Pursuit

by Chance, Lynda

  “Okay. Rattle it off,” he offered in a compromise, picking up the phone but still not letting loose of her hand.

  Lauren’s nerves quaked inwardly. She still wasn’t sure how she wanted to handle this, and tried to delay him with humor. “Seven-one-three,” she began, reciting one of the more prominent Houston area codes. “Eight-six-seven-five-three-zero-nine,” she said in a perfectly neutral tone.

  He immediately began keying the numbers into his phone, but then he abruptly stopped and his eyes zeroed in on hers. She saw a hint of amusement and a glimmer of … something else. “Ahh Lauren honey,” he intoned softly, almost challengingly. “You’re going to pay for that one, sweetheart.”

  “You know your eighties dance music?” she asked, somewhat surprised.

  “Do you like to dance?” he retaliated swiftly.

  “Yeah, I do,” she answered honestly.

  “When do you want to go?”

  They might only be joking around, but in Lauren’s experience only about a quarter of the men out there cared to dance at all, and finding one wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. “You’re offering to take me dancing?”

  His eyes held hers for three beats. “All I need is your phone number.”

  He was probably only leading her on to get her number, but the thought of fast songs leading to slow songs and him holding her intimately was causing her limbs to tremble. “I’m not so sure I’m ready to go dancing with you quite yet.”

  “How about dinner?” He offered so softly and gently that Lauren knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what he wanted her answer to be.

  The look he was giving her pierced her soul. She really wanted to go. But she didn’t believe him for a minute that not sleeping with him would be okay. He’d be after her; she knew he would. And the knowledge was inducing not only sexual heat but also a mild sense of panic.

  And then she remembered what Heidi said would happen to her if she didn’t start dating again.

  She didn’t believe it but she also didn’t want to become a sad old lady with only a bunch of cats for company.

  And he was amazingly, agonizingly hot.

  Taking a chance, she inhaled deeply and rattled off her phone number.

  He reared back in his seat. “Are you serious this time?”

  “Yes.”

  He released her hand, put both hands around his phone, and keyed the number in. “Dinner tonight?” He swiftly tried to get her to commit.

  “I can’t tonight.” Lauren thought of all the hours of work ahead of her. “Are you busy tomorrow night?” she asked, rather daringly, shocking herself a little.

  His gaze raked her, appraising her hotly. “You want to give me a Friday night?”

  What the hell did he mean by that? “Just dinner, right?” she clarified firmly.

  “Yeah, I’ll pick you up.”

  Now that he had her phone number, his answers were coming so swiftly that Lauren had the impression he was trying to rope and tie her down. “No, I’ll meet you somewhere.”

  He lifted one eyebrow and his expression was impossible to read. “Don’t trust me?”

  Lauren lifted her chin a notch and crossed her arms over her chest. “Absolutely not.”

  Any laughter that might have been in his eyes died, and he gave her a wholly approving look. “Good girl.” He held her gaze captive for several prolonged heartbeats and a warm, fuzzy feeling hit Lauren’s stomach from his blatant approval.

  He glanced back down and keyed something into his phone.

  Her cell vibrated. She picked it up and read the text there. Logan Crenshaw. Just his name. And yet simple and powerful. Well, there was no way she could confuse his text with someone else’s, now could she?

  ****

  Lauren hadn’t told Heidi about her upcoming date because she didn’t want to hear the kind of lecture that she knew she’d be subjected to. So Lauren had no outlet for her nerves and when she walked into the restaurant on the south side of town where she’d agreed to meet Logan, her stomach was tied into knots of stress.

  She stood in line at the hostess stand and surreptitiously looked around. Her phone vibrated almost immediately and she lifted it and read the text there. At the bar. Her nerves escalated as she realized that even now, she was being watched.

  She declined to waste time sending an answer and walked around the line of people until she found the bar area. Almost immediately, she saw his tall figure stand to his feet at the far end of the bar, and she felt the butterflies dance around in her stomach and try to claw their way up her throat. Jesus, he was good-looking.

  The lights were dimmed for the nighttime crowd, and when she got close enough, he reached out and snagged her hand and pulled her into him, until her torso came flush against his with startling impact. Her breath escaped with a silent ‘whoosh’ and without waiting for her consent, his head dropped down and his mouth covered hers in a kiss so unexpected that the surprise of it hit her full force.

  His hand released hers and his arms wrapped around her, gripping her tightly to his large form. Her lips parted slightly from the impact and he took immediate advantage and pushed his tongue inside. Lauren shut her eyes and was swamped with the hottest wave of desire she could ever remember feeling. Every thought in her brain escaped her head and all she could do was hang in his arms as he kissed her as if she already belonged to him. She had a single crazy thought; it was as if they’d been together forever and were meeting after work for the thousandth time. But that was just a weird feeling of d��j�� vu, and the hot jangle of excited nerves she was feeling told her it was definitely the first time.

  As his tongue swirled slowly and firmly in her mouth, he turned his head and adjusted the way their mouths fit together. He took total control of the kiss, his arms claiming her, steel bands holding her in place. His mastery was absolute, yet she felt no threat from him, only a weird sense of sanctuary that blended with an all-consuming craving for more of his touch. Her hands landed on his biceps to find purchase, and his fingers slid down to her butt and clenched her flesh.

