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SEX APPEAL

Page 8

by Lori Foster


  Brent pretended to give the matter serious thought, then said, "Wear something black. That should cover it and satisfy my mother."

  "I'm not particularly concerned with satisfying your mother." She touched his bottom lip. "Will it satisfy you?"

  He gave her a sinner's wicked smile. "I have no doubt you'll satisfy me, honey. That's why I've been going crazy."

  Feeling her stomach tumble with the meaning of his words, Shadow decided she'd better behave—for her own salvation. Otherwise, she just might drag him to the bedroom and take him forcibly, her work and his parents be damned. Since she couldn't be positive he would appreciate her effort, she bent to right the telephone table that had overturned.

  Brent was at her side, helping. "I hope nothing broke."

  "Just scattered a few things. Don't worry about it. It was worth any mess to see your fit of temper."

  "I don't indulge in fits of temper. What you saw was my remarkable restraint in keeping my hands off you."

  Shadow laughed, but the humor instantly died when Brent picked up the note. He glanced at her still face, then read.

  His expression hardened with annoyance. "You weren't going to tell me about this?"

  "Actually … no. I was planning on throwing it away."

  "Throw it away? Some maniac writes you a threatening note and you don't intend to tell me?"

  Shadow frowned. "It wasn't exactly threatening."

  "I beg your pardon. The exact wording is, 'I see you all the time. Soon you'll see me, too.'"

  Shadow blinked, then frowned. "Let me see that." After Brent handed her the note, she quickly skimmed it, then raised worried eyes to his face. "It's another one. He must have dropped it though the mail slot last night, after I'd gone to bed."

  "You mean this is the second note?"

  Nodding, Shadow said, "I already spoke to the police, so you can quit frowning at me."

  That didn't appease him. "What exactly did the first note say?"

  Shadow recited it as best she could remember. "He evidently slipped both notes through my mail slot. The other one was here when I got in yesterday."

  "Then this one," he said, "was delivered during the night while you were asleep."

  Shadow couldn't help it. She paled at the thought of a man creeping around her house during the night. Brent took her arm and started out the front door, making certain it was locked behind them. He hustled her along to her car, barely letting her feet touch the ground. She could feel the tension in him, his annoyance. "I've had enough, Shadow. I'm going to have an alarm system installed today. No! Not a word out of you."

  She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "You'll get more than a word from me if you don't stop being such a jerk."

  "I'm a worried jerk, all right?" She didn't answer and he sighed. He reached out, caught her hand and pulled her alongside him. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to worrying."

  "Then stop doing it."

  "I also don't want you at the shop alone, or anywhere else alone, for that matter."

  Shadow could only shake her head. "I'm a single woman, Brent. I live alone. Or are you planning to move in?" She could tell by the look on his face that he wasn't, that she had presented him with something of a quandary.

  Collecting himself, Brent said easily, "Once the alarm is installed, you should be safe enough." He stopped beside her car and looked at her with a frown. "That is, if you're not afraid?"

  Shadow withered him with a look of disdain. "I'm not afraid of the dark or bogeymen or rainstorms." Her lie sounded credible even to her own ears. She was afraid, but he didn't need to know it. "I think you're right about an alarm system, though."

  "Of course I am." He looked relieved at her concurrence.

  "However," she added sternly. "I'll be the one to have the alarm installed. I'm not penniless. And it is my house and my hide that'll be protected. So it's my responsibility."

  Brent said only. "At least let me put in the order. I want to make certain you get an infallible system." When she started to object, he added, "You can't cut corners on this sort of thing. It should cover the perimeter of the house, and most especially the doors and all the windows…"

  "I agree."

  He smiled, satisfied. "I'll talk to the security people today." He gave her a brief, hard kiss, then took her keys to unlock her car, seeing her safely deposited inside. "I have an early meeting to get out of the way so I can spend the rest of the afternoon with my parents. I'll follow you to work, then come by later for you tonight. We'll go to dinner just as soon as you've had time to change. All right?"

