Looks are Deceiving

by Michele Hart

  Greg pretended to take notes, scribbling into his palm with an invisible pen, drawing another smile from her.

  Then he took a breath of resignation, set his coffee cup down in the table, and appeared regretful to say, “I guess I better get out of here. You say you can house-sit Monday for the delivery?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll show up at Reno’s tomorrow night and give you the key and directions. So, when are you available for our next snow job on the Amigos?”

  “My next night off is next Sunday.”

  Taken aback by the restriction, he squawked, “That’s seven straight days!”

  Elissa shrugged her shoulders, and felt defeated. “I need the hours, plus I have night classes on my nights off.”

  Greg shook his head, causing his black hair to fall into his melty, dark-chocolate sight. “I can’t be expected to last that long without smelling toffee. I’ve my addictions now, too.”

  Too soon, he hauled himself to his feet and gave her the cutest expression of wonder. Then he took hold of her hand like territory, began the trek to the door, and she felt the room losing something with his exit.

  Before the door, he turned around to her, and squeezed her hand before he released it. “I’ll see you at Reno’s, then.”

  “Have fun counting stock,” she said, wishing he wasn’t leaving, but knew she couldn’t keep gawking at him the way she did. Her fascination with him probably shined stupidly through her every stupid expression.

  When she thought he’d reach for the door knob, she felt instead his hand rise up to her cheek. Before she could process his touch, he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, a gentle, feathery kiss that made her close her eyes and notice the heat of his lips ... and the world spinning.

  When his warm mouth left her, she was frozen against the wall. He’d kissed her, and he made her body throb. He’d really, really kissed her, and she hadn’t expected that. She could smell his sandalwood scent hinting of toffee spray as it enveloped them. She opened her eyes to see him so close, his curious vision exploring hers.

  “There was no one to see that kiss, Greg.”

  “I felt I owed you a more appropriate first kiss than the one at the party,” he explained, his attention appearing to settle on her mouth.

  Her body pulsing, Elissa forced a full breath under his melty brown gaze. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, and it stole her mind, caused her too much awareness of him, sensory overload.

  “Well, considering we’re supposed to have already become, um, physically involved, the bigger kiss at the party was certainly more visually convincing of our relationship.”

  “I’m convinced already. I’m going to kiss you again,” he told her with certainty, leaning closer to her again. She felt his eyes on her like nothing she’d felt before.

  He inched a little closer, and her hands were plastered to the wall, bracing herself against the temptation of his next kiss. But she’d rather Homeland Security frisk her apartment for bombs than stop him.

  Greg pressed his soft, sensuous lips to hers again, and Elissa forgot the world, forgot everything but him. She felt his hands arresting her shoulders, taking her over. His mouth opened hers, and his tongue lavished her, stripped her of what fractions of her independence still existed. Her hands moved, programmed to rise to his silk shirt and the hardness of his chest. She felt his fingers thread into her hair and slide through her tresses in a sultry caress.

  When he parted from her, she kept her eyes closed just a few seconds more, still feeling his lips against hers and the fireworks his kiss launched. She hadn’t felt so much in a kiss in so very long.

  When Elissa opened her eyes, she met his pinned on her, and she foresaw the walls of her resistance turned to dust. Greg was irresistible, and she was amazed at the prompt within her to grab hold of his hand and take him straight to bed. The places where his fingertips had grazed her flesh still tingled.

  “Tomorrow night. Club Reno’s,” he said, his voice a note deeper and more resonant. Even his voice felt warm.

  “Tomorrow night,” she repeated numbly. In a fog of sensations, she watched him walk out her door. She heard the click of the latch before she quite realized he’d gone.

  Elissa felt her lungs starving for oxygen before she realized she’d stopped breathing. Greg had kissed her. With no one to witness the act. She felt fairly sure she hadn’t imagined it.

  Now alone, her brain released from his magnetism, she strode to the couch and landed on it, took up the remote and turned it to the all-news channel. The TV showed North Korea setting up for another nuclear test against UN orders, but she wasn’t all that into world events at the moment.

