by Jill Shalvis
“Dani—”
“The point is, none of this makes any sense. My job, while lovely to me, is actually really very boring to most. I observe mammals, write reports on their behavior. I feed them and clean up after them. Not exactly glamorous work, you know? I haven’t made any enemies, and though my family is richer than God, there’s no reason for any of them to hurt me. The end.”
“Ex-boyfriends? Current boyfriends?”
She looked away.
“Dani.”
She was too busy with work to have a real life. Okay, that wasn’t exactly the truth either. She was too busy being independent to let anyone in. “It’s been a while.”
“How long a while?”
She winced. Could this get any more humiliating? “Months.”
“Months.”
She closed her eyes. “Okay, a year.”
“A year?”
“And a half.”
Silence. She felt her face grow hot, and finally opened her eyes.
He didn’t look horrified or disgusted. Just patient, and understanding. “Nothing more current?” he said without judgment. “Nothing at all?”
She hugged herself. “If I had something more current going on, I wouldn’t have kissed you in the closet.”
“Which begs the question . . .” He shifted closer, put his hand on her jaw, and lifted her face to his. “After all that time of going without, why did you kiss me in the closet?”
She opened her mouth, and then shut it again. It was a good question, a fair question. But how to explain that she’d kissed him in the closet to kick-start herself, and that mission had been accomplished. What she hadn’t realized was that she’d want another kiss.
And another.
And despite his interest, she knew enough to know she couldn’t possibly keep it. Kissing him again, or even explaining the kiss would be like opening a big, fat can of worms.
“Just an impulse?” he inquired.
His hand was still on her jaw, and she liked his touch, too much. So much. How in the world did people do this, open up and let someone in, and then casually walk away after one encounter? She needed to work on that. “I dared myself.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Okay, then. That clears everything up. Thanks.”
“Shayne—”
“Never mind. I get it. We’re . . .”
“On different playing fields.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re a ten, and—”
“Not that again.”
“What did your brother say exactly?” she asked.
He arched a brow. “Subject change?”
“Subject change.”
He sighed. “He said that just because there’s no sign of a break-in doesn’t mean someone wasn’t here.”
“So he believes me too?”
The answer was in his eyes. “Oh. I see.” She turned her back to him because she didn’t want him to see her disappointment. “He doesn’t.” She leaned on the couch. “So what about the gun? Did I plant that myself then?”
“He’s going to see who it’s registered to.”
“And in the meantime?”
“Sleep.” He was right behind her. Not quite touching, but she could feel his body heat. “You look like you could use it.”
She had to close her eyes and work on controlling her voice so that it didn’t shake like the rest of her was. “Thanks. Thanks for being here for me tonight, and thanks for calling your brother. I appreciate it. I’ll be fine, though. You can go.”
“You’re going to sleep here?”
“No, actually. I think I’ll go to work and sleep there. I’ve done that before,” she said, hoping to ward off his protest. “A lot. I’m very comfortable there.”
His hands slid to her hips and turned her around to face him. “How about somewhere you won’t be alone?”
“I have the animals.”
“I was thinking of the human persuasion. Preferably female.”
“I could call Reena,” she said. “But it’s nearly one in the morning. Maybe I could just go knock on Alan’s door.”
“Is he really your friend?”
“He bought me pizza on Monday.”
“Why?”
“To be nice.”
He let out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Dani, guys do not bring pizza to be nice unless they’re gay. Is he gay?”
“No.”
“Then he brought pizza to get into your pants.”
She choked out a laugh. “I don’t think he thinks like that.”
“Please,” he said with disgust. “With that sexy laugh of yours alone, he’d think like that.”
She blinked. He thought her laugh was sexy?
“Yeah,” he said to her unspoken question. “You’re sexy as hell, okay? You’re also smart, you’re beautiful, and you have this way of looking at a guy that makes him want . . .”
“What?” she whispered, fascinated, overwhelmed. Aroused.
“In your pants,” he said frankly.
She concentrated on breathing for a moment. “Is that a compliment?”
“It’s a fact. What about a hotel?”
She thought of her checking account, which didn’t really have room for a hotel bill. Maybe a motel. Maybe a really cheap, out-of-the-way motel—
“My place,” he said. “I’ll take the couch,” he added when she looked at him in surprise. He stood there, big and tall and not quite as easygoing as he’d like her to believe, but the offer was genuine.
And her immediate response, which was hopeful nipples and a tightening between her thighs, was just as genuine.
And wrong. So very wrong, because she was not going to go there, not going to give him a chance to do a tap dance on her heart—and her good parts—and then move on. No, thank you. Easier to pass now, to just keep passing.
“Dani?”
“I . . .” Desperately want to say yes. “I’m grateful for the offer, but that wouldn’t be fair to you.” Before she could betray herself, she left him standing there and moved into her bedroom, where she changed into jeans and a sweater.
When she came out, he was waiting. “Fair to me?”
“I’m not sleeping on your couch, okay?” Even if I want to. “Or in your bed.” Which I really want to. “Or anywhere with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to.” God, she was such a liar. “Okay, I want to. But it’d be a really bad idea.”
Leaning back against the wall, he crossed his arms, looking bemused. “So you’ll kiss me in the closet when you don’t know me, but now that you do know me, you won’t sleep in my house?”
“How much longer am I going to have to live down the whole closet thing?”
“At least until daylight.”
She sighed. “Look, thanks. Okay? Thanks more than you know. But no to the sleepover. I’m going to my office.”
Standing there in those sophisticated, elegant clothes that had been soaked two different times over the course of the evening and were still holding up—much like the man—he held out a hand. “Fine. But I’m giving you a ride. Come on,” he said, wriggling his fingers when she hesitated. “Let me help you that much, at least.”
