Aunie was emotionally drained, however, and she refused to rise to the bait. “Yeah,” she agreed softly to James’s dismay. “I’m feelin’ extremely sorry for myself. It’s been a hard day, James,” she said propping her chin in her hand and staring lethargically at him across the table. “I’ll pull myself together tomorrow, all right? For today, though, I think I’ll just indulge in a little self-pity.”
Her exhaustion was evident, and Lola pushed her chair back from the table. “Maybe we should go, James,” she said. “As she said, it’s been a hard day. Let the woo-mon get some rest”
James didn’t budge. “You go ahead, Lola,” he said, his chin still firmly planted on his muscular forearms stacked atop the back of the chair he was straddling. “I’ll head back to my place in a sec.”
Aunie rose from her chair and accompanied Lola to the door. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if… well, you’ve helped immensely just by being here, is all. I don’t feel quite so alone now. And thank you, too, for dinner.”
“It was your food, Aunie. I merely cooked it.”
“Nevertheless,” Aunie replied firmly. “If not for your efforts, I probably wouldn’t have eaten at all and the meal really helped. I’m grateful.”
Lola inclined her head. “Then you are welcome.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “I know it is easier said than done, but try not to worry. If this mad Wesley mon should ever track you to Seattle, Otis and James will see to it that no harm come to you.” She cocked her head in James’s direction. “James, he talk a tough game, but takin’ care of people is in his blood.”
James, who was brooding in his chair, didn’t hear, which was probably just as well. He still tended to get a bit touchy when the subject of his multitudinous responsibilities was raised. The low-toned conversation by the door didn’t register, however. He was busy staring at Aunie’s back and stewing over her unexpected defeatist attitude.
He didn’t like it. She was a fighter not a quitter; she’d made that abundantly clear the very first day they’d met. Yeah, so, all right, maybe she had every right to feel sorry for herself tonight, but what the hell good would it do her? Angst was an emotion with which he had little patience. It never got anyone anywhere and the thought of her spending the rest of the evening paralyzed with fear because of that gold-plated psycho made his teeth grind.
He knew Aunie was terrified at the thought, but he almost wished old Wesley would show up. He wouldn’t be averse to an opportunity to demonstrate exactly how it felt to be mercilessly beaten by someone larger and stronger, which he assumed he was. Hell, if he wasn’t, Otis was sure to be. And while the gentleness of Otis’s nature would surprise a hell of a lot of people who never bothered to look beyond outward appearances, he did possess a temper. It just took a lot to bring it out; but knowing something like this had been done to someone as small and helpless as Aunie would do the trick.
James tugged on his ponytail and frowned. Fantasies of beating Aunie’s ex to a pulp were all very warming, but they didn’t do a thing to address the immediate problem—which was how the hell he was going to shake her out of her depression. Then a creative idea occurred to him, and a lopsided smile tugged up one corner of his mouth.
It was a sacrifice on his part, of course, but what the hell. Someone had to do something to prevent her from brooding all night long. As Aunie closed the door behind Lola and turned back into the room, James stood. He didn’t understand why a small ripple of excitement should slither up his spine, so he ignored it.
“Oh,” she said as she walked back into the dining area and saw him turning his chair back into its proper position. “Are you leaving, too?”
“Yeah. I’ve still got an hour or two’s worth of drawing that needs to be done tonight.”
There was a part of Aunie that wanted only to be left alone. She craved a measure of solitude in which to curl up and hug her fear to her breast. There was another tangled emotion, however, that clamored with disappointment that he was leaving. She kept remembering the safety she had felt when he’d held her in his arms and let her cry out her fear and rage. God, except for those brief moments, it had been so long since anyone had held or hugged her. Then she admonished herself to grow up. It was your own damn desire for independence, she reminded herself dully, that led to this mess with Wesley in the first place. Let James go. Then you can indulge in a nice, long bout of self-pity. “I’ll walk you to the door,” she offered softly. After all, he’s already given you a large chunk of his time, and this from a man who doesn’t want to know about your problems.
