Enchanting the Beast

by Maggie Dallen

She didn’t know what that meant for them. Did he expect her to kiss him? Did he expect more than that? Her eyes wandered over his wheelchair. Could he even do more than that? She had no idea.

  But more than anything, she had no idea what she would do. Because she’d promised herself that she would not stoop to sexual advances to get close to this guy. Right off the bat she’d told Jack and herself that she would not do it. No kisses, no touches, and certainly no sex.

  But that was before she’d met him. Before she discovered that she desperately wanted to kiss him. And she didn’t want it for the wrong reasons. Or maybe she wanted it for all the wrong reasons.

  She was so confused.

  “You were saying?” he said gently.

  She blinked at him. She’d been saying…what? She absolutely needed more to go on than that subtle hint.

  “Numbers,” he said, his lips twitched in a way she was starting to recognize. She was amusing him. How lovely.

  Numbers, right. She took a deep breath and tried to remember what she’d been about to say before. “Oh yeah. I was just saying that I love working with numbers because not only do they not lie, but they’re black and white.” She looked at their entwined hands again but couldn’t bring herself to pull away. “There’s no gray area, you know?” She didn’t bother to wait for his answer, the question was rhetorical. “Life should be like that. No moral or ethical ambiguity. Things should be right or wrong. People should be good or bad….” She trailed off, not even remotely sure why she’d brought that up or why it had seemed so relevant.

  How much wine had she consumed?

  Too much. She should get out of there before this grew more complicated. She should leave and not come back until she’d gotten her head on straight.

  Spencer’s phone buzzed and he held up a finger in a “hold on one sec” move as he answered it. He spoke in monosyllables. “Yeah…uh huh…what do you got?”

  She didn’t pay attention, she was far too busy trying to make sense of the internal battle going on between her brain and her heart. Why, oh why, did this have to be so complicated? She’d met a guy she liked. Genuinely honestly liked. Someone who made her feel comfortable, the way she felt around her family. Someone who found her amusing and who made her laugh.

  Those were two traits that she’d found incredibly hard to find. But now she’d found them in one smart, interesting, sexy man.

  The one man she had to con.

  What the heck, universe? Not fair.

  While she was busy cursing out the powers that be, something had happened. She didn’t know what but after Spencer hung up with whoever he was talking to, something had shifted.

  He’d changed.

  The change wasn’t overt and there was every possibility she was being paranoid. Maybe paranoia was contagious.

  But no, there was something different about his overall vibe. Where he’d been laconic and mellow before, now he was shifty and on edge. There was a hardness about him that she hadn’t seen since that first, ill-fated meeting on his doorstep.

  “I-is everything all right?”

  He stared at her in silence for a moment. Just a heartbeat too long. Long enough for her pulse to pick up its pace as fear set in.

  Something had changed.

  But then he moved his chair closer to the sofa so he was right beside her and gave her a smile that was so devastatingly charming she caught her breath.

  “Where were we?” he murmured.

  She swallowed. Oh dear. She was out of her league. He’d turned on the sexytime charm and she was suddenly transported back to high school again. She was all things awkward and uncool. Whatever the opposite of sexy was, that was her. “Um, numbers?” she squeaked. Oh no, she’d reverted back to the high-pitched dog calls.

  His lips twitched up just a bit but that familiar show of amusement helped to calm her. This was Spencer. Just Spencer. Well, not just. But Spencer. He knew her. He liked her.

  He was holding her hand again.

  She swallowed convulsively.

  “Do you know what else I like?” His lip curled up in a lopsided grin that made her muscles melt.

  Clearing her throat, she managed to get out, “About numbers?”

  He shook his head. “I’m moving on from numbers.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  In one move he tugged her off the couch and onto his lap. He acted so quickly she forgot to breathe. “I like your eyes.” His voice was deep and rumbly and she lost the ability to breathe.

  Focus. What was he talking about? It was hard to remember when his hands were on her hips and his breath was warm and tingly on her neck. Her eyes. He liked her eyes. That had her looking up at him as if to show him the eyes in question. These old things?

  He smiled and for a second she caught a glimpse of that coldness again. That edge that she’d thought had been lost for good after that first meeting. What had happened to bring on this change?

  But then he reached up and brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “Your eyes are astonishing.”

  She blinked up at him. No one had ever complimented her eyes before. She said the first thing that came to mind. “They’re brown.”

  There was a flicker of amusement but it was tempered with that steely edge. She knew she wasn’t imagining things but she couldn’t figure it out. Maybe it was the sexual attraction. Maybe that was what she was picking up on.

  As if on cue, his hands moved. One reached around and gripped her waist while the other cupped her cheek, tilting her face up to his so he could better see her “astonishing” eyes. “They’re so expressive,” he said softly. “Possibly more than you know.”

  She had no idea how she was supposed to respond. She had no doubt that her eyes were just as bad at lying as the rest of her. But she wasn’t lying right now. Nothing about this situation felt unreal. Nothing about it felt fake.

  This…this intimacy, it was the most real emotion she’d experienced in her whole life. For the first time in a long time she felt alive.

  This was living.

