Hot Property

by Jenna Bennett

  I shrugged. “Like you said once, there’s no harm in looking.”

  “Depends what you’re looking at, don’t it, darlin’? To be fair, maybe I oughta pull down my zipper too, so you can compare.”

  “No thanks,” I said. “That wouldn’t be fair at all. Beau wears Wonderjocks.”

  “He wears what?”

  I was in the process of explaining to Rafe what a Wonderjock was, and how it worked, when the food arrived, and hard on the heels of the waiter, Timothy Briggs. Who did a theatrical double-take when he saw us. If that was the best he could do, I wasn’t surprised that Broadway hadn’t worked out.

  “Oh, Savannah! I didn’t realize you’d be here!”

  “Of course not,” I said dryly, “how could you?”

  Tim didn’t answer. He had already switched his attention from me to Rafe. “Hello, handsome.” His voice was a sultry purr, and his posture – shoulders cocked and hands on his hips – was pure teenage vixen. I had to turn away to hide my smile.

  “Hi, Tim.” Rafe’s voice wasn’t sultry at all, but his wicked grin and flash of dark eyes more than made up for it. Tim sighed appreciatively.

  I rolled my eyes. “What are you doing here, Tim?”

  “Oh, I’m just having dinner with some friends,” Tim said airily, waving a languid hand. “What about you kids?” His eyes returned to Rafe.

  “We’re actually having dinner, too,” I said. “Quite a coincidence, isn’t it? Especially since this is a restaurant.”

  Tim didn’t answer, and I’m not even sure he heard me. He seemed to be too busy watching Rafe breathe to pay attention to anything else. “What a wonderful surprise to see you again, Rafael.” The way he pronounced Rafe’s name was positively caressing.

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” Rafe answered, and although his tone didn’t match Tim’s for plummy suggestiveness, it was as close to audible sex-appeal as it’s possible to come. If I could have bottled and sold it, I could have made a fortune. Tim turned to me, lowering his voice confidingly.

  “Such a pity he’s straight, darling.”

  “Isn’t it?” I admitted demurely.

  Tim tittered. “So what were you two sitting here talking about? It must have been something exciting, to make you blush so prettily!” He sent me an arch look.

  Rafe grinned. “Underwear, actually. I got a look at Savannah’s yesterday, so I figured I’d offer to show her mine. Tit for tat.” He winked. Annoyingly, I blushed again.

  “Oooooh!” Tim fluted. “Can I be included in that offer, too? Pretty please! I’d love to see your tat.”

  “Unfortunately,” Rafe said smoothly, “for both of us, Savannah said no.”

  “Shame on you.” Tim pouted, sending me a wounded glance for ruining his fun. Then he lowered his voice and leaned a little closer to Rafe. “Forgive me, Rafael, but would you mind settling a question for us? Savannah and I talked about this the other day. Is that…” He glanced down into Rafe’s lap, pausing delicately, “the Wonderjock?”

  From the way he pronounced the brand name, he might almost have been talking about a priceless work of art. Like Connie Fortunato’s Georgia O’Keeffe.

  Rafe arched his brows in my direction. “You were talking about this the other day?”

  Tim nodded innocently. I blushed, bit my lip, and shrugged. Rafe grinned. “Sorry to disappoint you, but this is all me.”

  “Good Lord!” Tim said, fanning himself with a limp hand.

  “Well, you know what they say.” Rafe looked at me and winked. I couldn’t keep another blush from staining my cheeks crimson.

  Tim must have been so overcome by this news that he didn’t demur when I pushed him on his way, still glassy-eyed and breathing fast. He joined a threesome of other good-looking, obviously gay men on the other side of the restaurant, and they stuck their heads together, with frequent glances in our direction. They weren’t looking at me, and it didn’t seem to bother Rafe, so I decided not to draw attention to it.

  “So you and Tim were talking about my underwear the other day?” Rafe said, picking up his knife and fork and going to work on his chicken. “You musta forgotten to mention that.”

