by Lori Foster
Grinning, she skipped to keep up with his long-legged stride. “Then you already knew—”
He held her jean jacket while she slipped it back on, causing her thoughts to jumble. It was a first for her, that small courtesy, and it amused her that even while he was so obviously irritated with her, his unrelenting manners came through.
She leaned back against him as he settled the coat over her shoulders, and he jumped away, grumbling, cautioning her “Charlie… ”.
“Hmm?”
He frowned, blinked at her, then shook his head. “Come on, let’s get going.”
Charlie had to hide a smile. He fought her, but he was tempted. Maybe she’d be able to work on that.
Looking decidedly perturbed, Harry pulled on a suit coat, then his raincoat. The dogs stirred themselves enough to look up as Harry said goodbye to them, then they went back to sleeping peacefully. He led her out the door, locking it behind him.
“So, Harry, you did know about the visit Ralph and Floyd have planned?”
“Of course I knew. I’m the P.I., if you’ll recall.”
“Well, I only found out late last night from a regular. When I went in to close the bar, I overheard two guys talking and I recognized part of what they said. I asked a few questions and found out Ralph and Floyd have been trying to drum up some assistance.”
Harry led her to his car and opened her door. “You shouldn’t be asking questions, Charlie. What if it gets back to Ralph or Floyd and they figure out where you live? Is that what you want?”
“Of course not. I’m not an idiot, I know what to say and not say. I was careful.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word careful.” He looked at her long and hard, then touched her cheek. “I don’t want to have to worry about you.”
Contentment bubbled up inside her. “I don’t want to worry about you either, Harry. That’s why I thought it’d be nice if we did this together. I mean, considering you’re so squeamish about actually hurting anyone.” And it’d give her a good excuse to spend more time alone with him.
He dropped his hand and sighed. “Get in the car, Charlie.”
“I brought my own transportation. Will you drive me back here?” She’d almost taken the bus today, then realized leaving her truck behind would provide a good excuse to return to his apartment. Her plans weren’t exactly orthodox, but then, neither was she.
Her life had never been easy, and she’d learned to be hard and brazen and forceful by necessity, to take care of her mother, to protect her sister. Now, for the first time that she could ever remember, she really wanted a man. She didn’t know how to deal with that except to give it her best shot.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, cursed softly, then asked, “I don’t suppose you’ll go on home and let me take care of things?”
“Ha! Don’t be stupid, Harry.”
“No, I didn’t think so. All right, yes. I’ll bring you back here. But Charlie, promise me you’ll do as I tell you. I don’t want to drag you along only so you can act recklessly again and end up hurt.”
She slid into the stupendous car with the butter-soft leather seats and the smell of money. “I’m never reckless. Quit worrying. You’re starting to sound like Jill.”
He slammed her car door.
They were five minutes on the road before Charlie said, “All right. Are you waiting for me to beg or what?”
He glanced at her, clearly distracted.
“Harry, what did you find out about my father?”
“Oh, sorry. My mind wandered.”
“Where did it wander to?”
He stared hard at the road. “Never mind. Besides, you seemed so disinterested, I wasn’t sure you even cared.”
She scooted closer to him. “Didn’t you sleep well, Harry? You’re awfully snide today.”
“I slept fine for the short time I had in bed.”
Very casually, she touched his thigh. It was hard and warm and the muscles flinched under her palm. She smiled. “Now who’s lying?”
He growled, gripped the wheel, then blurted, “By all accounts, your father didn’t abandon you.”
That was not what she’d been expecting to hear. She was so surprised, she sat back on her own side of the seat, releasing Harry. The old resentment rose to the surface, and her tone was sharper than she intended when she said, “No? He had amnesia and forgot he had children? He was taken prisoner in a foreign country and only just got free? It’s been eighteen years since I’ve seen him or heard from him, Harry. I’d pretty much call that abandoned.”
Harry sighed, then incredibly, reached for her hand. “Honey, he tried to find you. He really did.”
