by Lori Foster
“We won’t go at all!” Her heart thumped so hard it hurt and her stomach felt queasy. She pressed a fist to her belly and sought lost composure. “I’m not in the least interested, Josh… Lieutenant Marshall.”
He smiled. “Oh, you’re interested. I wager you’ve even considered things between us a time or two. Maybe a hot fantasy late at night?”
“You’d be pathetically wrong.” The bite in her words was unavoidable; she did not, ever, delude herself with fantasies.
Taken aback by her vehemence, Josh whistled low. “An abusive ex? Poor home life?”
“No and no.”
Rubbing his chin, he said, “You might as well tell me. I’ll get it out of you sooner or later.”
The man was impossible! “Why do you even want to?”
He shrugged. “It’s obvious there’s a problem, and we can’t get on to the lovemaking until it’s solved.”
Her mouth fell open again. “My God, your conceit is incredible.”
“Confidence, not conceit.” He lifted one massive shoulder. “I know women, inside and out. You’re hiding something, something that scares the hell out of you, and now I’m doubly intrigued. All in all, I’m beginning to think this is going to be fun. Not at all the chore I’d first envisioned.”
His every word, every action, threw her. She caught herself barking a very unladylike laugh. “A chore? A chore. You expect to ingratiate yourself with me using comments like that?”
He winked as he pulled on his jeans and sat on the bench again to don socks and lace up black boots. “I don’t want to win you over, sweetheart. I just want you in my bed.”
Tension prickled her nerve endings, started the low thrum of a headache. Amanda rubbed her temples, trying to think. “We’ve gotten off course here somehow.” She drew a steadying breath and dredged up a vague smile. “All I want is for you to agree to have your picture taken. An hour of your time…”
Josh stood and began threading a thick black leather belt through his belt loops. “Have dinner with me.”
An audible click sounded when her teeth snapped together. “No. Thank you.”
He buckled the belt and pulled out a black leather jacket, slinging it over his shoulder and hooking it with his thumb. He looked her over, the epitome of male arrogance and savage resolve. “I thought we’d discuss the calendar.”
Indecision warred with hope. Would he relent and allow her to get the photographs she needed? Was he just leading her on to get his way?
The biggest question was whether or not she could handle him—and she had serious doubts on that issue. In a thousand different ways, she knew Josh Marshall was unlike any other man she’d encountered. He was persuasive, a lady’s man in every sense of the word, walking testosterone with an abundance of charm. To top it off, he had a killer body that got double takes from females of all ages.
They wouldn’t end up in bed, of course, so that wasn’t a real worry for Amanda. His confidence and past successes were irrelevant. The worry was how much hell he’d put her through before he accepted defeat. Somehow, she didn’t think he took defeat very well.
In her case, he’d have to learn.
But if he would agree to the calendar, did it really matter if she had to put up with his seduction tactics first? She would resist because she had to, and in the end, she’d get what she wanted.
With a sense of dread, in spite of the pep talk that she’d just given herself, Amanda nodded. “All right.”
Josh’s expression softened. “I promise it won’t be near the degradation you’re imagining.”
“Not at all.” She needed his agreement, and antagonizing him would gain her nothing but his continued refusal. “The dinner will be fine, I’m sure.”
Without her permission, he walked up to her and put his large muscled arm around her back. She felt the heat of his hand as it opened on her waist. Before she could react, he urged her forward.
“I have a few rules we can discuss on the way out.”
“Rules?” She felt vague and uncertain with him touching her so much.
“That’s right. And rule number one is that you have to call me Josh. No more ‘Lieutenant’ formality.”
She could live with that. “If you insist.”
“Rule two—no discussions of any actual fires. I like to leave my job behind when I’m off duty.”
“Agreed.” Amanda realized she’d answered a tad too quickly when Josh stopped and looked down at her. The last thing she wanted to discuss, now or ever, was a real fire. “I…I understand,” she stammered, trying to keep him from looking inside her again.
For a long moment, he just stood there, considering her, and then he nodded. “Let’s go.”
As they walked through the station, firemen looked up. A few laughed, a few called out suggestions and Josh, without slowing, made a crude gesture in their general direction and kept going. But when Amanda peeked up at his face, she saw his satisfied…maybe smug, smile.
Ha! Let him be smug, she didn’t care. All she cared about was her project.
And that meant she had to care about him. But just for a little while.
JOSH WATCHED Amanda as they stepped outside into the cool October night. He was just coming off a twelve-hour shift, and after two emergency calls that day, he should have been tired. He had been tired, clear down to the bone. He’d thought only of getting home and falling into bed. But now he was…expectant. And a little horny.
For Amanda Barker. He grinned.
There’d been a recent drizzle and the station’s lights, as well as a bright moon, glistened across the wet pavement. The cool air was brisk, stirred by an uneasy breeze.
It matched his mood.
With his hand on Amanda’s back, he could feel the nervousness she tried so hard to hide. It wasn’t a reaction he was used to from women. But then Amanda wasn’t what he was used to.
She also wasn’t what he wanted, not even close.
Not that it seemed to matter tonight.
