by Nikki Duncan
“Is this him?” Trevor asked. “Is saving you why he missed our appointment?”
She nodded. The picture didn’t show the hook he sported instead of a hand, but the man from the picture had been the man who’d ridden off on a three-wheeled Harley. “He acted when no one else would.”
Chapter Three
I am assuming from your absence this morning and your lack of a phone call that you are no longer interested in the position.
Jace had known stopping to help that woman, Misty Morgan, would cost him the interview, and likely any chance at a second shot. Masters’s words on his voicemail confirmed it. Rather than dwell on the close-mindedness of yet another person, he’d turned his phone off and headed to the gym. Swimming laps, lifting weights, pounding a punching bag and sparring with a fellow black belt had eased the edge of his anger.
Minimally.
Now, dinner and a beer later, he was still enraged that Misty, just another gorgeous woman who was no doubt used to getting by on her looks, didn’t see how wearing skimpy suits invited trouble or screwed up lives.
“You could’ve blamed her much more effectively if you’d gotten her number, man.”
Jace cut a glare across the table, looked at the closest thing to a friend he had in town. Kyle was good company to share a beer with, but he didn’t have much substance. He would have gotten her number without giving a thought to how she dressed. Hell, he’d have gone after her number just because of her body in those clothes.
“I want nothing to do with a woman who begs for that kind of attention.” A sexy woman who chose provocative business suits and sashayed her hips when she walked and teased with her legs in stilettos.
“You think all women who know how to dress for their body style are inviting creeps to go after them?”
His belly flip-flopped at the thought of her. That had happened multiple times through the day, and he didn’t like it. “Doing it without knowing how to defend herself is plain stupid.”
Then again, with her looks few would expect anything different.
“Do your fellow man a favor.” Kyle took a drink of beer and then smiled. “Keep your theories to yourself just in case a gorgeous woman overhears and decides to cover up.”
“I’d rather have a passably pretty woman with a brain in her head.”
“Wow. You’re a regular prince. I wonder how you’ve failed to find the right woman.”
“You’re assuming there is a right one.” Jace wouldn’t argue that a lot of married people loved each other, but there were more who didn’t. So desperate to not be alone they signed up for online dating services with false track records or jumped into marrying the first person they had basic chemistry with.
Hell, he’d had basic chemistry with Misty that morning, not that it mattered. She’d been attractive. His body had reacted to her once the pressure of saving her let off. He’d had the chance to stand by and listen to her retell her version to the cops. She’d apparently fought pretty hard in the moments she’d been out of his sight, but that didn’t make her right.
“What good is life if you assume there isn’t a woman out there who can fill every need you have?”
“There are a lot of women who can do that.”
“Emotional needs.”
“I have no emotional needs.”
“Yes, you do.”
Jace raised his hand to motion the waitress for another beer. He wasn’t drunk enough to get into an emotionally philosophical bar discussion. For a year Kyle had only been interested in random stranger sex. The new attitude didn’t make sense. “You suddenly into emotions?”
“We all need emotions. We just don’t talk about them.”
“Because we’re men.” And it served no purpose to talk about the kind of woman he’d consider spending his life with. She didn’t exist.
“Then as a man, why didn’t you have steel ones big enough to call Masters about a second chance?”
“I don’t beg.” He’d been aware of Masters’s one-shot theory when it came to his security guys. He had to respect that given the seriousness of the technological advancements to be protected at Blue Chip.
“It’s not like you’re blaming an alarm clock for oversleeping, Jace.”
He’d known going to help the woman, Misty, would ruin his chance. It had been half the right thing to do. He nodded a silent thanks for the waitress when she brought another beer.
“You aren’t going to call?”
“No.”
I am assuming from your absence this morning and your lack of a phone call that you are no longer interested in the position. I expect a large sense of duty from my security team and lateness is the first sign that’s lacking. Good luck in your endeavors.
Like that last line invited a call.
“Oh come on.” Kyle insisted passionately as if he was somehow involved. “The very thing the man says he values most is the thing that sidetracked you. He deserves to know that. You owe it to your reputation to make sure he knows that.”
“No.”
“He’s not as hard ass as you’re making him out to be,” Kyle tried again.
“Masters made his point clear.” Leaning back in the booth, Jace scanned the hole-in-the-wall bar he’d come to favor. With its dark wood and large bar commanding a huge space in the middle of the floor and regulars who knew each other, it reminded him a little of the bar in a sitcom he used to watch on TV. There was even a fat man perched on a stool at the end of the bar regularly. The best part was that no one cared about Jace’s hook. “I don’t need to worry about close-minded people and their views on what’s important.”
“You’re bitter.”
“Realistic.” He lifted his hook and rotated his arm at the elbow. The clasp like hook glinted in the light. “Once he’d seen this he’d never have trusted me with his security.”
“You lost that through no fault of your own.”
“I was the commanding officer.”
