Her Knight in Black Leather (Crimson Romance)

by Stewart, J. M.

  He had the most fantastic hands. Very masculine, wide-palmed and long-fingered, with a thick pad at the base of the thumb, yet his skin was uncalloused and silky smooth. It didn’t fit the untamed image he put out. In her experience, hands like these belonged on men who sat behind desks all day, who wore creased slacks and silk ties. The thought made Cat wonder what he did for a living. Then made her wonder how his hands would feel sliding over her skin …

  She shook off the thought and held her hands up in defeat. “Okay, you win. I was in over my head, and you bailed me out. I owe you one.”

  The corners of his mouth curled, satisfaction and gratification lighting his eyes.

  “So did you come for the band?”

  The bartender returned with his drink, and Michael nodded his thanks before turning back to her and looping his hand around the glass. “Nope. Just wanted a beer.” One shoulder hitched in a halfhearted fashion.

  She couldn’t help smiling. “Lucky for me you came in when you did.”

  “Lucky you.” He caught and held her gaze, his eyes heavy-lidded and soft, captivating her in the time it took to draw a shaky breath. Liquid and deep as pools, she had a feeling she could get lost in those eyes. The man had bedroom eyes, yet she found them oddly open and honest, as if he didn’t feel the need to hide behind pretenses. Yup, he’d definitely captivated dozens of women with those eyes and that smile. He was currently dazzling the panties clean off her.

  She gripped the stem of her glass with shaking fingers and twirled it over the countertop. Instinct said to get up and go find Lisa. Thoughts like those would get her into a world of trouble. They already had. She’d let them cloud her judgment, let her believe in Nick, in happily ever after. Now she knew the truth, didn’t she?

  Her heart twisted with the familiar pain, and the anger rose all over again. She heard Lisa’s voice again. “You can’t just sit here and wallow in self-pity, Cat. Get out, get back on that horse and prove to Nick you don’t need him.”

  She glanced over at Michael. He still watched her, but the heat from before had melted to something more somber. It wouldn’t hurt to sit and talk over drinks … would it?

  She raised her brows as she lifted her glass to her mouth and took a sip. “Are you staying for a while or just passing through? I can’t say I know everybody in town, but I’m pretty sure I’d remember you.”

  “Staying for a while. Came to visit family.” Something flashed in his eyes, a hint of something there and gone before she’d caught what it had been. “Just haven’t been back for a while.”

  His reaction nagged at the back of her mind. He seemed, for that moment, to close himself off. His body stiffened beside her, the mischievous spark that made him so dangerous and so sexy at the same time faded from his entire demeanor. Like the barest hint of a wound he couldn’t hide. Sitting there watching the heaviness suddenly hang over him made her wonder what coming to this town meant for him. It also gave her a sense of camaraderie with him. Coming back to town three years ago hadn’t been easy for her, either.

  She’d come to live with her father when she was sixteen and had quickly learned Crest Point was the kind of small town where everybody knew everybody else. Which meant everybody was in your business and people had certain expectations. It could be very quaint and charming. There were people here who would give their lives for each other. People also talked because they had nothing better to do. Living here always made her feel as if she lived in a fish bowl. She couldn’t hide. That was disconcerting.

  Had he come to the bar for the same reason she had — to escape from something? The conservative librarian in her insisted she ought to be getting up, but an overwhelming desire to engage him in conversation gripped her, if only to see that mischievous sparkle reach his eyes again.

  “So,” she lifted her glass and took a sip of her wine. “I’m assuming you just arrived in town then?”

  He turned his head, seemed to study her a moment, then nodded. “Came straight from the highway.”

  “Where from?”

  “Los Angeles.”

  Surprised, she raised her brows. “That’s a long drive. You must be tired.”

  He shrugged, relaxed and unapologetic. “Took my time, drove up the coast.”

