| Caught between a fierce blazing anger, and the sensation that something
hot and unbidden flared between them, she took a deep breath.
His eyes turned wolf on her. Mysterious. His gaze took in everything about
her, and she could have sworn he could read her mind.
Lord, he ought to bottle it and sell it. He could make a fortune seducing
women with that look.
“What do you care about?” she asked. “Winning the next verbal
battle? Making your point?”
Scott dropped his hand back onto the wall. One corner of his wide mouth turned
up, and Kiley pinpointed her stare onto the spot, unable to look away.
“I haven’t made many points with you.”
Her gaze flicked to his again. “Try Andrea in the magazine accounting
office. She’s single, available, and not as picky as I am.”
“Picky? About what?”
“The men she sleeps with.”
With his other hand, he touched the hollow of her throat. She sucked in a slow
breath as the heat from that delicate, single touch spilled hot across her skin.
“What kind of men do you sleep with, Kiley?”
She rallied against the arousal tightening with hot coils inside her. She sighed.
“You’re crude, you know that?”
“Add rude and lewd and you’ve got all the clichés down.”
She made a scoffing noise in her throat and pushed against his chest again.
When her fingers landed on his hard torso, the sensation tantalized Kiley as nothing
had in a long time. She imagined Scott’s chest and powerful arms naked for
her touch. Dark hair peeked from the open collar of his shirt. Did he have a hairy
chest, or did that bit of masculinity tease her unnecessarily? Blond head. Dark
chest hair. A delicious combination. Almost against her will, her hand smoothed
over his red polo shirt. She wanted him bare under her exploration, and the realization
startled her.
He tilted her chin until she gazed up at him. She quivered under his gentle
touch as his hand came up and caressed her cheek. “You sure as hell don’t
want rescuing.”
Her throat felt dry and aching with tension. “I never said I wanted to
be rescued.”
“You wanted a hero for your magazine article. Instead you got involved
with something a hell of a lot nastier than you expected. Now you’re in
over your head and you don’t want help when it’s right here in front
of you. Isn’t that a little twisted?”
“A little twisted is us in this alley having a conversation like we’re
on Park Avenue or something. Can we get out of here?”
“Not until we get a few things straight. You aren’t going anywhere
without me from now on, is that understood? I’m glued to your hip.”
“But—”
“You aren’t to put one pretty, painted toenail out the door unless
I tell you.”
“For your information, I don’t paint my toenails. For a hotshot
you sure aren’t very observant.”
His brows drew together and his mouth dropped open. She almost smiled. It felt
good to see this big, confident man lose street audacity. Scott looked down at
her short hemline and took in the length of her bare legs and her sandal shod
feet with a long, hungry perusal. His salacious grin set warmth into her belly
that burned steady. His fingers traced over her throat again and into the hair
at the back of her neck and her eyes almost closed at the exquisite sensation.
“Forgive me,” he said. “You’re not to put one beautiful,
naked leg, or toe, outside a door without me going first. Got that?”
She simmered, but not from anger. Did this man realize what he did to her?
She didn’t seem to have control over her reactions to him and her frustration
level escalated.
“Okay, that’s enough. I’ve got enough material for the entire
hero article just from the last two days,” she said. “The magazine
spread is yours. Jackson Cole can kiss it goodbye.”
“You think getting a dumb-assed magazine spread changes anything? Do
you think I’m not serious?”
“No, Mr. Danger.”
“Would you please just call me Scott? You called me Scott before. Why
is it so hard for you?”
His voice went soft and husky. Intimate. It reminded her of last night when
he’d gazed at her over the dinner table and tried to stare her down. He’d
won the battle then because she couldn’t handle the crystal warmth in his
eyes that knocked her breath away. Scott was right, though. She had broken down
more than once and called him by his first name. But that didn’t mean she
would continue in the same vein.
“This isn’t the fifties. I’m not Ozzie and you sure as hell
aren’t Harriet. You can call me by my first name.” Scott shifted.
“Great. We’re standing in a stinking, grimy alleyway discussing
movies and television shows.”
He shrugged. “All in a day’s work. You should see what I was doing
last week.”
“You hole up in alleys with women every day?”
That smile came across his face and stupefied her. God, didn’t the
man know his grin gave off megawatts of virile charm?
“Only with beautiful women with stubborn mouths they can’t keep
shut.”
“That’s a first. I don’t think I’ve ever been complimented
and insulted in the same breath.”
“Call me Scott,” he said huskily.
He could do what he liked with her, to her and at her. She wouldn’t budge
on this item. “Bite me.”
He angled his head closer, his breath warm on her face. Sensual heat rolled
through Kiley. “That can be arranged.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t think so, Mr. Danger.”
“You even call your enemies by their first names.”
“If I want to call you Rumpelstilskin or Harry Houdini, I will. Or maybe
you don’t like strong women with a mind of their own.”
“Yeah, right. My boss for the last few years is a woman, and I don’t
have a problem taking orders from her. She knows what she’s doing which
is a lot more than I can say for you. Why are you so determined to fight me?”
“Because you’re pushy and stubborn and—”
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“And don’t curse.”
“What? Real heroes don’t curse?”
“Well, at least they don’t have gutter mouths.”
“Gutter mouth? Who has a gutter mouth?”
“You’ve done a hell of a lot of cursing in the last few hours.”
“Yeah, more than I’ve done in months. And you know why? You. You’re
a pain in the ass,” he gritted out, his eyes blazing. “And you have
nothing to talk about. I’ve never heard a woman curse as much as you.”
Inexplicably, tears of anger surged into Kiley’s eyes. Damn it. Double
damn it. More than anything she wished her worst anger would come out in
shouting, or anything but tears. All her life she fought this propensity, and
she hated that it reared its head now, in front of this man.
“Back off,” she said, her voice sounding raspy to her own ears.
“What?”
“I said…back away from me.”
Scott’s hands went to her waist. The heat of his fingers made her jump,
his touch sparkling in Kiley’s blood like little electrical jolts.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice tinged with a strange tenderness.
He slipped his hands up to her shoulders, smoothing her skin with a gentle caress.
“I’m not usually this…what you do to me is unreal—”
“What I do to you?”
“I can’t keep my hands off you. Can’t stop wanting to touch
you.”
His gaze went lambent, filled with a craving so carnal she felt its touch through
her skin, in every sinew, every bone. Amazed at his admiration, she also found
deep satisfaction in knowing she could move him to such heights. Whether she wanted
to or not, she loved and hated his attention.
Her anger disappeared as if the last few minutes had never happened. Heaven
help her, this man was unbearably sexy. When he turned on the soft gaze and husky
tone, her heart increased to ramjet speed. When he looked at her like he wanted
to kiss her, to do more, she lost control, lost the anger she needed to keep him
at a distance.
-top- |
Dangerous
Intentions
