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“It’s just, that was like…a date. And he was supposed to pay... and I… I need to get the manager to let me go to my car and see if my wallet—”
So now we’re full circle.
“You think I’d offer to pay for your drink and not your dinner?” I growl, and she falls silent, staring at me like she’s considering making a run for it.
Give it a try, little one. I love a good chase.
I should have pre-empted this. She never has to worry about paying for another thing, not here or anywhere else in her life.
“Come with me.” I push up from my chair and reach for her other hand before she can protest.
“Oh no you don’t. I’m not going to dine and dash with you, mister. I have to pay the bill. He ordered the tasting menu. For one.” She tugs her hand from mine, then pokes two fingers toward her eyes before swinging them back at me. “See, I knew you were suspect!”
Her half-cocked smile tells me if I’m going to push it, she’d go full on with me and head for the door, ride or die all the way, but that’s not my plan.
“Come on.” I’m on my feet, grabbing her bag off the back of the chair.
I secure it over my shoulder, because I’ve known enough women in my life to know they will follow their purse across hot coals, so it’s insurance in case she thinks she’s getting away from me.
I start toward the back of the restaurant and like I planned, she’s on my heels in an instant, her eyes on my new accessory.
“Wait.” She stalls a few steps from the table, drawing more glances from the patrons who are clearly waiting for the second act to start. “You’re not a cop, are you? Oh my God! You’re like…security here, aren’t you?”
She regards me from behind those long dark lashes. I love the fact that she’s wearing one little gold hoop on one ear and a ladybug earring on the other, and don’t fucking get me started on the red dress that melts around her curves, daring me to bend her over right here and show my dick its new home.
She sucks in an open-mouthed breath, staring up at me. “You are! You are so a cop! You have that dirty cop sort of look. Undercover, maybe. Homicide, definitely. I’m going to pay. You were trying to see if I’d walk out on my tab, weren’t you? That’s entrapment. And, by the way…” She licks her lips, giving me a hard stare, then nods toward her purse over my shoulder. “Blue is your color. Brings out the psychopath in your eyes.”
First, I’m a cop, then a psychopath. She’s chaos and perfection, and I can’t wait to unravel all those messy layers.
“You done?”
“I’m never done,” she snaps, and I know she’s telling the fucking truth.
Fuck. A thousand burning questions slither like snakes inside me. Things I want to know. Need to know. But all that will have to wait, because right now I just need to get her out of this room and somehow secure her into my life without scaring the ever-loving shit out of her.
“I’m not a cop.” I try to put her at ease, but she’s not so easily swayed. “This is my sister’s restaurant. Now, come on, stop being a pain in the ass.”
My rough tone seems to snap her out of the moment, and I see a cocktail of disbelief and desire mixing behind those wide doe eyes that have me mesmerized and pussy-whipped before I even get my greedy dick inside her.
“Me? I’m the pain in the ass? You’re the one acting like some alpha bosshole. Guys like you are usually compensating for something, you know…” Her sassy spark turns into wide-eyed wonder as her eyes dart down to my tented pants.
She falls silent, lips open, and I take my chance. I grab her arm and lead her the rest of the way through the restaurant, just as the low music from the surrounding speakers starts playing a horrible instrumental rendition of Madonna’s, “Like a Virgin”.
I bet she is. I fucking bet so. And I’m going to find out, soon enough.
Chapter Five
Natalie
He drags me down a back hallway to an open door leading into the kitchen. The place is roasting hot, filled with steam, the sound of sizzling pans, bustling movement and a ferocious little woman checking plates and shouting orders at the staff, tossing out curse words like Mardi Gras beads.
Her eyes flick our way as we pass, and there’s a moment of disbelief in her gaze before she nods at the sexy but overbearing guy I’m toddling behind. Before I can even ask his name or where we are going, he’s barreling through a door, slamming it behind us, and flicking on the lights.
“Jesus,” I manage, more out of breath than if I’d just been chased by a serial killer. “You’re bossy and handsy.”
“My sister’s office.” He turns, spinning me toward him, and his blue eyes bore right into the center of my soul. He backs me up against the desk, and I feel the wooden edge bite into my butt. “She runs the restaurant, but I’m her silent partner.”
Those eyes. God, those eyes. Not just blue. Topaz or turquoise. Sort of otherworldly, surrounded by dark lashes and lust. And I’m sure they have some superpower because I keep losing the ability to speak and that’s never happened to me before.
