Текст книги "Wanted"

Автор книги: J. Kenner

Соавторы: J. Kenner
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

His mixed-race background had blessed him with creamy dark skin that boasted a golden undertone, and his eyes flashed a deep ebony. It was in those eyes that you really saw the man. Massive and intense and just a bit menacing. But also fiercely loyal.

He held out his arms and I went willingly into them. “How are you holding up there, Dragonbait?”

“Not great.” I sighed, his scent reminding me of Uncle Jahn, a musky male scent that probably came in a bottle but seemed to me to be part and parcel of those men I adored. “I’m glad you’re here. I thought you were out of town.”

“We came back, of course.” By we, I knew he meant himself and Tyler Sharp. “We had to be here for Jahn,” Cole added. He pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. “And for you.”

“Is Tyler hiding in the crowd somewhere?” I didn’t mention that I’d already honed in on Evan.

“He was right behind me. But he was snagged by a limber blonde thing who looked like she wanted to wrap herself around him.”

I had to laugh. Even at a funeral, Tyler was a girl-magnet.

Cole grinned. “Yeah, well, don’t hold it against her. I got the feeling she’s been self-medicating her grief for hours.”

“I know how she feels.”

He looked hard at me, the humor all but erased from his face. “You need anything, you ask.”

I nodded, but stayed silent. The only thing I needed was to let myself go a little wild. To shake off the weight of my grief, cut loose, and get lost in an adrenaline haze. It would work—I knew damn well that was the best way to take the edge off the pain and loss I was feeling. But no matter what, I wasn’t going to go there.

Beside me, Cole called out a greeting to Tyler. I inched away from Cole and watched as the third of Jahn’s knights approached. Where Cole was burly, Tyler was lean and athletic. He had the kind of good looks that could sneak up on a person, and the kind of charm that could make people do whatever Tyler wanted, and be absolutely certain it was their own idea all along.

He reached out for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Tell us what you need.”

“Nothing,” I lied. “Just you two.” I lifted a shoulder. “Really. It’s better just having you guys here.”

“Where’s Evan?” Tyler asked, and though the question was directed at Cole, I turned to look, too. But Evan had disappeared.

“Well, shit. He was right beside me a minute ago.” Cole glanced around. “Should be easy enough to spot. He’s still in that damn monkey suit.”

“He didn’t want to take the time to go change.” Tyler’s attention turned to me. “You’ve seen him, though, right?”

“I—no,” I admitted. “I mean, I’ve seen him across the room, but I haven’t talked to him. Not yet.”

“Yeah?” Tyler’s mouth curved down in a frown. “He texted me as he was leaving the dedication. Said he was coming straight here to make sure you were okay.”

“He did?” A lazy little ripple of pleasure crept up my back.

“Yeah, he—wait. There he is. Evan.” His voice carried across the room, and several heads turned toward us. I, however, saw only his face. His eyes. And I swear they were looking at me with the kind of wicked heat I’d fantasized about.

I gasped, that sweet ripple of pleasure now moving to decidedly more interesting parts of my body. I glanced down at the floor, telling myself to get a grip. When I looked up, Evan was moving toward us in response to Tyler’s insistent gesture. This time, however, I saw nothing in his eyes, leaving me to wonder if the ripples of heat existed only in my imagination.

He came toward us with long, confident strides. The crowd shifted automatically as he walked, as if it was as natural to clear a path for this man as it was to defer to royalty.

When he reached us, he didn’t look at me. Not even a glance. Instead his attention was focused entirely on Tyler and Cole. His manner was brusque, his tone all business. “Everything okay in California?”

“We’ll talk later,” Tyler said, “but it’s all good, man.”

“Good,” Evan said. He shifted his weight, as if he was about to drift away from our group.

