“Wait—”
“It was a lovely party. I’m sure my mother is very happy with you and will continue to hire you to fly her on her every whim.” She had no idea where she was going; she’d gotten ready for the party at work, and thanks to her car being broken down again, she’d taken a cab here.
But she had to go.
Unfortunately for her, Sky High’s fixed operating base wasn’t on the main side of the Burbank airport, but across the terminal, on the private sector side. She could see the road from the lot, but it was quiet. No lights. No cars.
And per the usual, she’d left her cell phone in her car in the shop, which was really going to piss off Reena because Dani had promised to call her with a play by play of the rich and famous. Even worse, Dani’s coat was in the coat closet in the building behind her, but even though she couldn’t afford a new one right now, she wasn’t going back for it.
Not now.
Not ever.
Except . . . damn it. Her keys were in her coat pocket.
“Dani.”
You know what? She didn’t need her keys. She had one hidden beneath the mat at her apartment. So she kept moving, quickly. Or at least as quickly as one could move with only one heel. She was halfway through the parking lot, her feet splashing through the water pooling there, when a hand closed around her elbow, gently pulling her around.
“Where are you going?”
She looked up into Shayne’s face. His golden eyes were definitely no longer twinkling with good humor and that bone-melting lust, but were full of dark concern that threatened her composure, as tenuous as it was. And that mouth, the one that had been so adept at amping her heart rate, was no longer sensually curved, but grim. “I’m going home.”
“Where’s your car?”
Pulling free, she shook her head. “I’ll catch a cab. I’ll be fine.” Probably.
Hopefully.
He actually let her take a few steps away before he spoke. “You saw something tonight.”
She nearly tripped, but didn’t. She did, however, slow to a stop, staring straight ahead into the dark night. “Yes.”
She heard his footsteps as he came up behind her, his fine shoes hitting the water pooling in the lot. He’d ruined them, no doubt. She’d ruined them.
“Something that terrified you,” he went on. “So don’t tell me you’re going to be stupid enough to go walking off into the night alone.”
She blinked past the rainwater in her face, still looking straight ahead at nothing, nothing but the scary night.
“Let me give you a ride at least.”
Turning, she met his gaze. He’d shoved his hair off his forehead again, but water was still running in little rivulets down his face. His lashes were inky black and stuck in little spikes. Rain dripped off his nose, along his jaw.
Good God, he was something to look at. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I want to.”
“Shayne, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to baby-sit the crazy chick.”
“It’s just a ride, Dani.”
“Yes, but—”
“Maybe we could talk about it in my car. In my dry car.” Without waiting for an answer, he slipped his fingers around her elbow again and steered her around, back toward the building.
“I’m not going back in there.”
“No.” His car was parked in the front row, a gleaming, fancy, gorgeous Porsche as sleek and sophisticated as the man who owned it. He fished through his pockets and found his keys, opening the passenger door for her.
She glanced inside at the plush leather interior. “I’m too wet. I’ll ruin it.”
He let out a soft huffing laugh that broke through her panic and scraped low in her belly. “Just get in.”
“Shayne—”
“It’s pouring rain, Dani.”
“Yes, but . . .”
When she trailed off, he leaned in, his mouth close to her ear. “Just a ride . . .”
Just a ride . . . Only for her, it felt like more, a lot more. It felt like a great leap of faith. But he’d moved in, his body close enough to hers to share body heat. He wanted her to get in, but it felt, just a little, like going from one danger to another. And yet with one last long look into his eyes, she slid in.
“You’re just going to leave the party?” she asked when he’d come around and slid behind the wheel.
“Yes. Where to?”
She gave him directions to her building in Burbank Hills, and he drove them into the gloomy, tempestuous night.
“If when you get back, something’s happened—”
He slid her a glance. “You mean like someone finding a dead body?”
“I know what I saw, Shayne.”
“If when I get back, something’s happened, I’ll call you.”
“I left my coat.”