  "If I say yes, do I get another kiss?" His eyes darkened further and it fascinated Shadow. Seeing his gaze settle on her mouth, she tipped her face up to him, her lips slightly pursed. Brent swore softly, then cupped her cheeks, now cold from the frigid winter air, and took her mouth.

  She wouldn't need her heater if he kept that up. She slumped in the seat when he drew away, patted her cheek, then locked her door and closed it. "Drive carefully," he called from the window, and left for his own car.

  Shadow stared after him. She wasn't at all certain she approved of his bossiness, but she more than approved of his kisses. Maybe she could get him to compromise on the rest. And as for her not staying alone at the shop, she hadn't really agreed to that, but she also hadn't wanted to argue with him about it.

  But then, on second thought, arguing with Brent was probably the second most exciting thing she'd ever done with him. All in all, he kept her senses stimulated. She couldn't wait to see him that night.

  * * *

  They had their first huge argument the minute they got back to her house. Shadow started down her front walk, and Brent knew he couldn't hesitate any longer. "Just a minute, Shadow."

  She glanced at him with a smile. Well, her smile wouldn't last much longer, but hopefully she'd understand. He didn't, but then, around Shadow, he never seemed to understand himself. He crossed his arms over his chest, ignored the howling wind and said, "I have to tell you the code for the alarm system."

  Her smile never slipped. "Alarm system?"

  "The one I had installed today."

  She caught her hair back from her face, gave him a quizzical look and said, as if speaking to a simpleton, "I haven't chosen an alarm system yet, therefore it's impossible that one has been installed."

  He'd done what was right, damn it, and he'd just keep telling himself that. "I had it installed. All the downstairs doors and windows are covered. Security lights will be taken care of tomorrow morning." He drew a breath, eyed her still features and continued. "If anyone tries to break in, the lights will come on and the police will automatically be called."

  She glanced over her shoulder at the house. "You did this?"

  "I want you safe," he said reasonably.

  When she faced him again, her expression was no longer still. "No, you want to take charge of my life," she accused, and he couldn't very well deny it. When he remained quiet, she threw up her arms and shouted, "Good grief, one stalker is enough."

  She turned to stomp away, slipped on the ice and started to fall. Brent had already been reaching for her, and he grabbed for her waist, but wasn't quick enough. They both went down, him flat on his back, Shadow draped across him.

  Her knee damn near got him in the groin when she immediately struggled to sit up. He held her tightly. "Why is it," he asked, leashing his temper with care, "that every damn time I'm near you, you bring me low."

  She whipped around, fully atop him, and said not two inches away from his face, "You keep overstepping yourself, that's why! I won't have it, Brent."

  Thinking quickly, he suggested, "You can pay me back. It's an excellent system and now it's done and you know it was necessary."

  "It was my decision to make!"

  He'd never known a woman like her. Every other woman of his acquaintance wanted to be taken care of, wanted him to spend his money—the more the better. They'd have been flattered with his concern, complimented by his tho
ughtfulness, but not Shadow. No, she looked ready to bang his head into the icy sidewalk.

  Being a perverse bastard, he smiled. "I'm sorry."

  Shadow drew back, watching him warily. "You don't look sorry. You're grinning like a sinner."

  "That's because you're so cute. No," he said, catching her when she would have flung away from him again, "I'm not patronizing you. You are cute and I like you and I worry about you, whether you want me to—hell, whether I want me to—and so I did it and I'm sorry it upset you, but I'd do it again in order to keep you safe."

  She stared at him a moment longer, then grumbled, "You're impossible. Let me up. I hurt my hip when I fell."

  He was immediately concerned. His own posterior felt bruised, as well as frozen. Three times. Three times now he'd ended up on his back in front of her. He caught her beneath the arms and lifted them both together. Dusting snowflakes and ice crystals from her coat, he asked, "Do you need me to carry you?"

  Her look nearly fried him, despite the temperature. "How do I get in?"

  Brent chose to take her question as a good sign. As if she hadn't just been glaring at him, he put his arm around her shoulders and started her forward. "I'll show you."