“I hear all those movie stars are raving about your burritos,” I blurted. I didn’t know about all the various business ventures that the three had their hands in, but I’d paid attention when they’d bought the California-based fast-food chain that I used to frequent during high school. The place had been in violation of so many health codes it’s a wonder I survived my teenage years without succumbing to hepatitis, but the guys managed to not only clean the place up but actually expand it into a half dozen other states.

Not that I gave a flip about burritos or California—I just wanted the warmth of Evan’s eyes on me. Hell, I would have settled for the quick flash of a smile—I mean, both Cole and Tyler managed as much. But it wasn’t their reaction I craved—it was Evan’s. And all I got there was the chill of his indifference.

It made no sense. My secret lust notwithstanding, I’d known Evan my entire adult life, and the conversation had always flowed easily. After all, I’d had a lot of practice at hiding my secrets.

I told myself that he had business on his mind, but I didn’t really believe it. His silence felt like a slight. Like he was intentionally avoiding looking at me. And, frankly, on this of all days, that kind of ticked me off.

I was so intent on being irritated with Evan, that I didn’t realize Kevin had approached until he stepped up next to me and tugged me firmly into his embrace.

“Hey.” I flashed a quick smile, hoping I didn’t look disappointed to see him.

“Hey, yourself.”

I leaned in to receive his sweet kiss. And, damn me all to hell, all I could think as my lips brushed this man’s was whether or not Evan was watching.

I pulled away and forced myself to focus entirely on the man I’d just kissed. “Everything okay? Do you have to go in?”

“No crises,” he said. “Truth, justice, and the American way can continue on without me.”

He gently kissed my temple, and as I glanced between him and Evan, I had to wonder why the hell I was stalling. This was an incredibly kind and thoughtful man who had made it perfectly clear that he wanted to move past casual dating into a more serious relationship, and yet I was still caught up in lingering teenage fantasies? Honestly, did men get more upstanding and eligible than FBI agents? And considering my father had introduced us, he already had the parental seal of approval.

Purposefully, I moved closer, hooking my arms around his waist, then tilting my head up to look at his face. His wavy blonde hair was neatly trimmed and his blue eyes held charm and humor. All in all, he had nice-guy good looks, like the cute quarterback who’s not as sexy as the guy in leather with the low-slung car, but still totally hot. “I really appreciate you being here with me.”

“I told SAC Burnett that I needed to be here for you today,” he said, referring to the special agent in charge to whom he reported. His gaze flicked in turn over Cole and Tyler and Evan. “I’ll get back to kicking criminal butt tomorrow.”

“Who are you hounding now, Agent Warner?” Evan asked. There was a hint of humor in his voice, but also the tightness of control. Both Tyler and Cole must have heard it, too, because they each cut a sharp glance Evan’s way. I had the impression that Cole was going to say something but thought better of it.

“Whoever the evidence points to,” Kevin said. “Follow the trail long enough, and you find the asshole at the end.”

“Evidence,” Evan said, his tone musing. “I thought you boys stopped worrying about evidence years ago. Isn’t the method now to fling shit and see what sticks?”

“If you’re suggesting that we go to whatever lengths are necessary to gather the evidence that we need,” Kevin said smoothly, “then you’re absolutely right.”

Any pretense of humor in the conversation had now been firmly erased. I winced, remembering too late that the FBI had been all in the trio’s face about five years ago. I’d seen the newspaper articles and had asked Jahn about it. He told me not to worry—that a business rival had made some nasty accusations, but that his knights would have their names cleared soon enough. I’d been deep into finals, and so I’d taken my uncle at his word. And, since nothing else popped up in the news, I forgot all about it.

Clearly Evan hadn’t forgotten, and the air around us crackled with an uncomfortable, prickly kind of tension.

I cleared my throat, determined to change the subject. “How was the hospital dedication?”

“Inconvenient,” Evan snapped. He shoved his hands in his pockets, then drew in a breath, and it didn’t take superhuman observational skills to see he was making an effort to rein in his temper. “Sorry,” he said, his voice now gentle.