  What was it Eve was always saying? That she loved her job because it made her feel alive. Extreme emotions did that for her. Not so much for Holly. It wasn’t extreme emotions that made her feel like the world came into sharp focus—like the world had gone from black and white to color. It was this connection. It was any connection, but particularly this one. One in which she saw and was seen.

  Maybe some people were lucky enough to connect with other people on a regular basis, but for Holly it was akin to a miracle. Aside from her family and a few close friends, she always felt apart. Separate. Different.

  She rarely felt like she belonged. But here, now, that was exactly how she felt. Like she was where she needed to be. Where she should be.

  The silence between them grew long but not awkward. It was heavy, filled with unspoken words and a sort of tension. Like he was waiting for her. He was letting her make the next move. The ball was in her court.

  A sense of power surged through her but it had nothing to do with the games she was playing and everything to do with the honesty and preciousness of this moment. He wanted her. She could feel the evidence of that and it made her want to do something naughty, like wiggle her hips and tease them both with what was to come.

  But she wasn’t ready to go there yet. Not yet. Not until this ridiculous job was over.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a moment. Just one. She needed to make this connection feel real, solid.

  Plus, she just really wanted to kiss him. She wanted to feel his lips against hers more than she could remember ever wanting anything.

  Slowly, tentatively she placed her hands on his shoulders. They were strong and warm beneath his buttoned-down shirt. Her gaze was fixed on his lips. He had a manly mouth, if there was such a thing. She just knew this lips would be firm. Strong.

  She leaned in closer and he remained still, waiting. He was letting her move at her own pace.

  When her lips met his, it was
better than she could have ever expected. Heat surged through her and her body melted against his chest, instant languid heat moving through her muscles and making her feel delicious. Sexy.

  His lips moved against hers and he took control of the kiss like she’d known he would. She groaned as he slipped a hand into her hair at the nape of her neck, holding her steady as his lips molded hers, urging them apart for access.

  His tongue slipped between her lips as soon as she gave him the chance and she moaned into his mouth at the sweet contact. His tongue teased her lips, lazily exploring as the effects of the kiss spread throughout her body.

  She’d always thought kisses were just lips and tongues. Messy, wet affairs that were a means to an end. A prelude to the main act. But this... This was an act in and of itself. This was everything. It wasn’t just her mouth that was involved, it was all of her. Her entire body was lit up from the inside as her body came to life on his lap.

  Her hands started to roam, over his shoulders and down his arms. She ached to touch and be touched. She waited to feel his arms come around her. A whimpering sound escaped her as she struggled to get closer and willed him to hold her.

  Then his hands were on her. Finally. They gripped her waist. Yes, she wanted to be held.

  But he didn’t pull her closer. He shoved her away.

  What the…?

  She sat there blinking stupidly as though someone had just turned on some very bright lights. But it wasn’t just her eyes that needed to adjust, it was her entire body that was loudly complaining about being torn away from the warm, lovely comfort of his arms.

  His expression was impossible to read. His eyes were still closed and his brow was furrowed in concentration. His hands still gripped her waist tightly. So tightly it almost hurt. She got the feeling that this was just as hard for him as it was for her, but when she started to lean in, hoping to snuggle up against him, he held her still.

  Finally he cleared his throat and opened his eyes. “I think it’s best if you leave now.”

  Her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. His tone wasn’t cruel and there was no coldness or anger in his eyes. He was just…gone. No, that wasn’t right. He was sitting right there.

  Physically he was there, but that connection was gone. The warmth and friendship she’d thought they’d had vanished. He seemed like a stranger.

  She was left feeling alone and cold and utterly ridiculous because she was perched on a pseudo-stranger’s lap. She tried to wiggle off gracefully and failed.

  Life lesson of the day: there was no elegant way to remove oneself from a man’s lap.

  “Um, thank you for dinner,” she said as she struggled to stand.

  He helped her the rest of the way up, setting her on her feet. “You paid,” he said, “I should be thanking you.” His voice was emotionless. None of the typical amusement warmed his tone, though there was nothing impolite about it either.

  Her gaze was already on the door, eyeing her exit with a rising sense of panic. What had happened? One minute she’d been so happy and felt so close to him—physically and in every other way. And then…and then the rug had been pulled out from underneath her. Or rather, the wheelchair had been tugged out from under her.

  Either way she was off balance and confused in a way that had nothing to do with wine.

  “Okay, well, thank you,” she said again, not sure what she was thanking him for. It didn’t matter. Get out, get out. Just get out the door before you humiliate yourself any further.

  She turned back for a quick wave goodbye but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Then she was out the door and standing in front of her temporary apartment wondering what had gone wrong.

  Chapter Four

  The minute the door closed, Spencer dropped his head back and let out a string of curses. What had he been thinking?

  He should know better than to play games. Unless it was video games, he lost. He always lost in real life. This time was no different.

  Running his hands over his face, he let out one last curse before wheeling himself back to the kitchen, taking the wine along with him.

  Idiot. He’d been so stupid. He’d known from the start that she was up to something. It had been so obvious. He should have steered clear. But nooo. He’d had to go and get close to her. Oh, how clever. He was a regular Hardy Boy getting to the bottom of this mystery woman.