  It was as if an electric wire connected them; his touch coiled through her and landed like a heated ache between her thighs. Her legs began to shake and just when she began to forget that they stood in a crowded room full of rowdy people, he lifted his head. She finally remembered to open her eyes, and when she did, she found his look centered wholly on her.

  Any lingering smile he might have worn dissolved completely. In fact, his eyes narrowed and his expression was one she couldn’t interpret, but for some reason, he looked none too happy, but maybe she was reading too much into it. He continued to restrain her tightly within the circle of his embrace, and she cleared her throat in agitation. “Hi,” was all she could manage.

  His eyes dropped to her lips before slowly lifting again and tangling with hers. “Hey.”

  She took a ragged breath as her heart beat viciously in her chest. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  His eyes shadowed. “I didn’t plan it.”

  Lauren saw the truth of that statement in his eyes, and as they continued to stare at each other, the crowd jostled and Lauren felt a push from behind, and the moment was broken. Logan’s arms clamped protectively around her as he looked over her head. His eyebrows came together and he swiveled her until she was standing away from the crowd and he blocked her with his body.

  Lauren was just about to sit on a barstool when the hostess arrived and led them to their table. They were led all the way to the back of the restaurant, and Logan stood beside her while Lauren slid into the booth. She was kept totally off-balance when he slid in next to her instead of taking the seat across from hers.

  The hostess gave them two menus and told them that their server would be there soon to take their order.

  Logan opened his menu and began to scan it. “What do you want to drink?”

  Lauren glanced at the beer bottle he’d carried with him from the bar. “Corona Light.”

  He glanced at her
from the corner of his eye. “Salt?”

  “Oh, yeah, definitely. Lime and extra salt.”

  Their server came and Lauren couldn’t help but notice that the girl couldn’t keep her eyes off Logan. And who could blame her?

  They placed their orders for food and drink and sat back. Logan didn’t delve into speech right away. He looked away from her, in the opposite direction, as he seemed to study the restaurant, but his hand slid under the table and Lauren almost jumped out of her skin as she felt his beefy hand on her thigh.

  He must have felt her jump because he turned and looked down at her. “You okay?”

  Lauren unwrapped her utensils from the napkin to occupy her hands. “Yeah.”

  His expression was hooded as he looked down at her. “You’re okay with my hand there?”

  She exhaled a shaky breath. “Do I have a choice?” She didn’t want a choice; she loved his hand there.

  His look became thoughtful. “You need to learn something about me right off the bat. You always have a choice.” His eyes ran over her. “There’s something about you,” he said, as if to himself. He studied her intently with a hooded gaze. “If I push too hard, I want you to promise me right now that you’ll let me know, okay?”

  Lauren caught her breath. That sounded serious. Nothing like first date, getting-to-know-you kind of stuff. “All right.”

  “So, you’re okay with my hand there?” He asked again as his fingers spread over her thigh and gripped her in a subtle caress.

  She nodded her head. “Mm-hmm.”

  He looked away again, but his hand stayed plastered to her thigh. Lauren wasn’t sure why he kept turning away from her but she knew instinctively that she still retained one hundred percent of his attention. His hand slid up and down her thigh and his voice was anything but casual as he asked, “If I tell you something, will you believe me and not think I’m just bullshitting you in a lame attempt to get you into bed?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Lauren managed, bracing herself for what he might say.

  He turned back toward her and his eyes swallowed hers whole. Seconds passed and the prolonged anticipation began to make her blood heat. For a moment Lauren thought he’d changed his mind and wasn’t going to say anything, but then he inhaled and said in a roughened voice, “You’ve got to be the sexiest woman I’ve ever come across in my entire goddamned life.”

  His words registered and a thousand points of light rushed through her system and attacked her with a need so strong that she felt light-headed. Even though she didn’t know him, not really, she somehow believed he was telling her the truth. His eyes never let hers go and she could only respond with the truth, although she could manage little more than a whisper. “You’re pretty sexy yourself.”

  His eyes flared and his lips clenched as his hand slid up another inch on her thigh. “How long do you think we’ll be able to stay out of bed?” he asked in a rough, heated tone, almost as if he was as stunned by the depth of the chemistry between them as she was.

  Lauren was saved from having to answer when their drinks arrived. But all she could think about was the question he’d just asked and how she could distract them both from it. She moved her beer bottle forward and reached for the lime and carefully squeezed it into the bottle before dropping the entire wedge inside.

  He watched the procedure intently. “You’re pretty good at that.”

  She flashed her eyes at him and tried to regain a little control over the situation. “It’s a fine art, you know.”

  “Mm-hmm.” He took a drink of his own beer and seemed to take his attention from her again, but Lauren felt his concentration never waver.

  As he watched from the corner of his eye, Lauren lifted the bottle and took a tiny swipe of the salt with her tongue before lifting the beer and taking a sip.