He turned slightly, and for the first time since he joined our group, he looked in my direction. “The dedication—hell, the entire wing—means a lot to me and even more to the kids we’re going to be helping, but I needed to be here.” For the briefest of moments, he looked directly into my eyes and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “He was a good man,” Evan said, and the pain I heard in his voice reflected my own. “He’ll be missed.”

“He will,” Kevin said. His voice sounded stiff and stilted, and I had to fight the urge to pull out of his arms, because he didn’t get it. How could he? He didn’t really know my uncle; he didn’t really understand what I’d lost.

I tried to swallow, but my throat was suddenly thick with tears. I clenched my fists, as if mere force of will could keep the grief at bay.

It didn’t help. I felt suddenly lost. There was nowhere to turn, nowhere to anchor, and any moment now I knew I would spin out of control.

Damn.

I’d been doing so well—missing Jahn, yes, but not crossing the line into self-pity. I’d been surviving, and the fact that I was coping had made me proud.

I wasn’t coping anymore. Evan’s coldness had thrown me off my game, and without warning, I’d become antsy and all sorts of fucked up. I wanted to step out of this weird triangle made up of me and Evan and Kevin, but I couldn’t seem to move.

All I knew was that Uncle Jahn had always been my way in. He’d always understood me. He’d always been there to rescue me.

But he wasn’t there right then—and to my total mortification, the tears began to flow.

“Angie,” Evan murmured. “Oh, baby, it’s okay.”

I have no idea how it happened, but suddenly my face was pressed to Evan’s chest and he was holding me and his hand was stroking my back and his voice was soothing me, telling me that I should let it out. That it would be okay. That I would be okay.

I clung to him, soaking up the solace that he was offering. His body was hard and firm and strong, and I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to draw in his strength and claim it as my very own.

But then my nose started to run, and I pulled back, afraid of mucking up his gazillion dollar tux. “Thanks,” I said, or at least I tried to. I don’t think the word actually left my mouth, because when I looked up at him, it wasn’t friendly concern that I saw. No, it was heat. It was desire. Vibrant and pure and absolutely unmistakable.

And it was wild enough to burn a hole right through me.

I gasped, and the sound seemed to flip a switch in him. Then—as quickly as it appeared—that fire was gone, and I was left feeling cold and bereft and desperately confused.

“She needs you,” Evan said, passing me off to Kevin, who took me into his arms even as a shadow crossed his face.

“Didn’t you want to say something to the crowd?” Cole asked, his voice reminding me that he and Tyler were standing just inches away, their penetrating eyes taking in everything.

“I did,” Evan said, his expression now bland and his tone businesslike, as if that could erase those last few seconds. But it was too late, and everything had changed. I’d seen it. Seen? Hell, what I’d seen in his face had just about knocked me over.

But he was walking away from me now, and as I watched him go—as I stood there clinging tightly to Kevin’s hand—I knew that if I wanted him, I was going to have to go after him.

Because where Evan Black and I were concerned, he would always walk away.

And in a moment of sudden clarity, I goddamn knew the reason why.

three

I started my freshman year at Northwestern right about the time that Evan was dropping out, too successful in all of his various ventures to bother with anything as mundane as grad school.

The air seemed scented with lilac that fall, and Jahn had thrown one of his famous parties. Evan was there, of course, flanked as usual by Tyler and Cole. I’d sat with them by the pool, my bare feet dangling in the water as I answered their questions about how I was surviving my first weeks.

The conversation was casual and easy, and I was proud of myself for playing it cool. Or I was until Jahn asked me to go inside with him to pick out a bottle of wine.

“You know that you’re like a daughter to me,” he said, once we were standing in the bright and airy kitchen, looking out at the pool through the huge bay window.

“Sure,” I said happily. Then I caught sight of his face and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, just the tiniest of motions. But the shadow in his eyes suggested something else entirely. “I just hope you know that I would do anything for you. That I’ll protect you from anything and anyone.”

