by Lori Foster
She stewed in her own thoughts. “As much as you get around, is it possible one of your . . . lady friends has a disgruntled husband—”
“No.”
“—or boyfriend or—”
“I don’t poach,” he told her, dead serious.
Skepticism lifted her brows. “Ever?”
Insulted that she had to ask, Hart scowled at her. “I do not poach. Period. If she’s involved in any way, that’s a big red flag. And besides, I told you I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
Tapping her fingernails on the tabletop, Lisa studied him, and finally said, “Knowing you, that’s just a little hard to believe.”
“You should try living it.” He made a face. Celibacy was not a sport he enjoyed. “But it’s still true.”
“If you say so.”
Umbrage rose. “You don’t believe me?”
She tried a laugh that sounded flat to him. “It’s been weeks since we were together.”
As if he didn’t know that. “All right, let’s get something straight, okay?”
She checked the clock, shrugged. “Shoot.”
Her disinterest in his irritation irked him all the more. “I do not lie.” He stood from his seat and went to hers. “I admit I have more than enough faults for one man, but lying isn’t one of them.”
“Fine. Don’t get your feathers ruffled.”
His teeth ground together. “No, it’s not fine.” Knowing she was only placating him, Hart braced his hands on her chair seat, at either side of her hips. The position put him nose to nose with her. “I told you up-front that I wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship, right? I didn’t lie then, and I’m not lying now. If I wasn’t doing without, I sure as hell would admit it.”
Emotions flashed over her face, starting with intimidation, then awareness, and ending with anger. “Back off.”
In direct contrast to her expression, her voice was small, breathless. When he straightened away from her, she drew in a shaky breath.
“Lisa?”
Slowly, she licked her lips, closed her eyes a moment, then opened them again. “I believe you.”
Hell, seeing her all flushed and breathless had wiped his brain clean of everything but desire. He forgot what they were talking about. “You do?”
“You were celibate. Goody for you.”
“Let’s don’t go overboard, okay?”
She gave him a look—and this time it was her phone that rang. “Excuse me.”
Hart listened in as she picked up a receiver in the kitchen and spoke quietly for a few minutes. Apparently someone had a dental emergency, which meant his time with her was about to be cut short.
Sure enough, as soon as she hung up, she began hustling him out of the kitchen. “I need to go to the office.”
“Everything okay?”
Impatient to be on her way, she rushed through an explanation. “One of my patients, a young man, fell and broke a front tooth.”
“Ouch.” He opened the front door, but didn’t step out. “We need to finish discussing this.”
“The rest of my Saturday is taken.”
She’d said that a little too fast. “Are you free tomorrow morning, then?”
Her sleek brown hair bounced as she shook her head. “Tomorrow is fine, but I like to jog on the weekends, so I prefer later in the day.”
“Let’s plan on lunch, then. I can pick you up at noon.” When she hesitated, he lowered his voice and said, “Or would you prefer we stay here, at your apartment?”
“No, a restaurant is fine. But I’ll meet you there.”
“Because?”
Her brows leveled out. “I prefer to have my own car handy.”
In case she decided to run out on him, probably. But he could live with that. “Not a problem.” He named a restaurant convenient for both of them, and then, before she could guess his intent, he leaned in and kissed her.
He’d meant for it to be no more than a quick good-bye peck. But she froze, so he didn’t pull away, and the touch of their mouths lingered, grew heated. Hart inched closer to her; she didn’t object.
He turned his head just a little; her lips parted.
Breath hitching, he slowly took hold of her shoulders and drew her to his body. He felt no resistance at all, only giving and excitement and astounding heat.
Silly woman. Their one night would now just be the first of many.
Rather than press his luck, Hart gently pulled back. Her eyes were still shut, and a pulse raced in her throat. He had to kiss that, too, and in the process of tasting her soft skin, he inhaled the sweet scent of her.
“Tomorrow, Lisa.” When he touched her cheek, her thick lashes fluttered up, showing her dazed eyes. “I’m looking forward to it.” Right before he turned away, Hart saw her gaze sharpen with fresh understanding of what had just happened.
The door slammed behind him, but it didn’t diminish his grin. Now he knew he would definitely get her under him again, and he could hardly wait. But when it happened, he’d damn straight leave on the lights—and he’d see everything.
Dressed in her stuffiest clothes, her ugliest “sensible” shoes, and with her hair in a severe twist at the back of her head, Lisa stared at the entrance to the restaurant. On a hot Sunday afternoon there was no real reason for her to wear the very plain beige suit jacket and skirt with a buttoned-up white blouse, complete with a collar that tied shut, except that she wanted all the armor she could get between herself and Hart Winston’s irresistible appeal.
The man had already proven how quickly her weak defenses crumbled when he turned on the charm. If she wanted to survive this newest encounter, she had to come prepared.
Clutch purse held under her elbow, Lisa straightened her jacket and headed into the restaurant, hoping to be seated before he arrived. But to her dismay, she’d gotten no more than a few steps inside before she spotted not only Hart, but another large, impressive male at the table with him.