“Who pulled two men out of the building before they lost more than an arm.” Kyle hardened his voice, as he always did on the rare occasion Jace allowed himself to talk briefly about his last mission. “You have the Purple Heart to prove you were heroic.”
And the discharge papers to prove how they view me. He wished he hadn’t had them put the Purple Heart on his license plate. Irritated, like he was every time he thought about it, he chugged a healthy portion of his beer and slammed the glass back to the table. “Damn it, I don’t care about being a hero. I just want to get a job that doesn’t bore me and live my life.”
“Says the man who rescued a woman from the clutches of danger when no one else considered it.”
“Civilians suck.”
“Not so much that you’ve given up on them.”
Jace closed his eyes and inhaled more of his beer. The temporary darkness wouldn’t offer escape and he’d have to drink several more before he came close to making himself forget every truth Kyle forced him to face, but he didn’t like getting that drunk.
Kyle whistled long and low. “Well, hello beautiful.”
Whoever the woman was who’d entered, she represented everything he’d been talking about. A woman who showcased her body for men to attract them and make them turn stupid. Curious if he was right, Jace opened his eyes and turned to follow Kyle’s leering appreciation.
His heart lurched. His dick saluted. His rage bellowed.
Dressed in a suit much like she’d worn that morning, though maybe an inch longer in the skirt, the blonde he’d been cursing all day slid onto a bar stool beside a man who couldn’t tear his lecherous stare from her ass. If she noticed the direction of the man’s eyes and thoughts she didn’t care. Every man in the place watched her and she was as oblivious as she’d been that morning.
The woman was tormenting him. Or following him.
Misty gave the bar a quick glance as she moved with Dewayne to the bar stools. Unlike rowdy dance bars with blaring music, the bar’s darker wood and stained glass
touches with quietly playing blues music catered to a more sedate, and perhaps romantic, crowd. Or at least a crowd preferring a stress-free and safe-feeling escape from life’s chaos.
“This place is great, Dewayne. I only live a few blocks away, but have never been here.” Misty braced her forearms on the bar and sighed. “Thanks for inviting me out.”
“Thanks for keeping me from a bored night in my hotel room.”
The bartender introduced herself as Sam and took their drink orders. Dewayne ordered a beer from the tap. Misty ordered a margarita on the rocks with an extra shot of tequila. She’d stopped the uncontrollable shaking hours ago, but the lingering feel of that thug’s hands on her… Her skin rippled with repulsion she’d struggled to keep suppressed all day. She’d needed to appear relaxed as much for herself as for her clients and coworkers.
Maybe eventually her body and mind would be on the same chapter. The only time that had happened all day though was when she thought back to Jace. He’d never touched her, but the moment he’d made his presence known the air had shifted. She’d felt secure, and even thinking about him had the same sense settling over her.
Dewayne bumped her shoulder with his. “You’ve gone away again.”
“Sorry.” She’d warned him earlier she may not be very good company. He’d sweetly disagreed. “Lisa is lucky to have you.”
“She’s the best thing in my world.” He stated it with such matter-of-fact conviction anyone listening would know they’d been through good and crappy times together.
“You guys have been friends for twenty years?”
“Twenty-four.” Dewayne nodded thanks when Sam delivered their drinks. “We met at our first co-ed party when we had to go into the closet for seven minutes. We came out best friends.”
“And never once did you want the relationship to be more? Because I have to say, when you two walked in this morning for her appointment I just knew you were the fiancé. You have awesome chemistry together.”
“No. We would never work as a couple even if we wanted.”
Misty rested an elbow on the bar and turned to face Dewayne more directly. The idea of being in such a close relationship with a man and there being nothing sexual about it intrigued her. Mostly the lack of demand on his part was intriguing. “Why not?”
“I travel forty-eight weeks out of the year. Lisa has always wanted a family right down to the picturesque house with two kids running around. She needs a husband who will be there day in and day out.”
“And you think she’s found him in Toby?”
“Definitely.”
“Then where’s he been during all the meetings I’ve had with her?”
“Taking extra shifts at the hospital. Basically he’s banking favors so when the major wedding stuff hits he’s got plenty of chips to trade in with the other docs.”
“But these plans—”
“Are nothing compared to what they’ll be dealing with when all their family starts coming into town,” Dewayne pointed out. “And every time she’s had an appointment with someone in your company they’ve huddled together that night on the couch to go over the plans.”
Misty chuckled. The indecisive bride suddenly didn’t seem so indecisive. “Is that why we’ve all had so many appointments with her?”
“Yeah.”
“And your role today?”
“Company. I was in town and it was an excuse to see her.” With a curve of his lips his demeanor changed from regular guy talking about a friend to the flirt he’d been in the office. He traced a finger from Misty’s elbow to her wrist and back again. His eyes glimmered with interest. “And I got to meet you. If I’m really lucky I’ll talk you into a late-night coffee.”
“And by coffee you mean sex.” Misty smiled. If she hadn’t just been attacked that morning, and if he was in town for more than a couple of days, she might have entertained the idea. Her belly knotted. He was too transient. She was too raw.