  He set the glasses down on the counter with a loud clink and poured himself a hefty glass, staring broodily at the glass she’d left behind when she’d run away.

  After he’d driven her away.

  He’d been cold. Callous even, particularly in light of that heated kiss.

  Oh man, that kiss. He would have loved to be able to chalk his reaction up to the fact that it had been a while since he’d been with a woman, but he couldn’t fool himself. It wasn’t that. He’d had more than his fair share of kisses and nothing had compared to that.

  He threw back a gulp of wine to wipe away the memory. It didn’t work. His body remembered the kiss and it wouldn’t forget anytime soon. Probably not in this lifetime.

  Which was a bummer because he’d just figured out what Holly wanted with him and it was worse than he’d feared. He groaned before taking another sip of the useless wine. Why didn’t he have bourbon on hand for times like this?

  The answer was simple. He didn’t keep whiskey around because he rarely experienced times like this. And there was a very good reason for that. An excellent reason. It was impossible to be betrayed by people if one avoided them altogether.

  Not that she’d betrayed him, necessarily. His ever-logical brain played devil’s advocate to the emotions that insisted he’d been wronged. He couldn’t have been betrayed when he’d known from the start that she had a hidden agenda.

  But much as he tried to tell himself that, it didn’t ease the stinging pain in his chest. He tried to separate out the pain and examine it. This hadn’t come as a surprise. Figuring out what she wanted from him had been the whole reason he’d set out to befriend her. Apparently some part of him had forgotten that fact.

  Such an idiot.

  He’d found himself enjoying her company and let himself wallow in willful ignorance like a chump. Well, now he was paying for it.

  Hunter had called shortly after they’d returned. He’d talked to his former partner, Eddie, the one who was hung up on Eve Hallister. Apparently Eve wasn’t an alias, after all, she was currently in a coma in a nearby hospital. Eddie and Hunter seemed to think Eve and Holly were connected. But none of that mattered. The real reason Hunter had called was because he’d discovered one very pertinent fact.

  His father was out of prison.

  If Spencer had been keeping track he would have realized that his parole would be coming up soon and, knowing his dad, he’d be out on good behavior. His father wasn’t a cruel man, just a criminal. And an incompetent one at that, considering the number of times he’d been caught. His crimes ranged from the petty to the absurd. He’d become something of a local legend in their old neighborhood. Not because of his brilliance, by any means, but because he was the first and only thug in the neighborhood to get caught red-handed on three separate occasions. The story people loved to tell was from when Spencer was a toddler and his father had tried to steal him a pony from the circus.

  Needless to say, it was fairly easy for the cops to find the crook on horseback on the streets of Brooklyn.

  Also needless to say, his father had been highly inebriated at the time. His love of the drink, and a wide variety of narcotics, played a big part in his ineffectiveness as a criminal mastermind.

  Still, he was his father, so Spencer had loved him when he was a kid. He assumed his father probably loved him too, in his way. No completely apathetic father thought to steal his kid a pony, after all. But pony or no pony, his father was hardly a doting parental figure.

  He’d been an inconsistent presence in Spencer’s life from as early as he could remember. He and his mom lived their liv
es as though he was the fun uncle. When he dropped by, great. Good to see you. Sure, take the kid out for an ice cream. Have him home in time for dinner. When he left, whether to pursue his next crime or to go to jail, it didn’t really matter. He’d come back like a stray cat who’s been fed the good stuff.

  He always came back.

  Their convenient little arrangement fell apart when he was ten and his mom died in the car accident that left Spencer a partially paralyzed paraplegic. As far as spinal injuries went, he supposed he was lucky. If the spinal injury had been worse or higher up he wouldn’t be sitting there battling a hard on.

  He could see that he was lucky now, but back then the transition to a wheelchair had been tough, made all the tougher by his grief for his mother. The fact that his dad had suddenly become his sole guardian definitely didn’t help matters.

  The new full-time parental relationship wasn’t a good fit for father or son.

  Jack hadn’t wanted the responsibility and Spencer was a disappointment as a son. He brought nothing but misery. Jack called him his bad luck charm and sometimes it felt like there was some truth to it.

  That was likely why his father hadn’t protested when social services put him in foster care after his dad left him on his own to pursue a lead on the West Coast. After that Spencer had gone in and out of foster care for the remainder of his childhood, for which he was grateful. That was how he’d met Andie, his only real family, as far as he was concerned.

  He’d also gotten into computers thanks to a nice foster family who’d seen his passion for them and indulged him by buying him a cheap old laptop. It had been a clunker but he’d fixed it up and used it to learn all there was to know.

  Truth be told, he’d been glad the last time his father was hauled off to prison. He’d gotten out for a little while when Spencer had turned nineteen but then, before he could say “Jack’s back,” he broke parole and was sent back for another stretch.

  But now tonight Hunter told him that Jack was back. Again. Not only that but it seemed Jack was an associate of some sleazy guy named Charlie, who was somehow connected to this Eve chick who Eddie was so hung up on.