He called her honey. She felt all warm and mushy inside again. Clearing her throat, she asked, “How do you know that?”
“He’s worked at that same jewelry store for some time now, so a lot of the other proprietors are familiar with him. Many of them told me he’s spent years looking for his daughters, that even now he hasn’t given up hope of finding you.”
She tried to pull her hand away, but he held her tight. “Charlie, he cares about you and Jill.”
Charlie swallowed down the unfamiliar lump of emotion in her throat. Even if what he said was true, it didn’t matter. “Concern and caring from a father back when I… I had to work two jobs and my mother was so sick and Jill got cheated out of Christmas twice would have been real nice. But I don’t care anymore about that. All I want from him now is enough money to get Jill through college. Does he have money, Harry?” Harry sighed, and she snapped, “Oh, stop that! You’re forever sighing, like you’re so put-upon whenever we’re together.”
He fought a smile. “I’m sorry. I suppose it’s just that I expected that answer from you, and I’ll admit I’m disappointed. Charlie, your father can’t help it if your mother took off and he couldn’t find you.”
She snorted. “How hard did he try? True, we moved around a lot. I remember that, mostly because it made it so damn difficult for me to get Jill settled. But even so, a single woman with two children should be easy enough to track down. The school records alone—”
“Did you go to public schools?”
“Yeah, well… come to think of it, we almost always settled in real small towns.”
“How small?”
She forced a casual shrug. “Almost nonexistent. The schools were independently run by the townsfolk, since there usually wasn’t more than a handful of kids attending.” She felt a twinge of doubt, but ruthlessly shoved it aside. She would not be suckered that easily. Dalton Jones had a lot to account for. “We chose small towns because the housing was generally cheaper, not because it was a good way to hide!” She hated her own feelings of defensiveness, and added, “It made finding an after-school job almost impossible. At least, until I got older.”
His large thumb brushed over her knuckles, gently, soothing. “Where did you work, Charlie?”
She stared at their linked hands and marvelled that such a simple touch could make her feel so funny. Funny in a very nice way. “When I was twelve, I got a job helping out at a market stand. It was seasonal, but I loved it. Being outside, meeting so many people. And I didn’t have to dress up. In one town, my mom got me a job helping this old lady out at her boutique. I hated it. She expected me to wear dresses.”
Harry laughed. “You’re not into female frippery?”
“Can you imagine me in a dress, Harry? It’s ridiculous.” She stupidly blushed just thinking about it. But whenever she talked about that time of her life, she felt vulnerable. She’d been out of her element, and it had been the first time she’d realized just how different she was, and what a disappointment she was to her mother.
He sobered, then pulled up to a red light. “I think you’d look very nice in a dress, but no more so than you do in those snug jeans.”
Her heartbeat tripped. “You… uh, like my jeans?”
He kept his gaze deliberately on the road. “You’re very attractive, Charlie, regardl
ess of what you’re wearing. Surely men tell you that often?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I work in a bar, Harry. Men tell me a lot of things, but I don’t pay much attention to slurred words and suggestive innuendo.”
“Will you pay attention to me?”
She felt flushed and drew a slow deep breath. “Since you haven’t been drinking all day, and your words are coherent, then sure. I suppose so.”
He looked undecided for a moment, then turned to face her. “You’re beautiful.” Their gazes locked, and Charlie felt drawn in, surrounded by his attention. His hand released hers, but then lifted to her cheek. He smoothed the back of his knuckles over her cheekbone in a very tender gesture, tucked a curl behind her ear. She could get very used to being touched so tenderly. “You don’t need any frills to turn a man on, Charlie.”
“Really?”
He continued to touch her, small touches that elicited so many feelings. “I think you’re one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met.”
“Then… ”
“But I’m not going to get involved with you. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. Okay?”
“No.”
