by Dawson, Zoe
“You’ve got to give him time,” Faith said. “Pushing Aiden isn’t going to help.”
Harper sighed. “You’re right, but my father needs his answer. But I’ll explain to him that Aiden is still struggling, and my father will back off. I’m glad Aiden has you, Faith.”
“For all the good I’m doing. He has nightmares and I don’t think he’s sleeping well. The only thing that seems to calm him is being here and focusing on the work.”
“Has he seen a doctor?”
“Yes, he’s seeing a doctor, thank God, but he’d kill me if he knew I told you. He doesn’t want to worry you or your father.”
“That’s Aiden. Stoic all the way. And completely blind to the fact that avoiding us is creating more worry than any difficult conversation would. But please call if you ever need me. Whenever, okay?”
“Of course, Harper.”
“Tell him I’m sorry I upset him, and I’ll tell Dad he’s not ready.”
Faith nodded and set down the carrier. “Do you want your coffee?”
“Of course, you got it for me.”
#
She had Jeffrey drop her in front of McGinty’s right after they had a heated argument about it. Jeffrey didn’t like the looks of the joint, and he thought Harper should go back home. But she was doing this whether he liked it or not. She was the boss.
She was excited about this evening, and that alien sensation of butterflies in her stomach was just an offshoot of that excitement. She never got nervous. She pushed the weathered door open and stepped into the dim interior. It was filled with tables, and those tables were filled with men…well, at least mostly men.
She peered into the gloom looking for Caleb. But she couldn’t see him. Many eyes turned her way, and she smiled and walked up to the bar.
“Are ye lost, love?”
The bartender had a wonderful Irish accent. “No, I’m not. I’m meeting someone here.”
“You, love? Meeting someone here?” He frowned. It was clear he thought she didn’t belong. Well, that was just too bad. He was in the same boat as her chauffeur. Caleb would probably think the same thing.
Anticipation curled in her at seeing him again. There was something about that man that made her heart race, a raw energy that arced between them, and that was saying something.
She thought what probably every other red-blooded female thought when first looking at him. Get him in bed as quickly as possible. Let me see what he has under those clothes. But after talking to him, she wanted to see him in his own environment. Was there some common ground for them? It didn’t mean she didn’t still want to touch his mouth, his beard, his shoulders, make those brown eyes of his heat up. Make him see only her. No, that was silly, because she wasn’t a proprietary person at all.
A hook-up with Caleb was what she’d planned, but now she wasn’t so sure. There was something about him that made her nervous. Some…something she worried might snag her if she got too close.
“Is meeting here so surprising?”
“Aye, ‘tis, but what can I get ye?”
“A beer.”
He smiled and he pulled one from the tap as Harper sat down at one of the barstools. After a few minutes a man approached her.
“What you on about, boyo?”
“Just wanted to see if the lady would like to shoot some pool.”
“Pool? Yes, I love pool.”
He smiled and she turned to see two pool tables set up in the back.
“Miss, ‘tis a bad idea. Can I call ye a cab?”
“No, thank you. I have a ride out front.”
She slipped off the bar stool and walked with her challenger to the back. She held out her hand and he shook it. “I’m Harper Sinclair, and you are?”
“Dave.”
“Okay, Dave, you rack and I’ll break.”
He eyed her, and she felt sure she fit in perfectly with her jeans and ruffled white tank top.
#
Caleb walked into McGinty’s looking forward to throwing back a few beers, playing a little pool, and catching a few innings of the Yankees on the tube. When he walked in the door there was a mob of guys near the pool table. He’d already sent out feelers regarding Harper’s jewelry and was letting the street work its gritty magic while he hunted down his main snitch, Lang. He smiled at Mickey the bartender and ordered a beer. Mickey slid it down the bar, and Caleb lifted it to his mouth.
But before he could swallow, he sprayed the beer out in utter shock and horror.