  I lifted my own fork and picked at my food. “We were talking about you and about the Wonderjock, but not necessarily at the same time. I mean, I wasn’t telling Tim that you wore one. I mean…”

  “I should hope not,” Rafe said with a grin. “I guess if you’re discussing my equipment with other people, there’s hope that I’ll get you to use it sometime, right?”

  I shrugged. “Anything’s possible, if you wait long enough. Why don’t you just make sure you come back to Nashville in one piece, and we’ll see?”

  “Now, there’s a thought that’s guaranteed to distract a man from his duty. I’ll do my best.” He popped a bit of chicken in his mouth and started chewing. I picked on my food some more.

  “You know,” I said tentatively, after a minute or two, with a glance at him from under my lashes, “yesterday, at the Fortunatos’ house, when I said those things about you …”

  He glanced up, eyes wary. “Yeah?”

  “I didn’t mean… I mean, I didn’t intend… I was just trying to make Perry think…”

  He didn’t answer, just let me run out of words on my own. When I finally did, he opened his mouth, and all the laughter was gone from both his eyes and his voice. “I am what I am, darlin’. If you or your mama have a problem with me because of it, that’s too bad, but it ain’t something I can change.”

  “I don’t have a problem with it,” I said firmly.

  He smiled. “Sure you do. Everything you told Perry was true. That’s why he believed you. You’ll forgive me for saying this, darlin’, but you’re a terrible liar.”

  I bit my lip. “Sorry.” And not for being a terrible liar.

  “No problem. It got us outta there alive; I ain’t about to complain. If it saves my life, you can call me anything you want.”

  He went back to eating. I watched him for another minute, while I pushed my own food around on the plate. “Since we’re talking about Perry…”

  “Yeah?”

  “There was a minute or two yesterday when you scared me.”

  He cocked a brow. “Just a minute or two?”

  “When you were talking to Perry about what you wanted to do to me…”

  “Unlike you, I’m an excellent liar.” His voice was easy.

  “So it wasn’t true? None of it?”

  “Well… not the way I made it sound.”

  “I see,” I said. Whispered, really.

  He looked at me for a moment without speaking, and then he put his knife and fork down and faced me across the table. “I’m sorry I scared you, Savannah. But because I did – because you were scared and you weren’t just pretending to be – Perry believed us. We walked outta there. You did good.” He lifted his beer bottle and toasted me.

  “Yes,” I said, “but…”

  It was weak of me, no doubt, but I wanted more reassurance. I wanted him to tell me that that all-consuming heat in his eyes, that darkness I’d glimpsed, was just play-acting and wouldn’t come back to swallow me if I ever got that close to him again. If I ever made good on that promise I’d made.

  He watched me wring my hands for a moment, and then he spoke. Lightly. “I’m a man, darlin’. A mostly naked woman tied to a bed is gonna tempt me. Especially when she looks like you. I ain’t gonna apologize for it.”

  I nodded, shakily. He added, “But you were scared out of your mind, and there ain’t nothing attractive about that.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He shrugged. “One of these days I figure you’ll believe me, as long as I keep saying it. I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

  Chapter 21

  We spent the rest of dinner talking about mostly inconsequential things. I told him about Gary Lee and Charlene and what they had been doing every time I showed them a house, and Rafe told me he’d suspected as much, but he’d figured it
was better not to tell me. I asked him if he knew anything about what had happened to the other men who had been involved in the open house robberies, and he said as far as he knew, the police had arrested all three of them, along with Julio Melendez. In the process, he confirmed that the other three robbers had indeed been the three men I’d seen him with at the Shortstop bar last week.

  “Though if I’d known they were gonna be there, I wouldn’t have suggested going. Ishmael likes women, but it don’t seem to occur to him that they don’t always like him.”

  “Ishmael was the one who kept staring at me? No, I didn’t like him all that much. As a matter of fact, I wondered if it might have been him who killed Lila. He was almost as tall as you, and had those pretty, dark eyes.”

