Hot Night. Shannon McKenna
bucks. It’s a great deal.”
She tried not to laugh. “You are an opportunist.”
“One seventy-five, then, parts and labor. I swear, you won’t regret it. Call around, do a price comparison, if you want.”
Sheba yawned hugely and stretched, in a state of utter bliss.
Abby flipped open her checkbook. This had dragged on long enough, and it was her own damn fault for encouraging him. “Who do I make this stupid check out to?”
“Make it out to Night Owl Lock & Safe,” he said.
“Tomorrow I’m going to make some calls to see what the going rate is for a nighttime lockout,” she said, scribbling the check.
“Be my guest.”
She ripped it out of the book. “If I find that you’ve egregiously overcharged me, I’m going to call the Better Business Bureau.”
“You do that,” he said. “Then call me up and tell me what an evil, greedy, grasping bastard I am. Any hour of the day or night is fine.”
She held out the check. “Take this. And put my cat down.”
“But she loves me,” he protested. “She’s as limp as a noodle.”
“Thank you, and good night,” she said sternly.
He hesitated, frowning. “It’s true, what I said about your lock.”
“What would it cost to install a lock you couldn’t get through?”
A slow smile curved his lips. “It would cost you a fortune to install a lock I couldn’t get through. I’m good. Patient, thorough…tireless.”
She broke eye contact and shook with nervous laughter. “My goodness. You certainly do have a high opinion of yourself.”
“Yes.” The word was spoken entirely without vanity.
She blew out a sharp breath. “What a night. First Edgar, now you. Just take your check, please.” She pushed it across the counter.
Zan’s smile had vanished. “I am nothing like Edgar,” he said flatly. “I have nothing in common with that shit-eating insect.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, flustered. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I don’t want your apologies,” he said.
She was at a loss for a moment. “Ah, OK. Thanks again for the—”
“I don’t want your thanks. Most of all, I don’t want your check.”
“So what do you want, then?” The eloquent silence that followed her words made her feel like an idiot. “Oh, duh,” she mumbled. “Set myself up for that, didn’t I? Handed it right to you on a silver platter.”
“A kiss,” he said.
She blinked. “What?”
“That’s what I want.”
She put her hands over her hot cheeks. “Uh…whoa.”
“Don’t worry. No pressure. You don’t have to kiss me,” he assured her. “But you asked me what I wanted. I’m just telling you. That’s all.”
She was utterly flustered. “But I…I just can’t.”
“I know you can’t. I’ll live,” he said. “You’re just so pretty. You smell wonderful, and your voice makes shivers go down my spine. I’m talking about just a tiny, respectful, worshipping kiss. Like kissing the feet of a golden goddess. A sip of paradise.”
Oh, he was diabolically, scarily good. She was spellbound by those seductive topaz eyes, that silk-and-velvet voice. Imagining how it would feel to be kissed like that. As if she were precious, unique.
Loved.
She backed away, appalled at how tempted she was. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I…I just can’t risk that.”
He nodded. “Of course not. Sorry. Shouldn’t even have said it.”
Damn. If he’d been churlish, that would have broken the spell. As it was, his sweetness threw her into terrible confusion.
He placed Sheba on the floor, gave her a farewell stroke, and rose to his feet. His gallant nod was almost a bow. He walked out. She stared at the blank rectangle of night beyond the open door.
She hurried out onto the porch. “Zan!” she called.
He stopped halfway down the stairs and turned slowly. “Yeah?”
She started down after him. “Don’t you want your check?”
He shook his head. “I’d rather dream about my kiss.”
She stopped on the step above his. He still loomed, inches taller than she. “That’s, ah, not very good business,” she told him.
“Nope,” he agreed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressured you.”
“Shhh.” She put her finger against his lips. They were amazingly soft and warm. Something broke loose inside her, and tears flooded down.
His arms circled her, and suddenly she was draped over him, shaking with sobs. She lifted her head a moment later, sniffling. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Bet this service isn’t in your fee schedule.”
“I don’t want a fee from you,” he said. “Get it through your head.”
“Take this, then.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him.
It was a careful kiss. Tender and charged with sweetness. She felt every detail intensely: the scent of his breath, the softness of his lower lip, his hot skin, the strong, elegant bone structure beneath her hands. His beard stubble was so long, it was no longer scratchy. It was soft.
She forced herself to pull away. Zan’s head was tilted back, his eyes closed as if he’d received a divine benediction. His cheekbones were stained with color.
Her laughter sounded soggy. “Zan? Hello? You OK?”
He smiled, eyes still closed. “I’m in heaven.”
“Oh, please.” She swatted his shoulder. “Don’t overdo it.”
He opened his eyes. “I tasted tears on your lips. Made me blush.”
“Oh.” She wiped her eyes, her cheeks. “I’m, ah, glad you liked it.”
He took a step down the stairs. “I’d better go. Right now,” he said. “I can’t keep up this perfect gentleman act any longer.”
So don’t. She forced the impulsive words back. “So it’s an act?”
He backed down the steps. “Only since the dawn of mankind.”
He turned the corner and was lost to sight. She listened to his vehicle pull away. Headlights rounded the curve.
She realized that her phone was ringing. The machine clicked on as she walked in. “This is Abby. Sorry I missed you. Leave a message.”
“Abby? Are you home?” Elaine’s voice was sharp with worry. “Pick up if you are, because I’m about to call the police.”
Abby snatched up the phone. “I’m here,” she said. “Relax.”
“You got rid of the date from hell?”
“With some help, yes.” She dropped limply into a kitchen chair.
“Help? What do you mean, help?”
“Edgar was slobbering all over me, which was gross, and then this locksmith materialized out of nowhere and, uh…beat him up.”
“Beat him…good God, Abby!”
“Yeah,