And they had, Georgia realized. They’d been hit with the voltage of Linc’s megawatt sex appeal.
They’d been hit with more.
Unfortunately, rather than becoming accustomed to his touch and what it could do to her, Georgia seemed only to be getting worse. When he’d crouched down and looked at her tattoo this morning, she’d had to bite her bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud with pleasure. His fingers were warm and strong, and those mossy green eyes had darkened and dilated with heat when he’d looked up at her. He could have let her go, could have stopped doodling on her foot at any point after he’d realized it was a frog. But had he? No.
Though it could merely be insanity on her part, Georgia got the impression the same wild ignorant urge that currently had her under its thumb had knuckled Linc under, as well.
Georgia would like to chalk his interest up to her irresistibility, but figured a more likely reason lay in the fact that she didn’t let him mow over her, and she wasn’t constantly making gooey eyes at him. From what little time she’d spent in his company, she’d managed to peg what sort of woman he dated. She’d be beautiful, easily enamored and disposable. Georgia, who had no illusions about being beautiful, would admit to be a wee bit enamored, but would not allow herself to be disposable.
That was why she’d insisted on doing the fake dumping in their fake relationship. In the event that things got any more complicated between them—translate: she completely lost her mind and indulged in the more that had eluded her for her entire sexual life—then she’d be the one to call it quits, not him.
Though she’d like to think she could keep things purely casual between them, Georgia already knew better. There was that rush of sweet emotion that blanketed her heart every time he did something exasperating or boorish. It was the unexpected smile that tugged at her mouth when he said something politically incorrect. It was the way he had to touch everything to understand it.
That little character trait had been particularly evident this morning when they’d stopped by his loft. Georgia had remembered a lot in detail, but having the time to wander about while he changed and look at things, well…she’d been able to look deeper.
The studio, in particular, had been a treasure trove of discovery. Despite knocking her for being so organized, she’d noticed that Linc made sure to keep everything in its proper place, as well. The room had been neat and efficient, and the art…
There’d been something distinctly sensual about the pieces she’d seen. Smooth and rounded, heavy, but finely crafted. It had been all too easy to imagine him there at the wheel, shirtless, those strong hands molding and shaping, creating a work of art from a lump of clay.
From what she could tell he’d been experimenting with different finishes, as well. While most were cast in varying earth tones, there were also deep blues and aqua tones. She’d been especially drawn to a tall, curving vase in a compelling shade of green, eerily like his eyes.
Linc had caught her looking at it and had actually blushed. Linc Stone—blush. It boggled the mind. For someone to be so sure and certain about everything else, this little flash of vulnerability made him more…human somehow, for lack of a better term.
It was also much more dangerous.
He was more than just a badass bounty hunter, more than just a gorgeous muscle-bound man with wonderful hands, a set of mouthwateringly large shoulders and six-pack abs. He was more than just a guitar-playing artist with a penchant for junk food and high-end electronics. He was more than a wicked smile and wicked sense of humor. He was more than just his father’s son and Cade and Gracie’s brother.
She watched him laugh at something Cade said and felt a small, sad smile slide cross her lips.
No, Linc Stone was a guy she could fall in love with—so much for knowing when she was in love, Georgia thought, more confused than ever—and somehow that was more terrifying than the possibility of never finding her mother’s ring.
“SORRY WE’RE GETTING such a late start,” Linc said, shooting a look at Georgia. She’d been strangely quiet since they’d gotten back on the road. “I didn’t realize the photo shoot was going to take so long, otherwise I would have rescheduled.”
“No problem,” she assured him. “Taking care of that was important. Besides, it’s not like we’ve been hot on his trail.” She pulled a frown. “So far we haven’t found the first clue.”
Linc smiled at her. “You’re not losing faith in me, are you?”
“Not in you, specifically,” Georgia told him. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t beginning to get a little discouraged.”
“Georgia, we’ve only just started. This is the nature of the business. This is how it works. You watched Dog, didn’t you?” he teased. Where had his determined, scrappy little fighter gone? Where was his stun-gun-toting wedding planner out for revenge? He hated that she was discouraged, hated that he couldn’t magically fix things for her. It made him feel helpless and angry. “Did he find his guy the first place he looked?”
That brought her smile out of hiding. “No, but damned close. I think you’d have better luck if you grew your hair out into a mullet and wore reflective shades.”
He glanced at her sexy curls. “I see you left yours down today.”
“Well, I could hardly wear it in a ponytail after you told me I could hire out to haunt houses with it up,” she said wryly.
“I didn’t tell you that you could h-hire out to h-haunt houses,” he said, chuckling under his breath. “I merely suggested that it looked better down.”
A droll smile rolled across her lips and she feigned surprise. “Oh, really. ‘It’s ghastly’ was only a ‘suggestion’?”
“Hire out to haunt houses,” Linc repeated, snorting. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“That’s right,” she said, nodding primly. “I’m a masterpiece.”
Another unexpected laugh broke up in his throat and he reached over and slung an arm around her neck. “There we go,” he said, dragging her closer to him. “My little smart-ass is back.”