They were at the door when James suddenly turned to her. He knew his height was only average, but standing this close to her he felt as oversized as Otis. For some reason, her lack of stature continually took him by surprise.
He gave himself a mental shake. So, okay. Forget her size and get on with it. Keep it gentle and friendly so no one gets hurt, and maybe it’ll help put a dent in that damned lethargy enshrouding her. James’s mouth tilted up on one side as he looked down at her. “Just so your day won’t be a total loss,” he said smoothly, “I’ve decided to give you some pointers in kissing after all.” His smile turned to a full fledged grin at the stupefied look on her face, then to outright laughter. He reached for her.
Aunie realized her mouth was hanging open in pure surprised reaction and closed it with a snap. She dodged his hands. What on earth was he up to? He reached again, still grinning like an idiot, and she slapped his hands down. Irritation started to surface. This hadn’t been the best day of her life and she truly didn’t think she cared to wrap it up by being the butt of his joke. Aunie looked him over with a jaundiced eye. “Well, lucky, lucky me,” she muttered sarcastically. “What brought on this sudden change of heart? Remember me? I’m the novice who’s too fragile.” She invested the word with the same disgust she might have used to say socially diseased.
“I guess I’ll just have to exercise a little care.”
Aunie bristled and said nastily, “What, no Blue Plate Special?” Was he still harboring that absurd fantasy that she couldn’t withstand a kiss? The man persisted in being insulting.
“Ryder Special.” He was beginning to get a little irritated. He was only doing this for her.
“Whatever.” She shrugged. “In any case, thanks, but no thanks. I’m not in the mood.”
James forgot he was supposed to be friendly and gentle and reverted to type. He snorted. “No, wait, let me see if I’ve got this straight. Looking-for-a-hot-affair Franklin is not in the mood? I-want-passion Aunie—not in the mood? Get real. You know you’re dying of curiosity.”
Aunie’s depression was fading fast as hot anger rushed in to take its place. Color burned high in her cheekbones and her dark eyes flashed fire at him. “Gawd, but you’re arrogant,” she snapped. “If y’ think you’re such a damn good kisser, then hadn’t you better employ a little caution? What if I get hooked? Did you consider that? Why, I could start hauntin’ your apartment day and night, shadowin’ your evra footstep, beggin’ for more and more and more kisses. You might never get another moment’s peace as long as you live. …”
James laughed and reached out to snag her arms. He forced them behind her back and jerked her up against him, his blood running hot and furious through his veins. “Don’t take it so seriously, Magnolia. This is just a little therapy between friends.”
“Oh, so now we’re friends? Mercy me. And here I thought we were just casual acquaintances.”
“Whatever.” He spread his legs, pulling her between them, and bent his knees to bring his face on a level with hers. Securing her wrists behind her back in one long-fingered hand, he reached up with his free hand and grasped a handful of her silky hair, tilting her head back. “I don’t like the idea of your spending the night all depressed and feeling sorry for yourself, so I decided I’d give you something else to think about. Maybe it’ll take your mind off Wesley.”
Rage exploded in Aunie’s st
omach. “Why, you dirty, rotten, low-down son of a bitch!”
“Oh, yeah, talk dirty to me,” James mocked her and his face creased engagingly as he grinned. Then his head bent and his mouth slanted across hers, cutting off her tirade. His tongue, hot, supple, and insistent, thrust into her mouth. Aunie bucked in his hold, but James simply jerked her hands warningly, pressing them into the small of her back. Knowing she was outmatched physically, she tried next to expel his tongue from her mouth with a hard jab of her own, and the kiss abruptly changed nature.
The sudden damp slide of Aunie’s tongue against James’s made them both inhale sharply, simultaneously. Moss green eyes impaled dark brown ones and all was still for one second … two seconds …
Then awareness of the transferral of individual flavors that passed from tongue to tongue intruded into their heightened senses, and what had been an urge to tease her out of her lethargy on his part, disillusioned anger on hers, suddenly exploded into a mutual conflagration of passion.
