by Leanne Banks
He’d seen flashes of her before, flashes that tempted and taunted as much as her curvy body and catch-me-if-you-can manner. Flashes of a woman who touched him deep inside. The notion shocked him even though he’d realized it before.
Troy didn’t want to be touched by a woman.
If the experience was anything like what he’d observed in his brothers, he’d end up touched in the head. Worse than that, though, Senada wasn’t exactly the girl next door. He wondered if he laid himself bare for her, if she’d use him the way the rest had. Watching her swim toward him, he took a deep breath of fortitude. Come hell or high water, he was determined to come out of this mercy mission unscathed. He glanced at the water and grimaced. He had the high water right now. He’d been through hell. Heaven knew what was next.
“Nice quiet night,” Troy said with satisfaction to Senada as she worked the bar.
“So far,” she told him, tilting her head toward Juan. “He’s been putting them back pretty fast.”
A man stomped into the room and headed straight for Juan.
Senada winced. “Oh no. Not again. Mr. Salderos.” She lifted a hand when Troy stood. “I’m handling it this time.”
Mr. Salderos immediately started in on Juan. Senada caught all of the man’s virulent words. He was clearly still upset about his unwed daughter’s pregnancy.
Troy came to her side. “What’s he saying?”
“He’s calling Juan a slew of insulting names for getting his daughter pregnant and abandoning her.” She turned to the man. “Mr. Salderos, I think it would be best—”
Mr. Salderos continued unabated.
Senada raised her voice. “Silencio!”
Mr. Salderos paused and stared at her, then turned to Juan and lifted his fist. Everything blurred together. Troy swore and pushed her away. Mr. Salderos’s fist connected with Troy’s mouth. Within a minute, all three men and Senada were outside in the dark parking lot.
Troy wiped his bloody mouth and winced. “We’re not doing this again.” He waved his hand at Senada. “You translate.”
Troy pointed his finger at Mr. Salderos. “You are not coming in here again to start anything with Juan.”
Senada repeated his words in Spanish.
“The next time, I’m hitting you back, and I’m not just hitting you once. I’m beginning to feel like I owe you.” He glanced at Juan. “Both of you.”
Senada translated for Mr. Salderos, and the older man backed slightly away.
Juan shrugged. “I deserve it. Let him hit me. She is the sweetest girl in the world, and I got her pregnant.”
“If she’s so damn sweet, why don’t you just marry her?” Troy retorted, dabbing at his still-bleeding lip with the back of his hand.
“I would marry her, but her father won’t let me see her.”
Troy and Senada stared at each other.
“Translate, please,” Troy said.
Senada repeated Juan’s words to Mr. Salderos, and the old man looked at Juan in surprise.
“You wish to marry her?” he asked in Spanish.
“Sí,” Juan said.
Mr. Salderos started talking again, this time in a brighter tone.
Troy regarded him with suspicion. “What’s he saying? I’m not gonna have to hit him, am I?”
Senada shook her head. “He’s setting the date for the wedding. Watch. They’ll shake hands in a minute.”
Sure enough. Three more minutes, and Mr. Salderos and Juan looked as if they could have been long-lost pals. Mr. Salderos patted Juan on the back and offered to take him home.
Senada glanced at Troy and took his hand in hers. “Let’s go back in and get some ice for your lip.”
“This is getting to be a habit,” he grumbled, lacing his fingers more securely through hers. He liked the sensation of her inner palm nestled against his. For such an innocent gesture, it had a big impact on him.
“Think it says something about your arbitration skills?”
He pulled her to a stop just inside the door. “I didn’t conduct the negotiations this time. I just stepped in when Mr. Salderos started to lose it.”
She blinked. “You’re right.” Her voice softened and she touched his jaw. “Thank you.”
Troy stood completely still. There was a rumbling deep inside him, and it wasn’t for food. It was like the threat of an earthquake, shifting his foundations. He took a deep breath.