  Rafe shook his head. “He already had a girl that night. And he ain’t that bad. Just ended up on the wrong side of the law when he was young, and stayed there.”

  “Kind of like you,” I said dryly.

  He grinned. “Nothing like me. Women always adore me, or hadn’t you noticed?”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you say so.”

  We left Fidelio’s around ten o’clock. Tim and his friends were still eating and drinking, and shooting us glances out of the corners of their eyes. As he passed by, Rafe paused for a second to put a hand on Tim’s shoulder and flash a smile that ought to have melted the ice cubes in every glass on the table. His voice was equally melting, and would probably be responsible for quite a few wet-dreams later. “Nice to see you again, Tim. Have a good night.”

  I glanced over my shoulder when he walked away, and saw that all four of the men had reached for their water glasses at the same time.

  “That was mean,” I said when we reached the street.

  Rafe grinned. “But fun. They’d been staring at me for the past hour, so I figured I might as well give’em something to think about.”

  He looked around and added, “Can you give me a ride? I had Wendell leave my bike outside your place earlier.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Here. You can drive.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He took the keys I handed him in one hand and my elbow in the other, and steered me toward the car.

  We spent most of the drive in silence. I was full of food, just a little drowsy from the wine, and I had a lot on my mind. Rafe must have been in similar straits, because he didn’t seem to have much to say, either. He pulled the car up to the curb outside the building – I could see his Harley-Davidson parked a little further down the street – and we got out and stood on the sidewalk in front of the gate, a little awkwardly.

  “Um…” I glanced over my shoulder. “Do you want to come upstairs for a cup of coffee or something?”

  He smiled. “I guess you feel safe asking me that, seeing as you know I’m in a hurry, don’t you?”

  I shrugged, and he added, “I don’t think that’d be a good idea, darlin’. Don’t wanna start something I don’t have time to finish, and if I start something anyway, I’ll likely end up in jail.”

  I nodded. A part of me had counted on his saying no. I don’t think I would have suggested it, had I not been absolutely certain he’d say no. However, there was another part that wished, secretly, that he’d accepted. Although that part was probably just tipsy and a little sentimental, and certainly too self-absorbed to think about what would be best for him. “I guess this is it, then.”

  “Guess so.”

  We looked at each other for a moment. “Take care of yourself,” I said.

  “You, too. And don’t marry nobody while I’m gone. If Satterfield proposes, put him off for a while. I’ve got plans for when I get back, and if you’re married to somebody else, that’s gonna cramp my style.” He winked.

  “Sure,” I said sarcastically, fighting back a blush. “If Todd proposes, I’ll just tell him that Rafe wanted me to wait, so he could sleep with me before I got engaged. I’m sure Todd will understand.”

  He laughed. “Oh, he’ll understand, all right. He won’t like it, but he’ll understand.”

  We stood and looked at each other for another few seconds. “I’ll miss you,” I said impulsively, surprised to realize it was true. In just a few weeks, he’d become a part of my life. Not a huge or permanent part, more like a part that came and went, but one that was usually there when I needed it.

  He grinned. “I’ll miss you, too. At least when some other gorgeous blonde isn’t throwing herself at me.”

  “Thanks.” Here I was, trying to be sincere and serious, and all he could do was make bad jokes. “Your sentimentality is heart-warming.”

  He flashed another grin. “I do my best.” And then the grin faded and he reached out and touched my cheek with his knuckles. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, and one that, for all its gentleness, felt more like a quick jab in the stomach. “I gotta go, darlin’.”

  I nodded. “Is this where you kiss me goodbye and ride off into the sunset?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the Harley-Davidson. “More like I drive hell for leather down the interstate with the law on my tail, but yeah. I guess.”

  “OK,” I said softly.

  He arched a brow. “You ain’t gonna fight me over it?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, hot damn,” Rafe said. “I need to go away more often. Come here, darlin’.”

  He put both hands on my waist and pulled me closer, close enough to feel the heat from his body through my dress. If I took a deep breath, my chest would probably touch his. Good thing I couldn’t seem to get that much air into my lungs.

