by Qwillia Rain
Dane pushed through the swinging doors and came to a sudden halt inside the kitchen, deciding to proceed carefully. To say the man with his arm around Ariel was scary was an understatement. Even seated, the man towered over Ariel, and from the size of him, Dane doubted he could take the man in a fight should it become necessary. Advancing cautiously, he stepped toward the pair.
“All locked up.” Ariel and the man swung around to face him.
Dark sherry brown eyes measured him with every step closer he took, but the other man remained seated. Dane assumed this was the “Grimm” DeeDee had mentioned before she and Sadie left.
“Thanks.” Setting down the container she held, Ariel turned back to face him. “Grimm, this is Dane Reese. Dane, Grimm Dawson.”
Dane extended his hand and watched the other man's huge fist swallow it. Amusement more than fear brought a grin to Dane's face. “I have to say, other than the grim reaper and some rock-and-roll-band members, I've never heard of someone named Grimm.”
White teeth glinted against full lips as the other man returned his grin. “Named for my mama's side of the family, Grimmsby.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Dane offered.
Grimm eased his hold on Dane's hand. “Likewise.”
Over the other man's shoulder, Dane watched Ariel assemble a thick sandwich, slice it, and put it on a paper plate. She smiled when she set it in front of Grimm. “Go ahead and eat up, Grimm.”
She cleaned up the containers and carried them back to the refrigerator. From inside the space, the scrape of plastic over metal, then a soft oomph had both men on their feet and moving forward. Dane reached her first and eased the big green plastic tub from Ariel's grip. It wasn't particularly heavy, but the size made it awkward for a person of her diminutive height.
“We've had a few slow days, so there are quite a few leftovers,” Ariel pointed out before she motioned Dane to set the case down near Grimm. “There's about half a dozen cinnamon rolls left over from this morning that didn't sell, and some cookies, cupcakes, and pastries from yesterday.”
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Dane stood aside and marveled at how easily the lies tripped off Ariel's tongue. The leftover items she had listed weren't from this morning or any morning. Not three hours ago he'd seen her mix up the cookies and then bake the cinnamon rolls and cupcakes that had gone into the green tub. When Sadie had mentioned a customer was interested in a roll to go, Ariel had told her they were a special order.
“I do appreciate it, Miss Ariel. And the men do too,” Grimm assured her. He finished the last of his sandwich and carried the paper plate to one of the recycling bins.
“I'm happy to help in any way, you know that. How many do you have at the house now?”
“Deacon left last week to go back home, so there's only six right now.” Grimm hefted the container and strode toward the door. “I'll be on my way and leave you two to finish what you were working on.”
Dane's “thank you” tangled up with Ariel's “oh we weren't doing anything important” and drew Grimm's attention. He stopped and turned to face Ariel and Dane. His expression shifted from concern to confusion and, finally, to amusement.
“We were discussing the supply order,” Dane reminded Ariel. He suspected she would try to avoid him, but he wasn't sure how she would accomplish it. Not when she'd been so determined to change his mind about one of the suppliers he'd ordered from.
She waved her hand and shrugged. “I can take care of that later. I think I'll go with Grimm and make sure there's enough for everyone.”
Dane could tell by Grimm's surprised look that it was unusual for Ariel to accompany him, but the big man didn't voice a protest.
“We really ought to discuss the order, Ariel,” Dane reminded her. He slid his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. Whether to drag her to his side or throttle her, he wasn't sure. Having Ariel dismiss his directions grated. His reaction to her behavior was equally disturbing. He fought to suppress the possessive declaration— mine—that rose in his throat.
Never in any of his relationships had he felt inclined to stake a claim on a woman and warn off other men. Why did he suddenly feel it was essential he do so with her?
Was it because she was so at ease with Grimm but not with him? Or was it her eagerness to be with the other man that set Dane's teeth on edge?
“I'm perfectly capable of submitting the order myself, Dane. Why don't you head on home, and I'll be back in an hour or so to finish up the order.” She turned to Grimm and smiled. “Let me go get my backpack, and I'll be right with you.”
Dane didn't bother to say anything as Grimm nodded and exited through the back door.
Instead he followed Ariel into the office and blocked her path. “You can't wander off with him, Ariel.”
“Excuse me?” She shifted her backpack over her left shoulder and faced him.
“Do you even know where he's going? What he's doing here, besides begging for food?”
Dane wasn't surprised at her defensive posture. Hell, the assumptions he'd made would have his back up if someone had said the same to him. If he pressed the issue, it would only create more tension between them, and that was damned tiresome. He wished she would simply see reason and recognize the advice he offered was a means of protecting her. Even he doubted his actions were wholly altruistic. He realized the fact that she wanted to be with the other man was what truly grated on his nerves.
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“Who are you to tell me what I will and will not do?” She poked a blunt-tipped finger in his chest, emphasizing her irritation with every word. “I've known Grimm a hell of a lot longer than I've known you.”
“We have work to get done here.” Perhaps the reminder would get through to her. Not that he'd get much work done if she were around, but at least he would know where she was and that she was safe. Again the niggling voice in the back of his head issued warnings, but Dane disregarded the notion that his interest was directly associated with the attraction building since they'd argued over the sandwich the day before.