She slipped her hand into his, and together they went back out into the night.
The rain had let up. It was merely misting now, falling out of the sky like a silvery spiderweb. The ride was short, and silent, and as they pulled into the zoo parking lot, the place dark and more eerie than she could ever remember it being, making her shiver as the niggling of doubt hit her.
“It’s not too late to change your mind.”
Her mind hadn’t changed. She still wanted him. Waaaay too much to sleep anywhere near him. “I’m going to be fine.” She rattled her keys and forced a smile. See? Look at me, all fine.
Reaching up, he flipped on the interior light of his car and leaned in. “Smile again.”
“What?” She shook her head. “Why?�
�
“Because I want to see if it’s real.”
“You don’t know me well enough to know what my real smile looks like.”
“Now, see, I think I do. Give it to me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen it.”
“When?”
“When I kissed you.” Unhooking her seat belt, he turned her to face him. Cupping her jaw, he slid his thumb over her lips. “When I kissed you, you smiled at me. Your eyes sparkled, and your face . . .” Still holding her, his lips curved. “It’s so beautiful it takes my breath.”
“You need your eyes checked.”
“And even with all that, you know what makes you the most attractive?”
“My sweet disposition?”
His dimple flashed. “Your sense of humor.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “The whole ‘she has a great personality’ kind of beautiful.”
He held her gaze. “Actually, that’s the best kind.” He tugged lightly on a strand of her hair, which she knew was so out-of-control frizzy from all the rain that she looked like a Q-tip head. “I bet you were a heartbreaker in high school.” The tips of his fingers continued to play with her hair, stroking it, smoothing it back from her face, and she had the shocking urge to stretch and purr like a kitten. Maybe even roll over and expose her belly for him to rub there too.
No. Bad Body. “I wasn’t much of a heartbreaker. We moved around a lot. I was more of a . . . sulker.”
“Why did you walk away, Dani? From your family? And, I’m assuming, a trust fund?”
“Why do you assume I walked away from a trust fund?”
“I’ve seen your apartment.”
She had to laugh. “Right. Well, my mother wasn’t always rich. And in those days, we didn’t exactly see eye to eye. I walked away before she married her money. And yeah, I could worm my way into the good finances now, I just don’t want to. I don’t want to live the socialite life, or date the right people, or be seen in the right clothes at the right places . . .” She lifted a shoulder, a little embarrassed to realize that she was opening up, with nothing more than a kind look and a touch to the face. “I want my own life.”
He smiled. And if she had to guess, she’d say it was one of his real smiles. “Like your job.”
“Like my job.”
He shook his head. “I’m trying to imagine you cleaning up elephant poop.”
“I do other things too. The food and water, the grooming. I keep their environment intact.”
He smiled, another real one.
“I supervise and record the animals’ activities so that we can understand the nuances in their behavior.”
“You evacuate poop.” He was teasing, but there was something else too. Awe.
He was impressed, which made her laugh. “I evacuate poop, and you fly planes. Who should be impressed here?”
“Definitely me.”
Modesty. That didn’t fit into the image she had of him. Or at least of the image she wanted to have of him. Turning, she looked at the sixteen-foot fence lining the zoo, the one that vanished into the hills surrounding the property.
Beyond that gate was her life.
Time to get to that life. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and noticed her car in the lot. “Hey, my car’s back.”
“I thought it was at the mechanic’s.”
“He must have brought it back for me, which means he fixed it for less than the two-hundred-dollar max I gave him.” She felt one of her real smiles crease her face. “Yay me. Thanks for the ride, Shayne. Thanks for everything.” She opened the car door.
“Dani—”
“It’s late. Go get some sleep.” And before he could say anything more, maybe kiss her again and make her melt and agree to sleep at his house, or maybe just give false promises neither of them could keep, she shut the door.
She missed the warmth immediately as she stepped out into the cold, misting night. And not just the car’s warmth, she could admit as she unlocked the gate and let herself in.
But Shayne’s warmth.
Shutting the gate behind her, she let herself look back. She couldn’t help it. Expecting to see the car’s taillights as Shayne drove back down the hill, she found the man instead.
Out of his car, standing on the other side of the gate, only a few feet away.
Watching her.
At her start of surprise, he lifted his hand.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Get out of the rain.”
“Soon as you do.”
She stepped back to the gate, gripping two wrought-iron stakes, putting her face up close as she contemplated him. “Shayne.”
“Dani.”
She laughed. A miracle in itself, that she could laugh on a night such as this.
He stepped up to the gate too. Put his hands over hers, his face close enough to kiss.
Ah, hell. She met him halfway, and then in unison, they both hesitated. It was only for a second, with their lips a fraction apart, but anticipation shot through her. She wanted to kiss him, God, she wanted that.
So much.
She couldn’t help it. So she leaned in and put her mouth on his through the wrought iron, her breath catching in surprise at the warm softness of his lips, at the scent of him, so familiar now. The surprise of that had her pulling back but his hands tightened over hers on the bars, holding her to him. Ah, damn. Damn, what a mistake, but her mouth clung to his, absorbing the promise in the stroke of his tongue against hers, so that she forgot to keep her head about her, so that she wished there wasn’t a barricade between them.
Remember this, she told herself. Remember the rasp of his rough chin against hers. His tongue in her mouth. The heat of his body a direct contrast to the chill of the bars. The dark, gloomy night all around them as their bodies strained to get closer, even closer. Remember, because this was it.
The last time.
The very last time.
Pulling back, his eyes sleepy and sexy—so damn sexy—his pleasure clearly etched on his face, he sent her a soft but baffled smile. “What was that for?”
She had no idea. None.
Zilch.
But oh, God, she wanted another. If he so much as mentioned his bed again, she was on it—
“Good night, Dani,” he said softly, and backed up.