When We Met
Page 10

She was about to head into the hotel when she hesitated a fraction of a second. Then she saw the driver and blinked in surprise. It was Angel. Once again dressed in black and looking very man-about-town.
She waited until he joined her, then glanced back at the SUV being driven away.
“Unexpected,” she said.
“Long story. I’ll tell you over dinner.”
“Don’t tell me you sold the Harley.”
“Never. I still have it.”
He took her hand in his and looked her over carefully. She struck a model’s pose, then half turned so he could see the back.
She’d bought the dress the previous year, but it was still one of her favorites. A Halston Heritage white knit sheath, with black panels along the side and a black band at the jewel neckline. She’d kept her jewelry simple with gold-and-onyx earrings and a gold link bracelet from Tiffany.
Her shoes were one of her favorites. A Jimmy Choo Vero pump. The front was white, the back was black and there was a gold trim that swept across the top of the shoes before looping around to the back.
“Damn,” Angel said. “You don’t mess around.”
“What?” she asked, glancing down at her dress. “This is casual.”
He gave her a slow, knowing smile. “Naked is casual. This is a show.”
“Then I hope you’re entertained.”
“More than you know.”
He released her fingers, then placed his palm on the small of her back. “Shall we?”
They walked through the lobby to the rear of the hotel where Henri’s was located. It was a restaurant to go to for ambience and food, not the view, Taryn thought as they were shown to a booth in a back corner.
The space was subtly lit with soft music and the kind of waitstaff that prided itself on excellent service.
Once they were seated, a forty-something woman took their drink orders before disappearing as quietly as she’d arrived.
Taryn leaned back in the booth and crossed her legs. The one disadvantage of her dress was that it tended to ride up a little if she wasn’t careful. Although tonight that might be a good thing. Angel played the game well. Maybe too well. She had expected to be the one in charge.
Which was the problem, she thought. If she was in charge, she had trouble being interested. She was the boss during the day. She didn’t want that same role at night. But giving up control left her feeling vulnerable and uncomfortable, so she avoided relationships where the man wanted control. Probably why she was thirty-four and had never been in love. The emotion required too much of her.
“That’s a lot of thinking,” Angel said, his cool gray eyes studying her face.
“I’m working things out.” She tilted her head. “Explain the SUV.”
He surprised her by sighing deeply. “You know that old saying ‘no good deed goes unpunished’?”
She nodded.
“A couple of weeks ago I talked to Mayor Marsha about getting involved in town. I wanted a volunteer activity.”
And the surprises kept on coming, Taryn thought.
Angel’s expression turned sheepish. “It’s how I was raised. Small town, people took care of each other. Once I knew I was staying here, I wanted to be helping people. She suggested the Future Warriors of the Máa-zib.”
Taryn laughed. “Future what? Are you serious? Is this weapons training for teenaged boys?”
“I wish. I figured it was a program for young men.” He hesitated for a second, making her think there was something he wasn’t telling her, but then he continued. “There are stages. Acorns, Sprouts and so on up to Mighty Oaks. The adult is called a Grove Keeper.”
Angel was a big, scary guy. He had scars and secrets and he was the last person she could imagine volunteering to work with children. The fact that he had done so made her even more interested in him.
“Good for you. So what’s the problem? I can’t imagine you being worried about a bunch of unruly boys.”
Angel shifted on his seat. “They’re not boys. They’re girls. Little girls. My Acorns are seven-year-old girls. They earn beads for activities. The keeper handbook is pink.” He began to speak faster and the tone of his voice tightened. “They’re supposed to learn regular stuff like knots and map reading, but there are also beads for face painting and families and...” He paused, then shuddered. “The feminine cycle.”
Taryn was relieved their drinks hadn’t arrived yet, because if she’d been drinking, she knew she would have started to choke. As it was, laughter spilled out of her. “The feminine cycle?”
He glared at her. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh yeah. It is.”
“We don’t talk about the cycle this year.”
“Good, because seven seems a touch early. So you’re a Grove Keeper.”
Their server arrived with a vodka martini for her and a Scotch for him. She asked if they would like more time before ordering. Taryn nodded through bursts of laughter.
“I tried to get out of it,” Angel admitted when they were alone. “What the hell was Mayor Marsha thinking? I don’t know anything about little girls. I’m in over my head. Denise Hendrix is in charge of the council. The first season is only two months and she wants me to see it through. Then I can quit and they’ll find someone else for the girls.”
“So it’s only for two months. That’s something.”
He glared at her. “I’m not a bead kind of guy.”
She lightly stroked his upper arm, mentally giving herself a moment to enjoy the warm skin over impressive muscle. “You’ll be fine. They’re just little girls.”
“Easy for you to say. You used to be one.”
Physically, Taryn thought. She’d been a child. But emotionally, she’d never been young. She hadn’t had the chance. In her house, being vulnerable meant dangerous things. She’d grown up fast and had learned the value of remaining invisible as much as possible.
But that wasn’t Angel’s problem and it wasn’t as if she was going to tell him about her past. No one knew about her father—not even Jack.
He reached for his Scotch, then put it down. “That’s why I got the SUV. In case I have to drive them somewhere.”
“Your Acorns?” she asked, her voice teasing.
“I can’t stick one on the back of a Harley. I went online and checked out safety ratings. The Traverse scores high and it seats eight.”
“You sound like a soccer mom.”
“Go ahead. Kick me when I’m down.”
