldest. ‘You’re just mad because I saw how many children you’re going to have.’

  ‘So, her prediction is that she’s going to buy two boots?’ Kat asked. ‘Or maybe take two trips. Boots equal walking.’

  ‘She’s going to kick two, um . . .’ Zoe hesitated, searching for the right word.

  ‘Wait, you said Kevin wasn’t the . .
.’ Kat gasped, jumping up slightly in her chair. ‘You’ve got two men and you’re going to give them the boot! Or you’re going to give number two the boot. Or . . .’

  Sasha tried to block them out by pressing harder against her skull. The last weeks had been torture, as she worked beside the infuriating Kevin. The man barely spoke to her, keeping their conversations to the task at hand – meticulously brushing dirt from the grooves of a broken piece of pottery. Dr Prichard treated her like an imbecile. Every morning she had to get coffee and pastries for the group and every afternoon she went for lunch. After two days, she had to go to the head of the foundation and ask for a food allowance. Luckily, Mr Coldwell knew his lead scientist’s quirks and only required she turned in receipts. To make matters worse, she’d left message after message for Trevor and he never called her back. She imagined he’d been busy and with the six-hour time difference matching schedules was hard, but she really needed to hear his voice – even if it was on voice mail.

  ‘Or each man is going to give you boots.’ Kat was still talking. ‘Or—’

  ‘OK.’ Sasha jumped up. ‘I’ve got to go. Lots of stuff to do. Busy college life and all that. Must write papers.’

  ‘But we haven’t eaten.’ Beatrice stood when Sasha tried to walk away from the table. ‘You sit right back down and don’t move. Every time I look at you I swear you’ve lost two pounds.’

  Sasha glanced at the door longingly, wondering if she could make it out the door before her mother caught her.

  ‘No one is to mention Sasha’s love life again,’ Beatrice ordered. Then holding the teacup, she said, ‘She doesn’t have answers right now anyway.’

  Sasha sat back down, thankful for her mother’s decree. She grabbed the bottle of merlot, filling her glass to the top. Her sisters giggled, but no one stopped her from downing the entire glass and going for a refill. Normally she enjoyed Sunday dinner, but this was going to be a long evening.