“And I told you I will take care of it when I get back.” Pushing past him, she headed for the door.
Dane grabbed her wrist and halted her exit. “I don't think you should go with him.”
“You aren't my father or my keeper, Dane. You don't get a vote.” She glared at him.
“Your sister put me in charge—”
“Of the books, not me. I'm a big girl. I don't need you to tell me what to do or whom to go with.” She pulled free and left.
Dane followed her to the door and watched her climb into the red crew-cab pickup parked in the alley between the café and the bookstore in the next row of buildings. The hydraulic hinge prevented him from slamming the door, and the urge to punch a wall sorely tested his training as a dominant. Damned woman won't listen to reason. She'll do anything to flout my instructions.
My authority. Can't even accept that I only want to look out for the welfare of the restaurant. A snort of disgust echoed in the quiet kitchen. “Yeah, I believe that like I have a great bridge I'd part with in Brooklyn,” Dane growled, admitting he carried more than a bit of resentment over Ariel's unflinching trust in Grimm.
“If she thinks for one minute I'll walk off and leave the café without making sure she's safe…” He strode out of the kitchen and into the office, then booted up the computer. Once he logged on to the Internet, his fingers flew over the keyboard. “Dawson, Grimmsby. Can't be many people with that name.”
The orders were set aside as he gathered information. With each new detail Dane gleaned, his anger built as he identified the man with whom Ariel had driven off. The smart-mouthed little termagant was suspicious and interfered in every transaction he conducted, but she waltzed off without a care with a man like Dawson? Did she have some kind of death wish? Or maybe she considered herself impervious to the same dangers that plagued the rest of the mortals aro
und her.
By the time he had read through the final article he'd found about Grimm, Dane was more than ready to do battle. He'd show his annoying little pixie the error of her ways. The second she returned.
* * *
Ariel unlocked the café door and stepped toward the alarm keypad to punch in the code.
With her fingers poised over the numbers, it took a moment for her to realize it hadn't been set.
She stepped to the door, opened it, and waved at Grimm to assure him all was fine. She watched her friend drive off and then relocked the door. There were only two reasons the alarm wouldn't have been set. First Dane may have forgotten to set it before he left. Doubtful, since the bastard 32
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was such a stickler for rules and schedules. Ariel shook her head and shrugged her backpack onto her left shoulder.
Second option, he was still here. Which would mean the row that had begun to brew when she walked out was about to be finished. The light from the office spilled into the hallway and supported her theory that Dane waited for her.
“I knew I should have gone home,” she grumbled, stepping into the office and grimacing at the sight of Dane seated behind the desk.
“I would have merely gone there.”
“I told you I'd get the order done when I got back.” She dropped her backpack next to the leather sofa and settled onto one of the cushions.
“Already taken care of,” Dane informed her. Leaning back in the chair, he watched her.
“Okay”—she reached over and grabbed her pack—“I'll head on—”
“Stay.” He barked out the command and rose from the chair.
Ariel ignored it as she let loose her pack and rose to square off with him. “I'm not a pet—”
He overrode her protest. “You should explain to me why you felt it necessary to ignore my advice to go off with Grimm.”
“I don't have to explain anything to you.”
“The hell you don't. He's a convicted felon, Ariel.” Dane stepped closer, his tone quiet and resolute. “Did you know that? Did you know he did seven years for assault?”
“Been doing a little Web surfing, Dane?” She propped her hands on her hips and stuck her chin out at him. “Did you bother to find out why he committed the assault? Did you bother to find out that while in prison, he completed a bachelor's degree in psychology and master's in drug-addiction counseling?”
“And that he runs a halfway house on the other side of town,” Dane finished for her.
“I was perfectly safe.”
“But it wasn't necessary for you to be there at all, Ariel. I could tell by his reaction that you don't go with him to deliver the food.”
Ariel shrugged. “So I felt like going. Like I told you earlier, you aren't my father or my keeper—”
“And I told you I am. I promised your sister I'd keep an eye out for you.”
Ariel glared up at him; her finger jabbed his chest to stress each point. “No, you promised my sister to help out with the finances here, not to babysit me.”
“Since it's your cooking ability that draws the customers in, I'm living up to my duties by telling you not to go off with men like that again.”
“You don't own me. And you don't tell me what to do.” Again Ariel emphasized her response with repeated pokes against his chest.
Dane's hand rose and gripped hers to stop the prodding. He tugged her forward. “You better watch it, little girl.” His voice was low, almost cold. His face revealed no expression.
Ariel discounted it. “Oh really,” she mocked.
“Umm hmmm. That mouth of yours is writing checks that you can't make good on.”
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The heat of his gaze warned her, but Ariel ignored it. Bound and determined to make him submit, to knuckle under and assume his rightful place beneath her, she met his glare with one of her own. “And you think you can try to collect?” She tried to tug her right hand free, but his grip was too strong. The first twinge of unease slithered along her spine.
