Looking for Trouble. Victoria Dahl
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his skin, and he realized he was still holding her hand.
“The museum, huh?” She slipped her hand from his grip, but she did it slowly.
Was this little thing flirting with him? The slide of her fingertips over his palm left him feeling decidedly inclined to flirt back.
“Do I look like I work at a museum, Mr. Bishop?”
He used her question as an excuse to look her up and down again. The little button-down dress kept her all covered up, but the black sweater hugged her narrow waist, emphasizing that there were hips beneath it. Very nice female hips that made the skirt flare out a little. “Yeah. You do. But a museum I’d really love to come visit.”
Yes, she was definitely flirting. Her mouth stretched to a pleased smile. “Really? What about visiting the library? I try not to judge, but you don’t look like the kind of guy who hangs out in libraries too often.”
A librarian? Shit. An honest-to-goodness small-town librarian? Alex had to tamp down the wolfish grin that wanted to take over his face. This girl was adorable. And her gaze was now touching brightly on his bike. She’d probably never been on a motorcycle. Maybe she wanted to find out what it was like.
He quickly checked her ring finger and saw no evidence of commitment. “Want a ride?”
Her eyes sparkled as they moved over the bike again, but she shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Come on. The bike’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Her eyes still roamed over the gleaming chrome frame before they moved right over to him and all the way up his body. She studied his face for a moment, looking straight into his eyes without any shyness at all. Then she sighed with what sounded like genuine regret. “No. I can’t. A strange man inviting me for a ride? What kind of girl do you think I am?”
Damn. Alex had no idea what kind of girl she was...except that she was the kind of girl who said something like that with a tiny smile on her face. Jesus.
“Sophie...” he started, but she shook her head.
“It was a pleasure to meet you.” She slipped her hand into his again and shook it.
“Meet me somewhere for a drink? Dinner? I owe you something to make up for the rest of my family.”
“Oh, you owe me?” One eyebrow arched in an enticing challenge.
“Obviously. I don’t know what she’s done, but you’re clearly fed up. And if you meet me somewhere, you won’t have to worry about getting on the back of a bike with a strange man.”
Her eyes flickered to the bike again. She wanted a ride. Badly.
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. People will talk.”
“People will talk?” This girl really was living in a time warp.
“Yes, they’ll...” She seemed to catch herself and crossed her arms, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
Alex ran a hand over his shaved head. “You mean because of how I look? The bike and the tattoos and—?”
“The tattoos?” She looked him over quickly, a flick of the eyes, as if she could see beneath his jacket if she looked hard enough. Hell, all she had to do was ask nicely. But she hadn’t asked. Yet.
He watched her swallow as if her mouth had gone dry. Lust crawled down his belly.
He’d asked her to dinner out of curiosity, but now... Now he really wanted to take this girl out. “We’ll go someplace quiet,” he said, leaning a little closer. “And I promise not to tell.”
She looked away, gazing down the street. He was sure she was about to offer a cool “No,” but then she looked up the street, as well. She wasn’t avoiding his gaze, she was checking to see who was watching.
“I’m meeting my girlfriends for dinner.”
“And after?” he dared, hearing a hint of acquiescence in her voice.
“After,” she murmured, then her eyes rose to meet his. “There’s a big tourist place up the block. The Bucking Bronco.”
“I know it,” he said quickly.
“I’ll meet you for one drink. At the upstairs bar.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. She was serious about not being seen. No local would ever set foot in that overpriced, mediocre tourist trap of a restaurant. “When?”
“Around ten-thirty?” she suggested.
“Sure,” he said, thinking even as he said it that she wouldn’t show. She’d chicken out. And that was fine. Because she couldn’t take away the sight of her cute green skirt swinging around her ass as she walked away.
A little librarian to take his mind off his family and their bullshit. Sometimes life was damn surprising.
SHE COULDN’T MEET him. She’d made a terrible mistake agreeing to do it. Her dark, reckless side had pushed her into a stupid impulse. It wanted a ride on that bike, but he was one guy she could never play with, even for a night.
Sophie told herself this even as she smoothed up a nude stocking and clipped it to her garter belt. She’d showered and shaved her legs and picked out a sleeveless black dress with an A-line skirt, all the while assuring herself she wouldn’t see him after dinner. She couldn’t. Alex Bishop obviously didn’t know who she was. If he knew she was Dorothy Heyer’s daughter, he’d never have asked her out.
Then again... He had a glint in his eyes that Sophie recognized. It was familiar because she saw it in the mirror every day. It was a glint that said she wanted to do things. Things she knew she shouldn’t.
She smoothed up the other stocking and clipped it in place before letting the skirt fall.
The black dress was modest. The neckline didn’t show even a hint of cleavage. Everything about her was modest. Everything except the truth.
She brushed her hair out until it shone, then twisted it back into her favorite chignon. She would’ve left it down, but if she went for a ride on his bike, it would stay neat under her helmet this way.
Not that she was going for a ride. She wasn’t even going to see him.
But she kept getting ready, her heart beating hard. This was the real her. The woman who wanted things she shouldn’t have. Things like a big stranger with a shaved head and tattoos she wanted to uncover. A man whose smile was almost as hard as those thighs encased by well-worn denim. Exactly the man she could not be seen with.
“No,” Sophie told herself as her heart beat even harder. No. She couldn’t do it. Yes, he was a virtual stranger. Yes, he was only in town for a few days. Yes, he looked dark and dangerous and he’d seen right away that she wasn’t exactly what she appeared to be.
But no. His identity overruled all of her usual guidelines. There would be nothing logical about a fling with Alex.
She slipped on her black heels with the little bows on the back, then slid bright red lipstick over her lips, loving the way the color bloomed and transformed her average mouth into something wicked and wanton. She pressed her lips together and marveled at the bright shock of color that reappeared when she pouted.
She slipped on her black glasses.
God. It had been so long since she’d been bad. Months since she’d even tried, and that last guy had been so boring once she’d finally gotten him alone.
Alex wouldn’t be boring.
But she couldn’t go.
Then again... She didn’t have his number. It would be rude to simply not show up. She should at least go to the bar after dinner to