“Of course he means sex,” a hard voice ground out behind her.
Dewayne’s hand froze on her arm. He glanced over her shoulder and swallowed. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. Despite the disapproval snapping in his tone a feeling of security enshrouded her. “Jace Nichols.”
“Misty Morgan.” He stepped around so she could see him. “I see this morning taught you nothing.”
Unfounded intimacies hovered, hinted at a deeper meaning than Jace’s actual words. Dewayne removed his hand from her arm and paid close attention to his drink. Jace’s skill at projecting menace to one person and security to another was eerie. And arousing.
Misty shifted on the stool and confronted Jace. She didn’t want to have the attack broadcast to everyone, especially a client’s confidante, but neither would she allow this man to degrade her.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to Dewayne before she walked to the hall leading toward the restrooms and a party room.
Halfway into the hall Jace grabbed her arm and pulled her into the back room. “You should have learned your lesson.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” She jerked free.
“You wear those short skirts. It’s no wonder I had to pull your ass from the flames this morning.” The left side of his nose twitched in disgust. “Here you are again in another short skirt and tight jacket allowing a man to lay hands on you.”
“Jace.” She interrupted him with a calm that would evaporate quickly if he didn’t stop.
“You invite the attention of men, no matter what their intentions.”
“Jace,” she said again. “You need to stop. Now.”
“You toss that hair back and bat your eyes and men beg you to join them in bed.”
This man was arrogance personified. His attitude had her ready to fight, but it didn’t turn her off. Some warped part of her liked that he was ranting about her clothes and looks. Liked that he noticed her and, unlike other men, wasn’t set on seducing her.
“Jace Nichols.” Misty moved closer, forcing Jace to take a step back. “You don’t know me or anything about me.” She dug a nail into his chest, driving him back another step. “You know nothing about what’s going on between my companion and me.”
“I know he’s not man enough to stand up for you.”
“Contrary to what you may believe, I don’t need a man to stand up for me.”
He lowered his head so his face was inches from hers. His breaths brushed her skin. Her lips parted. When he spoke it was with that quiet danger he did so well. “That wasn’t true this morning.”
The knots in her stomach rolled with grumbling anxiety. “I thanked you for your help this morning. I don’t appreciate having it thrown back in my face.”
“Your clothes—” He grabbed her neck with his right hand and with his hook at the base of her spine he yanked her close.
His mouth descended, claimed hers.
His anger slammed into her. She sucked in a breath, drawing in a flame of passion. It licked through her, whipping in slick tendrils that coiled around her veins. Soaking into her blood.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds.
He released her, stepped back. “You should rethink what you wear.”
Breathing heavy, her chest rising in painful pulls of oxygen, she stared.
“My…” The argument started out at a high and almost shrill decibel in her brain but came out as a squeak. She stopped herself and tried again. He’d kissed her to prove a point? She would prove one to him. “Desperation had that creep targeting me, not my outfit alone. There is nothing wrong or inappropriate about my wardrobe.”
“Except that the shortness of your skirt and the height of your shoes suggest you’re an easy target.”
“Along with thousands of other women. Your archaic and overbearing views blind you.” He started to speak, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Thank you for the rude interruption, but if you don’t mind I’d like to get back to my friend.”
“You need to be careful.”
“I was here first.”
“Convenient for you.”
“You are not convenient.”
“And you need to choose when to butt in and when not to a little better.” Without waiting for another response, she pivoted on the ball of her stiletto and returned to Dewayne. “Sorry about that.”
Dewayne waved off her apology. “Jealous ex?”
“Ha. No.” Just a stubborn man with a giant grudge. At least she hoped that’s all he was, because she didn’t need any more trouble.
“What happened to his hand?”
“I don’t know.” But curiosity and a nagging idea that he could be jealous had her seeking out Jace. He’d returned to a table in the corner and sat staring at her. She wanted to know more about him, like what compelled him to help a stranger, what made him so grumpy, how he lost his hand, and why he had kissed her.
Misty cocked her head with an I-am-going-to-figure-you-out-and-you-can’t-stop-me challenge ringing in her mind.
His stare locked with hers. His facial expression didn’t shift. His posture didn’t alter. Power rippled across the room as if dancing on an invisible chord tethered to her. Just as when she’d responded to his surprise kiss, tightness spread slow and suffusing along her throat and chest.
He’d read and accepted her challenge.
Caught up in the moment of awareness, twisted in the tingles of rightness, she fought to pull her gaze away and turn back to Dewayne. She didn’t know what they were talking about. Her focus was riveted on the man behind her across the room. More frequently than she wanted, her gaze sought him out in the mirror behind the bar.
Jace Nichols.
She should have noticed him during her first scan of the room, but hadn’t. She should be enjoying the safety of Dewayne’s unassuming company, but couldn’t. He lacked harsh opinions, was gentle in attitude and unwilling to tackle a confrontation. He was nothing like Jace and not remotely arousing.
