by Rita Herron
And she would blame him if the police came for her.
* * *
Travis jerked Casey's arm and snarled, "I've been patient with you, Casey, but if you fight me, I'll make things ugly."
Casey tried not to gag at the sight of the man's smoke-stained teeth. "Get out of here, Travis. You're a known gambler. You don't have a chance."
The sharp edge of Travis' fingernails bit into Casey's wrist, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to show him the pain he caused. "I know things about you, lady, that I don't think you want everyone to know now you're this famous writer. Think parents would run and buy your books if they knew you were a thief?"
A sharp pain settled in Casey's chest.
Travis released a nasty chuckle. "I didn't think so." He shoved her arm away. "I'll be back in two days, bitch. Be ready to deal." Then he turned and strode down the sidewalk as if he'd already won the battle.
Casey shook with anger. Too bad she didn't have magical powers. She'd cast a spell and turn him into a piece of roadkill.
A dead skunk in the middle of the road. She remembered the old song and laughed. It was the only way she could keep from crying.
Ten minutes later, her date arrived.
Another disaster. Thirty minutes into the date, she decided that if she survived this one, she was going to murder Jenna for convincing her to place that stupid ad.
Delk might be a CPA, but he was a pervert with purple glasses and a big nose.
"Um, Delk, I don't think that's such a good idea," Casey said.
He ignored Casey's feeble protest and unfastened her sandal. Casey squirmed, uncomfortable with this man touching her feet, much less eyeing them as if he wanted to eat them for dinner. Not that she thought touching her feet meant a come-on. She'd actually never even considered the idea that feet could be sensual.
But obviously Delk had given it a lot of thought. In fact, he seemed obsessed with the idea of talking about her feet and toenails, and now here he was stripping off her shoes. Suddenly she felt violated. Feet were private, Casey decided. Especially toes.
"I think painted toenails are the most attractive part of a woman," Delk said, tracing a finger around each of her toes.
Casey choked back a laugh. "Really?" she said. "I've never thought that. I've always thought my feet were rather plain. Short and squatty looking."
Delk ran one thin finger down around her ankle, and Casey tensed. Maybe Gabe had been right in his article. Meeting people via the personal ads led to some scary dates.
Something about the way Delk looked at her made her feel like she had bugs crawling all over her skin. He wasn't ugly or cute either. Just tall and pencil thin. He wore his black hair short, cropped close to his ears and slicked back with some sort of gel that gave his hair a shine like EVO oil.
Dark, intense, intelligent eyes seemed to probe inside her, searching for the mysteries of her soul.
Either that or he was as high as a kite.
"Are you sure you don't want to take a walk? I think that's the best part of having feet," Casey said. Groaning inwardly at how stupid she sounded, she jerked her foot from his hand.
Dark springy ape-like hair covered his long arms and bushed up out of the opening of his shirt. The temptation to ask him to button it all the way to his neck screamed inside her head. Darwin's theory could be correct.
"Feet are good for swimming, too," Casey said, attempting to put her shoe back on.
Delk covered her hand with his. "No, Casey. I want to take off your other shoe and feel the arch of your foot in the palm of my hand. Then I'll know if we fit together."
Casey's stomach twisted. Experienced or not, fondling a stranger's feet bordered on psychotic. So far, their date had consisted of a backyard picnic with a six-pack of bottled water, wheat crackers served with goat cheese, and a conversation about feet that included everything except fungus.
"My friend has bunions," Casey said. "They're these big knots that come up on the sides of your feet. She had to have surgery. They have to cut right through the bone to remove them. She couldn't walk for six weeks."
Slipping his polished loafers off, Delk rolled his socks down, then extended his foot to Casey. "If you're shy, you can massage my feet first. I'm not shy at all."
Casey stared in horror at his monster feet. His shoes must be custom made. She spotted fur balls from his black socks wedged between his toes and his little toe looked purple, the nail completely gone. Were his toenails painted with clear polish?
