things she did. Things that neither of them had ever had.
Could it be they might find them with each other?
"I'm sorry, Neil," she said compassionately. "I'm so sorry."
Why was he too quiet? And why did she feel him shiver before he rolled himself back on top of her and sit right on her hips?
"Don't you dare pity me," he said in a gritty, unsteady voice. His rough fingers yanked open the mother-of-pearl snaps of her shirt. "Pity yourself, chere, for being the object of my current desire. I've never wanted a woman as bad as you, and I always get what I want."
Chapter 7
Neil had one hell of a surprise. For such a little bit of a woman, she had an amazing amount of strength. His head was still spinning and he was still blinking when he found himself lying on his back, with her standing above him and her foot wedged between his legs.
"How'd you do that?" Neil demanded uneasily. He could hear the sound of her catching breaths while she rebuttoned her shirt.
"Jujitsu." She sniffled and that disturbed him more than the threat created by her foot. "Four semesters, Slick."
"Are you crying?"
"No."
"Good. I hate it when a woman cries."
"In that case, yes. Yes, I'm crying. And it's your fault. Proud of yourself?"
"Hell, no! I've been nicer to you than I ever thought about being to anyone else. Certainly nicer than you've been to me so far. Here I offer to put you up in style, no strings attached, and what do I get for that? A heel in my crotch. Now, just what the hell are you cryin' for?"
"You don't want to know."
"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked. Lay it on me. And while you're at it, I'd appreciate you putting your foot elsewhere. I prefer to suck toes minus the leather. Please keep that in mind for future reference."
"How cocky can you get?" she managed between sobs.
"If you put on any more pressure with that foot, there's not gonna be one worth crowing about." He heard a small hiccup and an even smaller chuckle before she spun around and ran to the door. It banged shut just as he got to his feet.
"Andrea! Andrea, get yourself back here." He threw open the door and stared at the empty hallway. Hearing the rapid clicking of her heels over hardwood floor, he followed. "We've got some business to settle, and—ah hell, just don't expect me to grovel and ask your understanding for something I don't understand myself."
By the time he was outside the bar, all he could see was a jostling crowd swallowing up a flash of red hair in the distance. With a curse he locked up and took off after her, never more thankful that he stood taller than most. He quickened his pace, dodging the stream of partiers.
Andrea ducked past a sleazy barker and into a novelty shop. Neil was winded by the time he saw her crouched down in front of a souvenir display. He picked up a T-shirt off the rack near her hiding place and dangled it in front of her face.
"Sure you wouldn't rather have one of these? My treat."
"'Shuck Me, Suck Me, Eat Me Raw'?" she said in those snooty clipped accents of hers, apparently unimpressed with his peace offering. The garment showed a crawdad and tips on how to eat it.
"I like 'em better cooked myself." He dropped the T-shirt into her lap, meaning for her to have it whether she wanted it or not. "Tell you what, Lou's got a shrimp and crawdad boil planned next Sunday. I've got a sub sitting in onstage, so why not take off the day and come with me? I'll teach you how to eat a crawdad. Be nice, and I'll even feed you a few. Not only that, I won't dock your wage. I'm willing to pay you to keep me company."
"No thank you for the invitation and no thank you for the shirt." She flung it up at him, and he caught it in the face.
When he glowered down at her, she stood and fixed her gaze on an array of porcelain dolls. After studying them too intently, she carefully took one from its stand. Dressed as a court jester in purple velvet and gold satin, the delicate Harlequin figure coaxed a
Could it be they might find them with each other?
"I'm sorry, Neil," she said compassionately. "I'm so sorry."
Why was he too quiet? And why did she feel him shiver before he rolled himself back on top of her and sit right on her hips?
"Don't you dare pity me," he said in a gritty, unsteady voice. His rough fingers yanked open the mother-of-pearl snaps of her shirt. "Pity yourself, chere, for being the object of my current desire. I've never wanted a woman as bad as you, and I always get what I want."
Chapter 7
Neil had one hell of a surprise. For such a little bit of a woman, she had an amazing amount of strength. His head was still spinning and he was still blinking when he found himself lying on his back, with her standing above him and her foot wedged between his legs.
"How'd you do that?" Neil demanded uneasily. He could hear the sound of her catching breaths while she rebuttoned her shirt.
"Jujitsu." She sniffled and that disturbed him more than the threat created by her foot. "Four semesters, Slick."
"Are you crying?"
"No."
"Good. I hate it when a woman cries."
"In that case, yes. Yes, I'm crying. And it's your fault. Proud of yourself?"
"Hell, no! I've been nicer to you than I ever thought about being to anyone else. Certainly nicer than you've been to me so far. Here I offer to put you up in style, no strings attached, and what do I get for that? A heel in my crotch. Now, just what the hell are you cryin' for?"
"You don't want to know."
"If I didn't want to know, I wouldn't have asked. Lay it on me. And while you're at it, I'd appreciate you putting your foot elsewhere. I prefer to suck toes minus the leather. Please keep that in mind for future reference."
"How cocky can you get?" she managed between sobs.
"If you put on any more pressure with that foot, there's not gonna be one worth crowing about." He heard a small hiccup and an even smaller chuckle before she spun around and ran to the door. It banged shut just as he got to his feet.
"Andrea! Andrea, get yourself back here." He threw open the door and stared at the empty hallway. Hearing the rapid clicking of her heels over hardwood floor, he followed. "We've got some business to settle, and—ah hell, just don't expect me to grovel and ask your understanding for something I don't understand myself."
By the time he was outside the bar, all he could see was a jostling crowd swallowing up a flash of red hair in the distance. With a curse he locked up and took off after her, never more thankful that he stood taller than most. He quickened his pace, dodging the stream of partiers.
Andrea ducked past a sleazy barker and into a novelty shop. Neil was winded by the time he saw her crouched down in front of a souvenir display. He picked up a T-shirt off the rack near her hiding place and dangled it in front of her face.
"Sure you wouldn't rather have one of these? My treat."
"'Shuck Me, Suck Me, Eat Me Raw'?" she said in those snooty clipped accents of hers, apparently unimpressed with his peace offering. The garment showed a crawdad and tips on how to eat it.
"I like 'em better cooked myself." He dropped the T-shirt into her lap, meaning for her to have it whether she wanted it or not. "Tell you what, Lou's got a shrimp and crawdad boil planned next Sunday. I've got a sub sitting in onstage, so why not take off the day and come with me? I'll teach you how to eat a crawdad. Be nice, and I'll even feed you a few. Not only that, I won't dock your wage. I'm willing to pay you to keep me company."
"No thank you for the invitation and no thank you for the shirt." She flung it up at him, and he caught it in the face.
When he glowered down at her, she stood and fixed her gaze on an array of porcelain dolls. After studying them too intently, she carefully took one from its stand. Dressed as a court jester in purple velvet and gold satin, the delicate Harlequin figure coaxed a
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