My chest tightened and I felt the beads of perspiration rise on my lip. “What’s going on?” My mind filled with images of knives and threats, of assault and rape. Oh, god, no. Surely—

“No.” Jahn’s voice was as forceful as his hand clutched around my wrist. “No,” he repeated, but this time more gently. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Nothing like that.”

Slowly, my fear ebbed. “Then what is it?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at them, Angie.”

“Them?” For the briefest of moments, I was genuinely confused. Then I got it—and my cheeks flamed with embarrassment.

“Those boys will always look out for you,” he said, ignoring my discomfiture. “They’ll watch over you until the end of time because you’re important to me. But it can’t ever go further than that. Not with any one of them.” His voice had hardened, taking on a commanding and serious tone that I rarely heard from him. “I said I’d protect you,” he said. “Even if that means protecting you from yourself.”

“I don’t know what you—” I began, but he cut me off sharply.

“They’re not the men for you,” he said firmly. He faced me straight on, his expression deadly serious. “And they know that you’re off-limits to them.”

I opened my mouth to say something, then shut it again, because what the hell was I supposed to say? This was totally freaking surreal.

My instinct was to deny, deny, deny. But curiosity got the better of me. “What’s wrong with them?” I asked.

“Not a goddamn thing.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

He turned his back to the window and leaned against the granite counter, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes narrowed, and I felt my posture straightening automatically under his appraising gaze.

He glanced quickly away. “They’re too old for you.”

I almost spit out my laugh. “Seriously? That’s the problem? Daddy’s thirteen years older than Mom, and no one thought that was a big deal.”

When he looked at me, there was something almost wistful in his eyes. “Sarah is special,” he said.

“And I’m not?” I was teasing, sure, but I was also serious. “Evan’s barely six years older than me, and he’s the oldest of all three of them. Come on, Uncle J. What’s really going on here?”

Instead of answering, he grabbed a corkscrew from where it sat on the counter, and went to work on one of the bottles he’d pulled out for the evening. I watched silently, both amused and frustrated, as he poured a glass, took a sip, and then poured another. When he handed the second to me, I had to bite back an insolent smirk. Technically, I was under the drinking age.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and even and tinged with a hint of regret. “When was the last time you’ve seen me with my wife?”

The question was so unexpected that I answered right away. “Not for years.” I hadn’t seen his most recent wife, or any of the parade of previous ones, in ages. I knew they’d all left him, but I’d never known why. And since I’d never gotten close to any of them, I hadn’t ever asked.

“Too many secrets will destroy a relationship,” he said.

“I don’t have any secrets.” Except, of course, I did.

Jahn paused, and for a moment I thought he was going to call me on my lie. But then he nodded, almost casually, as if my words were a given. “Maybe not. But he does. His own, and those he holds for others.”

He.

That one simple word rattled around in my head, making me a little dizzy. Because I knew what it meant. It meant that we weren’t really talking about the trio, but about Evan. About the fact that I wanted him—and that Jahn knew it.

I swallowed, embarrassed but also relieved in a weird way. Jahn knew me—possibly better than anyone else ever did or ever would.

But he was wrong about one thing—secrets didn’t bother me. How could they when I held so many of my own?

Now, as I stood in the open living room of Jahn’s condo and listened to Evan speak to the crowd, it was as if Jahn’s ghost had drawn me, Scrooge-like, back to the past, to see that afternoon all over again. I’d been unsure before, believing that, like his best friends, Evan thought of me like a sister.

I no longer believed that.

Jahn’s lecture that night hadn’t just been about warning me to stay away. He’d been telling me that he’d ordered Evan and Tyler and Cole away, too. And while Cole and Tyler might not find that request to be a burden, I’d seen the heat in Evan’s eyes.

He wanted me, dammit.

He wanted me, and he was too goddamned loyal to my uncle to do anything about it.

“Howard Jahn was a man who loved his life.”