  She had to ask herself why he’d kissed her. He’d done it on purpose, stood a little too close for her free thought, stared at her longer than he should’ve, deploying deep dark eyes to seduce her. Had he decided she’d be an easy mark, already playing the role of his lover before his friends?

  How was she going to keep from falling for him if he kept kissing her like that? She didn’t want to see danger coming. She’d close her eyes and keep from seeing it all. That quickly, it was no longer about the money, and that was bad. The moment it became about real feelings her lifelong plans would drift away.

  At the end of the month, the game of fooling his friends would end, and Greg’s interest would go back to cover models.

  It was that moment she vowed to blind herself to anything that would take her focus from her plans with the FBI. Just blind herself, and what she didn’t see, what hints she refused to pick up, wouldn’t hurt her.

  It’ll be rough to stay strong around him. If Smoochy’s kisses came from Heaven, Greg’s kisses came straight from the sexiest part of Hell.

  * * * *

  Greg and the Amigos stepped into the dark club thumping to a hip-hop beat and flashing lights, and his eyes adjusted to the lighting, immediately seeking Elissa. He spotted her clearing off a booth, then heading for the bar. That skirt would make a saint’s eyes bug out.

  “That table,” he pointed to the booth she’d cleared, and led the others straight to it. Piling into the half-circle booth, Greg took the end position and saw the exact moment her sight landed on them.

  God, she looked great. The low-cut, black uniform top bearing Reno’s logo under the too-small and opened tuxedo coat fit her like it was painted on, displaying a beautiful cleavage for his sight. The view made his mouth water. Her long, paprika hair fell unrestrained past her shoulders over the tuxedo lapels, and he remembered how soft her tresses had been last night when he’d stroked the wavy locks. Oh, the mere thought of her hair tickling his chest …

  The short skirt highlighting ruffle bottoms revealed all of her legs, slender and long and wasted, not being wrapped around his hips this moment. He congratulated himself in not taking her into her bedroom last night and kissing her all over. He‘d left like a gentleman when he really didn’t want to.

  Damn, he impressed himself with his restraint. He wasn’t liable to exercise that level of abstinence with her for much longer. He wasn’t that good at self-control. She was his territory now, his happy hunting ground of future conquests.

  The more he thought of her, the less able he became to move his mind from the prospect of toffee-scented paprika hair across his pillow.

  Oh, God. It was becoming a serious want.

  Elissa’s expression wary to spot the Amigos, she approached the table and gave them an anxious smile, attempting to keep her face turned down. A shame since she was strikingly beautiful.

  “What can I get for you gentlemen tonight?”

  “There’s not a gentleman here, I assure you,” Allen quipped in classic Allen manner.

  Jerry looked her up and down, obviously appreciating what he saw. “How about your phone number?”

  She sharpened her smile. “My husband doesn’t let me give out my phone number anymore. Sorry.”

  Sputtering a laugh, Greg watched Jerry’s brow crash.
/>   “How unreasonable of him!” Jerry exclaimed. “You should dump him right away.”

  Elissa shook her head. “I can’t. He’s pregnant with my child.”

  “Ew, poisonous wit,” Derek commented, wiggling his eyebrows. “That’s a damn shame. My brother here has a thing for redheads.”

  Greg looked up to her with his best puppy-dog eyes, and innocently pled, “Please excuse him. I’m very happily occupied by a fine woman.”

  “Yeah, but she’s not your caliber, my man,” Jerry put in. Greg watched her display a look that said she’d enjoy giving Jerry a sharp kick. Maybe one day he’d see that. A guy can dream.

  Jerry reached up and plucked her left hand from the serving tray she held. “No ring. Never saw a married woman who didn’t wear her wedding ring.”

  She slid her hand from his. “The diamond’s just too damned big to wear in public.”

  “Ew!”

  But Jerry was prepared with a snide answer. “Any man who can give you a big diamond wouldn’t let you work here and be a target for men like me.”

  Greg thought that a creepy thing to say to a woman. He watched her purposely send her eyes back to the tray, an effort to remain unrecognized, most likely. Luckily, the club was dark. He gave thought to Jerry’s point. Did Greg really want Elissa working there?