The knot of men had opened, and there was Harper Sinclair, bent over the pool table in painted-on jeans and a frilly white top that left her gorgeous shoulders and back bare.
He looked down the length of her body, over the incredible curves of her ass to the backs of her shapely calves, to her three-inch animal skin sandals.
He wanted to devour her, to start at her delectable, full-lipped mouth and inch his way down to her pink, polished toenails.
He set his beer on the bar, while his gaze still wandered around her body. He was hovering on the edge of seducing her. He didn’t think it would take much if that impromptu dance last night was any indication of how much she wanted him.
“Fuck,” he said soft and slow under his breath.
“She a friend of yours, boyo?”
“I wouldn’t classify her as a friend.”
“Well, it’s past time she hit the road, don’t ye think?”
“Yes, I do. Leave it to me.”
He strode over there, the anger at her recklessness building with each step. She had no idea how much danger she was in, with half these men being drunken louts and the other half lecherous bastards. He ogled her when they’d first met, but you could bet the rest of them were already at least one giant step ahead of him. He shouldered the men aside and grabbed the pool cue right out of her hand.
Her blue eyes collided with his and his heart ratcheted up a couple notches. Damn…why did she have to do that to him?
“Hey, buddy! You messed up her shot.”
“She’s done,” he said over his shoulder and some of the guys took one look at him and backed off, but there were always men who either weren’t smart enough or were too drunk to recognize the danger they were in.
One of them shoved him. Caleb pivoted and grabbed the guy by the shirtfront, giving him a back down or else look. His best I’m-a-fucking-badass-and-I’ll-fuck-you-up look, that he’d perfected not only on the streets of the Bronx, but also in the mean, unforgiving streets of New York City, as a rookie cop, and now as a detective.
The dude backed off, but in the tussle someone else grabbed Harper, and she let out a soft cry of surprise when the other guy pushed her against the wall.
Caleb’s protective instincts gripped him and he lunged forward, hauling the guy off her. That was it. That was all it took. Harper had these guys so jacked up, it had been only a matter of time before someone threw the first frustrated punch. The whole bar erupted into a free-for-all. Harper was frozen against the wall, her mouth in a little O of surprise, her eyes wide with alarm.
A chair came flying out of nowhere straight towards her and Caleb jumped in front of her, grunting as he took the impact against the side of his body. It drove him back a few steps, and he snarled in pain as the chair slammed into his hip and glanced off his injured shoulder. He grabbed at his shoulder and stood there trying to breathe around the agony. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely healed. Pain radiated up and down from his shoulder to his calf, his hip throbbing where he’d taken the brunt of the blow. A bottle flew at them and he ducked it, grabbing Harper’s hand and dragging her low.
Trying to will the excruciating pain away, he met her eyes, and the sympathy there made his heart skip a beat. He didn’t need her feeling sorry for him. He rose and started to shove their way to the back alley door. She clutched at him like he was a lifeline.
Someone grabbed her again, and he reacted instantly, ignoring the pain. This time the guy was big, and he didn’t look intimidat
ed by Caleb’s six-two, muscular build.
Then the guy hauled off and punched him in the face. Caleb was thrown sideways, swearing as pain vibrated through his cheekbone and he tasted blood from a cut lip. When he turned back around, he ducked and led with an uppercut, his knuckles stinging, the impact sending more pain into his shoulder, and he clutched it again. The guy was hardly fazed. Damn, this was going to require more than just a punching contest, and he had to get Harper out of there. Now!
The next punch the mountain man threw, Caleb got behind him, grabbing onto his thick neck, and wrapped both arms around the guy’s throat, ignoring his shoulder’s screaming agony. But he held on until the guy’s knees buckled and he passed out. Caleb glanced up to find Harper standing there staring at him like he was as dangerous as a crocodile, her eyes still wide and so blue. He grabbed her hand again and pulled her toward the side exit into the alley. When they exploded out the doors, he swung her around and pressed her back up against the brick wall.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?!” He was beyond pissed. As much because she could have been seriously hurt with all those meatheads in there throwing around punches and chairs and beer bottles. His gut clenched thinking of even a scratch on her.
