merely lifted a brow. “There are a great many things you might be surprised I have in me.”
“Yeah, right.” She twisted her head to watch Haverman climb in his car. “The lieutenant’s not such a bad guy. He just figures PIs belong in the pages of a book, and women belong one step away from the oven.” Because the sun was warm and the deed had been done well, she was content to sit on the car for few minutes and enjoy the small triumph. “You did good … Harry.”
“Thanks, Crystal,” he said, and tried not to let his lips twitch into a smile. “Now, I’d appreciate it if next time you filled me in on the entire plan before we start.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s a next time coming soon. But this was fun.”
“Fun.” He said the word slowly, understanding that that was precisely what she meant. “You really enjoyed it. Dressing up like a tart, making a scene, having that muscle-bound throwback drool on you.”
She offered a bland smile. “I’m entitled to some on-the-job benefits, aren’t I?”
“And it was fun, I suppose, to nearly have your head cracked open?”
“
Nearly’s
the key.” Feeling more kindly toward him, she patted his arm. “Come on, Donovan, loosen up. I said you did good.”
“That, I take it, is your way of thanking me for saving your thick skull.”
“Hey, I could’ve handled Bobby fine, but I appreciate the backup. Okay?”
“No.” He slapped his hands down on the hood on either side of her hips. “It is not okay. If this is a taste of how you do business, you and I are going to set some rules.”
“I’ve got rules. My rules.” His eyes were the color of smoke now, she thought. Not the kind that had hung listlessly at the ceiling of the bar, but the sort that plumes up into the night from a crackling good bonfire. “Now back off, Donovan.”
Make me.
He hated—no, detested—the fact that the childish, taunting phrase was the first thing to pop into his head. He wasn’t a child. And neither was she—sitting there, daring him with that insolent lift to her chin and that half smirk on her beautiful mouth.
His right hand listed. It was tempting to give her one good pop on that damnably arrogant chin. But her mouth seemed a better notion. And he had a much more satisfying idea about what could be done with it.
He snatched her off the hood of the car so quickly that she didn’t think to use any of the defensive countermoves that were second nature to her. She was still blinking when his arms came around her, when one hand cupped firmly on the back of her head, fingers spread.
“What the hell do you think—?”
That was it. The words clicked off as completely as her brain the moment his mouth clamped over hers. She didn’t break away or shift her body to one side to toss him over her shoulder. She didn’t bring her knee up in a way that would have had him dropping to his and gasping. She simply stood there and let his lips grind her mindto mush.
He was sorry she’d pushed him beyond his own rules. Grabbing unwilling women was not on Sebastian’s list of things to do. And he was sorry—desperately sorry, because she didn’t taste the way he’d been certain she would. A woman with a personality like Mel’s should have had a vinegary flavor. She should have tasted prickly and tart.
Oh, but she was sweet.
It wasn’t sugar he thought of, or the kind of gooey candy that came wrapped in gold foil. It was honey, rich, thick, wild honey that you were compelled to lick off your finger. The kind that, even as a child, he’d never been able to resist.
When her lips opened for his, he dived in. Wanting more.
His hands weren’t soft. That was the first wayward thought that stumbled into her brain. They were hard and strong and just a little rough. She could feel those fingers pressed against the back of her neck. The skin there seemed to be on fire.
He pulled her closer, so that their bodies made one long shadow on the littered gravel. As
“Yeah, right.” She twisted her head to watch Haverman climb in his car. “The lieutenant’s not such a bad guy. He just figures PIs belong in the pages of a book, and women belong one step away from the oven.” Because the sun was warm and the deed had been done well, she was content to sit on the car for few minutes and enjoy the small triumph. “You did good … Harry.”
“Thanks, Crystal,” he said, and tried not to let his lips twitch into a smile. “Now, I’d appreciate it if next time you filled me in on the entire plan before we start.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s a next time coming soon. But this was fun.”
“Fun.” He said the word slowly, understanding that that was precisely what she meant. “You really enjoyed it. Dressing up like a tart, making a scene, having that muscle-bound throwback drool on you.”
She offered a bland smile. “I’m entitled to some on-the-job benefits, aren’t I?”
“And it was fun, I suppose, to nearly have your head cracked open?”
“
Nearly’s
the key.” Feeling more kindly toward him, she patted his arm. “Come on, Donovan, loosen up. I said you did good.”
“That, I take it, is your way of thanking me for saving your thick skull.”
“Hey, I could’ve handled Bobby fine, but I appreciate the backup. Okay?”
“No.” He slapped his hands down on the hood on either side of her hips. “It is not okay. If this is a taste of how you do business, you and I are going to set some rules.”
“I’ve got rules. My rules.” His eyes were the color of smoke now, she thought. Not the kind that had hung listlessly at the ceiling of the bar, but the sort that plumes up into the night from a crackling good bonfire. “Now back off, Donovan.”
Make me.
He hated—no, detested—the fact that the childish, taunting phrase was the first thing to pop into his head. He wasn’t a child. And neither was she—sitting there, daring him with that insolent lift to her chin and that half smirk on her beautiful mouth.
His right hand listed. It was tempting to give her one good pop on that damnably arrogant chin. But her mouth seemed a better notion. And he had a much more satisfying idea about what could be done with it.
He snatched her off the hood of the car so quickly that she didn’t think to use any of the defensive countermoves that were second nature to her. She was still blinking when his arms came around her, when one hand cupped firmly on the back of her head, fingers spread.
“What the hell do you think—?”
That was it. The words clicked off as completely as her brain the moment his mouth clamped over hers. She didn’t break away or shift her body to one side to toss him over her shoulder. She didn’t bring her knee up in a way that would have had him dropping to his and gasping. She simply stood there and let his lips grind her mindto mush.
He was sorry she’d pushed him beyond his own rules. Grabbing unwilling women was not on Sebastian’s list of things to do. And he was sorry—desperately sorry, because she didn’t taste the way he’d been certain she would. A woman with a personality like Mel’s should have had a vinegary flavor. She should have tasted prickly and tart.
Oh, but she was sweet.
It wasn’t sugar he thought of, or the kind of gooey candy that came wrapped in gold foil. It was honey, rich, thick, wild honey that you were compelled to lick off your finger. The kind that, even as a child, he’d never been able to resist.
When her lips opened for his, he dived in. Wanting more.
His hands weren’t soft. That was the first wayward thought that stumbled into her brain. They were hard and strong and just a little rough. She could feel those fingers pressed against the back of her neck. The skin there seemed to be on fire.
He pulled her closer, so that their bodies made one long shadow on the littered gravel. As
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