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He stared straight into
her eyes and she caught a glimpse of something, a shadow of the heat they’d held
yesterday, just before he’d kissed her. Her eyes widened and her lips parted in
anticipation, but after a second, he dropped his gaze and took another sip of
beer.
But she couldn’t stop
her gaze from wandering over him. God, he was gorgeous. What a pair of jeans
could do for a guy. A pair of form-hugging jeans that looked soft enough for a
baby. And that black sweater stretched across his broad shoulders to perfection,
pushed to his elbows to show off strong forearms.
She swallowed
heavily and continued to his feet. How could the man make a pair of dingy old
Converse high-tops look sexy?
Her blood began a slow
simmer and her heart raced along. “Do you want to have a seat?”
Without waiting for his
answer, she walked toward the couch, hoping he’d follow. Slipping off her shoes,
she settled into the club chair. Mal sank onto the couch, resting one arm on the
back cushion.
“Janey, about what
happened.” He sounded apprehensive and his hand clenched the beer bottle as he
raised it for another swig. The hand on the back of the couch was a fist. He was
either nervous or angry. She couldn’t tell which. With any other man, she would
have been able to tell. She couldn’t read Mal.
“Janey…” He sighed,
still not facing her. “I can’t stop thinking about those kisses.”
Her eyes widened. She
would’ve bet the farm he wouldn’t have brought up those kisses again. Served her
right. She shouldn’t make assumptions. Especially not about this man. And now
she didn’t know what to say. He’d caught her off guard. This was not the way
she’d wanted this to go. She’d wanted to ease him into a conversation, get him
talking, get him to let his guard down. Interrogation was not her strong suit.
She didn’t have her mother’s knack for velvet-glove badgering or Nic’s hell-fire
intensity, but damn it, she’d weaseled information out of four-star generals and
street snitches. This man shouldn’t be a difficult target. Unless he had more to
hide than she’d thought.
He met her eyes and that
heat was back, blazing now. Her thighs clenched and it suddenly became almost
impossible to breathe. He had to be able to see exactly what she was thinking
but he didn’t push. Jeez, he didn’t need to push, because his next question made
the bottom drop out of her stomach.
“So, how do we do this?
How do we move forward? Without your family going ballistic and wanting to
string me up by my, ah, toes?”
She laughed. She
couldn’t help it. “I
have dated before, you know.
I’ve even been engaged—” her mouth twisted, “—though that was…a mistake.”
His eyes narrowed, and she wanted so
badly to look away. Instead, she forced herself to maintain that connection.
Her engagement was no
secret, but it certainly wasn’t anything she liked to talk about. That bastard
Gregor had done a number on her self-confidence and her ability to trust. She’d
been so stupid to fall for a playboy who’d seen her as a notch on his belt and,
worse, a meal ticket.
She couldn’t believe she
hadn’t seen beneath the smooth exterior to the utter shit he really was.
“Your family is welcome to
you,” Gregor had sneered after she’d given back his ring. “Your money just isn’t
worth it. Trust me, no one wants a woman who thinks she’s smarter than him. You
may be able to talk computers, babe, but no man wants to sleep with a woman who
gets wet over hard drives.”
“Any man who put that
look in your eyes doesn’t deserve you.” Mal’s voice sounded like a low growl.
And healed something deep inside. Setting her glass on the floor, she rose from
her chair and moved to sit next to him.
His gaze glued to hers,
she framed his face with her hands, glad they didn’t shake. His chin was smooth.
He must have shaved before dinner. This close, the faint hint of lime in his
aftershave worked on her senses like an aphrodisiac. It clouded her mind to
everything else.
She dropped her gaze to
his lips, slightly parted to draw in air. And kissed him.
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