Aunie’s objection to James’s kiss was driven entirely out of her mind. Her eyes slid shut and her breathing quickened as she rose up on tiptoe to strain closer. She had never felt anything quite like this in her life. His mouth was hot; his tongue was aggressive as it pumped and withdrew with a repetitive, suggestively sexual rhythm, and ah, Gawd, he was so warm and hard.
James released her captured wrists; he widened his stance, and his newly freed hand slid inside the waistband of her jeans, fingers splaying across the small of her back. Unadulterated lust drove any semblance of gentleness from his kiss. His teeth scraped her lips … his mouth sucked strongly… his tongue speared inside her again and again.
Breathing choppily, Aunie looped an arm across his broad shoulder and grasped his ponytail in one small fist. Her breasts flattened against his chest, and the fingers of her left hand slid up the length of his neck to splay across his jaw and cheek. His skin was hot and slightly rough with evening stubble.
James lifted his mouth fractionally to change the angle of the kiss and Aunie shuddered when he suddenly sucked her finger into his mouth. His eyes, heavy-lidded and not entirely focused, stared blindly into hers as he drew strongly on the small, white digit in his mouth, then his eyelids fell shut and he groaned. His thighs tightened around her hips; his fingers dug into the heated flesh just above her bottom, and he thrust his pelvis with demanding urgency against hers.
Aunie dragged her finger from his mouth and grasped the back of his neck, pulling his mouth back to hers.
“Oh God, you taste good,” he said in a hoarse voice and then drove her head back with the force of his kiss.
His hands left her hair, slipped out of her jeans, and closed around her waist. He suddenly straightened his legs, surging to his full height while synchronously hoisting her in the air. He pressed her back against the door and crowded up against her, pinning her in place with his body. Aunie drew a sharp breath of surprise and clutched at him for balance. Her feet dangled off the floor and instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles behind his back. James’s hands slid down to her hips, then edged around to grasp her buttocks. He was aware of the way his big hands nearly swallowed up her little butt, but the rounded flesh under the worn denim beneath his hands was surprisingly sturdy, warm, and resilient. He positioned her to align the heavy denim seam over her mound with the hard length of his erection and then slowly pumped his hips. She sighed deep in her throat and arched her hips, widening the spread of her thighs.
His mouth twisted over the soft fullness of hers as he turned his head to come at her from another direction. He was on the edge of control and the force of his mouth pushed the back of her head against the door. Christ, he wanted her; oh, Christ, he wanted to peel those damn jeans that were obstructing the access he desired right down to her ankles and …
Christ. What the fuck are you doing?
Sanity didn’t creep back softly into James’s consciousness; it exploded like a grenade. He ripped his mouth away from her soft, clinging lips and tightened his hands convulsively around her bottom, jerking her away from the rigid proof of his arousal to the safer territory of his waist. His forehead dropped next to her head with a dull thud as it hit the solid panel of the door, and he ground it slowly back and forth while he attempted to control his ragged breathing and pounding heart. Oh God. How was he going to extricate himself from this fiasco he’d created?
Aunie was wondering the same thing. She knew the highly erotic explosiveness of this unanticipated little session against the door had affected James every bit as much as it had her. She also knew, however, that right this minute he was most likely flaying himself alive for starting something with the little novice down the hall. He was probably scared to death that she’d start expecting all manner of attention from him. Well, he needn’t worry, for she knew perfectly well that she wasn’t really his type. She should; God knows he had made a point of telling her often enough.
As he lowered her slowly to the floor and stepped back, it flashed through Aunie’s mind that by kissing her at all, he had, in his own unique fashion, been trying to be her friend. He had made his position crystal clear on more than one occasion; yet he’d violated his own ironclad code and kissed her anyway. It had aggravated her almost beyond bearing when he’d bragged he’d take her mind off today’s stressful events, but by God, she had to hand it to him. He had done just that.
It was only fair then, that in return, she should at least attempt to spare him any discomfort that resulted from his impulsive action. James’s methods might be different from most people’s, but she supposed his heart was in the right place—just look at the way he and Lola had shown up here today and taken care of her. She’d been practically catatonic before their arrival.