Once he’d made up his mind to turn the tables on her, he’d found himself thinking about her a lot. About getting her out of her perfect little feminine suits and letting down her perfectly coiffed hair.
He wanted to see if Amanda Barker could stop being so sweet and refined and classy. He wanted to see her wild, unreserved.
He wanted to hear her screaming out a climax, to feel her perfectly painted pink nails digging into his back as she bucked beneath him.
Josh stopped and drew a deep breath. He put his hands on his hips and dropped his head forward with a laugh. Damn, he’d let his lust get out of hand.
He hadn’t expected her here tonight, had in fact been too wiped out from the emergency calls to do much thinking at all. Yet, she’d surprised him by hanging out in the locker room, waiting for him.
A pleasant surprise and a very nice distraction.
He’d made his decision a week ago and had been thinking about it ever since. At least a dozen different ways, he’d imagined their encounter, how he’d approach her and what he’d say, how she’d react to his come-on.
Not once had he imagined seeing fear on her face.
“Lieutenant Marshall?”
He whipped his head up and snared her gaze, making her brown eyes widen in startled reaction. “Josh, remember?”
“Sorry.” She licked her bottom lip, apparently undecided, then that iron determination of hers came to the fore and she stiffened like a sail caught in the wind. “Josh, is something wrong? Because I want you to know if you’ve changed your mind—about dinner I mean—that’s fine with me. We can just set up a time for the shoot and part ways here.”
She really, truly, wanted nothing to do with him.
Josh hated being forced to face his own ego, but…he was stunned. Oh, he’d known women who hadn’t wanted to be involved with him. He was twenty-seven years old and he’d had his fair share of rejections. Women who were already involved or those who didn’t like the risks associated with his work. Women w
ho’d been looking for marriage and those who’d just gotten divorced and needed time to regroup.
Most recently, he’d been rebuffed by two incredible women who’d chosen his best friends instead. He smiled at that, thinking how happy Mick and Zack were.
Oh, Wynn and Delilah liked him, they even doted on him occasionally, but only as a friend.
Other than Amanda, he’d never suffered complete and total disinterest.
Why she was so disinterested was something he intended to find out.
“I haven’t changed my mind.” Josh saw her delicate jaw tighten and felt just perverse enough to add, “I was imagining how you might be in bed. If you’d be so prissy and ladylike then, or if you’d really let go. Maybe do a little screaming or something.”
A variety of expressions crossed her face in rapid succession—mortification, incredulity and finally, fury. She turned away from him, her arms crossed under her breasts.
The first words she spoke took him by surprise. “I’m not prissy.”
A slow grin started and spread until he almost laughed out loud. Had he managed to prick her vanity? “No?” He drawled the question, just to infuriate her more. “Seem prissy to me. I can’t know for sure, but I’m willing to bet even your toenails are painted, aren’t they?”
“So?”
He’d love to see her feet. They were small and narrow and forever arched in sexy high heels. She had great calves, but the skirts she wore were too long to see her thighs, more’s the pity.
“It’s cold.” She stared up at the glowing moon, rubbed her arms briskly and shivered. “Do you mean to stand here and insult me all night?”
Amanda had pulled on a soft, cream-colored cashmere coat with matching leather gloves. The outerwear was fashionable, but probably not very warm.
He could warm her, but she didn’t look receptive to that idea. “I didn’t consider it an insult. More like an observation.”
“Then I’d hate to hear your idea of an insult.”
Even miffed, she looked picture-perfect…and about as approachable as a china doll.
The woman stymied him. But then, he was up for a challenge.
Holding out his hand to her, Josh said, “My car’s this way.”
She slanted a suspicious, sideways glance at him. “Just tell me where we’re going and I’ll meet you there.”
Hell, no. Now that he had her, he wouldn’t take any chances on her changing her mind. For some reason, being with her tonight mattered more with each passing second. “Nope. We ride together.”
Her face fell. “But I have my car with me.” She gestured toward the street to a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle. Not the new spiffy version, but an older model.
Josh did a double take. That car most definitely did not fit her image of refined ladylike grace. The car looked…playful.
Amanda Barker was chock full of secrets. First, that disbelieving laugh when he’d propositioned her. Then her indignation at the suggestion she might be prissy, which was a bona fide fact as far as Josh was concerned. And now that fun car. He shook his head.
He could discuss the car with her later, Josh decided. “So? I’ll bring you back here for it after dinner.” She looked ready to refuse, and he added, “We can discuss the calendar along the way.”
That easily, she gave in. “Very well.” She stepped closer, but stayed just out of reach of his extended hand.
Challenged, Josh snagged her arm and held on to it. She didn’t pull away, but her nose did go into the air.
She had a beautiful profile, especially with her features softened by the shadows of the night and the opalescent sheen of the moon. Her neck was even graceful, and looked very kissable with tiny tendrils of tawny hair teasing her nape.
“Do you always wear your hair up?” He tried to imagine it loose, to guess how long or thick it might be.
In a voice snooty enough for a queen, she said, “My hair has nothing to do with dinner or the calendar.”