His concern was sweet, she thought. A depth she wouldn’t have expected. He was—
A thought popped into her mind. A crazy one that was so unexpected it might work for both of them.
She angled toward him. “Jack and Kenny are wooing a new client,” she told him. “Living Life at a Run. They’re a smaller version of REI. More equipment than clothes, but a nice get for us. We’ve never been big in retail.”
“Congratulations.”
“We don’t have them yet, but if we can get them, it would be great. The owner is a big outdoor guy. He’s insisting on a camping weekend with the principals of the company before signing on the dotted line.”
Angel’s gaze locked on her face. “Camping?”
She nodded.
“You?”
“I know. It’s not my thing.”
He chuckled. “Wait until he gets a look at your shoes.”
“I know I won’t wear heels camping.”
“How much else do you know?”
“Next to nothing. But you’re a big outdoor guy.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “You want to go camping?”
“No, I want to offer you a deal.”
His hand moved from the table to her bare knee with lightning speed. She felt the warmth of his skin on hers, along with a distinct clenching between her thighs. And this was all without him even trying. Imagine how much trouble she would be in if he put a little back into it.
She knew she had to clear her throat before she could speak. Rather than let him know how he affected her, she took a sip of her martini, then gave a little cough.
“I’ll help you with the Acorns and you help me get proficient enough with the outdoors so I can fake my way through a camping weekend,” she said.
“Done.”
She laughed. “You don’t want to think about it?”
“Hell, no. You’re talking about learning how to hike and maybe kayak. I have two months of weekly sessions with seven-year-old girls. It’s not a fair trade for you, but I don’t care. You offered and I’m saying yes.”
“You’re very obsessed with their ages.”
“They’re babies.”
She pretended to look concerned. “You do realize most seven-year-old girls are already dating these days, right?”
His mouth dropped open. “No way.”
She laughed again. “Just messing with you because I can.”
The palm on her knee moved toward her thigh in a very steady, very purposeful way. His hand was large, his fingers long. Suddenly nothing was very funny and she found herself wondering if they could get a room upstairs. Just for an hour or two. Or five.
He stopped at the hem of her dress. Just stopped. He didn’t move, didn’t hint that there was more. Even so, she found herself breathing a little faster. His gaze held hers captive.
“You were saying?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Good.”
She nodded. “You like that you get to me.” Normally she wouldn’t have admitted anything like that, but why ignore the obvious?
“It makes things equal between us.”
“You’re saying I get to you?”
“Why would you think otherwise?”
Because every woman had doubts, she thought. She put her hand on top of his. “Now what?”
“Now we order dinner.”
He pulled back his hand, then reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. He leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek, then he spoke very quietly.
“Of course I want you, Taryn. I’m breathing, aren’t I? Because it would take being dead to not want you. You told me you wanted me to work for it and I’m more than willing to do that. To wait to feel your skin against mine, your mouth, your breasts, all of you. But when we are together, it’s going to be my way. It’s going to be slow. There won’t be an inch of you I won’t touch, won’t please. I want to learn everything you like and then figure out how to do it so well I can make you come anytime, anywhere. And I will.”
It was both a challenge and a promise, she thought, as a shiver trickled down her back. Her br**sts tightened as they seemed to get heavier, and the very center of her began to ache and swell.
She turned her head to face him and found their mouths were inches apart. “That’s an ambitious goal.”
“Go big or go home.”
“I thought it was Semper Fi.”
“That’s the Marines.”
His eyes were made up of a thousand shades of gray. He had a handful of small scars on his cheek and forehead. His mouth was perfectly shaped.
She raised her hand and traced the scar on his neck with her thumb. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
He slipped his hand through her long black hair and cupped the back of her head. “I want you,” he breathed. “And I’ll wait.”
Part of her wanted to protest. Not waiting seemed like an excellent idea. But the rest of her wanted to see where this all would lead. When it came to her romantic or sexual relationships, it seemed that all she was doing was going through the motions. Whatever happened with Angel, she would find herself on one hell of a ride. Maybe that was the solution.
But that wasn’t to say she was going to make it easy.
She shifted so she was more angled toward him. She drew one leg up, resting her thigh on the seat, parting her legs slightly. Her dress rode up obligingly.
She took the hand that had been on her leg and put it back on her bare skin, then guided it higher until his fingers came in contact with the hot, damp wisp of silk that was her thong.
She’d thought to shock him, to make him squirm. But instead of hesitating, he slid two fingers under the elastic and brushed them unerringly against her swollen, hungry core.
Heat and need shot through her. She had a bad feeling she both flushed and gasped as need threatened to take control. He touched her again, rubbing more firmly once, twice, three more times, then withdrew his hand.
“Think you’re playing with a kid?” he asked, his eyes bright with confidence.
She faced front and tugged down her dress. “No. I was making a point.”
“Me, too.”
And he’d won, damn him. Instead of rattling him, she was the one who wanted to squirm. She had to hold on to her martini with both hands to keep from grabbing his hand and shoving it back under the table so he could keep touching her. She’d never in her life wanted to have sex in a public place, but apparently exceptions could be made.
What was it that he’d just told her? That he would learn how to make her come anytime, anywhere? So much for delusions of grandeur, she thought grimly. From that very brief demonstration it looked as though Angel was going to make good on his word.
* * *
“WHAT?” LARISSA ASKED the next morning when she and Taryn met for breakfast. “Didn’t you sleep?”
So much for her new “look refreshed” concealer technique, Taryn thought. “No. I had things on my mind.”