Oh, Gawd, she had to do something! It was a singular moment of passion that had gotten out of control, and that was all it was. Somehow, she had to let them both off the hook so they could run into each other in the hall without embarrassment.
Hoping her legs wouldn’t collapse beneath her, she pushed away from the door. James was standing a few feet away, head down and hands awkwardly stuffed in the pockets of his Levi’s. Dull color stained his cheekbones, and he still hadn’t said a word. Aunie shook back her hair and took a deep breath, silently expelling it. Submerging the final vestige of her embarrassment and praying her voice would not emerge in a croak, she said, “So, okay, you’re a moderately good kisser. But I thought you promised me addictive.”
James’s head jerked up. Aunie was regarding him from a few feet away, her hands on her hips, an eyebrow elevated, and her mouth cocked in a wry smile. Relief creased his face into its familiar, quirky lines and his teeth flashed white as he grinned back at her. Oh thank God, she hadn’t taken it seriously. He had messed up royally this time and he’d been at a dead loss how to rectify the situation. What had seemed like a platinum idea at the time had climbed so far beyond his control, so damned fast, he hadn’t had a clue how to salvage it.
But she had done it. She’d dispelled the awkwardness and simultaneously let him know she didn’t expect anything from him.
He nudged her with his elbow. “C’mon, admit it. It was the best you’ve ever had.”
Oh Gawd, it was. But that would just have to be her secret. Palm down, thumb slightly elevated, she rocked her hand from side to side, signifying she’d had better.
“Well, hell,” he muttered in mock irritation, “I’ve been insulted by better folk; I don’t have to take this from you, too.” Then he dropped the facade and looked down at her seriously. “You gonna be okay, Magnolia?”
“Yeah.” She reached out and lightly touched his arm. “Thank you for all you did for me today.” She prayed she wasn’t blushing as she got a quick mental flash of what all had entailed.
She forced the image from her mind. “You and Lola really helped me over a rough spot tonight, and I appreciate it … I mean that.”
James shifted with obvious discomfort and she
gave him a slight push toward the door. “G’on. I know you have work to do tonight, and I’ve gotta tuck in the boys.”
James snorted at the thought of her gallery wall of half-naked men. “You’ll understand if I don’t have you give ‘em all a good night kiss from me.” He opened the door, but just stood looking down at her for a moment. Finally, he said, “G’night, Aunie.”
“Good night, James. Sweet dreams.”
She shut the door behind his departing back and leaned back against it. She had a sinking feeling she shouldn’t have added that last bit.
Between the news of Wesley’s acquittal and James’s life-altering kiss, it was going to be difficult enough falling asleep tonight. She was afraid she knew exactly whom her dreams would feature—supposing she had any—and it was the absolute last thing in the world that she needed.
Why did the most passionate kiss she had ever received in her life have to have come from him?
CHAPTER 6
James had had an excellent brain long before he ever developed brawn. He thought perhaps that was how he had come to be saddled with responsibility for his family.
It certainly wasn’t because he was the oldest. Hell, except for Will, he was the youngest of the four Ryder brothers. But his wit was quick, his tongue was facile, and his methods, while unorthodox, were effective, and by the time he was sixteen years old, he’d found himself locked into a seemingly perpetual custodianship of his brothers’ problems.
A prototype of behavior had already emerged: His brothers got themselves into trouble and James promptly maximized whatever tools he had at his disposal to bail them out. For a kid lacking financial means, who hailed from an area where power was not endemic, his tools were astonishingly functional. He utilized his native intelligence, his offbeat sense of humor, an ability to think on his feet, and—as he grew older—his rough language and the reputation he had gained on the street for being unpredictable and maybe just a little bit crazy. Folks never knew quite how to take it when James Ryder smiled and made those bizarre remarks that a person couldn’t help laughing at; not when in the next breath he could spout the meanest obscenities they’d ever heard and appear perfectly willing to slit the throat of anyone who got between him and the accomplishment of his objectives.
Present Danger Page 9