Courting Justice

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Courting Justice Page 9

by Brenda Jackson


  “You know it works both ways, too.”

  The elevator came to a stop on their floor, and he waited for her to exit before following behind her.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, tossing the question over her shoulder.

  “Women are also aware of what they do to men. They do it for the hell of it and then feign innocence.”

  She stopped in front of the door to her room. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  He smiled and placed a hand gently on her arm. “That’s my theory, and I’m sticking to it.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out her door key—the extra key he had yet to return to her. She didn’t ask for it, and he didn’t volunteer it. She probably would have asked for it back if his statement had not thrown her off kilter. It didn’t take much to see what he’d said had gotten her angry—big-time.

  “Are you talking about all women or some?” she asked in a voice that let him know she was more than ready to go head-to-head with him.

  He shrugged as he opened the door to her room. “I don’t know. Were you talking about all men or just some?”

  Her glower deepened, and it took all his restraint to keep from grinning. This was serious business to her, but to him it was just a matter of setting the record straight.

  He watched as she crossed the room and went straight to the counter and turned on the coffeemaker. He’d noticed that Peyton seemed to be able to drink coffee at any time of day. He quickly remembered that last episode with her and the cup of coffee and decided that to be on the safe side he probably needed to steer clear of the coffeepot.

  “You have anything cold in the refrigerator?” he asked.

  She glanced back over at him. “Yes, but the hotel keeps a tab on that stuff.”

  He lifted a brow. “Pardon me?”

  “Anything from the minibar goes on your bill.”

  He frowned, thinking that’s usually how it worked. After a brief pause, he said, “And you have a problem with that?”

  He saw her nostrils flare. “Yes, I do, although I’m sure you probably don’t. I have no desire to pay three times the cost for a little, itsy-bitsy bottle of water, wine or anything else in here. What they charge for a small bag of M&Ms is five times what I’d pay for a four-pound bag at the store. That’s totally ridiculous. But since you’re part owner of the resort, I don’t expect you to sweat over it.”

  He shook his head thinking she was really on a roll, and all because…why? “You want to talk about it?”

  From the look on her face, he must have pushed some now-you’ve-really-pissed-me-off button. She put her hands on her hips. “I told you I’m not Sam.”

  “Didn’t say you were.”

  Dropping her hands to her sides, she moved over to the window to look out. “That’s how you start off conversations with Sam when you’re trying to get all into her business.”

  Was it? He’d never noticed. “I’ve said before that I’m well aware you aren’t Sam.” Even after the kiss the first night, she still had such foolish ideas embedded in that gorgeous head of hers?

  He studied her for a second, saw the stiffening of her shoulders and the tilt of her chin. She was ready for battle. But there was also the way she was nervously licking her bottom lip with her tongue, tapping her fingers against her jeans. She was pissed and on edge. He could understand why she thought she should be upset with him, but where did the edginess come from? Did his presence make her tense? Why?

  “You think I’ve been treating you like a sister?” he asked her.

  She licked her lips again. “No.”

  He quirked a brow. “Then what is it?”

  She didn’t say anything. A few moments passed before he concluded she really didn’t need to respond. If she was attracted to him the same way he was attracted to her and was trying to fight it, then he could understand why she seemed prickly.

  She shook her head and rubbed the back of her neck as she moved away from the window. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

  He crossed the room toward her. “Um, maybe I do.”

  Chapter 9

  Peyton watched as Angelo moved toward her with a purposeful stride. She knew she was in trouble, although she didn’t really know why or to what extent. All she knew was that he was looking at her with that same look in his eyes that was there right before they’d kissed a couple of nights ago.

  Did that mean…

  No, that wasn’t it. He was not going to kiss her again. If anything he was going to try and shake some sense into her—nothing more, nothing less. If she truly believed that then why was she backing up with his advance? Why was her heart racing a thousand miles a minute?

  She stopped backing up when the back of her leg touched the sofa. She swallowed deeply. “What is wrong with you?”

  He smiled that smile that sent everything inside of her haywire. The man was so incredibly sensuous it was a shame. He had way too much charisma. And she of all people should not succumb to his alluring charm. She knew better and had heard all the stories about him. She knew he liked to play games when it came to women. He didn’t have a serious bone in his body.

  “What’s wrong with you, Angelo?”

  He pushed a curl out of her face. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

  She narrowed her gaze suspiciously. “You’re acting funny.”

  “Funny in what way?”

  His expression was so innocent, she was beginning to wonder whether she’d imagined that look in his eyes seconds ago. She drew in a deep breath and held up her hand. “Look, Angelo, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not in the mood.”

  He reached out and took hold of her fingers and pulled them to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, before turning it over and kissing the palm. Her insides started to sizzle. The juncture between her thighs was tingling with excitement, like a firecracker on the Fourth of July.

  Still holding her hand in his, he said, “I’m not playing a game.”