  The simple statement told her a lot about him. Namely that he wasn’t in too much of a hurry to appreciate the beauty of nature. On the surface they seemed so different, yet here they actually had something in common. “There are some beautiful beaches along that route. Some of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen, too.”

  Surprise lit in his eyes, his brows rising. “You’ve driven it?”

  She nodded. “When I was thirteen. My mother and I moved from L.A. to Seattle.”

  One of the more pleasant memories she had of her childhood and the woman who raised her.

  “Something in common.” He murmured the words, awe and amusement in his voice. His posture relaxed, a warmth filling his eyes that had triumph surging in her chest. He took a sip of his beer. “So where’s your friend?”

  “Oh, Lisa deserted me for a guy with big biceps.” She leaned over, managed to actually find Lisa in the crowd packed on the dance floor, and pointed her out. “See the girl in the tight red number? That would be my date for this evening. See the guy with her? The guy you chased off would’ve been just her style. Frankly, I’d leave, but I promised her I’d at least try to have a good time. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

  She sighed and leaned her face into her hand.

  Did she sound as pathetic as she felt? “You’re right. I normally spend my Saturday nights curled up with a good book. The whole bar scene really isn’t my thing. It’s a tad overwhelming, actually. The music is a little too loud, the beat makes my head pound, and the sheer number of bodies makes me slightly claustrophobic.”

  She’d sat at the bar, because here the crowd thinned out, and she didn’t have to shout in order to be heard. It was pathetic, really. She was twenty-five going on forty. This type of scene ought to be exactly what someone her age should be into. She’d always felt older than her age.

  “So, if you’re supposed to be having fun, why aren’t you out there dancing?” He raised a brow in a playful challenge.

  She shot him a wry smile. “Oh that’s easy — I chickened out. I feel like a fish out of water here. Lisa got up to dance, but I haven’t been able to be quite so bold.” She shook her head. “Dancing alone just feels pathetic.”

  His eyes narrowed. He sat studying her so long and intensely, she fidgeted under the heat of his gaze, clasped her trembling hands, and toyed with her napkin. It made her wonder what he saw, made her feel like that fish in the bowl again, and the wallflower within her wanted to suddenly become one with the floor.

  When he slid off his stool and rose to his feet beside her, her heart sank. Great. The only interesting man she’d met all night, and she’d managed to scare him off by being her boring, geeky self.

  “Dance with me.”

  At the sound of his voice, she jerked her head in his direction, unable to stop the surprise that bounced around inside her chest. He’d taken off his jacket, left it sitting on the stool and held a hand out in silent invitation. The softness in his eyes all but invited her to accept.

  Lisa’s voice echoed in her head. “Get out and live a little, Cat. Be somebody you’re not.” Lisa was right. What could one dance hurt?

  When she slipped her hand into his, he smiled then took her other and gently pulled her to her feet. For a moment, they stood regarding each other, those dark eyes hooded, full of a mysterious something that made her shiver again with that overwhelming sense of awareness. Had her mind bringing his kiss screaming to the surface again, and had her suddenly dying for another taste. She didn’t appear to be alone in that feeling, either, for his gaze dropped, hunger flaring in his eyes �
� subdued, but there all the same.

  A heartbeat later, he released her hand and turned, leading her silently through the throng of people toward the middle of the dance floor. The song the band played shifted, and the strains of a softer, sultrier rhythm filled the room. People around them paired off. Her nerves jumped. In about two seconds he was going to pull her into his arms. She’d get to feel that long, hard body against hers, and every delicious sensation seemed to head south, pooling between her thighs.

  Michael didn’t wrap his arms around her waist the way she expected, however. Instead, one hand came to rest at the small of her back as he tugged her against him. His other hand clasped hers and held them tucked against his chest.

  The formal dance position threw her off balance again and contradicted the untamed image he portrayed. It hinted at more surprises beneath the surface and, heaven help her, she yearned to uncover each and every one of them, to find the man beneath the mask.