“You told me to meet you here!” Her eyes were blazing, and he had a feeling some of her reaction was adrenaline.
“I wasn’t serious!” He scoffed. She got in his face then, and his breath caught. Geezus! She was lucky he’d stopped by. She would never have gotten out of that bar alive, not with that face and that body and her freaking annoying attitude.
“Well, I was!” She shoved at his chest, but he had no intention of moving away from her just yet, not with all that racket still going on in the bar. The movement dislodged the silky braid thing she had going on with her hair, though, and more hair slid down around her flushed face.
It wouldn’t take much to get all that plaited hair to come tumbling down. And suddenly he was hard-pressed to stay on task.
“Do you hear the ruckus you started in there?” She shoved him again, this time with both hands, but they didn’t budge him an inch. Her eyes blazed blue flame, and he knew it was really messed up that he couldn’t get enough of feeling her fire.
“That wasn’t me!” she yelled. “That was you!”
“You started that bar fight the moment you sashayed in there looking like that.” He gestured with his hand up and down her body.
“Like what? Isn’t this the appropriate attire for a night playing pool?”
“Attire?” He ran his hands through his hair. “Unfuckingbelievable! Are you under the impression you were playing ‘billiards’ with gentlemen?”
“They were on their best behavior until you came along and did that snatchy thing with my pool cue.” She realized what he had just said and she made an indignant face. “And what’s wrong with how I’m dressed? It’s appropriate for a bar.”
He just stared at her, speechless. Didn’t she get it? She looked so warm and alive. Her mouth so soft. The curve of her jaw so delicate. Her cheeks, the silky fall of the unraveling braid against her throat were he wanted to put his mouth. The wind played with the long strands, dancing on the white ruffles of her top. He planted his hands on his hips to buy time to get a grip, but his chest just grew tighter. She was so female, she had to bring out every primal instinct in any man who looked at her. Including him. Especially him. He wasn’t civilized. He was a cop and he had cut his teeth on the street. Rough, coarse and brusque. He didn’t know how to handle a delicate and refined princess like Harper.
She was elegant, sophisticated and cultured, and he was a guy who ate ravioli out of a can and slept in the buff, for chrissake. He couldn’t have her. Hell, he didn’t even know her, and if she was half as smart as he thought she was, she sure as hell wouldn’t want to know him—and he didn’t blame her. He was no catch, even on a good day, even if she could overlook the fact that he was just a cop. This case that brought them together would eventually be over.
So that just left hot, sweaty, out-of-control sex.
“Everyfuckingthing! Do you have any idea how your ass looks in those jeans, especially when you were bent over the pool table putting it on display for everyone…and that top leaving your shoulders bare! Awww, hell, you could have walked in there wearing a burlap bag. It wouldn’t matter! It’s the way you look.”
She wasn’t just pretty. She was beautiful, and he was insane. There was no other way to account for his slow, unstoppable landslide into desire. It was impossible for any sane man to look at her and not think about satin sheets, naked skin, and getting deep inside her.
“I always look like this!” she shouted, like he’d just insulted her.
“That’s exactly the problem!” he bellowed back. They stood there for a few minutes, both breathing hard.
“You need an escort for that kind of bar, and any fool man who brought you here deserves to be throttled.”
“What? I don’t need an escort.”
“Harper! That’s a rough bar and it was open season on you. I knew you wouldn’t last five minutes.”
“I was playing pool for thirty minutes before you got here!”
“I don’t care!”
She gripped his polo shirt. “Stop yelling at me! You are the most exasperating man I have ever met!”
He got right in her face and shouted. “You are the most exasperating princess I have ever met!” Too close. He was too close, and that was completely the end of his patience. His resolve broke at nothing more than a whisper of her heated breath between them.