His free hand cupped her chin, making it impossible to turn away. Warmth emanated from his fingertips and palm, but it didn't dispel the chill that crept through her. Ariel refused to cringe, to give in to the urge to put as much distance between her and Dane as the office would allow.
“Most definitely,” he assured her.
Ariel started to snap a scathing response, but the sound was lost in the confines of his mouth. His lips captured hers, rubbed and pressed against them as his tongue delved inside to stroke over hers. The hand holding one of hers resettled so her captured hand pressed between her back and his hand. He pulled her snugly to his sinewy frame, while the fingers gripping her chin eased away and speared through the short blue strands of her hair.
The scent of his body infused every breath she dragged in through her nose. The slide and plunge of his tongue coaxed a response from her body that sent silent curses through her brain.
The tips of her breasts throbbed, nipples drawn tight and sensitive to the scrape of the silk-and-lace cups holding them.
The fire in her pussy increased to an intense yearning; it spilled her arousal and soaked her panties. As if he sensed her desire, Dane slid his thick, muscled thigh between hers, stroking and caressing her center. Her free hand reached up to grip his shoulder and pulled him closer so she could soothe the ache in her breasts with the force of his firm chest against hers.
He felt so good. Her body rocked upward into his. The heat emanating from him seeped deep into her core. Her hand moved from his shoulder to the soft curls over his ear, threading through them to keep his mouth sealed to hers. The smell of cardamom and rosemary filled her senses. It twisted the longing tight and heightened her arousal. Her head spun with the sensations, feelings she'd never dealt with, even in the few brief encounters when she'd made love with her college boyfriend. Her heart thundered in her chest; her tongue tangled and played with Dane's, each of them attempting to stake their claim to who was in charge.
Desperate for breath but unwilling to release him, Ariel shifted and strained to get closer.
As if he sensed her surrender, Dane pulled away. He tugged her fingers from his hair. In quick, efficient motions, he settled her onto the couch and stepped away from her. No emotion showed on his face. Where Ariel's body shuddered to maintain a modicum of restraint, Dane looked as if he'd just stepped out of his office to greet a client. He straightened his slightly mussed curls with a flick of his hand, removing the only evidence of their kiss.
“Don't test me again, Ariel. You may end up with more than you bargained for,” Dane warned her and then stepped out of the office.
As she gasped for breath and tried to regain some semblance of control, Ariel listened to his soft footfalls as he stalked through the café and out the front door. Body trembling from unquenched lust, it took three attempts for Ariel to make it to her feet and sling her backpack over her shoulder.
She refused to think of his parting words; she wandered through the office, shut off the lights, and then exited the room. One hand braced against the wall or on a table to keep her from 34
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toppling onto her face, Ariel crossed the café slowly, reached the alarm panel, and set the alarm before she made her way out the door and secured the lock.
Several deep breaths later, she stumbled down the street to her house, up the porch steps, and inside. In the dark entry of her home, Ariel let her bag slip to the floor. Eyes closed, she leaned against the wall. Nothing she'd felt before had prepared her for the sensations pulsing through her body.
With a slow, careful swallow, she opened her eyes. It couldn't be much past eight in the evening, she determined. She could easily identify the shapes of the different pieces of furniture.
Distraction would only last so long, Ariel admitted. She pushed away from the wall and staggered down the hall to her bedroom.
Facing the fact that Dane had been th
e one to stop the kiss would come, but not right now.
Right now she had to focus on how to wrestle her body back under control and keep it there while in Dane's presence for the next three weeks. If she was aching and desperate for a good fuck after six days of dealing with him under her feet and stirring up things at the café, she was bound to be nearly certifiable by the time he left.
Her stomach dropped at the sudden thought of his leaving, but she forced the discomfort aside. She hated him around; that was all. It was her café. Her kitchen. His attempts to push her around, to take over where he wasn't wanted, were the sole reason her body behaved so irrationally.
Once he left, it would all go back to normal, Ariel tried to assure herself. Only have to make it through twenty-four more days. Any fallout associated with her body, she'd deal with later.
Much later.
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35
Chapter Four
Day 7
A long night tossing in her bed left Ariel cranky and out of sorts. With the café closed on Sundays, she decided to come in the next morning to check on the orders Dane had said he made the night before. There was also the matter of the “special item” she'd somehow managed to leave in the office the previous afternoon. Unlocking the door and switching off the alarm, Ariel grimaced at the thought of Dane coming across the adult toy she'd purchased the day before from the shop two blocks over from the eatery. Before he'd come in, and after the café had slowed in the morning, she'd run an errand and swung by the bank to get change for the register.
The store had been on her way—a spur-of-the-moment excursion that had caused images and ideas to tumble and turn in her mind. Her bottom tingled at the memory of the wall of floggers, paddles, and leather whips she'd passed to get to the vibrators on display. She'd gone through her backpack several times last night looking for the item she'd purchased. Nothing.
She glanced around the office, but she didn't see the paper bag. She looked around the base of the sofa, then dropped to her knees to see if it had somehow been kicked under the sofa or one of the end tables when she and Dane—Ariel shied away from the thoughts associated with the reason she was on the hunt for her new toy.