  Some part of her mind screamed a warning. Was she insane? She’d only just met this man. She didn’t do these sorts of things. This was Lisa’s style, not hers. Never mind her engagement with Nick had only barely ended. The last thing she needed was to get involved again so soon.

  Michael overwhelmed her senses. His presence commanded attention. She suspected wherever he went, he stood out in the crowd. Not because of anything he said or did, but simply because of the confident way he carried himself. Like he didn’t care what other people thought. Yet there was an open honesty about him that completely disarmed her.

  Exactly what she shouldn’t trust.

  At the moment, with his strong body and all those muscles pressed against her, she couldn’t remember her name let alone why this was a bad idea. He held her so close her breasts brushed the solid wall of his chest. His muscular thighs glided against hers as they moved to the soft music. His scent — a mixture of soap and leather and something all male — enveloped her, filling her lungs in a heady rush every time she inhaled. For that moment, she felt … wrapped in him. A place she suddenly yearned to be.

  “So, who was it that broke your heart and sent you to a place like this to try to forget?” His voice came as a quiet hum in her ear, his breath warm against the sensitive lobe, sending tiny tremors down her spine. She didn’t fare any better when she pulled back to see his eyes. Those dark, liquid pools simmered with the desire pulsing through her. Yet something about them radiated an honest warmth that set her at ease.

  “You’re very perceptive.”

  “Been there.” He shrugged a shoulder in dismissal, but his eyes held truth. Someone had broken his heart once. The knowledge was yet another piece of him that seeped inside and gave her that sense of companionship.

  “I caught my fiancé with his assistant in his office. He was also my boss. I threw his ring in his face and quit my job. Just thinking about that day makes me angry all over again. I’d forgotten my purse and went back in, found him with his pants down around his ankles. They hadn’t even bothered to close his office door.”

  She lowered her gaze to the floor, the flush of humiliation heating her cheeks. How could she have been so naïve, so blind? Nick was from one of the most prominent families in town — wealthy, powerful. She’d been nothing but a plaything to him, a jaunt. A year of her life wasted.

  “His loss, if you ask me.” Michael’s voice rumbled low and husky beside her ear. Yanked from her thoughts, she refocused on the man who held her. A man whose intense gaze made her feel like the only woman in the room. Something, she admitted belatedly, Nick hadn’t ever made her feel.

  A warm smile tugged at the corners of Michael’s mouth. He winked. “But my gain.”

  As she stared up at him, it hit her. Her heart thundered in her ears, threatened to pound right out of her chest. Lisa was right. It was time to stop living in the shadows. Tonight she wanted freedom. That’s what Michael represented — a chance at freedom. With him, she didn’t have to pretend or worry what people would say. She could just be … Cat. Even if all they did was dance.

  Allowing herself the moment, she hesitantly pressed close and leaned her head against his chest. His arm tightened around her waist and enveloped her in his powerful embrace — an altogether disturbing place to be, simply because it felt so natural, so comfortable. The man filled her with warmth and set her at ease. The longer they swayed to the soft music, the more his arms were exactly where she wanted to be.

  “You don’t dance like a man who rides a motorcycle.”

  “How’d you know I ride?” His voice rumbled through his chest, his heart hammering beneath her ear, telling her she wasn’t the only one affected by their proximity.

  She lifted her head, peering up at him. “Lucky guess.”

  “Have you ever ridden?” Something intense flashed in his eyes.

  She nodded. “Once, when I was little. My mother’s boyfriend. We crashed, and I broke my arm.” She shuddered at the memory. She spent a week in the hospital afterward. They were beautiful machines, and she’d never forgotten the joy and freedom of riding, but the sight of one still made her hesitate. “Had a fear of them ever since.”

  He went silent, for so long she swore she heard the wheels of his mind turning. Finally, he leaned his head beside her ear. “You’d be safe with me.” He whispered the words, his lips moving against her sensitive earlobe, sending shivers down her spine.