“I’ll make sure you get it.” He made the turn onto her block and parked at the curb. She lived on a street right out of the turn of the century, but not the current one. The houses here were three-story Victorians dating to the early 1900s, all having been renovated into duplexes. Most had been redone many, many times, and though they were old and quaint—a polite word for small as a postage stamp—they possessed great character and had a good view of the city below.
She’d lived here since college, and loved it. It was more home than anything had ever been before, that being because her mother had been fond of living off her husbands, and they’d moved around.
A lot.
But Dani wasn’t going down that particular memory trail tonight. Nope, all she wanted now was a mug of hot tea, a bathtub full of bubbles, and then bed.
Alone.
As soon as Shayne stopped the car, she reached for the door handle. “Thanks.” Then, before he could say a word, she scrambled out into the storm and shut the door.
Behind her he turned off the Porsche.
She hurried, going as fast as she could with one heel, but she heard the driver’s door open and then shut. She sped up, not wanting him to walk her to her door, not wanting to look into that face and see the mixture of wariness and pity.
Because after all, she was crazy.
But she wasn’t, damn it. She didn’t have an explanation for what she’d seen, but somehow, she’d figure it out—
“Dani.”
How he’d caught up so quickly, she’d never know. Probably those ridiculously long legs of his. Or her lack of a heel. “I’m fine. There’s no need for you to walk me up.”
“Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to anyway.”
A stubborn gentleman. That would have made him all the more attractive if she wasn’t uncomfortably close to a breakdown and wanted to be alone to have it, thank you very much. But she remained silent until they took the steps to the second floor. There was a hallway here, and two apartments. A head popped out of the first one, and she was just spooked enough to nearly jump right out of her skin.
Alan was a high-school geometry teacher who’d moved in a few weeks back, and Dani had done something completely out of character. She’d made him welcome brownies. He’d bought her a pizza and they’d watched a basketball game on her TV. He’d like her to go out with him in a more formal way, but something held her back. He was cute and funny and sweet, and she wasn’t sure what her problem was.
He smiled when he saw her, that warm, kind smile—
Which dimmed as he then took in Shayne, and then her disheveled state. “Dani? You okay?”
She went with her standard. “I’m fine, thanks.” Well, other than the fact that she’d kissed a stranger in a closet, seen a murder, and was frozen solid as a Popsicle . . . she was fine. Fine, fine, fine.
Her apartment was right next to Alan’s. At her door, she paused. Alan was still watching her. Shayne had moved in close behind her, also watching her. “Good night,” she said. To both of them.
Only neither budged.
“I can take it from here,” she assured them.
/> More of neither man budging. The only sound was the rain and the water dripping off herself and Shayne. “Oh, for God’s sake.” She bent to reach beneath her mat for the key she kept hidden there.
A sound of disbelief came from Shayne. “You’re kidding me. You can’t hide a key there.” He glanced back at Alan. “And he’s watching.”
“Hey,” Alan said, frowning. “I’d never just—”
“I’m just saying.” Shayne stepped in close, blocking Alan’s view of her. “Look, I’m really beginning to worry about you.”
She shot him a look, then put the key in the door. “Good night,” she said again, more firmly.
Or so she tried. But her damn voice shook. Okay, definitely time to be alone . . . She turned the key and stepped inside.
With Shayne right on her heels.
“Oh, no. No way.” Putting a hand to his chest, she halted his progress, but that left them standing in the doorway, incredibly close, his head bent down toward hers, their mouths nearly touching.
Alan nearly fell out of his own doorway trying to get a better view. “Dani? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Still fine,” she called out, eyes on Shayne as she gave him a push.
Like a brick wall—or a stubborn ass, pick one—he didn’t budge. “I want to walk you inside.”
“Not necessary.”
“I think it is.”
“I can get myself inside, I manage to do it every day. I’m not crazy, damn it.”
“Okay,” he said agreeably. “You’re not crazy. Explain tonight.”
