Cat's Lair
Page 8

“I can take care of myself,” she muttered, sending Ridley a look that should have fried him on the spot. Not only did he not appear to fry, he looked a little amused.
She didn’t draw attention to herself. Not ever. Thanks to Ridley the entire room was aware of her as more than the barista, a body behind the coffee machine. She sighed and started the cleaning process. The coffee-house shut down at three and emptied. This time Ridley didn’t leave. He sat in the corner. She glanced up at him and scowled a couple of times, jerking her head toward him when David looked at her.
“He’s got to go, just like any other customer,” she hissed.
“I can hear you just fine,” Ridley said. “I’m walking home with you, so get used to it, Kitten. Just get your work done so we can get out of here.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” she demanded.
“No.” He didn’t even look up.
She shook her head, exasperated. Of course Jase would have to act like an ass in front of him and he’d use that to prove his point. She could have handled Jase, no problem.
She accepted her half of the tip money, shoving it into the pocket of her jeans. That much cash made her very happy. It was worth putting up with jerks like Jase until three in the morning to have extra money. She used every little bit she had to get extra lessons from Malcom. She’d been practicing a lot with her gun. That required time at the local range as well as ammunition. It didn’t come cheap.
Ridley fell into step beside her. She shot him a look from under her lashes. “You really don’t have to do this.”
“If you feel as if you owe me something, say thanks.”
“I feel as if I’d like to hit you over the head because clearly you aren’t listening,” she countered. It just burst out of her when she’d promised no sass. No attitude.
Just like earlier, his eyes immediately focused on her. He didn’t slow down. Didn’t miss a step, but suddenly his golden eyes were fixed on her with the same amused speculation. Total interest. And this time there was something else smoldering in his eyes. Something hot and sexy that sent a wave of fire rushing through her body, burning through her nerve endings and centering squarely between her legs like the hottest fireball imaginable.
Her breath hitched in her lungs. She kept her eyes on the sidewalk, shocked. Embarrassed. Terrified. He brought out something wild in her. Something uninhibited. Something she wanted no part of.
“I’m listening, woman. I’ll always listen to anything you have to say. You’re just talking a lot of crap right now so I’m dismissing what you have to say as the crap it is. Jase and his friends could just as easily be waiting for you. You don’t want them following you home, knowing where you live.”
“I’d know. I always know. I’ve been followed before and I handled it.”
He stopped abruptly, his fingers settling around her wrist, dragging her to a halt. “What the hell did you just say?” he demanded.
She blinked up at him. Major mistake revealing that piece of information. She should have kept that to herself. She licked her suddenly dry lips. Her heart pounded. She didn’t know how to defuse his anger. In his quiet, cool way he was angry, and that was more terrifying than if he’d yelled. It wasn’t his business, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Something you need to know about me, Kitten. I don’t have a lot of patience. When I ask you something, I need you to answer. It isn’t that damned difficult. Just tell me what happened and how you handled it.”
His gold eyes burned like a flame, boring through her body. She licked her lips again. His hand tightened.
“And stop that. That’s going to get your ass in trouble. Just talk, Cat, say what I need to hear.”
She leveled a glare at him. “You are not in the least bit Zen, Ridley. Not even a little bit, and you have crushed one of my fantasies. I have to tell you, that’s just plain sad because I could work with that for a very long time.”
He blinked. He never blinked. Never broke his stare. That was one of the first observations she’d made about him, and he definitely blinked. Amusement crept right through all the sparkling anger.
“You thought I was Zen?” He began walking again, taking her with him, walking so close she could feel the heat of his body. He hadn’t relinquished her wrist, rather his hand slid down her arm to take possession of her fingers.
“The Zen master,” she said, “Which, by the way, was really cool, and now you’ve blown that all to hell.”
“So you were having fantasies about me?” The amusement definitely deepened.
She sent him a look of sheer reprimand from under her long lashes. “Newsflash for you, Ridley, every woman has fantasies about you. That’s your gift. But the fact that you just blew one of the biggest parts of my daydreams about you took your hotness down a notch or two. Zen was very ‘it’ for me. You rocked that cool vibe.”
“You have fantasies and daydreams about me?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know you’re freakin’ hot. The way you look at women, there’s not a doubt in my mind they’re all over you, and you’ve got that hound dog disdain.”
His eyebrow shot up. “Woman. You cannot tell me I’m the thing of fantasies in one breath and say I’m a hound dog in the next.”
She gave him a serious look. “They aren’t mutually exclusive. You are, right? A player? A hound dog? The kind of man who kicks a woman out of his bed right after sex and then loses her phone number?”