With a soft exhalation, he said, “Fuck!” and he dropped his mouth on hers, his kiss hard, a bit out of control. She tasted amazing, rich, forbidden, and decadent. Something raw and consuming overtook him. Whether it was a part of his nature or his reaction to the taste of Harper, he didn’t know. He didn’t give a flying fuck. He had to have her. He pressed into her, and her response tightened everything in his body.
Her low sob broke against his mouth, and he shoved his hands into her hair, and all of it came tumbling down, warm and silky. Strands of buttery yellow cascaded over the backs of his hands, jacking up his breathing and the fierceness of his mouth sliding over her lips.
The flowery scent of her filled him like invisible energy with a complex mix of light, wild musk that said “woman” to him, one-hundred-percent pure female. And a deeper, un-nameable element that was simply her. Now that he’d breathed her deep into him, he wasn’t sure he could do without it.
He held her still as his mouth sizzled, hungry, and ravaging against hers. Locking her arms around him, she yielded, melting against him like hot, expensive chocolate, her hands delving into his hair, trailing fire over the nape of his neck. Her touch drove him bonkers.
Widening his stance, Caleb dragged her up against his groin, his dick so hard it ached. He forgot where he was. Forgot who he was and just sank into the sensation of her.
He was so fucking crazy, he told himself. He couldn’t think of a damn thing she’d done to slay him like this. In truth, she hadn’t done anything except be herself, and he might have accused her of being provocative, but that was just her nature. But he was slain at her feet all the same.
He gave himself up to the biggest mistake of his life. He was in so much trouble. He needed somebody to come and save him—because he wasn’t going to save himself.
No fucking way.
Chapter Five
His beard was soft, but his mouth was softer, oh-so-soft and hot, and wet, and gloriously melding with her lips as if he needed her breath to live. This was the passion she’d been looking for, this kind of chemistry that both frightened her and drew her irrevocably.
And—ohhhh, damn— his skin, the back of his neck, was like velvet, so shocking on such a potently dynamic man. Everything about him should be hard.
Ooooh, lucky her. He was hard in all the right places. His chest, his corded arms, behind his fly. She’d never wanted to explore a man as much
as she wanted to spend hours…days…going over every inch of him.
She opened her mouth for him, inviting him to plunder and take her. He tightened his hold on her face and stroked his thumbs along her jaw. When his tongue touched hers, she groaned and he sucked on her bottom lip, making her body vibrate like a tuning fork.
Sirens wailed in the distance, then closer, coming from a couple of directions.
He took a deep, uneven breath and broke the kiss, resting his silky jaw and soft hair against the hollow between her shoulder and neck.
“Harper!”
She jumped and they both turned their heads to find her chauffeur standing at the entrance to the alley. He looked murderous, like he’d been frantically trying to find her in the bar brawl. She felt incredibly guilty that Jeffrey had been in there dodging fists while she was out here locking lips with Caleb and losing her damn mind.
“Go,” Caleb rasped out, “I don’t want you here when the boys in blue arrive.”
Oh God, no. She didn’t want to let go of him. But she had to because he was right. She didn’t want to end up arrested for a bar fight, or—worse yet—caught on film running from a bar fight. The thrill of Caleb’s passion still swirling around in her, she cupped his face and planted a hard, quick kiss on his mouth.
He stepped back, exchanging a very heated look with her, and she could only hope that she’d given him enough of a prelude to make sure they eventually came together in bed. Soon.
“Go. Now, Harper, before I do something crazy.”
She started to walk, her knees weak. Jeffrey cupped her elbow when she reached him and hurried her to the limo. He eased her inside against the butter-soft leather seats. She’d never taken her gaze off Caleb as he watched her walk away.
She closed her eyes when he was no longer visible. How had everything gotten so out of hand? One minute she was playing pool with a bunch of friendly guys and the next she was plastered against Caleb while he practically devoured her.