Terms Of Engagement. Kylie Brant
screamed designer. They probably cost what she paid in six months’ rent.
“I know the guy. He’s got a reputation with women, but so far no one has taken the step to make him pay for his actions. If Sheila Jennings presses charges—and it sure sounded like she planned to—she’s going to need your statement to back hers up. Otherwise he’ll spin it that she was willing, and he’ll walk again. And then he’ll do the same thing to some other woman.”
His words had her nerves congealing in a greasy tangle in her stomach. If Jack hadn’t come outside with her, the outcome of the evening would have been far different. She would have suffered far worse injuries than a bruised cheek, and Sheila…She swallowed hard, thinking what might have happened to the woman. But she couldn’t focus on that now. And she couldn’t allow herself to be manipulated into feeling guilty about a woman she didn’t know and possible future victims.
She was already carrying all the guilt she could live with.
“Save your breath. I’ve made up my mind and you’re not going to change it.”
The frustration on his face was easy to read. “Dammit, Lindsay…”
“Dammit, Jack…” She crossed her arms to mimic his stance. Well, not exactly, since her chest wasn’t bare. And her arms weren’t bulging with all sorts of interesting muscles. But he wasn’t going to intimidate her, regardless.
He gave a curt nod. “I’ll let you sleep on it. Maybe when Jolie talks to you tomorrow you’ll change your mind.”
Although she didn’t relish the upcoming conversation, she shook her head. “I won’t.”
His jaw tightened, and the toughness she’d noted earlier was not so hidden now. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as stubborn as you.”
“Then you haven’t looked in the mirror lately.”
For a moment she thought her reckless tongue had gotten her in trouble again. His face darkened and he looked like a man struggling to leash his temper. Then he pushed away from the counter and grabbed her purse, digging inside it to take out her cell phone.
Her brows rose, but she wisely chose to keep her objections to herself. He took his out, too, and pressed keys in rapid succession on both. Then he flipped them shut and dropped hers back into her purse. “I added my number in case you come to your senses before tomorrow night.”
His number? The thought suffused her with heat. And far more temptation than she was up to battling right now. No doubt he’d coded her number into his directory, as well. “What’s tomorrow night?”
“Our dinner date. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
He bent to pick up his toolbox before heading to the door.
She was speechless for one long moment. And no, that absolutely was not interest stirring inside her. “Wait a minute.” She followed him to the door. “I’m not having dinner with you. I thought I made that clear earlier at the bar.”
He turned to face her. Somewhere he’d lost the Santa hat, which just made that sardonic cock of his brow more noticeable. “You really think you’re going to win two arguments with me tonight?”
“One has absolutely nothing to do with the other. And we both know you’d just spend the entire evening trying to convince me to make that statement.”
He rested a shoulder against the door. She wondered fleetingly if he ever stood up straight. His pose called attention to his lean hips and narrow waist, though the baggy red pants made it impossible to make out the line of his thigh.…Realizing where her gaze had gone, she jerked it upward and saw a fleeting expression of humor in Jack’s eyes.
“That’s not true,” he said mildly. “Because willing or not, you will be interviewed by an officer about the scene at the Blue Lagoon. I’m going to spend dinner trying to persuade you to sleep with me.”
She dropped the makeshift ice pack on the counter and glared at him impotently. “I have no intention of sleeping with you!”
“Then I have my work cut out for me.”
Aggravated, she drew a breath. Her emotions felt like they’d been on an out-of-control carousel tonight. But right now they were settled solidly in annoyance. “This is exactly why I don’t like cops. They’re pushy, and devious and untrustworthy.” And some were corrupt, placing their own greed above others’ lives.
“We’ll discuss your grievances with the department tomorrow night, too.”
She angled her chin, belatedly insulted. “What makes you think I’m free tomorrow night?”
“Piper’s closes at six, and Jolie and Dace claim you have no social life. So tomorrow night, I’m it.”
Jolie and Dace had told him she had no social life? Mortification mingled with irritation. Just because it was true—just because it was her choice—didn’t mean it didn’t sting.
He cut through her momentary silence by commanding, “Come over here.”
Instantly wary, she remained where she was. “Why?”
“So you can lock the door behind me.” He jerked his head toward the ice pack she’d left on the counter. “Then for the rest of the night keep ice on that cheek. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. It’s going to start hurting once you fall asleep and the numbness wears off. You’re going to want to take a pain reliever before you turn in.”
In face of the genuine concern in his voice Lindsay felt her ire fade away. And that was perhaps the most lethal part of Langley’s attractiveness. It would be easier to ignore his sexual magnetism if he wasn’t so darn likable.
She was reminded again of what he’d done for her that night, and she felt something inside her soften further. “I will. Thank you.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Hey, it’s Fallon who should be thanking me. If I hadn’t shown up when I did you probably would have crippled him.”
The suggestion was outrageously untrue and guaranteed to make her smile.
He sobered, studying her intently. “I’d feel better if someone stayed with you tonight. Are you sure you don’t want to call Jolie?”
“I’m really okay,” she assured him. And she was. The events of the night had rattled her, but she’d regained her equilibrium. And there was satisfaction to be had from knowing that for once she hadn’t been too late. That she’d helped save a woman from certain trauma.
On impulse, she closed the distance between them, went up on tiptoe and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “But thank you. For everything.”
She went to step back. Found it impossible. Jack’s hand had slipped behind her nape, his thumb tilting her chin up. There was a hint of a smile in his voice, on his lips, when he said huskily, “You’re welcome.”
But she detected no amusement when his mouth covered hers. What she tasted was heat. It transferred from his lips to hers and sent corresponding spirals spinning through her veins. He wasn’t a man to miss an opportunity, she reminded herself. But she’d invited this one, hadn’t she, the moment she gotten this close to him.
Maybe she hadn’t changed as much as she’d hoped.
Because responding to his latent sexuality meant she hadn’t completely conquered her desire for excitement. Returning the hard pressure of his mouth meant she hadn’t outgrown her taste for a little danger.
That should have dismayed her. Terrified her. But those weren’t the emotions careening through her system right now. He kissed with the same lazy self-assurance that was so much a part of him. With just a hint of wickedness that invited her to be wicked with him.
And Lindsay was tempted. When his tongue swept inside her mouth, she met it with her own, relishing the dark flavor that traced through her system. Desire rose quickly,