"Do you know that some people consider toes the most sensitive of all the erogenous zones?" Delk wiggled his toes in front of Casey and slowly rubbed his foot across the calf of her leg. "Doesn't that feel good, Casey? Look, I brought lotion."
"I know this girl that lost her big toe in an accident," Casey said, averting her eyes from his feet and the bottle of honey-scented lotion. Even his toes were covered in dark hair. "And a girl in my grade school class had six toes." Delk's second toe extended at least an inch longer than his big toe. Was that a sign of intelligence or a deformity?
Delk palmed her foot and stroked the top, then circled underneath to her heel, speaking in a husky voice. "It's amazing the sensations that are stirred when someone sucks your toes." Wetting the tip of his finger with his tongue, he rubbed it between her big and second toe in what Casey assumed was supposed to be an erotic movement.
Casey suppressed a gag.
"I can show you. Just relax." Delk reached for her other foot, and Casey decided to give him a true taste of her toes.
Delk grunted, then toppled over after Casey kicked him in the mouth.
* * *
Toe sucking? What kind of nut was this guy? For five minutes, Gabe had stood and listened to the man talk about fondling Casey's feet. Now he wanted to suck Casey's toes?
No one was ever going to suck Casey's toes but him!
Halfway to Casey's house, he'd thought about calling, but his need to see her urged him to hurry over. He should have come sooner.
When he'd spotted the little Porsche convertible, he felt like he'd been punched. He'd told himself Casey had friends. She probably had a girlfriend visiting. But no, while he played detective trying to save her butt from jail, she was lounging in her backyard playing footsie with another man.
Fury swept through him, and he ducked underneath the clothesline strung across her yard, dodging the wet paintings of footprints dangling in the breeze. One of the pictures looked like Henry S. Another one resembled Dog's. He barreled around the corner and crashed right into Casey.
They bounced off one another and yelped at the same time.
"What are you doing here?" Casey cried.
Gabe had heard most of Casey's comebacks to the guy and knew she hadn't led the guy on. The toe sucking had definitely been a one-sided invitation. She'd sounded nervous and wary, and looked even more so now.
Her gaze settled on him, then flew across her shoulder as if she expected the toe sucker to follow her. Judging from her mutinous expression, she wanted to kill the guy and anyone else in her path.
He backed away, realizing he stood on unsteady ground. "I came to see you," Gabe said, forcing the anger from his voice.
After all, Casey had no idea she'd become a suspect in a crime, much less that he was trying to clear her name.
"Don't you ever call?" Casey asked.
"Casey, wait." The toe sucker sauntered around the corner, rubbing a hand over his reddened lip. "Why did you kick me?"
Gabe itched to tape the man's mouth shut. "I think you'd better leave," he said through clenched teeth.
"Who are you?" Delk asked.
"Casey's lover," Gabe said.
Casey crossed her arms, her look icy. "How dare you? I haven't heard from you all week...."
Delk threw up his hands as he looked back and forth between them. "Hey, I'm not getting in the middle of a lover's quarrel. You should have told me you had a boyfriend already."
Casey opened her mouth to deny the boyfriend p
art, but the man stalked toward the driveway.
"Wait a minute," Casey shouted, "he's not..."
Gabe silenced Casey's words the only way he knew how. He covered her mouth with his own and pulled her against him, punishing her with his jealousy, ravaging her mouth with his desire. Casey melted in his arms, kissing him back with a fervor that spiked his blood. He reveled in her passionate response, aching for more. But too much still stood between them; her secrets. His.
Guilt kicked in, and he forced himself to end the kiss, but he wanted to leave her with promises to come so he deepened the kiss for a long moment before he pulled away. Then he stroked Casey's back and pressed her face into his chest and held her, drinking in the wonderful scent of peaches wafting from her hair as their breathing slowly returned to normal.
"Why did you tell him that?" Casey whispered. Her sultry voice filled Gabe with more heat and hope.