  “Yes, you are,” she countered in a voice that didn’t quite sound like her own.

  He shook his head. “No, I’m not. What makes you think I am?”

  She had to get a grip on her things. Kissing her hand with his lips was way too much. Why was she suddenly feeling hot and sexually needy? “Come on, Angelo. This is Peyton and not some silly-ass girl drooling over you.”

  He held her gaze. “And you think that’s the only women I can draw—silly-ass girls? What about a hot-blooded woman, a luscious, desirable one, with an overripe appetite for everything that I want?”

  “A woman like Lela Stillwell,” she snapped.

  He hardened his gaze. “No, Lela would be the last person I’d consider. I was thinking more along the lines of a woman like you.”

  She was shocked. “A woman like me!”

  “Yes, a woman like you. I can feel your heat, and I’m sure you feel mine.”

  She snatched her hand from his grasp and snapped her finger in front of his face. “Hello…remember me? It’s Peyton, the rough-around-the-edges attorney who grew up in Chicago’s South Side, the one who has no qualms about taking a brother down a notch if I have to.”

  He smiled. “I know who you are. Now maybe it’s time for you to know who I am.”

  With that, he dipped his head as his lips connected to hers.

  * * *

  God, how he needed this, Angelo thought as he slid his tongue into Peyton’s mouth. He took the risk of her biting it off if she wasn’t receptive to his kiss, but some risks were worth taking. Although she resisted at first, that only lasted a few seconds before she began returning his kiss with as much passion as he put into it. He didn’t intend to leave one inch of her mouth untouched.

  He deepened the
kiss as he tried to control the sensations stoking the fire inside of him. She felt soft against him, curvy—all woman. It wouldn’t take much to just scoop her up into his arms and carry her into the bedroom. But he knew that was something he couldn’t do, at least for now.

  Although he was trying to make progress, he wasn’t going to rush things or push her into anything she wasn’t ready for yet. Then something she’d once said came to mind. Having a good time doesn’t mean I want guys to think I’m ready and willing. And Angelo didn’t want her to think he was just another man who thought that way. He wanted her to know that he felt more than that. The thought that she had that much power was unsettling to him, yet there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not even his sister Sam knew the intensity of his feelings for Peyton. And to be perfectly honest, until this weekend, he hadn’t really understood them himself.

  And this was the result. A mind-boggling kiss that he felt in every part of his body where the passion he had kept under wraps was now escalating to a need so fierce he had to struggle to contain it. But Angelo’s need for control didn’t stop him from pulling Peyton closer into his arms as he tilted his head at an angle to deepen the kiss even more.

  And when he heard her moan, he nearly lost it.

  He pulled back slightly to give her a chance to breathe but kept his lips close to hers, taking his tongue and tracing a line around her top lip, then using his lips to pull hard on the bottom one. Then he angled his mouth to take hers again, pulling her closer into his arms. Angelo pressed his body against hers and wondered if she could feel his arousal pressed against her stomach. She probably could since he left no doubt as to his level of desire for her. But what she didn’t know was that he was fighting like hell to control it.

  A knock at the door startled them both, and Angelo pulled back and drew in a deep breath. He looked at her as she cast an accusing glance at him. He took a step back, slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked right back at her. There was no way she could pretend that she didn’t want him or that she hadn’t enjoyed the kiss. He’d heard her moans and groans, the way her tongue had latched onto his, drawing his tongue into her mouth just as hard as he’d been pulling on hers.

  He watched as she quickly walked to the door, appreciating the way her jeans hugged her curvy backside.

  She snatched the door open. “Yes?”

  “A delivery for you, ma’am.”

  The guy handed her a huge bouquet of flowers. She closed the door behind her and stared at the floral arrangement in a state of total shock. “Someone sent me flowers,” she mumbled, carrying the huge vase of flowers over to a table.

  “Did they?”

  She barely glanced over at him. “Yes.” Then she opened the card and looked back at him in surprise. “They’re from you.”

  Yes, they were from him, but he hadn’t counted on being here when they were delivered.

  “Yes, tomorrow is your birthday.”

  She nodded slowly as she put the card aside and looked at the flowers again. “They are beautiful. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She looked back at the flowers a moment and then looked at him. “Why?”

  “I told you, tomorrow is your birthday.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not just asking about the flowers, Angelo. I’m talking about you and me. We’ve kissed twice now. What’s going on?”

  He drew in a deep breath. “What do you think is going on?”

  She lifted her chin. “I thought I was supposed to be helping you with Lela.”

  “You are,” he said.

  “But why do I get the feeling there’s more to it than that?”

  “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  She glared at him. “What I will say is that people don’t go around kissing each other for no reason.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “You’re right. There is a reason. I want you and you want me. You can deny it, but your kiss tells me a different story.”

  “Could be I just needed that kiss.”

  Angelo chuckled. “Could be.” He smiled. “So what’s my excuse?”

