“No, I don’t think you murdered your… Tim.” He couldn’t bring himself to say husband; it rubbed him the wrong way every time he thought about her married to another man. “But the authorities are going to look into your relationship, and when they do…”
“They’re going to see a marriage in trouble,” she finished. “I wonder if they have hair stylists in prison?”
She lifted herself onto one of the bar stools, her robe dangerously close to giving him a peep show—not that he’d mind.
“You’re not going to jail, hence the lawyer idea. He’ll be better able to guide you through the interviews than if you go it alone.”
“But… I kind of thought you’d be there,” she murmured, her eyes glued to the pop can.
Aw, shit.
This is when being undercover sucked. He tossed his sandwich onto the plate, a sour taste in his mouth and an ache in the region of his chest. Damn heartburn.
“Tammy-Jo, look at me.” He waited until their gazes meshed. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, you have to know that,” he started. “But my job… it won’t allow me to be part of your investigation.” He lifted her hand from where it lay clenched on the counter and ran his thumb lightly back and forth over the knuckles. “I promise I’ll find out who’s behind this and send the son-of-a-bitch to jail, okay?”
“Who are you, Jason? Who do you work for?” She pulled away from his touch and leaned back on the stool, shapely legs crossed at the knee and her bare foot with tempting pink toes waving at him from below. The woman didn’t know how to keep shoes on—it was damn distracting. And that robe…
“Isn’t that the same robe you wore when we…?”
“No,” she cut him off, tightening the sash and making sure the edges were closed—which only served to show full breasts highlighted by the swirls of purple and gold in the silky material. “You must be thinking of another woman.” Her lips curled around the vowels as though she’d tasted a lemon. But a flush rose under the translucent skin of her neck. Interesting.
“Darlin’, when I’m looking at you, there are no other women.” He meant it too. Tammy-Jo lit up a room with her personality. She always had.
She placed her elbows on the counter, the wide sleeves sliding down to reveal slim, lightly tanned arms, and cupped her chin in her hands. “Don’t try sweet-talking your way out of answering my question, McIntyre. What are you doing in Magnolia and how did you just happen to be in the right place when I needed you? C’mon, spill.”
She was so freaking cute sitting there, the under-counter lighting creating a warm, intimate glow that seemed to envelope them in a world of their own. Except he knew better. He glanced overhead. They were in the viper’s den; it was just a matter of time before the fangs came out.
It would cause a rift between them if she knew the truth, so even though it went against the grain, he gave her the cover story and hoped like hell she’d forgive him later. “I’m a reporter. Those guys you met are my crew. We’re in town for the regatta.”
“That’s next weekend in Charleston,” she said, her gaze curious. “What made you become a reporter, of all things?”
She knew he’d been an introvert as a kid. Hard not to be when your father gets arrested for armed robbery and everyone looks at you like you’re next.
Jason shrugged. “It paid the bills. And I look great on camera.” He grinned, willing her to let it ride.
She snorted. “No ego left in your family, you got it all.” She took another sip of her drink before setting the can down and running a finger through the condensation, leaving a roadmap that led to the ache between his thighs.
He shifted and redirected his gaze to her face, but that was no help either. She had a drop of soda on her lip and just as he looked up her little pink tongue poked out between pearly white teeth and licked the moisture away.
Jason growled.
T.J.’s eyes grew wide, startled. She stilled, obviously sensing danger. Smart girl.
Slowly, careful not to scare her into flight, he moved in, eyes narrowed on the pulse he could see fluttering wildly on the side of her neck. Everything within him zeroed in on the scent of her; flowery and sweet and something uniquely Tammy-Jo. He leaned down, over her body, and placed his mouth on that one tiny spot, her life-force. It jumped against his lips, causing little sparks to jolt through his body. God, she was potent. He used his teeth and nibbled on her neck, working his way up to her jawline, and then using his hand to hold her in place, he did what he’d been wanting to do ever since he saw her striding across that yacht club floor.
He kissed the girl.
Maggie's Revenge Page 15
