Savor the Danger
Page 82

Her incredible mouth formed a smile. “Arizona. Yours?”
Now she wanted to be cordial? No reason not to play along, especially if it meant he’d get to hold her longer. “Spencer.”
“Nice to meet you, Spence.”
“Spencer,” he corrected. But the grin tugged at his mouth. He had to ask. “How old are you?”
“Old enough.” She relaxed in his arms, unconcerned, arrogant. “You?”
“Too old.” At least for her. At least…he thought so. He did not relax his hold to match her more casual pose; that was one of the oldest tricks in the book. “Define old enough.”
“Twenty, actually.” She let one beat pass, and then, “Define too old.”
Not even legal yet, so what was she doing in the bar? “Thirty-two.”
“Oh yeah, that’s ancient.” She shifted, tipping her head to the side. “So Spence—”
“Spencer.”
“Anything else you want to know about me?”
He wanted to know all kinds of things. “Is Arizona your real name? It’s unusual.”
“Yeah, I know. Jackson gave it to me.”
“Jackson?” A husband? A cohort? A pimp? He didn’t like any of those possibilities.
“This white-knight dude I know. My own name was used up, so…he came up with Arizona.”
“Used up?” At only twenty, how could that be? But he knew, and it both sickened and saddened him.
She wrinkled her nose, looked down at his chest. “Forget that.”
He shook his head. “I know what it means, Arizona.” The urge to open his hands over her back, to stroke her, comfort her, made him twitchy. “So you’re in hiding?” He put his nose closer to her temple and breathed in the scent of her. “From what?”
She clammed up tight.
Spencer sorted through all she’d said—and damn it, he believed her, even though most of it didn’t make any sense. There was something about her, some sense of defiance that bespoke great hardship. “Okay, forget the name thing.” He’d work that one out later, when she didn’t fill his arms. “Define white knight for me.”
“You know, a do-gooder. Out to save a world that can’t be saved.”
“It can’t?” He often felt the same, but hearing that bleak acceptance in her voice cut into his soul. No one so young should be so cynical.
“The best you can hope for is to chip away at the…” She stopped, drew a deep breath. “Look, Spence, I’m kind of tired of hanging here in your grasp. Now that I answered your questions, you wanna loosen it up a little?”
“Not really, no.” But he knew he had to, or he’d be crossing the line…more than he’d already crossed it. He spun her around so her back was to his chest. She had a great ass to go with the great rack, perky and firm and rounded just right. It stirred long dormant carnality, prompting him to his senses. “But I will.”
He released her so fast, she stumbled. When she turned, he was already out of her reach.
“Afraid of me?” she taunted.
“I like the family jewels just as they are, without them being rearranged by your knee.”
Disgust had her looking away from him. “I missed anyway.”
“Doesn’t mean you’d miss a second time.” It wouldn’t hurt to throw her a bone. “You almost got me. It’s just that I’m—” he shrugged “—fast.”
“And strong,” she agreed. “You know, I expected you and the bouncer brute to do some battle.”
Gently, he told her, “No.”
“Yeah, I realize that now.” She moved over to lean against a fence post. “So, what are you doing here?”
Why not tell her? She seemed as curious about him as he was about her. “Ferreting out info, actually.” He took a step closer, not relaxing his guard but hoping she might. “You?”
“Until you interfered, I was doing the same.”
His blood ran cold. The indifferent way she said that, as if it were the norm for a breathtakingly gorgeous twenty-year-old girl to snoop around in a lowlife bar that catered to the criminal element left him scared for her. “No.”
“Why not?” Disdain dripped from her words. “You think you’re more capable than me?”
“Yes.” Breathing faster, he edged toward her. “I know I am.”
In a whisper, she said, “Sorry, Spence, but you are oh so wrong.”
With no other warning, she lunged forward, locking her hands together and swinging her doubled fists up and around to pop him in the chin.
For such a dainty girl, she knew how to pack a wallop.
Since he hadn’t seen it coming, he didn’t brace for it. His head snapped back, throwing him off balance. His feet slid on the gravel before he found purchase again and righted himself.
Blindly he reached out; his fingertips brushed the ends of her long hair as she sprinted away.
Damn it. He tried to give chase—why, he didn’t know—but the darkness swallowed her.
He stopped to listen and wasn’t surprised that she made very little noise.
She had skills, and that, as much as anything, left him throbbing with curiosity.
He turned at the sound of a car door opening and closing again. Headlights came on, lighting the distant reaches well beyond the parking lot. A car engine started. Gravel spit as she revved the engine, and then she sped away.