  “You’re a man, you don’t need one.”

  “Ouch.” He glanced at his watch. “I think I need to let you rest for a while. You seem a little grouchy. I’ll be back to take you to dinner around—”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  If Peyton thought she could avoid him then she had another thought coming. “Remember our agreement about Lela.”

  “She’s your problem, not mine.”

  He nodded. “Yes, but we agreed. And I expect you to keep your end of the bargain.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You will. You say you’re not a coward, and I’m taking you at your word. But if you don’t think you can handle a little competition from a woman like Lela then I understand.”

  She stiffened her spine. “I can handle Lela, but I’m warning you, Angelo. Keep your hands to yourself.”

  He stared across the room at her and the tension between them was palpable. He knew her stubbornness would keep her from backing down and it was the same way with him. “I’ll be back at seven.”

  “You do that, but I might not be here.”

  When he reached the door he glanced back over his shoulder, met her gaze. “Wherever you are, I will find you.”

  Chapter 10

  The place was perfect, Peyton thought as she glanced around. She’d first seen the lighthouse when she’d arrived and had inquired about it then. The resort concierge had told her it was a place that was popular if you wanted to be alone and a good place to watch the cruise ships.

  Although it was located on the grounds of the resort, it was a couple of miles from Dunwoody Cove. She figured Angelo wouldn’t look for her here. He would think that she had run scared, but she really didn’t care. She was feeling down about her thirtieth birthday and the only thing she wanted was to be left alone.

  When Angelo had left her earlier that day, she hadn’t bothered taking a nap as planned. Instead, she had packed an overnight bag and rented a car. After making a pit stop at a market, she had driven along the scenic route to the Dunwoody Lighthouse, which stood well over two hundred feet tall. The outside of the lighthouse was built to resemble the black-and-white spiral pattern of the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. But that’s where the similarities ended. Once inside, the entry opened onto a bank of elevators next to a spiral staircase. Each floor had a parlor and at the top was a beautiful circular bedroom just below the lantern room.

  She’d told the receptionist at the resort front desk that she was going shopping in case Angelo inquired about her whereabouts. So here she was at the very top of the lighthouse, standing on the balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. She was glad she’d brought along a shawl to ward off the summer breeze from the ocean. She watched the ships passing. Most were cruise ships, all brightly lit. The view from the top of the lighthouse was simply breathtaking.

  She rubbed her arms to ward off the chill. Even with the shawl she felt the cool breeze off the waters. She was grateful the lighthouse room she had rented for the night—the only one in the place—was available. It provided the solitude she wanted. She planned to stay overnight and all day the next day as well. She would turn thirty in peace and quiet, and alone.

  She tried ignoring the loneliness she was feeling. This was the first birthday in years that she wouldn’t be celebrating with Mac and Sam. Even when they lived in different cities, they had always gotten together on her birthday, especially since they knew how hard it was for her after her grandmother’s death.

  Peyton missed her two best friends, but knew that considering everything, this was probably how things would be from here on out. Honestly, there was no way she could expect things to
remain the same. She had to be fair to Mac and Sam as well as to herself. She had to move on with her life. They would call her tomorrow—she had no doubt of that. And when they did, she would pretend she was having a wonderful time and even make up names of guys she’d met to satisfy their curiosity. They didn’t need to know the truth. No one needed to know that on her thirtieth birthday, she was the loneliest she’d ever been in her life.

  She stretched before walking back inside. The studio was a nice size, despite its circular design. She’d never been in a round room before and found the idea rather interesting. In the center of the room was the spiral staircase that led to the lantern room. The king-size bed was covered in beautiful white linens with large fluffy pillows. There was a room divider that separated the bedroom from the small eat-in kitchen, which had a mini-fridge and a microwave that was built into the cabinets. There was a spacious spa bathroom with an enclosed shower and a sitting area with windows that faced the ocean.

  Peyton glanced at the table where she’d placed the items she’d purchased from the market—sandwiches, cheese, chips, a magazine and several wine coolers. She smiled, thinking she mustn’t forget the Little Debby snack cake. What would a birthday be without a cake? She studied the beautiful flower arrangement Angelo had given her for her birthday. It was a nice gesture. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had sent her flowers. A guy she’d dated some time ago had told her that she really wasn’t the flowers type. At the time, she hadn’t taken offense and thought he was probably right since she’d never really considered it. But for some reason, Angelo’s flowers made her appreciate them in a way that surprised her. It was something she definitely wasn’t used to. Was it the arrangement or the fact that Angelo was the one who sent them?

  Drawing in a deep breath, she crossed the room, grabbed a wine cooler off the table, placed it in an ice bucket and went back outside to the balcony to watch the ships passing by. She had some serious thinking to do. Why after all this time was she attracted to Angelo? Granted she hadn’t been with a man in almost a year. But still, was she that hard up? And if so, why him when she knew what he was about?

 

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