Chapter 18 #2
She tensed against another shiver. There was no doubt he read her thoughts.
She may as well be flashing a neon sign telling him she wanted him.
Somehow he’d flipped the situation she’d thought she had in hand.
Maybe the neon would be less obvious if it weren’t for her raw sexual tension.
If she could smell her own melting desire, then he could too.
The short drive took longer than her nerves could stand and she shoved her door open before he’d shut off the engine.
Jumping out, she nearly stumbled in her haste to get some distance and breathe in the night ocean air of the harbor.
Heading behind his house she shivered again, but this time it was the cool clammy breeze that got to her hair-trigger nerves and set off the vibrating.
“Come inside. We need to talk.” His clipped command startled her and she jumped around, almost ready to pounce.
He tilted his head and arched a brow, but then he turned from her and walked inside his side door in no particular hurry.
She stood where she was. She did not want to talk to him.
She most of all did not want to be inside the close confines of his small house with him.
That would lead to nothing good. Turning back toward the water, she took a deep breath and wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into.
But that was ridiculous. This was an assignment.
An undercover operation. And it wasn’t her first. He wasn’t the first hard-ass that she’d had to prove herself to.
But he was the first she wanted to prove herself to as a woman.
When he touched her shoulder, her heart lurched then hammered and she spun with every muscle tightened and ready for assault. Luckily for them both, he caught her arm and wrapped her up, preventing any harm.
“Looks like you could use a drink. Come inside.” He purred the words in her ear, his lips touching her hair and his breath fanning the skin of her neck.
She pushed herself from his arms and he let her.
“Don’t—”
“Don’t you say you’re fine.” His voice was calm and that maddened her.
Clamping her mouth closed, she turned away and walked inside the house, trying not to feel like she was walking to her doom—or to her bliss.
Either way, she had to get back on a professional track and she was sure having a drink with him wasn’t the way to do it.
When he stepped through the door, she said, “I’ll have ice water. And then I’ll want a place to sleep.” The sure and calm sound of her own voice, in spite of the jumpiness of her insides, made her feel better. Maybe she could pull this off after all.
If he left her alone.
His response was to reach for a glass from the cabinet, fill it with tap water and then pry some ice cubes from his freezer tray. God knew how long they’d been in there collecting freezer burn. Then he handed her the glass.
“Can we sit outside?” She asked in a cross between pleading and polite. He didn’t take his eyes from her, but didn’t respond for a few seconds. She held still.
“Okay.” He turned and walked back outside. It was like he knew she teetered on the edge of—something. She wasn’t even sure what. Professional suicide maybe? Committing the unforgivably clichéd act of regressing to hormone-driven teenage girl?
“What—no drink?” Her voice skipped and skittered like her heartbeat, dashing her attempt at cool.
“I need a clear head to deal with you.” He stopped talking and stopped walking short of reaching her where she stood at the edge of his patio.
The table and chairs were all askew, so she didn’t bother thinking to sit and relax even if she could have.
She saw the chip in the cement and drew a breath. A gunshot.
“Say it—girlie.” Shana said. “It wouldn’t be you talking if you didn’t say it. I hear it in your voice and on your mind even when you don’t say it.” She held herself rigid.
“Bothers you that much.”
“You wouldn’t bother calling me girlie if it didn’t bother me. Don’t pretend otherwise. And do not even think of pretending you’re all remorseful about it now.”
He laughed softly. She noticed the genuineness of it as if it was the first time he bothered being genuine—or allowed himself to be.
“So I’ll ask you again—what’s your story, Dane the Demon?” She did not fold her arms and glare at him, but she knew her voice told him that’s how she meant it.
He surveyed the waterfront, paused his gaze on the glittering lights of a yacht close by in the harbor and swept it slowly across the horizon until his eyes ended up on her.
She didn’t interrupt his silence. Figured an impatient demand would get her nowhere fast and so she met his quiet stare. Taking a step closer, he finally spoke.
“It’s none of your goddamn business. Least that’s what I tell myself.
But maybe the truth is you have a right to know since we’re partners.
Haven’t had a partner in a very long time.
” He stopped and turned back to the water.
