A Perfect Storm
Page 48
“Shoot, no.” If anything, she was more enthusiastic than ever.
He held on to her hand. “It’d be understandable, honey. Even if Terry Janes doesn’t pick up on the…” his attention moved over her “…enticement, other guys will come on to you. They’ll be drinking, probably pushy.”
“Yeah, I know.” Duh. That was the plan. She squeezed his hand in reassurance, then let him go. “But it’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I’ve done this sort of thing before, remember? I can handle it.”
Expression darkening, he pulled back and started the truck. “You handling it is what I’m worried about the most.”
“Well, don’t.” She hooked her seat belt and gifted him with a cocky smile. “We’ve got the bases covered, so there’s nothing to worry about. Now let’s get this show on the road.”
CHAPTER TEN
WORRY? HOW COULD HE NOT? Arizona showed no caution, no real understanding of the risk involved. She acted as if it was all fun and games, showing the same enthusiasm for cutthroat danger that most young ladies her age gave to a shopping spree.
She might not comprehend the temptation she presented in her sexier clothes, but he knew, and the reality of it chewed on his conscience. No matter what the final reward might be, dangling her out there for traffickers to drool over didn’t sit right.
It felt more wrong by the moment.
“You look p.o.’d.” With her good mood dwindling, she tipped her head at him. “What’d I do wrong now?”
“Not a thing.” It wasn’t what she had done as much as how she faced the world—recklessly, with no consideration for her own safety or limitations. Spencer had no idea how to rein her in. At times he wondered if such a thing was possible.
“Hmm.” She shocked him with a suggestive look. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mood says another.”
What the hell is she up to now? Treading carefully, he said, “Unlike you, I understand that the best laid plans have a tendency to go sideways.”
“Poor Spencer.” She eyed his chest, lower. “Did you want me to fall apart?”
He scowled at her husky tone. “Of course not.” What was she thinking about that had her sounding so breathless? “You don’t need to be overly worried, but a degree of caution would be welcome.”
“So…” Deliberately teasing and intimate, she leaned toward him. “How much caution does it take to make you chill?” She stroked the side of his neck, threaded her fingers into his hair.
The touch froze him, left him so taut he felt ready to break. Spencer concentrated on driving—and on not getting a boner.
“Would it make you feel better,” she continued, “if I was a little scared, maybe a little needy?”
“God, no.” She’d lived enough of her life in fear. As his body stirred, he locked his teeth. “But you don’t have to be so damn happy about it, either.”
Her cool fingers moved over his neck. “Is that what attracted you to Marla?”
“What?” Following along wasn’t easy, not while she touched him without fear. Not when her posture showed off her cle**age. Not with her voice all husky and deep.
Crossing her legs, she went more or less sideways in the seat to better face him. “Marla.” In contrast to what she said, she turned her hand and drifted her knuckles over his jaw, under his chin. “Were you drawn to her because she’s a typically helpless female?”
With her skirt hiking even higher, of course he looked at her legs. Again. They were so smooth, slim but shapely. And he could almost imagine them open to him or wrapped around his waist.
Or warm against his jaw…
Damn.
On the one hand, it surprised Spencer that Arizona would utilize blatant female ploys. But on the other hand…he knew better than to ever underestimate her. She used those ploys for a reason…he had to figure out why.
Unsure of her endgame, he took care with his reply. The last thing he wanted to do was make Marla more of a target; Arizona already didn’t like her. “She’s a successful Realtor, an independent woman who owns her own home. I wouldn’t call that helpless.” But Marla did like to play off the idea of a single woman alone. More often than not, the ruse compelled him to lend a hand.
“Maybe for her, calculating is a better word choice, then.”
“Is that jealousy talking?” Given Arizona’s mercurial mood swings, he had reason to worry.
Finally drawing her hand away, Arizona scowled. “Why would I be jealous?”
“I have no idea. She’s just a neighbor—”
“That you slept with.”
Right. Definitely tones of jealousy. Figuring her out could take a lifetime. “I’ve slept with a lot of women…”
Affront stiffened her spine. “Big whoop. I’ve slept with—”
“Don’t.” Muscles suddenly tense, Spencer worked his jaw. He did not want her drawing comparisons between consensual sex and human trafficking. “It’s not the same thing.”
Gently, she whispered, “Yeah, I know.” She retreated to look out the window.
He missed her touch, especially since she’d replaced it with the chill of her cold shoulder. “What are you up to?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Something,” he corrected.