“Before or after the closet? Because that part? That was crazy.”
His mouth twitched. “After you kissed me.”
“You kissed me.”
“No.”
“Yes. You held up the mistletoe and leaned in and—”
Oh, God. She’d kissed him.
He let out a sound that might have been a half laugh, half growl as he stepped forward, into her, slipping an arm around her waist.
“Hey—”
Whipping her around, he shut the door and pressed her back against it, trapping her between the hard wood and the even harder length of his body, which freed up his hands to cup her face as he kissed her.
Really kissed her, and holy smokes, she was out of her league here with him. So out of her league.
He nibbled at her mouth until she opened for him, a feat that took less than a heartbeat because damn, he knew what he was doing. She found herself wrapped around him like shrink-wrap, kissing him back with everything she had, which caused a low, sexy rumble from deep in his throat. His hands got very busy, gliding down her arms, her hips, her bottom, which he squeezed, before moving up again, to her back bared by the dress.
The feel of his fingers on her skin brought a shiver that had nothing to do with the fact that they were both chilled and dripping water on the floor, nothing at all—
His industrious fingers played in the black velvet strings crisscrossing her back, entangling with the knot, and she went still. If he loosened it, the thing would release the entire top half of her dress.
He kept playing.
She stopped breathing.
Lifting his head, looking into her eyes, he smiled, as his fingers dallied with the string, and then . . . oh, God and then, very lightly pulled.
Still not breathing. “Shayne—”
His eyes were sexy and slumberous as his hands slid down her body one last time before falling away. “Now you can say I’ve kissed you.”
She was breathing again, like a marathon runner now. The only thing that made it even halfway acceptable was the fact that he wasn’t breathing any too steady either.
“Dani?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You have no idea what I was going to ask.”
“You were going to ask me out. I don’t think so.”
He let out a low laugh of a genuine amusement. “I was going to ask you not to leave your key under the mat.”
Her face bloomed. “Oh.”
“But just out of curiosity,” he murmured, still looking amused. “Why wouldn’t you go out with me?”
“Doesn’t matter, since you weren’t asking.”
“Why, Dani?”
She sighed. “You don’t want to know.”
“No, I do. I really do.”
“Okay.” She shook her head. “You’re a ten.”
“A ten?”
“Yeah. And tens? They date tens. And sixes date sixes. If a ten dated a six, then the six is pretty much just asking for a heartache.”
He blinked. “Was that in English?”
“Never mind.” She tried to open her door to kick him out but he blocked it with a palm on the wood above her head.
“You think you’re a six?” he asked.
She controlled her wince. “I know I presented as a three, but on a better day, I can be a six.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, pressing it into her hand. She looked down. A business card.
His.
“My cell-phone number is there if you need me.” Leaning in, he put his mouth to her ear. “And on your worst day? You’re a ten plus.”
Her knees wobbled. He was strong and smart and sexy—and colossally wrong for her. She recognized it, he had to recognize it, and she just hoped she was also smart enough to remember it. “I won’t be calling, Shayne.”
Something flashed across his face. Resignation? Regret?
Lingering heat?
Definitely lingering heat.
Fine. Great. So they were both still a little turned on. They were adults. They could deal with it. Yanking open the door, she gave him more than a push this time, it was far closer to a shove, and she knew the only reason she was able to budge him at all was because he let her.
Gaze still locked on hers, he stepped back, opening his mouth to say . . .
She had no idea because she shut the door. Shut the door on a hot man who thought she was hot too.
Ten plus? She fanned her suddenly hot face with her hand. Maybe she really was crazy. Dragging a deep breath, she moved into the living room, kicking off her worthless shoes.
God, what an evening. She’d left a few dishes in the sink, and she had some reports from work spread across the kitchen table, but the place was warm and cozy. Home sweet home. Grabbing a spoon and her carton of ice cream, she headed toward her bedroom. She needed to ditch the little black dress ASAP, get a hot bath, and then fall