“Back to the name calling, are we, dickwad?”
Linc bit his tongue to keep from laughing again. “You have to stop calling me that.”
“What?” she asked innocently. “You don’t like it?”
“What’s there to like about it?”
“Well, it’s better than dickless, isn’t it?”
“Georgia.”
“Fine. I’ll see if I can come up with something different.”
“Excellent. Leave the word dick out of it, please.”
She tsked under her breath. “Are you always so picky?”
He pulled into the Vacation Inn parking lot and turned to stare at her, purposely letting his gaze trail over her mouth long enough to make her lick her lips. “Believe it or not, Trouble, I am quite picky.”
He had the pleasure of watching a nervous sigh slip from between those ripe lips. “There’s nothing wrong with being particular, I suppose.”
“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” As though propelled by some hidden force, he leaned forward and brushed a whisper of a kiss across her lips. “Let’s roll,” he said. “And remember to—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Follow your lead.”
“For the record, there’s a different play for who’s behind the counter. When a guy’s behind the counter, you’re going to be looking for Carter because you want to get laid.”
From the corner of his eye, he watched Georgia’s mouth drop open in outrage. “I—What?” She hurried to keep up with him.
Resisting the urge to smile, Linc peered through the plate glass door and saw a middle-aged blonde who looked like she’d seen her share of losers over the years. “You’re in luck this time because it’s a woman.”
“How do I play it if it’s a woman?” she asked suspiciously.
Linc grinned at her and reached for the door. “No worries. You’re only pregnant.”
Georgia stalled in the doorway and, mou
th open once again, glared at him. “No, I’m not,” she said through gritted teeth.
He nudged her forward. “Yes, you are. Now go ask if he’s been here.”
Mumbling something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “dickhead,” Georgia plastered a smile on her face and tentatively moved to the counter.
The clerk welcomed them with a pleasant, “Good afternoon,” followed by the obligatory, “How can I help you?”
“Hi,” Georgia replied nervously. “I was actually looking for someone and wondered if you’d seen him.”
“Ma’am, our guest information is private,” she said. “I’m sure you understand.”
“I do, but if you could just take a look,” Georgia said, using her most charming wedding-planner voice and sliding the photo across the counter. “I would really appreciate it. It’s…important.”
“Ma’am, I’m afraid that’s against company policy. I wish I could help you, but I can’t.”
Time for him to interfere, Linc decided. He walked over and put his arm around Georgia, giving her a careful concerned squeeze. “It’s all right, sis. We’ll keep looking until we find him. And when we do, I’m going to beat enough child support out of him to last a lifetime.” He glanced at the clerk, whose brow had furrowed, and nodded. “Thanks for your help, ma’am. Sorry we bothered you.”
Georgia picked up the photo and, still nestled under his arm and playing the grieving-knocked-up-single-girl-in-search-of-the-lowlife-that-had-left-her, turned with him and started to walk away.
Three, two, one…
“Wait!”
They paused and turned around. “Yes?” Georgia asked hopefully.
The clerk sighed. “Let me take a look at that, would you?”
Georgia nodded and handed the picture over.
The woman studied the picture for a few seconds, then handed it back. “I’ve seen this guy before, but it’s been a few days. He’s not what you’d call a regular, but he’s stayed here from time to time.”
Linc pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to her. “Next time he comes in, we’d sure appreciate it if you gave us a call,” he told her.
She nodded determinedly. “You can bet I will.” She glanced at Georgia and a kind smile shaped her lips. “When are you due, sweetie?”
“August,” Georgia said, smiling, though a shadow had moved across her eyes. “Thanks for your help.”
Linc walked her back to the truck and opened the door for her. “Feel better?” he asked. “It’s been a few days, but he’s been here. It’s the start we’ve been looking for.”
“Do you think she’ll really call when she realizes you’re a bounty hunter?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Your card, genius,” she said. “You gave her your card.”
Linc chuckled. “Give me some credit, Trouble. I gave her a card, not my card. The one she’s holding says I’m Lincoln Holbrook, general contractor.”
Georgia smiled and inclined her head. “Forgive me for doubting you.”
Linc nodded. “Damn straight.” He closed her door, then joined her inside the truck.
“Lincoln Holbrook?” she asked. “Where’d that come from?”
“My birth certificate. I’m named after my grandfathers.” Intrigued, he slid her a glance. “What’s your middle name?”
“Cecille. So what’s next?”
Linc pulled into the all-night pancake house next to the hotel they’d just left and shifted into Park. Cecille, he thought, testing the name. It suited her. It was classy, like her.
“We start canvassing,” he said. “Same plan, same story. He’s been in the area. Now it’s time to tighten the noose and run him to ground.”
Her eyes twinkled and a slow smile tugged at her ripe lips. “You’re in your element now, aren’t you?”
Linc grinned and pulled a shrug. “Sweetheart, I’m always in my element. You just let a little doubt cloud your vision.”
An exaggerated wrinkle developed between Georgia’s brows. “How on earth do you carry it?”
“Carry what?”
“That enormous ego,” she said. “It’s got to weigh a ton.”
