got a better suggestion. Instead of questions and one word answers, how about we start our conversation like normal people do—by introducing ourselves?”
She gave him a dismissive shrug.
“That’s not necessary. I already know who you are.”
Dameon reared back in surprise. “You do, huh? So in addition to being beautiful you are psychic?” He raked his eyes up and down her bodacious body and winked. “Why am I not surprised?”
She took an additional step back and tossed him a frosty smile.
“Trust me. I know you. You’re the arrogant asshole who sees a redheaded woman with big tits and automatically assumes that she’s a whore. And… you’re wondering how much it will cost you to get a look at these.”
A sneer tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Do I have that about right?”
Dameon’s eyes flared. His voice was cool.
“Actually, no. You don’t. But I do have a question for you.”
At that moment, a tall, good-looking Latino man came rushing toward them. His dark, almost black eyes flashed with appreciation. He grabbed Jesse’s arm and pulled her close. “My dear, I’ve been looking for you. I’m sorry I was late. Forgive me.”
Dameon retreated, annoyance flooding him. Christ, he should have known. A woman like this? Brazen, beautiful, standoffish? Of course. A woman who looks and acts the way this one does would have to belong to some rich bastard. A man who owns a string of gold-plated Texas oil wells perhaps—or is merely as well-connected to the Mexican mafia as his old buddy Raoul Morales.
Nodding to the strikingly handsome dark-haired man, Dameon greeted him with a cool smile.
“Good evening, Raoul. Nice to see you.”
The Latino’s eyes danced with amusement.
“Likewise, Dameon. I see you’ve met my gorgeous escort, Jesse O’Donnell. I’m not surprised that you discovered her, bro.” Turning to Jesse, he grinned. “So, Jess, you’ve met our handsome and charming police chief?”
Jesse threw Dameon a startled glance then quickly looked down.
Dameon interjected. “No, Raoul. We haven’t met. I was just about to correct an assumption Ms. O’Donnell made.” He captured her gaze and refused to relinquish it. “Your escort mistook me for other men she’s known.” Gratified to see Jesse’s cheeks flush, Dameon extended his hand. When she reluctantly offered hers, he grasped it firmly with a slight bow. “Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Dameon Macarios. I’m the police chief of this fair city.”
Raoul wrapped a big arm around Jesse’s shoulders and gave her a mock warning.
“Don’t let all that charm and Hollywood good looks convince you otherwise, Jesse. Dameon is the meanest, toughest son of a bitch you’ll ever meet.”
A smile fought with Dameon’s stern expression. “May I return the compliment, Raoul?”
Hearing a man on the other side of the hallway shouting for him, Raoul huffed an annoyed grunt.
“Jesse, I’m sorry. Please excuse me for a moment. Let me get that emotionally and professionally needy asshole off my back, and then I’ll introduce you to all the makers and shakers in this bustling metropolis of ours. Although, I have to admit, you’ve already met our most famous star, my old buddy Dameon. We call him ‘Wolf.’ “
Raoul leaned over and bussed her cheek. He headed across the room, leaving Jesse slightly pale and shaken in his wake.
Jesse stood still for a moment wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole. They were too far from California to pray for an earthquake and just her luck that tornado season was over. Squashing her embarrassment, she took a deep breath and faced her tormentor.
Just minutes ago, his eyes had been dancing with teasing humor. Now they were cool, hard. She’d seen how he reacted to Raoul. He’d concluded that she was Raoul’s mistress, which would confirm his first impression. Jesse recognized that look. She’d been around cops and tough guys all her life. To them
She gave him a dismissive shrug.
“That’s not necessary. I already know who you are.”
Dameon reared back in surprise. “You do, huh? So in addition to being beautiful you are psychic?” He raked his eyes up and down her bodacious body and winked. “Why am I not surprised?”
She took an additional step back and tossed him a frosty smile.
“Trust me. I know you. You’re the arrogant asshole who sees a redheaded woman with big tits and automatically assumes that she’s a whore. And… you’re wondering how much it will cost you to get a look at these.”
A sneer tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Do I have that about right?”
Dameon’s eyes flared. His voice was cool.
“Actually, no. You don’t. But I do have a question for you.”
At that moment, a tall, good-looking Latino man came rushing toward them. His dark, almost black eyes flashed with appreciation. He grabbed Jesse’s arm and pulled her close. “My dear, I’ve been looking for you. I’m sorry I was late. Forgive me.”
Dameon retreated, annoyance flooding him. Christ, he should have known. A woman like this? Brazen, beautiful, standoffish? Of course. A woman who looks and acts the way this one does would have to belong to some rich bastard. A man who owns a string of gold-plated Texas oil wells perhaps—or is merely as well-connected to the Mexican mafia as his old buddy Raoul Morales.
Nodding to the strikingly handsome dark-haired man, Dameon greeted him with a cool smile.
“Good evening, Raoul. Nice to see you.”
The Latino’s eyes danced with amusement.
“Likewise, Dameon. I see you’ve met my gorgeous escort, Jesse O’Donnell. I’m not surprised that you discovered her, bro.” Turning to Jesse, he grinned. “So, Jess, you’ve met our handsome and charming police chief?”
Jesse threw Dameon a startled glance then quickly looked down.
Dameon interjected. “No, Raoul. We haven’t met. I was just about to correct an assumption Ms. O’Donnell made.” He captured her gaze and refused to relinquish it. “Your escort mistook me for other men she’s known.” Gratified to see Jesse’s cheeks flush, Dameon extended his hand. When she reluctantly offered hers, he grasped it firmly with a slight bow. “Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Dameon Macarios. I’m the police chief of this fair city.”
Raoul wrapped a big arm around Jesse’s shoulders and gave her a mock warning.
“Don’t let all that charm and Hollywood good looks convince you otherwise, Jesse. Dameon is the meanest, toughest son of a bitch you’ll ever meet.”
A smile fought with Dameon’s stern expression. “May I return the compliment, Raoul?”
Hearing a man on the other side of the hallway shouting for him, Raoul huffed an annoyed grunt.
“Jesse, I’m sorry. Please excuse me for a moment. Let me get that emotionally and professionally needy asshole off my back, and then I’ll introduce you to all the makers and shakers in this bustling metropolis of ours. Although, I have to admit, you’ve already met our most famous star, my old buddy Dameon. We call him ‘Wolf.’ “
Raoul leaned over and bussed her cheek. He headed across the room, leaving Jesse slightly pale and shaken in his wake.
Jesse stood still for a moment wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole. They were too far from California to pray for an earthquake and just her luck that tornado season was over. Squashing her embarrassment, she took a deep breath and faced her tormentor.
Just minutes ago, his eyes had been dancing with teasing humor. Now they were cool, hard. She’d seen how he reacted to Raoul. He’d concluded that she was Raoul’s mistress, which would confirm his first impression. Jesse recognized that look. She’d been around cops and tough guys all her life. To them
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