Hot on Her Heels. Сьюзен Мэллери
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table and standing.
She expected him to make a joke about her staying again, but he didn’t. Which was how she wanted things—at least that’s what she told herself.
He followed her to the front door, then shifted so he was between her and the handle. She found herself staring into his eyes.
He was taller than her, with broader shoulders and plenty of muscle. Intensely male. If she had to overpower him, she would need surprise on her side, and possibly a solid two-by-four.
“I, ah, thanks for dinner,” she murmured, feeling uncomfortable. This felt way too much like a date, which it wasn’t.
“You’re welcome. Tex-Mex next time?”
“Sure.”
She tried to inch around him, but he wasn’t moving. And she couldn’t seem to push him out of the way. Well, she could, of course, but it would be awkward, especially if he resisted. She should just say goodnight then stand there looking expectant. He would figure it out and move aside.
But as she opened her mouth to speak, he took a step toward her. Before she could move back, he reached up and lightly stroked the side of her face with the back of his fingers.
The unexpected contact glued her to the floor. She couldn’t run, couldn’t turn, couldn’t do anything but stand there feeling helpless and exposed. As if he had the power to control her.
She told herself he didn’t. He would never hurt her and should he try, she could nail him in the balls, draw her gun and change him from a stallion to a gelding in two seconds.
If she had to.
His dark eyes stared into hers. She had no idea what he saw there, but she hoped it wasn’t anything he could use against her. Despite his slow, gentle touch, she felt tense inside. What was he doing and why?
She told herself to step away, to push past him and get the hell out. But her body didn’t respond to the command and then he said the most extraordinary thing.
“Your mouth drives me crazy.”
She’d barely had time to absorb the words before he lowered his head and pressed his mouth against hers.
The good news was he stopped touching her face. The bad news was they were kissing.
The second she felt his lips on hers, it was as if someone had set the world on fire. There was heat and need and fiery sparks she could see even with her eyes closed. There was no contact anywhere else, which was fine with her. This was enough. Actually it was too much.
Her skin practically sizzled. She would swear she could hear music and feel the floor tilting. She wanted to throw her arms around him, pull him against her and shove her tongue in his mouth. She wanted to be naked, pressed up against the wall, being taken hard and fast until she screamed her surrender.
Dana reached out both hands, shoved him back and sucked in a breath. She’d never screamed in her life. She barely allowed herself to breathe hard. What the hell was going on?
Not that she planned to find out. She ducked around him, heading for the door, only Garth got there first. He grabbed her arm and held her still. She could have broken free easily, only she didn’t and that scared her more than anything else.
“Wait,” he said.
“No.”
Something hot flared in his eyes. “You felt it, too.”
“I didn’t feel anything. It’s late. I need to go.”
“It’s barely eight and you need to be here.”
She hated the fear. It reminded her of being young and terrified of what her father would do next. It made her feel powerless and that was the worst thing of all.
Her emotions must have shown on her face or Garth was a hell of a guesser because he dropped her arm and moved away from the door.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. It’s late.”
He picked up her hand and kissed her palm. It was as if he branded her. She knew in her gut she would carry the feel of his lips on her skin with her forever. When he released her, she curled her fingers closed.
She hesitated for a second, then turned to leave.
This time he didn’t stop her. She walked out into the hallway and the door closed behind her. She stood there, alone, aching with desire for the one man she could never have. Life, as always, had a killer sense of humor.
THE NEXT MORNING DANA followed Garth to work, but didn’t try to speak with him. She hadn’t slept much the night before and wasn’t up to one of their cryptic exchanges. Once she knew he was at the office, she returned to Titanville, thinking she would either try for a nap, or a really jumbo coffee to go.
But on her way to Starbucks, she passed the Titanville Pet Palace and saw Kathy Duncan entering the store.
Fifteen minutes later, Dana parked in front of the Pet Palace with her own coffee and a latte for Kathy, then went inside. She nodded to the young woman at the cash register and made her way to the rear where Kathy was talking softly to a large white bird.
“Good morning,” Dana said, handing over the coffee.
Kathy, a pretty woman in her late fifties, smiled broadly. “Dana. You came to see me. Thank you for the coffee.”
There was delight in her voice, along with a studied slowness. As if every word had to be considered before it was spoken and the act of speech itself was vaguely unfamiliar.
“You’re welcome.” Dana passed over the paper cup. “Extra foam. Just the way you like it.”
“I do like it.” Kathy tilted her head, her soft brown hair falling over her shoulder. “You need a pet. Not today. You’re not ready. But soon. Maybe a puppy, but you need a yard first. Don’t worry. You’ll get one.”
Dana did her best not to run screaming into the morning. Kathy was known to have an extraordinary sense about people and pets, putting unlikely pairs together. She’d insisted Lexi take home a kitten. Lexi had agreed with the idea, thinking she would give the animal away. But somehow that hadn’t happened and C.C. was as much a member of her family as Izzy or Skye.
“I’m not really a dog person,” Dana said. “I’m not home very much.”
“You will be,” Kathy said calmly. “When you have children.”
Dana resisted the need to make the sign of the cross and instead took a step back.
“Okay, then,” Dana muttered. “Ah, how are things?”
“Good. We have new birds. Not that you want one.” Kathy smiled. “But they’re very pretty.”
Dana smiled back, searching Kathy’s face for a hint of the woman who had existed before the tumor that had stolen her intellect. She looked for whispers of Garth. What had he inherited from his mother? If those echoes had left her, were they still in her son?
How could this all have been different? If Jed had agreed to pay for the surgery back before the need was so desperate, would Kathy still be herself? And if she was, how would Garth be a different man? Dana knew the need for revenge had changed him. Once he had won, would he change back? Or was he forever trapped by the need to exact compensation for a debt that could never be repaid?
CHAPTER FIVE
DANA SPENT ANOTHER NIGHT doing more tossing than sleeping. Shortly after five, she gave up the pretense and got in the shower. Twenty minutes later, she’d driven to Garth’s condo, mostly to pass the time. She had to follow him to work, anyway. Maybe a couple of quiet hours in her car would relax her.
She parked where she could see the exit from the underground parking garage, tuned into her favorite talk radio and leaned back in her seat. She’d just gotten comfortable and