  His words inspired the images: seated behind him, her entire front pressed intimately against his back. If she closed her eyes, she could feel all of his muscles as she wound her arms around him and held on tight. The thrill of the wind in her hair, the engine beneath her, and a gorgeous man to cling to …

  Those dark eyes once again caught and held her a willing prisoner. “Is that a promise?”

  He shook his head, his gaze simmering with the promise of the moment. “No. I could just as easily get sideswiped by some idiot on a cell phone. Have, actually. Sometimes you have to be willing to take a chance. If you don’t, then you’re not really living.”

  A tremor ran through her, a mixture of fear and excitement racing up her spine at the familiar words. It had to be a sign.

  Everything she’d ever learned growing up screamed at her to tell him no. This wasn’t her. She normally would never do something as daring this, and Michael wasn’t normally her type. But wasn’t that the point? To be someone else for the night? To be free?

  Michael tugged her imperceptibly closer. “Take a ride with me, Cat.”

  His tone all but begged her to say yes. His gaze burned into hers. Was he pondering the thought of her clinging to his back like a second skin? The feel of her hands holding him close?

  Another shiver slid down her spine, this one pooling warm and delicious in her belly. “I’d love to.”

  Chapter Two

  “Here, put this on.”

  Standing with Cat on the edge of the sidewalk outside the bar, Michael Brant slid his jacket from his shoulders and extended it to her. For early June, it was a balmy night, warmer than usual, and the sky was clear. A perfect night for a ride. The town was quiet; the only noise came from the pounding music behind them.

  “In case we crash.” Cat eyed his jacket as he closed the small distance between them, and although she offered a teasing smile, a distinct hint of fear sparked in her eyes.

  Beautiful jade eyes framed by long, dark lashes that made her appear every bit as exotic as the scent clinging to her skin. Subtle yet powerful all the same, the fragrance reminded him of warmed spices. Something about it made him want to bury his face in her neck.

  That scent and those eyes. He’d been hooked the minute she turned around on that barstool. Instead of heading to the back of the club to find his older brother, the way he’d intended, he hung around. He’d come to Roadie’s to get the low-down from Gabe before he had to head to the hospital in the morning. He wanted t
o know what he was walking into before he went to see his father. Then he’d collided with the unchecked desire in those gorgeous eyes. Had felt it in her kiss. He hadn’t been able to resist their temptation.

  “You have a little too much skin showing for my taste.” As he swung the jacket around behind her and set it on her shoulders, he offered a reassuring smile. “’Course, it’d make me feel a lot better if you were wearing pants, but we’ll make do with what we’ve got.” He winked, hoping to set her at ease, earning himself a soft smile that lit up those eyes.

  “If I’d known I was going for a ride with you when I left the house tonight, I might have worn jeans.” She shoved her arms through the sleeves, a conspiratorial sparkle in her eyes, then turned to his bike. Head bent, she walked the length from the rear fender to the front wheel, dragging her fingers along the hills and valleys of leather and metal.

  Michael’s gut knotted as he watched her. The sight of her in his jacket tugged at something deep inside. It swamped her small, slender form and hung clear past her rump. Her hands had gotten lost in the sleeves, but it looked oddly right on her. Some part of him insisted he shouldn’t be here with her. He didn’t need any more complications right now. He’d come home to put his past to rest, and he didn’t need any distractions while he was here.

  As Cat rounded the front fender and stepped off the curb into the street, she tossed a smile over her shoulder. “You have a nice bike, Michael.”

  On anybody else, that look might have been an obvious flirt, a woman teasing, playing coy. On her it was simple and honest.

  Which summed up what about her caught him like a fish on a hook. She had a sweet, innocent quality about her. Most women would have decked that guy in the bar, but Cat appeared to be out of her element. He’d bet money she was loyal and soft-hearted, the kind of woman a man found waiting for him when he came home at night. Whatever her motive for being here with him, she didn’t appear to be playing games. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had been straight up with him. Which made her irresistible.