  He produced a new key for her—to go with the new lock—and then punched in the code on the keypad. "Always do it right away or the police will come knocking to see what's wrong."

  Looking around her house as if it wasn't her own anymore, she asked, "How much do I owe you?"

  Brent winced, divided the actual price in half and watched her face for signs of distress. He really had no idea of her finances, though she claimed to be comfortable enough.

  She never blinked. She just went to her checkbook and made out a check. As she handed it to him, she said, "I'll forgive you this once. Just this once. On the condition you promise to never ever again—"

  "I promise," he said, not even wanting her to finish that statement. He had no idea what he might do in the future, so it was best to keep his promise vague.

  She didn't look at all convinced, but said only, "I have to go shower. I'll be back down in fifteen minutes."

  "We have time," he told her, hoping the shower would restore her good mood. He loved her smiles, her quick laughter, the way she found humor in everything.

  When she emerged twenty minutes later, already wearing a black cloak, her dark curls decorated with a silk ribbon, Brent was relieved to see her smiling.

  She flitted around her house, talking nonstop, apparently excited about the evening. As she pulled on a pair of black leather gloves, Brent gave a brief thought to his parents. His father was amiable enough, but his mother could be extremely rigid to the women Brent chose to date. Of course, Shadow was different, and since his mother wasn't stupid, he imagined she'd quickly realize that Shadow was open and honest. He only hoped she didn't hurt Shadow's feelings or in some way insult her.

  Brent held her hand on the drive, listening to her light conversation on everything from the sales at the shop to how her backside was still slightly numb from her fall. He couldn't recall this much enjoyment from chitchatting with any other woman. But Shadow was so lively, always smiling, quick to forgive—thankfully—and just as quick to laugh. She enjoyed life, even the mundane ventures, and that made him enjoy them, too.

  "You didn't bruise yourself, did you?"

  Her eyes twinkled at him in the dim interior of his car. "I didn't look, actually, so I don't know." She added, peering at him through her lashes, "But I wouldn't be a bit surprised."

  "Should I kiss it for you to make it all better?"

  "That could work," she murmured with false sincerity, only to say, "but a massage would probably be more effective. If you really want to help, that is."

  The thought of getting his hands on her soft, rounded bottom again played havoc with his libido. It had been too long since he'd really touched her and it seemed he'd been wanting her forever.

  His eyes shone at her, intent and filled with subtle meaning. "Depend on it."

  A valet parked the car, and after Shadow had taken Brent's arm, they started inside.

  He watched her expression, curious as to how she would react to the grand and elegant establishment. It was new, and Brent thought it particularly ostentatious, but his father had chosen it. Usually his parents' company could be excessively boring, especially in "polite" society. They were nearly regimented in their manners and social behavior. He had looked upon Shadow's company as a salvation to the evening. But now he began to worry.

  He didn't know if Shadow would be comfortable in the outlandishly expensive surroundings. Not for the world would Brent want to make her ill at ease. He adored her forthright and outspoken manner, and wanted to encourage it. He wanted Shadow to be herself, always, despite his parents' opinions or the quiet elegance of the dining room. He totally disregarded the fact that up until meeting Shadow, he himself had been very remote and reserved.

  She didn't gaze around in wonder at the glittering chandeliers hanging overhead, and the uniformed checker who asked for her cloak only received a dimpled smile and a simple thank-you. All would be fine, Brent decided; he'd worried for nothing. Shadow could definitely take care of herself.

  She took off her cloak—and he got his first good look at what she wore.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  « ^ »

  The loud burst of laughter was startling. Peering over her shoulder, her expression deliberately demure, Shadow asked, "Is something wrong?"

  Brent grinned at her, then kissed her fingers. "You never disappoint me, sweetheart, do you know that?"

  She bestowed a very pleased smile on him. "I do try to be accommodating."

  Dismissing the curious and disapproving stares, Brent took Shadow's arm as they made their way to the table. She looked delectable. And she had followed his suggestion—at least as far as the black was concerned. "The suspenders add a certain sensuality to the outfit."