“It has to do with my fantasies though.” He tightened his hold when he felt her preparing to slip away. He lowered his voice and said, “I close my eyes at night and imagine your hair hanging free. Sometimes I can almost feel it on my stomach, or my thighs.”
She stopped so abruptly he nearly pulled her off her high heels. Gathering her poise and clutching her purse in front of her like a blockade, she said, “This is sexual harassment!”
Actually, it had turned into a wet dream a few nights ago, but Josh thought it might not be a good time to share that with her. “I see you’re out of practice.”
Indecision and frustration tightened her features. “What do you mean?”
Leaning close, Josh touched the end of her reddening nose and said, “Seduction, sweetheart. Not harassment.”
“I don’t want to be seduced!”
A couple of passersby stared, then laughed before hurrying away.
Josh took her arm and started her on her way again. “Take deep breaths, Amanda. It’ll be okay.”
One gloved hand covered her mouth. “Oh God, this is just awful.”
He didn’t want to say it, but he couldn’t let her start thinking of his pursuit as harassment. “You don’t have to be here, you know. You don’t work for me, I have no hold over you—”
“I need you for the calendar!”
“No,” he said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze, “you want me for the calendar.”
Miffed, she grouched, “I don’t know why. You’re absolutely—”
“Sticks and stones may break my bones…”
She looked like she wanted to scream again, but instead she stopped and straightened her shoulders, her spine. She pasted on a serene expression and even managed a smile.
Poor little thing, he thought. She worked so hard at maintaining all that elegant dignity when what she really wanted to do, what her nature demanded she do, was turn loose her temper and wallop him. He waited, anxious to hear what she’d say.
With shaking fingers she tidied her already tidy hair and smoothed her coat. “Where will we be eating?”
Josh waggled a finger at her. “That was way too restrained. I had myself all prepared and then, nothing but fizzle. I’d say I’m disappointed, but I think that’s what you’re after.” He leaned down to his car, unlocked and opened the door. “In you go.”
“This is yours?”
“Yep. Like it?”
She admired the shiny black Firebird convertible. “It’s very nice. Very…macho.” She settled herself inside, placing her feet just so, her hands in her lap. Amused, Josh reached around her to hook her seat belt.
“Oh!” She pressed herself back in the seat, avoiding any contact with him. “I can do that.”
“I’ve got it.” He liked buckling her in, taking care of her. He smoothed the belt into place, and in the process, skimmed her stomach with the backs of his fingers. Even through her clothes and a winter coat, the simple touch aroused him.
Pathetic.
He’d have laughed at himself, but he was too busy inhaling her perfume. He’d first caught the soft, seductive scent in the locker room, and it had been all he could do not to kiss her. With his nearness, her shiny pink-painted lips had trembled, enticing him.
But the panicked look in her deep brown eyes—a look she didn’t want him to see—had struck him deep.
Someone had hurt her, and he didn’t like it.
Josh walked around to the driver’s side, using the moment to come to grips with himself. Amanda wasn’t a woman he should involve himself with. She appealed to him sexually, but she wasn’t his normal type, wasn’t the type of woman he’d come to appreciate.
She wasn’t at all like Delilah or Wynonna. They were casual women, up front and honest and outspoken. He’d learned to appreciate those qualities.
Amanda, on the other hand, was so buttoned up she might as well have been wearing armor. And secrets! He was beginning to think everything about her was a mystery.
He’d meant to tease her, maybe te
ach her a lesson by turning the tables on her. He’d definitely meant to make love to her. Probably more than once.
But he hadn’t meant to start delving into her past, discovering her ghosts, involving himself in her life.
Yet, he knew it was too late. Like it or not, he was already involved. And it hadn’t taken any work on her part to get him there. No, she wanted nothing to do with him beyond using him for her damned calendar.
Josh intended to change all that.
But first there was something he had to know. As soon as he pulled into traffic, he girded himself, took a deep breath, and asked as casually as he could manage, “Are you afraid of me, Amanda?”
2
“WHAT?” AMANDA’S confused frown was genuine, relieving Josh on that score.
He shrugged. “We both know you’re afraid of something. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t me.”
She went rigid with indignation. “You do not frighten me, Lieutenant.”
“Ah, ah,” Josh chastised. He reached over and tickled her chin before she jerked away. “There you go again with that Lieutenant stuff. It’s Josh. We have an agreement.”
Silence fell heavily in the car, then she sighed. “Where are we going for dinner?”
He wasn’t about to tell her, not yet. “Someplace nice and quiet, so we can talk. But nothing fancy.”
“I’m not dressed for fancy anyway.”
He glanced at her. Other than the lights of passing vehicles and streetlamps occasionally flickering by they were held in a cocoon of darkness. Her nose was narrow and straight and aristocratic. With her wide eyes, that stubborn chin and the most luscious mouth he’d ever fantasized over, she was a beauty.
But that wasn’t what drew him. That wasn’t what had him suddenly hot with need. He’d known plenty of women, beautiful and otherwise. No, it was something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on yet.
“Amanda, you could go anywhere, anytime, and be suitably dressed.” As far as compliments went, it was subtle, not in the least aggressive, nothing for her to shy away from.