Her eyelashes drifted over her eyes, shielding her expression from him as she moved away. “I’ll get you some ice. It’s almost closing time, anyway. Go have a seat.”
Senada gave Troy the ice, then avoided him for the next thirty minutes. She felt him watching her every move. Something about his gaze made her knees feel like jelly. Add to that the way he’d protected her, and she felt her defenses falling like a house of cards. Concentrating on the little tasks required to close the bar, she regained a little of her calm before she checked on him again.
“Let me see,” she said, bending to check his lip. She winced. The bruise on his cheek was just now starting to fade. Troy’s lip, however, was swollen. It looked painful. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. She took the ice from his hand and held it against his mouth. “If you were at home, would Carly take care of this?”
“Probably,” he muttered, his eyes intent, almost devouring.
Senada took a careful breath and fought a rush of want. “What would she do? Fuss at you?” she asked, her voice breathless to her own ears.
“Fuss a little,” he said, tugging her closer and spreading his legs open so she could step between them. “Then she’d probably say I need to find someone to kiss and make it better.”
Senada was acutely aware of his masculine heat and scent. “I can’t kiss your mouth,” she whispered. “It would hurt you.”
He pulled her down on his lap.
She could have pulled away, should have pulled away, but she wasn’t remotely interested in going anywhere. Her chest felt tight, her heart was thumping, her nerve endings were jazzed. All because this man looked at her as if he’d like to eat her for dessert.
“Find somewhere else to kiss me, Sin.”
Chapter Six
Sin considered her options. She could tell him to forget it and leave, but there was a delicious fire in her blood and an irresistible I-dare-you glint in his violet eyes that made her want to play.
“Somewhere else,” she repeated in mock despair as she brushed his hair off his forehead.
“But there are too many choices.” She leaned forward.
“I suppose,” she continued, “I could kiss your forehead.” She barely skimmed her lips over his forehead and felt him go very still. A heady sense of power swirled inside her.
“Or one of your eyelids.” She gave a butterfly kiss on one of his eyelids.
“Or your cheek.” She kissed the bruised one very gently but didn’t move away. Instead she inhaled his scent. She liked the way he smelled, a unique blend of man and aftershave. She liked the sense of his strength beneath her. She liked feeling in control.
Troy wrapped one of his hands around her hips and drew her against the cradle of his hard masculinity. Her feeling of control flipped like a pancake. “Don’t stop now,” he said in a dark voice full of longing.
Something inside her tore a little. Restraint, denial frayed around the edges. The waitresses had gone. The cook had gone. Senada was acutely aware that they were alone.
It was more dark than light. She leaned forward and rubbed her open mouth just below his ear.
He sucked in a deep breath. “Touch me,” he whispered.
Part plea, part demand, his words were intimate. Her heart thudded against her rib cage. “Where?”
“Anywhere,” he murmured, moving his hands up her arms. “Everywhere.”
So she kissed her reservations goodbye and kissed Troy Pendleton’s neck instead. Bolder than she should have been, she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands over his artfully carved pectorals, skimming her fin
gernail over one nipple.
He shuddered.
“Want me to stop?” she asked.
“No,” he growled, tugging at her shirt.
Senada licked his throat.
He swore, and within seconds, his hands cupped her breasts. His thumbs drew mesmerizing circles around her nipples.
Wicked sensations shot through her. “Oh!”
“Want me to stop?” he muttered.
She closed her eyes at the way his touch made her tighten lower and deeper inside. “No.” She pressed against him for a moment, then backed away slightly.
“Where you going?”
Senada was operating on instinct. Her lungs weren’t functioning all that well. She took a shallow breath. “I’m going to kiss your…” She put her mouth on his hard chest and felt him quiver beneath her.
He swore. “Don’t stop,” he said, pushing aside her bra and gently squeezing her breasts.
