Page 2 of Up in Smoke
“Impasse,” she whispered, walking her fingers across the table. “I could guess why you’re here, but you’d dislike that more than simply telling me.”
Connor said nothing. Hewoulddislike that. Guesswork had always been a source of irritation for him. He dealt only in facts. Again, he got the feeling this girl saw more than most people. The air of mayhem she wore like a second skin probably made people underestimate her. He wouldn’t be one of them.
“You have a military background. But you’re not there now, are you?” She leaned across the table and he caught a whiff of smoke. Not cigarette smoke. Like the strike of a match, or the lingering scent of incense. “It isn’t difficult math, soldier.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“You don’t like trigger, baby, or soldier.” Her tongue lingered against her top lip. “If you don’t like any of my nicknames, better tell me your real one.”
Connor almost laughed. Almost. The nicknames had been her roundabout way of getting him to spill his name first. He’d nearly walked right into it. Why were they waging a battle over something so minor? When this meeting started, they would find out each other’s names anyway.
It was time to let this girl know he didn’t play games. At least not the kind that took place while fully clothed. As he leaned across the table, he watched her blue eyes widen and knew she had to be a blonde underneath that pink hair. Her eyelashes and eyebrows were light, her coloring fair.She’d look goddamn perfect against my black sheets…arms stretched over her head, unable to free herself. Not really wanting to get free at all.
“I never said I didn’t like you calling me baby.”
Dammit. Had he said that out loud? He’d decided not to show her any more interest. Once he made a decision, he stuck to it. Every time. He resented her for being the one to make him deviate. If she weren’t leaning so close, her small tits pressing against the front of her shirt, maybe he’d have kept his resolve. He’d always liked women with bouncy little tits, and he’d lay ten to one odds she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Maybe I just want to hear you call me that under different circumstances.”
When her confidence visibly wavered, Connor wanted to curse. These contradicting sides to her were only increasing his need to know more, and he didnotwant to get involved. Couldn’t afford to. Her chin went up a notch, and that show of fire amidst the uncertainty turned him on. “What circumstances would those be?”
Too soon. Too insane. He’d just met this girl. They’d be working together. He couldn’t sit here in the light of day and detail the many activities he’d like to perform with her. Even if he wanted to, just to see her reaction. To see if she wanted him, too. But what would he do if she did? Drag her onto the conference room table, tug her shirt up to her neck, and get a look at those tits? He’d have to get her back to his apartment if he did that, damn the meeting.
Change the subject. “Why do you smell like smoke?”
Her eyelashes shielded her eyes a second before they flashed wide, hitting him square in the chest with the force of their impact. “I set things on fire.”
Any other time, the expression on the hot, bearded ex-soldier’s face would have made Erin O’Dea dissolve into a fit of laughter. It wasn’t the usual response men gave her when she played the crazy card. Not at all. Maybe that was why she wasn’t laughing. This guy wasn’t typical. Didn’t fit her profile of what men should be like. They all wanted to get inside her until she performed her fun little reveal.Surprise, sweetheart. I’m a convicted arsonist. You might be next.
Cue haunted house cackle.
They never asked why she’d done it or questioned the circumstances, simply vanishing into a puff of smoke. Exactly as planned. This guy wasn’t vanishing, however. He hadn’t flinched, not once, and the trickle of relief in her chest pissed her off. The words “proceed with caution” flashed across her consciousness, sparking and flaming around the edges. This manwouldask why and question the circumstances. Having only met him mere minutes ago, she shouldn’t be so certain of that fact, but it would be reckless to put him in the same category as other men who scared easily. His steady green eyes were so intent on her, she worried her mask might slip underneath the weight of them. She didn’t want him to be the first person to ask her why. She didn’t wantanyoneto ask her why. Her secrets were all she had. After you’d lived behind bars among hundreds of women with your privacy stripped clean away, you held on to what you could. You didn’t let it go for a pair of muscular biceps.
This one just needed a few more nudges and he’d lose interest. It was possible he already had and could hide his emotions better than most. She knew all about that. Although some people, her stepfather mainly,wantedher to be certifiably crazy, it was probably only half true. Yeah, she was a little off. For good reason. The man sitting across from her would recognize it soon enough and stop looking at her like he wanted to devour her, bite by bite.
His gaze became too much to bear and Erin focused on the window. Only one pane of glass between her and the outside. She could survive anything, face anything, as long as that was the case. Which was why she was here. You could only dodge so many bullets before one caught you in the back. This place, this job, was her bullet between the shoulder blades.Woman down.
Working for cops. Hell must have been having a fucking snowstorm. She hadn’t spit on the sidewalk on the way in for no reason. Cops were the enemy. The men and women who took away her freedom. Laughed as they stripped away her dignity. They thought handcuffs and a gun made them smart, but it only made them complacent. At age twenty-five, she’d already proven that. Twice.
The ex-soldier’s raised eyebrow told her she was smiling. After what she’d just said to him, he probably thought that smile meant she was a lunatic. Mission accomplished. For the first time since she’d sworn off men, she regretted sending one running. But it was entirely necessary. This man—this big, rough-hewnmale—was an enforcer. More than that, he had a brain working behind all that stoicism. Even if she were inclined to call him baby in certaincircumstances, it would be disastrous. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he would be dominant in bed. The way he was clenching his fists as if fighting for control, even with her a full two feet away, told her that. He’d be the type to hold a woman down while he pounded out his lust.
That image might have turned her on at one time. Now it terrified her.
Still. She allowed her gaze to drop to his lips. Who knew she could find a beard so appealing? It wasn’t rugged, but close-cut. Well-maintained. He looked like a man who could survive on his own in the wilderness with nothing but string and a Windbreaker. Capable. Made of steel. What would that beard feel like against her cheeks, her chin? If she leaned a little closer across the table, he might let her find out. If he hadn’t already decided she belonged in a straitjacket.Take a number, pal.
“You’d better decide now if this meeting is important to you,” he growled. “Because if you keep looking at me like you want to kiss me, neither one of us is going to be here for it.”
Hooo boy.Something she’d thought long gone shimmied in her belly. “That’s pretty confident.”
“Realistic.”
Erin drummed her fingers on the table before reaching one hand out, intending to tug his beard. “I’m just curious about what this feels like. In places.”
He caught her wrist in midair before it made contact. “You touch me, you’ll find out.”
Ice formed beneath her skin, so freezing cold that it burned like blue fire. Her muscles tightened to the point of pain. She focused on her breathing. In and out. In and out. Just a little tug and her hand would be free. Nothing could contain her. She’d made sure of that. He might harness a lot of power in that muscular frame, but she didn’t sense that he would use it on her. Unless she asked. Which she sure as hell wouldnot.
Her brain commanded her to pull out of his grip, but her body wouldn’t obey. She focused back on the window, zeroed in on the patch of gray sky visible through the glass. “Please let go,” she whispered, furious when her voice shook.
He dropped her hand like it was on fire. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Eyes seeing too much. Discarding theories, thinking of new ones. Like he knew a damn thing about what was wrong with her. Half the time,shedidn’t know.