Then he reached over and grabbed her hand.
“Come on.” He drew her across the patch of grass that led to a cement wall at the water’s edge.
Sitting and dangling his feet into the water, he patted the spot beside him for her to do the same. What the hell—she may as well. Could be he’d tell her something useful. Could be she needed some calming down and the lapping water might do the trick.
“No sandy beach for you?”
“Out of my price range.”
“And I thought hired guns made all kinds of money.”
He snapped his head around to squint at her. “That what you think, eh?”
“Call me wrong.”
He shrugged. “No matter. Money doesn’t matter much. Not anymore. If it ever did.”
They sat in silence for a while. She sipped her cold drink and felt the water drift up and down her ankles to her knees and back and damned if she didn’t feel soothed.
Leaning her head back to take in the pitch-black night between a few tree branches she spotted the pinpoint lights of stars and smelled the salty air of the harbor and felt the cool clamminess settle in around her.
“Maybe I ought to sleep out here.”
“There’s a hammock if you want. Help yourself. But then I’d have to sit in a chair and watch guard all night to make sure no boogeymen like Ned came calling. He’d guess you were here if you weren’t at your place.”
“There a reason you want him pissed at you?”
“Sure. Time’s a-wasting for Susan Whittier with the competition starting tomorrow. We need him to show his hand one way or another.”
“And what about Jean Luc?”
“What about him? He’s a big boy. I figure if he rats us out, we move fast. We have the advantage being on an island; otherwise he’d be gone. But he probably would figure that out and play it cool.”
“Do you think Jean Luc will rat us out?”
He shrugged. He turned and looked at her and that look made her swallow. Made her heart beat faster again.
“You stuck on him?”
“No. I’m stuck on you.” The words, her thoughts, her thudding pulse—none of it could be contained any longer. She thought she saw his eyes widen for the briefest of time.
Then he smiled. It was that genuine smile again, showing his teeth and wrinkling the weather-beaten corners of his eyes, but instead of making him look older it made him look boyish. She reminded herself that he was more wolf than boy or man.
“I sensed an attraction,” he said.
She laughed. He reached a hand out and threaded his fingers through her hair in an intimate gesture.
“I know it’s mutual,” she said.
He said nothing and it maddened her, raising her temperature in anger and lust both. He would be the death of her. He could be the end of her career, she told herself again and took a deep breath, still watching him watch her.
“Clearing the air—it’s supposed to be a good thing,” she said. Sounded lame to her, but it was all she had. She felt a plea for his mercy welling up inside her, but it never escaped.
He pulled her closer by her hair. Leaning into her, he cupped his other hand under her chin and took her mouth with his.
Covered her lips with his hot ones so that she tasted his salty sweat and a slight tang of the beer he’d had earlier and felt the velvety roughness of his tongue on hers and the demanding, luscious fullness of his lips sucking on hers and his saliva mixing with hers.
She heard nothing but the rushing of blood in her ears and the pounding of her heart as she grabbed the front of his shirt for balance and to hold onto him.
The sting of his hot skin through the shirt scalded her like an exquisite thrilling pain. A forbidden thrill.
She pushed from him and the world came back at once into her consciousness and she heard his hard breathing and saw the beads of sweat on his brow and one line of sweat trickling down the column of his neck over his Adam’s apple.
The staccato pace of her heart hadn’t slowed with the end of their kiss. This was the beginning. Of big trouble.
* * *
There was a slight tremble to his fingers as he unfisted his hand from her hair and pulled back. Breathing heavy, he tried for a cleansing deep breath to regain his control.
“It’s definitely not a good idea to clear the air.
Best we go on ignoring the attraction. We have a job to do.
” He watched her as he said the words and he meant them.
She only stared back at him with those kiss-swollen lips and electrifying green eyes and heaving breasts.
He meant to get up then and walk back inside.
The booming noise of fireworks in the distance startled them both and he grabbed her arms automatically, leaning into her protectively as he turned to the noise and lights of the colorful display. She gave a nervous laugh.
“Let’s get inside,” he said. “You’re under my protection, bottom line. No matter what else is going on or not going on between us.”