Heavens. Her jaw loosened, her eyes widened, and she stood there as the air-conditioned air that should have cooled her didn’t.
The guy with Hart looked . . . dangerous—in a very sexy way. He was older than Hart, probably by two decades, but that didn’t lessen his impact at all. Even sitting, she could tell that he stood well over six feet tall and was rock-solid. Inky blue-black hair showed only faint traces of silver at his temples. When he pulled at his ear, Lisa noticed a small gold hoop.
Suddenly, maybe because of her stare, he turned to look at her, and she got ensnared in flinty, dark blue eyes heavily fringed with black lashes.
Lord have mercy.
The man nudged Hart, and they both pushed back their chairs as if in preparation for her joining them.
Only her feet wouldn’t move. She did, however, get her mouth shut. How embarrassing.
Rallying herself, Lisa straightened her glasses, chided Hart with a frown, and made her way to the table. Taking the initiative, she said to Hart, “You could have told me you were bringing a guest.”
He cleared his throat. “I, ah . . .”
Lisa looked at him again, and her eyes flared. “You’re not Hart.”
One brow lifted. “You sure?”
“Well, of course I’m sure.” She snorted, embarrassing herself again, then held out a hand. “You must be the twin he mentioned.”
Her hand got engulfed as the brother treated her to a broad smile that was gorgeous, but not quite as cocky as Hart’s. “Dexter. And you must be Lisa.”
“Nice to meet you, Dexter. My, but you’re almost the spitting image of your brother, aren’t you?”
“Or vice versa.” He gestured to the big fellow next to him. “This is our cousin Joe Winston.”
Flustered all over again, Lisa girded herself and faced the big man. Along with that edge of menace, he oozed raw sex appeal.
Was this what Har
t would look like in his prime? If so, then God save her, because he’d be even more devastating in his midforties than he was in his late twenties.
Fashioning a smile out of her stiff lips, Lisa said, “Hello, Mr. Winston.”
“Damn, now I do feel old.” He used her proffered hand as a leash and hauled her in close to brush a warm kiss to the cheek. “Just call me Joe.”
A swoon threatened.
And then Dexter laughed. “No reason to blush. Joe has that effect on everyone, even his wife, who you’d think would be used to him by now.” Dex held out her chair.
Before her legs gave out, Lisa sat.
As the men took their seats, Dex asked, “How did you know?”
She raised a brow in query.
“That I’m not Hart, I mean.”
“Oh.” Lisa shrugged. “You’re not Hart, that’s all. There are differences.”
Joe smirked. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“What differences?” Dex wanted to know.
She had to give it some thought, and admitted, “It’s subtle. But Hart has some singular expressions, a certain air about him, and he holds himself differently, with more negligence.” She looked around. “Where is Hart, anyway?”
With a toss of his head, Joe indicated the back of the restaurant. Lisa saw Hart making his way to their table.
“Sorry,” he said. “I had to take a call, and I couldn’t hear up here.”
A call from a woman? Lisa did her best to hide her reaction to that, but she did say, “This better not have been a test, Hart Winston.”
“Or what?” He raked his gaze over her, frowning at the neat bow tied at her throat, and dropped into his seat. “What’s with the matronly duds again? Is that your idea of a chastity belt?”
Everyone froze. Lisa gave serious consideration to throwing a glass of water in his face.
Joe chuckled. “Thus, one of the differences. You see, Dex has some class. Hart—nada.”
“I have class,” Hart argued.
Dex rolled his eyes. “A weight class, but that’s about it.” He slugged his brother in the shoulder. “You just insulted the lady, you idiot, in front of your family.”
Hart looked at her, his blue eyes smoldering, his mouth curving into a grin. “Ah, sweetheart, did I? Insult you, I mean?”
For answer, she fried him with a look.
A waiter came for their drink orders, breaking the icy tension. Dex asked for a cola, Hart kept his water, and Joe requested coffee. Lisa declined anything, determined to keep this visit as short as possible. Whatever bug had gotten to Hart’s butt, she wouldn’t put up with him by extending this visit any more than necessary.
Laying her napkin on the table, Lisa turned to Joe. “You’re here as added counsel about the attack planned against Hart?”
“My specialty,” Joe concurred.
A curious statement, but Lisa didn’t question him. She wanted only to finish this and be on her way. “A week or more before I contacted you, I was at a bar in town—”
“With who?” Hart asked.
Lisa paused, considered several cutting replies, and chose instead to ignore him. “I was sitting somewhat in the corner, and next to me, at another table, were two men. They were conversing very quietly, but when I heard Hart’s name, I started to listen. Not that I normally engage in eavesdropping, of course.”
Dex said, “Of course not.”
Hart slid down in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest in a sign of disgruntlement.
Joe gave him a sideways glance, hid a smile, and said, “Go on. I’m listening.”
“The men said that Hart was an obnoxious ass—or words to that effect—and though I agreed, they spoke with a certain vitriol that alarmed me.”
Hart nudged Dex, saying, “She speaks like you write.”
They all continued to ignore him.