She hadn’t been planning on it. Senada was on automatic sensual pilot. She wrapped her tongue around one flat male nipple and skimmed her hands over his stomach.
Troy made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.
“Like that?” she said, pulling his shirt out of his jeans.
He wrapped his hands around her rib cage and tugged her close, pulling her mouth upward. His eyes were nearly black with arousal, his nostrils flaring with the effort of his breath. Her bare breasts brushed against his chest. “I’ve never wanted to kiss a woman this much in my life.”
Her heart jerked at his words and the sight of his bruised mouth. “You ca—”
He shifted her intimately against him and lowered his mouth to the tip of one of her breasts. The sight and feel of his mouth on her undid her. She closed her eyes. “You shouldn’t. Your mouth. You’ll hurt—”
He rocked against her intimately, and she went mindless.
“Ohhh.” Her legs were wrapped around his hips, his erection pressing against where she was soft and wet. If they’d been without clothes, he would be inside her. The thought drove her mad, and she instinctively rubbed against his hard masculinity.
He moved and she moved in delicious, torturous, sensual friction that sent sparks through her nerve endings. His mouth barely glanced her breasts, but his tongue tasted and teased. Her hands flowed over his shoulders.
She felt him tug loose the button to her black jeans and push down the zipper, felt it but didn’t quite comprehend it. When his fingers slid beneath her panties, to her moist femininity, however, she jolted in surprise.
“Calm down,” he murmured. “Just want to touch you a little bit. Just a little bit.”
His words cut through her protest, and he rubbed her until she was wet with wanting. Her mouth was dry, and she was always conscious of his hardened masculinity so close, yet so far. She was just about to tell him to stop when he thrust his finger inside her.
Senada gave an uncontrollable shiver.
“C’mon, Senada,” he told her in a low, sexy voice. “Give it to me.”
He thrust his finger inside her again, using his thumb against her swollen button of sensation. Another thrust and she spun out of control. Her inner muscles clenched in fits and starts, and she couldn’t stop the sob of pleasure that broke from her throat.
She sank against his chest and gasped for breath. Good Lord! She couldn’t remember when she’d had such a powerful release. Although stunned, she was aware of the evidence of his arousal pressed against her. Instinctively, she slid her hand down to cup him.
“Sin, no, you don’t—”
She rubbed him through his jeans, skimming her fingernail down his zipper.
“Stop,” he said, putting his hand over hers. “I don’t want you doing this just because I—”
“Gave me a great climax.” She unbuttoned his jeans, warming to the task. “One good time deserves another.”
“No.” He stayed her hand again, this time more firmly.
His violet eyes were serious. “I don’t want you doing this out of some weird sense of gratitude. I did what I wanted to do, and you letting go was a gift.”
Her heart swelled in her chest. Men always expected their turn, nearly always demanded it. Sometimes they wanted their turn first, every time. She almost didn’t know how to take his response. He was still very hard. He obviously still wanted her. She tilted her head to one side and skimmed her hand down his chest to his abdomen, to the unfastened button.
“I never knew unselfishness could be so sexy, Troy.” She looked up and held his gaze at the same time she deliberately lowered his zipper. She leaned forward and kissed his jaw.
“There’s my thank-you.” She slid her hand inside his briefs and watched his eyes darken. “This is because I want to.”
Troy’s only words after that were a mingling of curses and praise. Senada felt every one of his moans inside her. When he went over the edge, she held him tightly and wondered why she felt she’d never been more intimate with a man.
Late that night, Troy followed her up the walkway. He was a little off-kilter. He couldn’t remember a more powerful lovemaking experience, and they hadn’t even been undressed. He was awash with emotion, amazement, arousal, affection and a strange overwhelming protectiveness toward Sin.
She started to open the door, but he put his palm flat against it and lowered his swollen mouth to just behind her ear. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She turned around and looked at him, her dark eyes seeming even darker in the moonlight. “Are you?”