  Sure he’d a good action in mind for that, Greg couldn’t help but want to get another look at her, so he leaned his head down a little to see her fantastic legs. The uniform skirt was far shorter than the dress she’d worn that first night he’d laid eyes on her. In fact, the skirt was so short, ruffle-fanny bottoms were required. She had the best-looking set of thighs he’d ever seen. He so wanted to put his hand on her calf and ride her leg all the way up.

  He so wished there wasn’t another soul in the room so he could slide those ruffles down to the dance floor.

  “Is this your night to harass strange women?” the delicious server asked Jerry, probably hoping to ward him away.

  Jerry gave an arrogant tilt of his head, clearly enjoying the joust. “Every night I live is a night I’m gonna hit on beautiful women.”

  She cocked her head. “That’s a pretty long name for a drink. Wanna order something I’m familiar with?”

  “How about Sex on the Beach?” Jerry offered.

  Greg rolled his eyes, Derek laughed, and Allen shook his head, entertained by the exchange.

  Quick on the return, she replied, “I don’t like sand in my underwear.”

  Jerry gave a dismissing wave. “I insist you get rid of the underwear.”

  “Give the poor girl a break, Amigo,” Greg intervened, feeling sorry for her enduring an all-out Jerry assault. “She just might have a better man than you.”

  Derek and Allen ripped out in crackles of glee. Elissa’s lips gave an appreciative scrunch for his rescue.

  Relenting on the torture of their beautiful server, the guys gave her their drink orders, and Greg watched her walk away, noticing the sway of her hips the spike-heels gave her. Oh, God. It just stripped him down to pure base instincts. He just wanted to haul her into his cave, and have his caveman-way with her. He wanted her to the point of a boner under the table.

  Nuns and puppies. Just picture nuns and puppies, and recite the alphabet backwards. Then, a plunge into arctic water.

  Turning back to the table, he saw the Amigos’ eyes posted on her backside as well.

  “She’s hot,” Jerry announced, as though he hadn’t made clear his notice of her. “Now that’s what you oughtta be banging, Greg.”

  Greg thought so too, but not aloud. He was working on that mission now.

  “I agree. She was giving you the eye, Gregster,” Derek added. “If you leave here without her phone number, you’re a damned fool.”

  Greg shook his head, feigning disinterest when he really wanted to follow her into the stock room, and take stock of her stock. “Believe it or not, I’m terribly preoccupied with the dish you already sent my way.”

  Jerry issued a sarcastic chuckle. “Terrible’s a good word choice. Allen told me all about the little bag lady at the party. I’m sorry I missed that. You can’t mean she’s got a grip on your balls.”

  Greg cast his eyes over to where Elissa leaned against the bar and placed the order for their drinks. Her foot rose up again in that sexy way, and the small motion reminded him of how hot she looked that first night. The recall of it moved through him like a mini-tornado.

  “There’s so much more to her than you know.”

  The Amigos each emitted a different quirky sound of disbelief.

  “Oh, just give in,” Allen suggested. “It’s only a thousand dollars. Pay up. You’ve been bested.”

  Greg shook his head. “No way. You just may have delivered the woman of my dreams into my hands. I swear lightning struck the first time I saw her.”

  Derek leaned into the conversation. “Oh, no. You don’t mean that.”

  Greg tried not to obviously watch his favorite server, his eyes still fixed on watching her walk in those tall heels. Teasing his friends was great fun. “This one just might take me off the market.”

  “Look,” Allen proposed, a bit too obviously perturbed by Greg’s hard stand against taking his good advice. “Let’s just drop the deal. You’ve made your point.”

  “Oh, no.” Greg shook his head, still watching her peripherally. “Oh, no. I’m not dumping her. There’s something genuine going on here. She couldn’t shake me if she tried.”

  Jerry pulled the ashtray on the tabletop to him, shook a cigarette from the pack he’d drawn from his shirt pocket, and he lit up, sucking in a lungful of poisons. Greg watched the subtle look of relief come over his face to be feeding an addiction, and Greg was happy never to have picked up the habit.