  She didn't slow her pace. "Do you think so?"

  "Umm. You look like a very sexy schoolgirl."

  She slanted him a provocative look. "I keep telling you—sexy comes in many different forms."

  "I think I like your form just fine." And her "form" was clearly defined in the narrow velvet slacks. They were high waisted, cinching tight just below her breasts, lying smooth over her belly. Wide suspenders went over her shoulders and then crisscrossed in the back. Her white silk blouse buttoned with pearls and her pointed collar closed about her throat with a thin, black silk tie, as expertly knotted as Brent's own.

  The outfit emphasized the lush fullness of her breasts. The material of the blouse was so soft and clinging Brent could detect each swell and curve. He wondered if she could possibly be wearing a bra. He couldn't see the outlines of it, but neither could he see even a hint of her nipples, and God knows he looked.

  He felt his body reacting to his thoughts, and brought his attention back to his waiting parents. They were wide-eyed as Brent and Shadow approached. Slowly, his father stood, while his mother only laid a hand to her throat, clearly shocked. Brent made the introductions, doing his best to hold in his laughter.

  "How do you do, Mr. Bramwell?"

  Brent watched, smiling, as Shadow thrust her hand out to his father, taking him off guard.

  With only a moment's hesitation, his father took her proffered hand. "Martin, please. It's nice to meet you, er, Shadow, was it?"

  "Yes, sir. Shadow Callahan." At his curious look, she expounded, "My parents had a whimsical way about them. I have two younger sisters, Storm and Windy, and a baby brother, Sunny—with a u."

  Brent was amazed he'd never heard this story. "Did she name each of you according to the weather when you were born?"

  Shadow sent him a crooked smile. "No. Actually, it was the weather when we were conceived, or so I'm told."

  Shadow was seated across from Brent's mother, and when she gasped, Shadow looked up in concern. "Are you all right? Did you choke on your drink?"

/>   Brent reached over to pat his mother's back, handing her the water goblet. "Here, Mother. Sip this." Then he dismissed her, smiling gently at Shadow.

  The waiter appeared, taking orders for their drinks. Martin said, "I'll have another Scotch. And a white wine for Debra." He turned to Brent. "Scotch?"

  Nodding, Brent said, "That'll be fine." All eyes turned to Shadow.

  "No alcohol for me, please. How about a soda?"

  The waiter, without flicking an eyelash, walked away. But Debra frowned at her. "That was rather crudely put, young lady. Do you have difficulty maintaining a discreet consumption?"

  Shadow smiled with tender remembrance, forewarning Brent of disaster. "Not at all. At least, I don't think so." Then she dropped her bomb. "But Brent got me a little drunk the other day, and took complete advantage of the situation. I don't intend to give him such an opportunity again."

  This time it was Brent who choked, while his parents stared. Damn the little witch, she was probably getting even over the alarm system.

  In a performance worthy of the stage, Shadow seemed to rethink her words. "Oh, I don't mean … that is, he was a complete gentleman. Too much so, in fact, which was actually the problem."

  "Shadow…" he said in warning.

  Of course she ignored him.

  Patting his hand as if to placate him, she said, "You know, Brent has a terrible time controlling his temper. He's just too intense for things to ever go smoothly around him." She leaned forward slightly to confide, "It's one of the things I like most about him."

  Martin blinked at her, then slowly grinned. "Is that so? I've always found my son to be in perfect control of every situation. He must always be the employer, not the employee."

  "I know just what you mean. He tries to bulldoze me, too. The stories I could tell…" Brent turned his hand over and squeezed her fingers. "Well," she said, giving him a look, "maybe that's for another time. But I can hold my own. Not even Brent, gorgeous and appealing as he is, can run my life for me."

  This time she looked directly at him, ignoring his parents. "I have things well in hand."

  The drinks came, keeping Brent from saying anything in return. No sooner had the waiter taken the order for their meals and departed than Debra again tried to grab her own measure of control over the dinner conversation.

 

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