"Because I wanted him to leave." Gabe caressed her face and throat with his lips, threading his hands into her hair, fingering the delicate strands. "And because I want to be your lover."
"Gabe." Casey buried her face against his chest.
He crushed her in his embrace. "Yes?"
"I planned to ask him to leave myself. You didn't have to interfere."
Gabe pulled back and looked into her eyes, his heart racing. She'd completely ignored his last comment. "Why did you accept a date with him in the first place?"
She tensed at his angry voice, but he refused to release her. Instead, he wound a handful of her hair around his fingers and brought it to his cheek, brushing it across his skin, savoring the fragrance.
"The same reason I placed the ad," Casey whispered.
"Why was that?" Gabe caught her gaze and held it, mesmerized by the vulnerability in her expressive eyes. She couldn't be guilty.
Casey glanced down at his shirt, concentrating on a button she began twisting in circles. "I wanted a date for my awards dinner. It's in my hometown...."
"What awards dinner?"
Casey chewed her bottom lip. "It's for my book."
"You won an award? That's great, Casey. When is the dinner?"
"Next Saturday."
"You have a date, sweetheart. I'm taking you."
"But..."
Gabe ended her protests with another kiss. "Don't argue. You are not accepting another date with any more motorcycle maniacs or toe-sucking leeches."
Casey laughed, her eyes widening at his possessive tone. "That sounds slightly like an order."
Gabe kissed her again, but his voice grew husky, his tongue wedging her lips apart. "It is."
"What if I said I don't take orders from men?"
He nuzzled her neck. "Then consider it a request."
She sighed softly. "All right. That sounds better." A hint of mischief lit her eyes as she looped her arms around his neck. "You know your nostrils flare when you get really angry."
"They do not." Gabe pinned her with a formidable stare then swept his tongue across her lips again.
Casey curled into him. "Yes, they do. Especially when you shout. See, they're doing it now." She ran her fingers through the long hair at the base of his neck.
A smile twitched at the corner of Gabe's lips, and desire t thrummed through him. "The only time I raised my voice was when Henry S. and I were practicing our Tarzan bellows. If I remember correctly, sweetheart, you weren't looking at my nose."
Crimson stained Casey's cheeks. "I wasn't talking about that, Gabe. I was talking about when you get mad."
Gabe chuckled, then trailed kisses down her jaw. "Okay, if my nostrils flare, then your pupils dilate."
"They do not."
"Do, too."
"Do not."
Casey and Gabe both burst into laughter.
But a second later, his laughter died as he tightened his arms around her. "You don't want to see that guy again, do you?"
Casey shook her head, once again studying the buttons on his shirt. "To tell you the truth, he gave me the creeps."
"Good." Gabe hugged Casey against him.
"Why didn't you call?" Casey asked.
Vulnerability shadowed her words, making Gabe wonder who had hurt her. Had she dated this guy because she didn't expect him to call? Because she still didn't trust him?
"I sent the gifts, Casey. I thought..."
Casey fiddled with the button at the top of his shirt now. Gabe tensed, wishing she would unbutton it. He ached to feel her hands across his bare chest.
Sweet heavens, he ached to feel his hands across her bare chest.
"You thought what?" Casey whispered.
What did he think? That Casey would sit at home and pine for him? If he explained the situation, maybe she would believe his sincerity. But if he told her the truth, she might not understand at all.
"I don't know what you want, Gabe. Or what you expect."
The quiver in her voice tugged at his heart, and Gabe dropped his forehead against hers. Her scent enveloped him, charging his arousal, but he sensed that Casey needed time so he kept his hands firmly around her waist.
She was such a small thing, all feisty and full of life, but as vulnerable and frightened as a tiny kitten. The urge to protect her from any hurt overpowered his own needs. "I don't expect anything, Casey. I just want to know that you'll give me a chance. Right now, I'm in the middle of something really important."
"A story?"