  Looking up into his eyes was uncomfortable, so I focused on his lips instead. They were beautiful lips: nicely shaped and just full enough without being too full; made for kissing.

  As I stared, those nice lips moved, and I concentrated to hear what they were saying. Rafe’s voice was rough, and the buzzing in my ears didn’t help, but I could just make out the words. “Christ, Savannah! I oughta be halfway to Memphis by now, and if you look at me like that, I’ll never even make it down the street.”

  The shock cleared my head, and I stared up at him, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. The next second he had yanked me up against him; chest to chest, hips to hips, and mouth to mouth. My body stiffened, and then melted against his. As his tongue slipped into my mouth, my eyes rolled back in my head and my knees turned to water. If he hadn’t been holding me up, I would have melted into a puddle at his feet.

  This state of affairs went on for a while. I’m not sure how long, since I was mostly unconscious. But eventually an insistent noise intruded on the moment, and after listening to it for a while, my body got the message that it needed to respond. It took incredible effort, but I managed to get both hands against Rafe’s chest and push.

  Once I was away from the heat and pull of his body, the noise distilled itself into words. “Break it up, you two! This is a public place; you can’t do that here!”

  I looked around, blinking, my lips swollen and my hair straggling, only to be confronted with a black-and-white squad car and the smirking face of patrol officer George Truman. Spicer was leaning across the passenger seat, grinning. “Shoulda figured it’d be you two again,” he said. “No better’n a couple of kids. Take it upstairs or we’re gonna have to run you in for indecent behavior.”

  “Sorry,” I managed. Rafe didn’t say a word, but I could feel his body strum with tension. Difficult to say whether it was because of what we’d just been doing or the fact that Spicer and Truman might be here to haul him off to jail. “We’ll move.”

  Spicer put the squad car in gear. “See that you do. Or you’ll be spending the night downtown. And not together, either.”

  He pulled away from the curb. We watched the car drive away, and then I turned to Rafe. It took effort to make my voice steady, but I managed. “You should go.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to look up and meet his eyes, so I kept mine on the top button of his shirt instead. He nodded, but didn’t move. I added, “Before they r
ealize they made a mistake and come back for you.”

  Grimaldi had said that next time, she’s make sure Spicer and Truman knew not to let him leave.

  “Right. I’ll see you around, darlin’.” He hesitated for a second before he leaned down and kissed me again. This time on the cheek. His lips were cool against my skin, and he smelled faintly of something clean and spicy, that I hadn’t noticed in the sensory overload earlier.

  “Be careful,” I said. Darn it, we were back where we started, standing awkwardly on the sidewalk with nothing to say!

  He grinned at me. “Sure thing. You too.”

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  And with another quick grin he turned on his heel and walked away. I stood where I was and watched him get on the bike, start it up, and pull into traffic. He lifted his hand once, and then he was gone. I watched the taillight of the bike until I lost it among the others, merging onto the interstate down at the corner of 5th and Main. And then I went upstairs to my – I admit it – lonely apartment and went to bed. Alone. And if I felt just a touch of regret, that’s nobody’s business but my own.

  # # #

  Excerpt

  CONTRACT PENDING

  Cutthroat Business Mystery #3

  Chapter 1

  Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say, and there must be something to it, because I started missing Rafael Collier pretty much the minute his taillight disappeared around the corner at the end of the block. As the weeks went by with no sign of life, I only missed him more.

  Or maybe missed isn’t exactly the right word. I mean, I’m not stupid, and missing Rafe would be just that. Stupid. We weren’t involved, and it wasn’t like I cared that I might never see him again. Not really. Not much, anyway.

  Or maybe I cared a little. When a man saves your life, you tend to feel a little sentimental about him afterwards, and the fact that Rafe is drop-dead gorgeous and has made no secret of finding me somewhat attractive as well, didn’t exactly hurt, either. Nor did the fact that he was the only man I had ever met who could, quite literally, leave me breathless and weak in the knees with no more than a look.