“The men agreed that Hart needed to be taken down a peg or two, and they decided the best way to accomplish that would be to ensure he wouldn’t win, rather than leave it to the judges.” Lisa frowned as she recalled the conversation. “At the time I didn’t understand what they meant by that, but they didn’t appear inebriated, so I took the threat seriously.”
“He has a fight coming up,” Joe said. “A big one, sort of his major debut as an SBC contender. Maybe his popularity was a little quick for some to like it.”
“Did the men look like fighters?” Dex asked.
“I don’t know what a fighter looks like,” Lisa told them. “I certainly never suspected that Hart, who I knew only as a painter, would engage in such a thing. But I’d recognize the men if I saw them again.”
“I have an idea on that,” Joe confided. “But first, let me hear the rest.”
Lisa nodded. “One of the men, the more muscular of the two, said that he could arrange for a ‘skirt’ to get Hart alone.”
“A woman,” Dex said.
“I took the derogatory comment to mean that, yes.” Lisa frowned at Hart, and he gave her a look that asked, What did I do?
She shook her head. “And then he—the other man—said he would hit Hart in the leg, or perhaps the arm, with the intent of disabling him. I believe a baseball bat was mentioned as the weapon of choice.”
Hart winced. “Damn. My leg?”
Dex frowned in worry.
“He said that with a busted elbow or knee, Hart wouldn’t be able to fight for a while, but that it’d look like a mugging, not anything more.” She glanced at Hart. “The other fellow suggested that perhaps it’d be prudent to take out both the knee and the elbow, just for good measure.”
Joe sat back. “It almost has to be someone in your weight class hoping to scale down the competition.”
“Thinking back, I agree.” Lisa mused over the comments. “There was a ring of jealousy, and I believe that with Hart out of the running, the man thought he’d have a better chance of ‘walking through’ his weight class.”
“I thought they all liked me,” Hart murmured, clearly disturbed by the deviousness.
Lisa almost felt sorry for him. But not enough to offer genuine sympathy, not after that crude comment he’d made on her attire—true as it might have been.
The comment had been especially stinging since she’d struggled with wanting to dress sexier for him, to see his appreciation again. But she was not a stupid woman, and saw no reason to prod his interest.
She turned to Joe Winston for a distraction. “So how do you play in this? Are you a police officer or something?”
Joe grinned. “Nah. I run a casual resort on a lake with my wife and kids.”
Dex laughed. “Don’t let Joe fool you. He’s been everything from a bounty hunter to a private eye and a bodyguard. He has unique skills that come in handy in situations like this.”
“Meaning he thinks as ruthlessly as the criminals do,” Hart pointed out. “Until he met Luna and settled down into marital bliss, he was a real hell-raiser.”
“Still is,” Dex said, “when the situation calls for raising some hell.”
But Lisa barely heard Dex. Staring at Hart, she said, “You believe in marital bliss?”
Lounging back in his chair, fingers laced over his stomach, Hart treated her to a slow, knowing smile. “I’ll have to introduce you to my other cousins. They’ve all settled down and started families, and they’re the happiest bunch of ex-bachelors you’d ever want to meet.”
Joe bobbed his eyebrows suggestively. “Very happy.” He nodded across the table. “Old Dex here will be tying the knot soon enough too.”
Amazing. Lisa forced her gaze away from Hart to his brother. “You’re engaged?”
“Funny story,” Dex said, “but I met the right woman while pretending to be Hart. Talk about awkward . . .”
The men all laughed over some inside joke.
Fascinated, Lisa wondered how in the world
Dex ever managed such subterfuge. The differences between the two men, in her mind, were quite noticeable. “How did you fool her?”
Hart perked up at that, but before he could say anything, the waiter returned with their drinks. When he asked for their orders, Joe told him to give them a little more time.
As soon as he was gone, Dex leaned forward to share the story with Lisa. “Hart wanted some private time to train without the family knowing, so I moved into his place, and just claimed to be him. No one suspected a thing—except Christy. She picked up on differences right off.”
“I’m sure she did.”
Hart looked between them with heightened awareness.
Dex slanted a look at his brother. “She barely knew Hart, and what she did know, she didn’t like all that much.”
Lisa grinned.
“When I behaved differently from Hart, it confused her.”
“Especially his pursuit of her,” Hart pointed out, “given that I’d made a point not to get too friendly with any of the women in my apartment complex.”
“I think when she found out the truth, she was more relieved than anything.” Dex smiled. “She forgave me, and finally started calling me by my name, instead of Hart’s.”
Lisa could only imagine how uncomfortable that had to have been for both of them. “But you were truly able to fool her?”
Dex shrugged. “You had the advantage of already knowing that Hart had a twin brother.”
Brows drawn in confusion, Hart leaned forward, saying to his brother, “Did she—”
“She did,” Joe told him.
Hart stared at her. “You knew he wasn’t me?”
She rolled her eyes. “As soon as I approached the table, yes.”
“How?”
Lisa gave him a long look, considered explaining, but then narrowed her eyes instead. “I’m really not talking to you right now.”
Affront straightened his back. “What the hell did I do?”
Dex elbowed him before saying, “Christy is planning the wedding, but in the meantime, she lives with me instead of next door to my brother.”