Linc snorted. “Yeah, well, that streak of sarcasm you’ve got going on can’t be easy to haul around, either.”
“Sarcasm is light,” she said.
“So is confidence.” Linc studied her for a minute, ridiculously turned on as a result of this little verbal volley. “You know what I think?”
She blinked, feigning surprise. “You have thoughts? Seriously?”
“I think you argue with me because it makes you hot.”
A startled chuckle broke up in her throat and she blushed adorably. “The weight of that ego has cracked your brain. I argue with you because it amuses me.”
“Then why are your nipples hard?”
Georgia gasped and looked down at her chest. “My nipples aren’t hard,” she said, her voice oddly strangled.
“But you thought they were, or you wouldn’t have looked.” He gave her an up-nod and chewed the inside of his cheek. “Admit it. You want me.”
She studied him for a moment, those smooth, dark eyes equally outraged and resigned. Though it had started out as a joke of sorts, Linc suddenly realized how important her answer was. Did he want her? More than his next breath. More than was prudent, particularly given the emotional tug to her he simply couldn’t deny, not to mention his terrifying penchant for mentally dressing her in a damned wedding gown. But he couldn’t seem to help himself, couldn’t make himself not want her, and dammit, he wanted her to want him, as well. He wanted her to need him as much as he needed her. Which was ridiculous when he knew she was looking for a forever kind of thing, and he no longer knew what in the hell he was looking for.
He just knew he’d found her and, at the moment, that was all that mattered.
“I want lots of things, Linc,” she finally said. “I want ice cream for breakfast and candy bars for lunch. I want to skip exercise class and play hooky from work. I want to stay up all night and sleep all day.” She lifted a shoulder. “Like I said, I want a lot of things. But that doesn’t make them good for me.”
Unable to help himself, Linc felt a wicked chuckle bubble up his throat. He reached over and slipped the pad of his thumb over her distractingly sexy mouth. “Sweetheart, make no mistake, I would be good for you.”
But he grimly suspected she’d ultimately be the death of him.
10
MAKE NO MISTAKE. I’d be good for you.
Despite the fact they’d spent all day and a good portion of the evening hitting all of the hotels, restaurants and coffee shops in the airport area looking for Carter—or any sign of Carter—and despite the fact that she’d rehearsed the whole poor-pregnant-me spiel until she almost believed it herself, those words from Linc had haunted her all damned day.
Because she knew they were true.
In the sexual sense, anyway, which was exactly how he meant it, the sneaky bastard.
Now, here they were, at the end of another day and rather than looking forward to her bath and bed, she was loath to see him go.
Why? Georgia asked herself. Because clearly she was an ignorant glutton for punishment who couldn’t control her basic instincts. Furthermore, as ridiculous as it sounded, if Linc was right and Carter was just out of grasp, then though she’d hopefully have her mother’s ring back…her time with Linc would be up. Just a few days ago that would have suited her perfectly, but now…Now, as goofy and improbable as it sounded, she’d miss him.
“Does your brother often stand at his door and watch for you to come home?” Linc asked as they drove past Jack’s house.
Georgia chuckled tiredly. “Er…no. He’s got Karen spying on me. I told her to call him and let him know that I’d be coming home soon.”
He shook his head and his gaze tangled with hers. The dashlights illuminated that beautiful masculine profile. He had the most amazing bone structure, Georgia though
t. As finely crafted as those pieces of pottery he molded. “So the whole guardian thing is for my benefit then?”
She smiled. “He perceives you as a threat. I wonder what ever would have given him that idea,” she mused dramatically. Her eyes rounded. “Oh, wait. You told him you were my boyfriend.”
Linc hummed under his breath and pulled his SUV up behind her car. “I wonder what he’s going to say then when I spend the night.”
Georgia’s mouth parched. She knew it was inevitable. Knew she wanted him to stay. That this was going to happen. “S-spend the night?”
“It’s late. I’m tired.” A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I was hoping for a little southern hospitality.”
They both knew he was hoping for more than that, but rather than point it out, Georgia decided she should battle the almost irresistible urge to squirm in her seat. He was giving her an out, she knew. Letting her know that if she didn’t want this to happen she could simply refuse and life as they knew it would continue to exist. He could have kissed her and she would have forgotten to protest. He could have taken advantage of her own desire, but instead he’d put the ball firmly in her court.
Because, at the end of the day, her badass bounty hunter was a gentleman.
And that, Georgia decided, combined with the more she so desperately wanted, was a gesture that she couldn’t and didn’t want to refuse. A wicked thrill of anticipation moved through her.
“Do you have clothes?”
He smiled, the grin packing enough heat to raise the temperature in the cab a good ten degrees. “I’m a bounty hunter, Trouble. I’m always prepared.”
Her belly fluttered. “I thought that was the Boy Scouts.”
He grunted and reached for a bag in the back. “Boy Scouts are pansies.”
Another politically incorrect, boorish thing to say and yet she found it thrillingly adorable. God help her, she was losing her mind…and possibly another significant organ if she wasn’t careful.
Feeling The Heat Page 11