  Annoyed, Allen waved his hand through the ribbon of smoke to dilute the pollution. “You’d stop smoking if you saw what it did to the human body.”

  Greg realized Jerry hadn’t smoked in his teens, but added no jab to Allen’s comment.

  “Well, I don’t cut open bodies for a living like you do. The problem of the bag lady’s easily remedied,” Jerry explained, ignoring the disapproval. “We paid the fashion plate to show up. We’ll pay her to go away.”

  “Greg can’t last the whole month looking at some plain face,” Derek put in. “Let him try. I’ve seen the babes he’s worn on his arm. He’ll tire of her and blubber for a real woman in a week or two.”

  “I’m amazed you think me so shallow. Elissa’s a real woman,” Greg assured them. “She kisses like dessert. And she’s a smart girl, too.”

  “Yeah, yeah, and she’ll let you know if Timmy falls down the well,” Jerry slurred. He pointed at Elissa serving drinks across the bar. “Those thighs should be hugging your ears tonight.”

  Greg examined her obviously, watching her moving from table to table. He couldn’t agree with Jerry more. “She probably has an uninteresting personality.”

  At the same exact time, the three of them shouted, “Who cares!”

  Greg gave them a serious quirk of expression. “I do. You’ll start to care about deeper things when you get older.”

  “You can’t screw brains, Greg,” Jerry informed him.

  She stood across the half-filled crowd of tables, leaning against the bar as a bartender collected her drinks. Her beautiful red hair bounced down her back at every turn of her head. Her foot came up again.

  Jerry pointed to their smoldering server again. “I’d like to bend her over and part those thighs.”

  Greg gritted his teeth, not thrilled to see a good friend sighting Elissa and imagining having sex with her. In fact, if he thought about it much at all, he’d be angry. Strangely, he found Jerry’s taste in women very commendable, relieving himself of a little steam. He could believe it a small crime as long as Jerry didn’t realize she was Greg’s girl.

  Maybe dragging his friends with him to watch Elissa work wasn’t so swell an idea.

  “You getting old on us, Greg?”
Jerry jabbed. “Geez, you’ve got to get away from that office some time. Obviously you’ve been boinking your adding machine.”

  “Now, now,” Allen intervened. “Clearly it’s been too long since he’s had a real woman.”

  “Oh, Elissa’s a real woman.”

  Jerry’s jaw dropped, his lip curled in disgust. “You didn’t.”

  “He did,” Derek replied, a look of disappointment on his face.

  Greg put on a huge victorious grin. “Best I’ve ever had. That woman is one dish of a woman, an animal in the sack, pure animal. Luckily, the wounds will heal, not very deep.”

  The Amigos gave miserable moans.

  “That’s gross to think about,” Allen deadpanned. “Is there a cure for temporary madness?”

  “Yeah,” Jerry replied, then pointed again to Elissa across the room. “That ass would make a great cure for temporary insanity. You’d be sweet-talking your way up the woman’s skirt if you had an ounce of brains, Greg.”

  Greg agreed one hundred percent. Wholeheartedly. His mind was already there.

  Hoping to send conversation onto another tangent, Greg took up the book of matches from the ashtray and fiddled with it. “So, Allen, you done with Janet?”

  “Yeah, I’m done with her. My mind’s filled more and more with Sissy. She’s going to give in to me soon. Has she broken up with that attorney yet?”

  Greg nodded, setting Allen up for a little misery. “I don’t think she was all that interested in him. I suspect she has another man on her mind.”

  Allen’s eyes shot to him. “Who is the bastard? I’ll sedate him, nail his ass in a crate, and have him shipped to Indonesia as medical equipment.”

  Greg pretended to think. “She talks about some guy like he’s touched the moon.”

  “Who is he?” Allen insisted, a twitch visible just below his eye.

  Greg shook his head, devilishly enjoying his friend’s controlled panic. “I can’t say. She speaks of him but really hasn’t mentioned his name.”

  “Get me that name,” Allen demanded low.

  “No way,” Derek cut in. “You have to compete for Sissy fair-and-square. It’s time for you to step up to the plate, and start treating her right. You can’t keep scaring off her boyfriends.”