Her reciprocal question caught him off guard. He shook his head. “I don’t know. Give me a few more minutes.” He dipped his head, then looked back at her with a serious gaze. “Sin, I know something’s going on with you. I know it’s something—” he hesitated, then went on “—to do with your health. If you need—”
Senada’s eyes widened in fear. “My health.” She laughed, but the sound was forced. “Have you been hitting the tequila lately?” She turned back around. “I have a healthier lifestyle than I’ve ever had.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “C’mon, Sin, you can tell me. Especially after tonight. After we—”
She shook her head and jammed the key into the lock. “My health is fine.”
His heart tightened like a vise. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let me in. Let me help. Let me closer.”
“I let you get close earlier, Troy,” she said, stepping through the doorway. “That should have been enough.”
Frustration ate at him. “Well, it wasn’t. I want to know the truth about what’s going on. I want to know your secrets. I want to know everything.”
She turned back to face him, her eyes sparking with emotion that rivaled his own. “You think you have the right to know my soul because of what happened tonight. Tonight was about two people who got real hot and took some pleasure. No strings, no rights, no promises. Don’t be confused.”
Her words hit him like a slap. He didn’t know if he was more angry with the hurt he was feeling or her continued reluctance to come clean with him. “Excuse me,” he said, hearing the sarcasm in his voice. “I forgot you don’t know how to get emotionally involved with a man.” Then he turned on his heel and headed back to his car.
Senada trembled and damned herself for her weakness. Letting the screen door swing shut, she watched him. Even in the dark, she could see the hurt and anger rising off him like steam.
“You don’t know how to get emotionally involved with a man.”
His words echoed off the corners of her mind. So true. It wasn’t news-flash material, but his statement made her feel shallow. She’d never really felt that way before. She’d always steered clear of emotional involvement with men because she’d learned an important lesson when her father left her mother. Men don’t stay.
Don’t count on them, and your heart will be safe.
Troy wasn’t like the other men she’d been involved with. Senada knew it in her head and gut. In her heart? She sighed, trembling again. She’d thought
her heart was protected, immune. But she felt an odd ache in her chest that she’d never felt before.
Troy stayed away from the bar for the next two days. Too annoyed to be reasonable, he considered throwing the towel in and going back to Tennessee. Senada Calhoun was just plain hell on his nerves.
“I’m not getting anywhere,” he told Brick on the phone as he paced from one end of his crummy little room to the other. “I hate this motel. I’m surprised the damn phone works. Nothing else does.” Perspiration trickled down his back, and he swore under his breath.
“You haven’t found out anything, anything at all?” Brick asked, the sound of a screaming baby in the background.
Troy pulled the phone away from his ear at the loud noise, then gingerly put it back. “For Pete’s sake, give the kid a pacifier or something. She sounds as if you’re pinching her.”
“Lisa’s worn out. Trying to take a nap. This one’s teething. I’m pacing.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Back to Senada. Lisa’s getting antsy. I wouldn’t put it past her to come down there herself. Have you got anything?”
Troy hesitated. “I might. Nothing definite. Don’t tell Lisa, but I followed Senada to a doctor’s clinic and a pharmacy where she picked up some prescriptions. Saw a wrapper for—” He stopped, suddenly reluctant to disclose the rest.
“A wrapper for what?” Brick prodded.
“Nothing,” Troy said. “I haven’t figured it out, yet. She seems healthy, conscious of her diet and all that stuff. It’s clear as mud right now.”
“Listen, Troy, if you really want to come back, you can. Sin’s stubborn as hell, but I sure didn’t think it would take this long to try to reason with her. I mean,” he added dryly, “it’s not as if I was the one trying to reason with her. She hates my guts.”
“Not really,” Troy corrected. “She just lets you think that because she likes to see you squirm. She knows Lisa is happy with you. Of course, she thinks all the Pendleton men are primitive, protective and dense.”