  He spluttered, slammed his bottle to the table and turned to her completely. “You did that on purpose,” he accused.

  She laughed and did it again, this time taking a bit more salt on her tongue. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, you did.” He reached out and knocked a grain of salt from her lip.

  It was a definite turn-on, watching him watch her. “It’s the only way I can drink beer. I have to have lots of salt.”

  He looked dumbfounded. “You don’t like beer?”

  She turned toward him with the bottle in her hand and took another sip. “I hate it.”

  His face broke into amused creases as he studied her. “Why did you order it?”

  She smiled and tipped her head to the side. “Because you’re drinking and I want to drink with you, but I can’t.”

  “You can’t?” His eyes turned into slits. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Lauren shrugged a single shoulder. “It means I want a margarita, but I’m going to settle on a beer.”

  “Why can’t you have a margarita?”

  “Because I’m driving and I’m a lightweight. I’ll only drink about half this beer, a few sips will take the edge off but I’ll be able to drive.”

  He watched her for the count of three seconds before answering, “That’s the craziest shit I’ve ever heard.”

  “But you don’t doubt that I’m telling the truth, right?”

  “Oh, I believe you’re telling the truth.” He took another sip of his beer before continuing, “It’s too insane to be anything but the truth.”

  She smiled but remained silent and he continued in a lower voice, “So, you need to take the edge off?”

  He was watching her intently and a sensuous light passed between them. “Yeah,” she admitted.

  His gaze sharpened on her. “Why?”

  When his eyes fell to her breasts, the truth came tumbling from her lips. “Because you make me nervous?”

  He raised his eyes back to her face. “Was that a statement or a question?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath. “It was a statement; you make me nervous.”

  His expression turned serious, his gaze riveted on her as a look came down over his countenance that she couldn’t identify. “Sweetheart, if it makes you feel any better, you scare the shit out of me.”

  Lauren’s heart jolted and she felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach. She tried to form words but she couldn’t and just then, Logan’s eyes were forced to leave hers as their food arrived.

  They ate in a silence, almost companionable but not quite, as a current of electricity circled over them and kept her on edge.

  He questioned her between bites. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “Where you from? You’re not from Texas.”

  “Ohio.” She studied the brackets around his mouth. “How old are you?”

  He sent her a look and she asked, “What? You asked me first.”

  “I’m twenty-eight.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m an architect.”

  “Really? That sounds interesting. Incredibly hard, but interesting.”

  “I like it,” he answered succinctly. “I’m in the process of opening up my own firm. What do you do?”

  Her mouth twisted. “I sit in a cubicle all day and look at numbers.”

  “An accountant of some kind?”

  “Yeah, sort of. I do some accounting, but my job title is financial analyst. And it’s not interesting. It’s extremely tedious and boring.”

  “Why do you do it?” he questioned.

  “I got my bachelor’s in finance. Don’t ask me why. I was good at math and didn’t know what I wanted to do. But it’s a good job and it pays the bills.”

  His eyes traveled over her face and searched her expression. “Can’t ask for more than that, I suppose.”

  Lauren took the last bite she could possibly manage and set her fork down. She recognized a maddening hint of arrogance in his questions, and yet it didn’t upset her. But it certainly kept her on her toes. He was extremely attractive; and she was in no way blind to that attraction.

 
After a few moments he finished his meal as well and washed it down with half of the iced water that sat in front of him.

  The server came and with precise, economical movements, cleared the table, left the bill and then turned and walked away. As Logan picked up the check, Lauren made a move for her purse.

  He raised a single eyebrow and annoyance crossed his features. “Don’t do that.”

  “Why not?” She asked as casually as she could manage.

  “I asked you out,” he replied succinctly.

  “Does that mean if I ask you out, you’ll let me pay?” she enquired innocently.

  “No,” he snapped.

  Lauren wasn’t trying to argue; she was just curious. “Why not?”

  “What are you expecting me to say here, Lauren? Me, Tarzan … you Jane?”

  Her heart started a heavy beat. Was it from apprehension or excitement? Oh, excitement, definitely. “Is that the way you feel?” she questioned.

  “You don’t really want to know how I feel,” he said off-handedly as he placed a large denomination note in the folder and slid to his feet.

  A quiver of dangerous warmth hit her belly at his ominous assertion. “I don’t?”

  He held his hand out to her and Lauren took it, standing shakily to her feet.

  Ignoring her question as if the subject was closed, he put one arm around her and tipped her chin up with the other. “Are you going out with me tomorrow night?”

  A hot rush of delirium mingled with a bit of relief infiltrated her system. “Okay,” she agreed. She tried not to smile but she couldn’t control the slight lift of her lips.

  His eyes roved over her and lazily appraised her, even as his arm tightened around her waist. “I’ll pick you up so you can have a margarita.”

  “All right,” she agreed again. With his arm like a steel band around her waist and his heady, masculine scent swirling around her senses, Lauren had the insane thought that she might agree to anything he suggested. Thank God he wasn’t a scientist or an astronaut or something crazy like that; she could just see herself blithely agreeing to a one-way mission to colonize Mars with the intent of propagating the species as his mate.