Her mouth pursed, her eyes narrowed. “Forget it.”
He held on to her hand. “It’d be understandable, honey. Even if Terry Janes doesn’t pick up on the…” his attention moved over her “…enticement, other guys will come on to you. They’ll be drinking, probably pushy.”
“Yeah, I know.” Duh. That was the plan. She squeezed his hand in reassurance, then let him go. “But it’ll be okay. Don’t worry. I’ve done this sort of thing before, remember? I can handle it.”
Expression darkening, he pulled back and started the truck. “You handling it is what I’m worried about the most.”
“Well, don’t.” She hooked her seat belt and gifted him with a cocky smile. “We’ve got the bases covered, so there’s nothing to worry about. Now let’s get this show on the road.”
CHAPTER TEN
WORRY? HOW COULD HE NOT? Arizona showed no caution, no real understanding of the risk involved. She acted as if it was all fun and games, showing the same enthusiasm for cutthroat danger that most young ladies her age gave to a shopping spree.
She might not comprehend the temptation she presented in her sexier clothes, but he knew, and the reality of it chewed on his conscience. No matter what the final reward might be, dangling her out there for traffickers to drool over didn’t sit right.
It felt more wrong by the moment.
“You look p.o.’d.” With her good mood dwindling, she tipped her head at him. “What’d I do wrong now?”
“Not a thing.” It wasn’t what she had done as much as how she faced the world—recklessly, with no consideration for her own safety or limitations. Spencer had no idea how to rein her in. At times he wondered if such a thing was possible.
“Hmm.” She shocked him with a suggestive look. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mood says another.”
What the hell is she up to now? Treading carefully, he said, “Unlike you, I understand that the best laid plans have a tendency to go sideways.”
“Poor Spencer.” She eyed his chest, lower. “Did you want me to fall apart?”
He scowled at her husky tone. “Of course not.” What was she thinking about that had her sounding so breathless? “You don’t need to be overly worried, but a degree of caution would be welcome.”
“So…” Deliberately teasing and intimate, she leaned toward him. “How much caution does it take to make you chill?” She stroked the side of his neck, threaded her fingers into his hair.
The touch froze him, left him so taut he felt ready to break. Spencer concentrated on driving—and on not getting a boner.
“Would it make you feel better,” she continued, “if I was a little scared, maybe a little needy?”
“God, no.” She’d lived enough of her life in fear. As his body stirred, he locked his teeth. “But you don’t have to be so damn happy about it, either.”
Her cool fingers moved over his neck. “Is that what attracted you to Marla?”
“What?” Following along wasn’t easy, not while she touched him without fear. Not when her posture showed off her cle**age. Not with her voice all husky and deep.
Crossing her legs, she went more or less sideways in the seat to better face him. “Marla.” In contrast to what she said, she turned her hand and drifted her knuckles over his jaw, under his chin. “Were you drawn to her because she’s a typically helpless female?”
With her skirt hiking even higher, of course he looked at her legs. Again. They were so smooth, slim but shapely. And he could almost imagine them open to him or wrapped around his waist.
Or warm against his jaw…
Damn.
On the one hand, it surprised Spencer that Arizona would utilize blatant female ploys. But on the other hand…he knew better than to ever underestimate her. She used those ploys for a reason…he had to figure out why.
Unsure of her endgame, he took care with his reply. The last thing he wanted to do was make Marla more of a target; Arizona already didn’t like her. “She’s a successful Realtor, an independent woman who owns her own home. I wouldn’t call that helpless.” But Marla did like to play off the idea of a single woman alone. More often than not, the ruse compelled him to lend a hand.
“Maybe for her, calculating is a better word choice, then.”
“Is that jealousy talking?” Given Arizona’s mercurial mood swings, he had reason to worry.
Finally drawing her hand away, Arizona scowled. “Why would I be jealous?”
“I have no idea. She’s just a neighbor—”
“That you slept with.”
Right. Definitely tones of jealousy. Figuring her out could take a lifetime. “I’ve slept with a lot of women…”
Affront stiffened her spine. “Big whoop. I’ve slept with—”
“Don’t.” Muscles suddenly tense, Spencer worked his jaw. He did not want her drawing comparisons between consensual sex and human trafficking. “It’s not the same thing.”
Gently, she whispered, “Yeah, I know.” She retreated to look out the window.
He missed her touch, especially since she’d replaced it with the chill of her cold shoulder. “What are you up to?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Something,” he corrected.
Her mouth pursed, her eyes narrowed. “Forget it.”