"Yeah, an investigation. It's taking a lot of my time. I wish I could tell you about it, but I can't. Not yet, anyway." When the real thief had been caught, he'd confess everything. Secrets didn't belong in a relationship, and he wanted a relationship with Casey. His body craved her, but his heart yearned for her as well.
"I understand that you're busy."
"I am, but that doesn't mean I'm not thinking about you. You're on my mind all the time."
"I am?"
"Yes, dammit, you are," he admitted gruffly.
Casey sighed against him, a sultry sound that fueled his hunger. "Good, because I can't stop thinking about you either."
"Thank God. Now I want you to promise me something." He brushed her hair back and kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear.
Casey smiled and snuggled into his embrace. "What?"
"That you'll try to trust me. I'll probably be busy for the next few days, and we may not get to talk, but promise me you won't go out with any more bozos."
Casey sighed again. "I promise."
"And I will be here next Saturday to escort you to your awards dinner."
"All right."
Even as she agreed though, a strange expression flickered in her eyes, and Gabe wondered about the path of her thoughts. She was holding back from him, hiding secrets. He was sure of it.
If this creep, Travis was threatening her, why wouldn't she tell him or go to the police? And if she was involved...
He refused to let himself continue down that road.
There had to be a logical explanation, and he would find it.
Pushing his reservations to the back of his mind, he hugged her to him. He needed time for their relationship to grow.
He just hoped that when their secrets were revealed, she could forgive him for the lies.
Chapter 7
Gabe forgot about secrets as Casey's breasts pressed against his chest.
Her fingers curled into his hair.
He tightened the embrace.
She fit him perfectly.
Perspiration dotted his neck and his breathing came in erratic spurts as he imagined her legs wrapped around him. Calm, cool, and collected. The words darted through his mind, conjuring up an old deodorant commercial, and he wondered which brand of deodorant had been advertised. He certainly needed to find the brand because with Casey in his arms, he felt anything but calm, cool, and collected. His blood pressure would probably register off the charts.
"Gabe, we... we can't do this," Casey whispered. When her warm breath feathered against his neck, primal urges danced throug
h him.
He looked into her eyes and saw uncertainty—and something akin to fear. Tightening his arms around her waist, he struggled for control. "I know," he said softly. Hadn't he promised himself he would wait until after the investigation was over?
Why couldn't he let her go? The question echoed through his mind. Casey had a way of making him forget everything. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."
She laid her head against his chest, and Gabe's heart pounded at the way she relaxed into his arms. Getting Casey to trust him meant almost as much as getting her in bed. No, Gabe decided. It meant more.
The phone rang, interrupting the moment, and Casey rushed to answer it. He leaned against the door, pretending he wasn't interested in the call, but a deep frown marred her lovely face, and his instincts automatically kicked in.
"No. Don't call me again," Casey said in a hushed voice. "Just leave me alone, Travis." She hung up the phone and turned to him with a strained smile.
"Who was that?" Gabe asked.
Casey's hands knotted by her side. "Uh, just one of those overzealous salesmen."
She was lying. Gabe gritted his teeth, tempted to shake her. Travis Satterfield had been threatening her on the other line.
He needed time to figure out why.
"Listen, I dropped by hoping I could take you and Henry S. to a Braves game," he said. At least in public, he'd have to control himself. He'd had the tickets for two months and hadn't planned to go, but it seemed like a safe place to be with Casey, so he'd charged over here uninvited. How romantic could a crowded stadium be?
Casey folded her arms. "You mean you have Braves tickets and we're standing here talking and kissing? Why in heaven's name didn't you say something before? I love baseball!"
Gabe laughed. He should have known. Casey might not be calm, sedate, and orderly, but she spoke volumes for the American woman—baseball, apple pie and—what was that third one? Sex appeal?
"Henry S. is at Jenna's," Casey said. "Are you sure you want to take him?"
No, he wasn't sure. If he told Casey what he really wanted to do, it would knock her socks right off, except she wasn't wearing any socks. For that matter, she wasn't wearing any shoes. No wonder the foot fetish guy had been so turned on.