“Charlie—”
She laughed, because he looked so frustrated. She decided a dose of honesty couldn’t hurt. “I want you, Harry, That’s pretty unique for me, so I can’t just forget about it. Besides, I’m used to fighting for what I want.” When his eyes nearly crossed, she said, “Go ahead and sigh if you really need to, but it won’t change anything. Consider yourself forewarned.”
A horn blared, prompting Harry to drive now that the light was green. He shook his head, then chuckled as he stepped on the gas. “Only you, Charlie, could make a seduction sound like a threat.”
She lifted her nose and tried for a seductive look. He didn’t laugh, so she considered herself more successful than not. “I prefer to think of it as a promise, Harry.”
Harry felt strung too tight. It was absolute torture, sitting next to Charlie while knowing she was smugly plotting his salacious downfall. He could tell by the way her dark blue eyes slanted in his direction every so often, or the way she looked him over, as if sizing him up for a meal. It was possibly the most erotic thing that had ever happened to him.
And he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
He shouldn’t have shored up her confidence by admitting he found her sexy. But he couldn’t help himself. The second she started speaking of her past, she’d looked… uncertain, not her normal indomitable self. Her eyes, usually so forthright, had filled with reserve and he’d wanted nothing more than to reassure her.
Now she knew he was susceptible to her, and he could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
He needed a distraction, but he was hesitant to pursue the topic of her father. Maybe after she considered things, she’d soften just a bit. She was bullheaded, but not cruel. He decided on the next order of business. “Are you at all nervous about seeing Ralph or Floyd again?”
She gave him a double take. “Nervous?”
“Yes. It would make sense, you know. Yesterday was fairly tempestuous, what with being kidnapped and held at gunpoint.”
Strangely enough, her expression softened. “We were shot at, too.”
“Yes.”
Suddenly she scooted closer and hugged herself up to his right arm. “Harry, I think it’s wonderful that you’re still determined to protect those old people despite being scared.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. As you said, yesterday wasn’t easy. It even rattled me a little.”
“Well, gee. That makes me feel so much better.”
She patted his shoulder. Then rubbed. Then squeezed. “You have very nice muscles, Harry.”
“Stop that!” Her voice had gone all throaty and warm. “Return to your own seat and put on your seat belt.”
“Sheesh. I was only trying to—”
“Comfort me? This may come as a shock to you, Charlie, but I wasn’t unduly upset by what happened. I was, in fact, mostly just concerned for you.”
“What? Now why would you be worried about me?”
“Why, indeed?”
Her lip curled and she gave him a look fraught with disgust. “Because I’m female?”
Hiding a smile, he added, “And small. It’s the truth, honey, you’re on the… short side.”
She stretched out her spine, managing to look an inch taller. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
Now she looked more inclined to punch him than kiss him. He felt relief—and other things he didn’t even want to ponder. “My wife was a small woman. Not as small as you, but still considered petite. She hated it that I chose to be a P.I. In fact, she flatly refused to have anything to do with it.”
“How could she be married to an investigator and not have anything to do with it?”
“Ah. Good question.”
“Oh, you’re divorced.” She winced. “Is that the reason you broke up? Just because of what you do?”
“I had other options. My father had recently passed away and he’d left me a small fortune, as well as the opportunity to get involved in his business ventures. But I had no interest in such things.” He lifted one brow. “She was adamant that I toe the line, that I give in to her will, but as it turns out… I didn’t. And she couldn’t stand it. She said my job was too dangerous, and if I didn’t give it up, she’d leave me.”
“And she did?”
He nodded. “Without much reluctance, but with a lot of dissension. She’s remarried now, very happily. And she controls her husband with a velvet glove.”
“I think your job could be exciting, although so far it’s been kind of dull.”
“Is that so?”
“And Harry? I don’t own any velvet gloves.”
He glanced at her, then grinned. “I wasn’t drawing a comparison, brat. Well, perhaps I was, in an obscure, peripheral manner. You may not own velvet gloves, but I’ll bet you own leather ones—maybe boxing gloves. Or possibly even brass knuckles?”
