Sex Appeal. Lori Foster

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Sex Appeal - Lori Foster


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released her to shove his hands in his pockets. His sigh was long and heartfelt. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

      Shadow turned her back on him. This was when he would start issuing ultimatums. She wanted to see him again, and she hadn’t lied about wanting him. She did, more than she could remember wanting a man in a long, long time. But she also had deeply ingrained morals, and sleeping with a man she hardly knew went against everything she believed right and proper. Never mind that she felt she’d known him forever.

      * * *

      BRENT STARED AT SHADOW’S dejected stance. Withdrawn? Shadow? Not a chance. It had to be simply another part of the game she enjoyed playing. He said easily, “I better be going. I’ll see you tonight at Reba’s. And Shadow?”

      She turned, her surprise evident.

      “Don’t be late.”

      “You still want to see me tonight?”

      With a crooked grin, Brent moved toward her. Touching one finger to her soft mouth, he whispered, “Most definitely. But for my peace of mind, I think we should keep the kissing to a minimum.” He laughed. “My libido just can’t take all these sudden changes.”

      IT WAS TEN MINUTES after seven, and the parking lot was dark and icy cold. Shadow couldn’t believe her luck, had in fact been cursing the lack of it for the past fifteen minutes.

      Leaving her ’66 Mustang convertible, a beauty she had always loved until now, Shadow slammed the door. It made a hollow, echoing sound across the deserted lot. The main parking area had plenty of spaces in it, but she preferred to leave her car in the back. It was less convenient to the entrance of the shops, but out of harm’s way from heavy traffic and loose shopping carts.

      Shadow shivered as she hurried across the pavement, holding her coat collar tight around her throat. Brent would think she’d stood him up, when that was the very last thing she’d do.

      Kallie was already gone, the shop locked up. Wednesday was their only early evening, every other night of the week they were open till nine, except Sunday, when they worked only a half day. Rather than go to the bother of reopening the shop, Shadow stepped into a phone booth and closed the door so the light would come on. With numb fingers she flipped through the phone book until she found the listing for Reba’s. Her teeth were chattering by the time she managed to dial the number and get an answer.

      It was no surprise that she had to wait several minutes before Brent could be located. The restaurant-bar was busy in the early evening. Shadow felt such relief when Brent finally came to the phone, she actually sank back against the icy glass wall of the phone booth.

      “Shadow?”

      “Oh, Brent, I—I—I’m so sorry.”

      There was a heavy silence, then with some urgency, he demanded, “Are you all right?”

      “I—I’m fine. Just f-freezing. My stupid car won’t start. I d-d-didn’t want you to think I’d stood you up.”

      Another pause, and Brent asked, “Where are you?”

      “I’m outside the sh-shop. I’ve already locked it up for the night…. Brent?”

      “I’m trying to figure out how long it’ll take me to get to you. I’m still new to the area, remember.”

      “You don’t have to—”

      “Yes I do.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Get in your car and lock the doors. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

      “I could call a cab.”

      “I won’t argue with you, Shadow. Do as I told you and I’ll be there in about five minutes.”

      She stared at the phone, appalled by his preemptory gall. She was more than ready to tell him what she thought, despite the bitter cold, when the phone went dead.

      She returned the receiver to its cradle. Five minutes? Only if he sped. More like ten, probably. Bracing herself for the blast of bone-chilling cold, Shadow left the dubious comfort of the phone booth and hurried back to her car. She immediately locked herself inside—which she would have done with or without his instruction.

      It was only about four minutes later when she saw the man approaching. But it wasn’t Brent; she was certain of that. He wasn’t nearly tall enough, didn’t have Brent’s long-legged, purposeful stride. The lighting at this section of the lot was dim, not quite reaching into the corner where she’d parked. Shadow stared, wide-eyed, as a face came into view.

      The stocking cap pulled over his forehead and the scarf around his neck concealed his features until he stood directly in front of her window. He gave a broad smile and motioned for her to roll down the window.

      With immense relief, Shadow recognized him.

      “Hi,” she called through the window.

      He leaned against her door, propped his arms on the window frame and stared in at her. “You need some help?”

      She shook her head. “No, everything’s fine.”

      Again, he motioned for her to roll down the window.

      The lie came easily to her lips. “I can’t,” she called loudly. “It’s broken.”

      He frowned then, but said, “Open your door. I’ll see if I can fix your car.”

      Again she lied. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m just waiting for someone.”

      He seemed surprised by her answer. He straightened, stalked two steps away from the car, but quickly returned. There was a distinct scowl on his features now. “Open the door,” he said again, and added, “I need to talk to you about the contest.”

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