She blushed, giving herself away. “One of the men at the bar had a pair of those. I confiscated them when he kept causing trouble.”
Harry raised a brow, wondering exactly how she’d accomplished that. “You’re unlike her in many ways, Charlie. But you’re even more controlling.” It dawned on him that he could use this argument to turn her away from her seductive course. He truly had no intention of getting involved with any woman who wanted to call the shots.
“Harry, this may come as a shock, but I didn’t ask for your hand in marriage, I just want to try out this… um… ”
Knowing Charlie and her penchant for boldness, he decided to help her out before she said something too descriptive, too luring, that would push him right over the edge. He cleared his throat and offered, “Chemistry?”
“Yeah!” She beamed at him. “This chemistry we have going. I like it. I’ve never felt it before.”
He gulped and almost swerved off the road. He shouldn’t ask, because the less he knew, the better, but he couldn’t seem to keep the words contained. He had to know. “Never, as in… ?”
“As in never. The men I’ve known weren’t the type to inspire illusions of lust. It’s the truth, and I hope you won’t hold it against me, but I’m pretty much inexperienced in this kind of thing.”
He closed his eyes briefly, not enough to wreck his car, but enough to suffer a moment of silence, When he opened them again, he realized nothing had changed. He still could barely breathe. How did she keep doing this to him? “Charlie, when you say inexperienced, do you mean—”
“I’m almost a virgin.”
His head throbbed. “How does a woman remain almost a virgin?”
She shrugged. “Once when I was nineteen, I felt rebellious and gave in to this total dweeb who lived close to us. What a mistake that was! I ended up punching him in the nose he was so inept. I mean, I was a virgin then, and he was twenty-two ye
ars old, and supposedly experienced, but even I knew more than he did. And he was so obnoxious about it, blaming me.” She snorted in renewed righteous indignation over the slight.
“Good God.”
“Then, when I was twenty-three, I got engaged to a guy I thought was nice. And even though I didn’t really want him particularly bad, I figured I should know if we were compatible in bed or not before I shackled myself to him.”
“And?”
“It’s a good thing I didn’t marry him.” She shuddered in revulsion, then twisted in the seat to face Harry, full of confidences. In a stage whisper, she said, “He peeled off his clothes, and Harry, he had hickeys that I hadn’t given to him in the strangest damn places!”
Harry bit his lip.
“Ooh, it was disgusting.” Her voice lowered even more. “And his body wasn’t all that great, either. Nothing like yours. He didn’t have any hair at all on his chest. Slick as a baby’s bottom. Can you imagine?”
Harry, who had a nice covering of chest hair, sighed. Well, hell. “You know, you really could benefit from just a pinch of discretion.”
“I shouldn’t have told you?”
“I might have suffered less not knowing.” Her admiration had the ability to fully arouse him from one heartbeat to the next. He could already envision her fingers tangled in his chest hair, smoothing, stroking…
“Why should you suffer? I’m the one who’s had to contend with fools and abstinence.”
He choked on a laugh. “Charlie—”
In a mournful tone worthy of the divine, she said, “It really has been rough, you know.”
Dalton’s daughter, Dalton’s daughter, Dalton’s…
She peeked up at him, a study of feminine adoration. “If he’d looked anything like you, Harry, I might have been able to ignore the hickeys, even though they weren’t mine, and even though I can’t imagine anyone putting their mouth on him there. But he wasn’t you and he’d been with someone else. And if I wasn’t going to marry him, and of course, after knowing that, I wasn’t, then I didn’t think I should have to sleep with him.”
Harry didn’t think she should have to, either. He didn’t particularly want to think of her sleeping with anyone, certainly not a man with a hairless chest, not a man who’d been with someone else and gotten love bites in unlikely places. What places? No, he didn’t care what places. He didn’t want her with any man, except maybe himself, and he was out of bounds.