The deep tones of Evan’s voice filled the room, mesmerizing and clear. “In the short time that he was on this earth, he not only lived that life to the fullest, but taught others how to do the same. He changed the lives of so many people, many of whom are standing here tonight. I should know. I’m one of the lucky people that he took under his wing.”

I took my eyes off Evan long enough to examine the crowd. They were as enthralled as I was, caught up in both Evan’s charisma and the words that he was speaking. I watched him—this man who’d made a fortune for himself at such a young age—and understood in that moment how he’d risen to be one of the most influential men in Chicago. Hell, if he were a tent preacher, he could have swindled millions from that crowd.

The only one who didn’t look impressed, in fact, was Kevin. I wasn’t sure if he was still stinging from his smack-down with Evan earlier or if he was picking up on my Evan-lust vibes. But since the latter was enough of a possibility to make my highly-tuned guilt antennae hum, I reached over and took his hand—then felt even more guilty because of my own hypocrisy.

“Howard Jahn taught me a different way of looking at the world. In so many ways, he rescued me, and he never once gave up on me.” He had been looking out over the crowd as he spoke, but now his eyes found mine. “We’re here today to honor his memory,” he continued, with an odd kind of ferocity in his voice. “His memory. His requests. His legacy.”

He paused and the air was so thick between us that it took all my strength just to draw a breath. I’m surprised that every eye in the room wasn’t turned to us, watching the spectacle of the fire that blazed between us. Because it was there. I felt it—I felt it and I wanted to burn in it.

I have no idea what he said next. He must have continued talking, because before I knew it, people were raising glasses in a toast and wiping damp eyes.

The spell that had captured me dissipated, and I watched, breathless, as Evan melted into the crowd. He shook hands with people and accepted consoling pats on his shoulder. He ruled the room, commanding and calm. A steady presence for the mourners to rely on.

And never did he take his eyes off me.

Then he was coming toward me, his gait firm and even, his expression determined. I was only half-aware of Kevin beside me, his fingers still twined with mine. Right then, Evan Black was my entire world. I wanted to feel his touch again. Wanted him to pull me close. To murmur that he knew what I’d lost when Jahn had died.

I wanted him to brush his lips sweetly over mine in consolation, and then to throw all decorum aside and kiss me so wild and hard that grief and regret withered under the heat of our passion.

And it pissed me off royally that it wasn’t going to happen because of a promise he made to a dead man.

I’m not sure what I was trying to prove, but I spun around and folded myself into Kevin’s arms.

“What—”

I cut him off with a kiss that started out awkward and weird, but then Kevin must have decided I needed this. That my grief had sent me over the wall and into the land of rampant public displays of affection.

His hand cupped the back of my head as his mouth claimed mine. As far as kissing was concerned, Kevin definitely got an A. Empirically, he was everything a girl should want, and yet I wasn’t satisfied. I wasn’t even close. There was no heat, no burn. No butterflies in my stomach, no longing for more. On the contrary, all Kevin’s kiss did was make me more aware of the void inside me. A hunger—a craving—that I couldn’t seem to satisfy no matter how much I wanted to.

Evan, I thought, and was shocked by the desperate longing that went along with those two small syllables. Somehow the tight grip I’d kept on my desire all these years had come loose. It was as if my grief had shoved me over the cliff, and for the first time in forever, I wished I could just erase Evan Black from my mind. I felt out of control. Frenzied and reckless.

And for a girl like me, that’s never a good place to be.

When Kevin broke our kiss and pulled away from me, all I wanted to do was pull him back again. To kiss him until we broke through my resolve. Until we created a fire out of friction if nothing else. Because I needed that. I needed to get clear. I needed to lose myself in him until the blazing heat that was Evan Black was reduced to nothing more substantial than a burn across my heart.

But that, I knew, was never going to happen.

Kevin’s palm cupped my cheek, his smile gentle. “Sweetheart, you look ripped to pieces.”

I nodded. I was. Just not for the reason Kevin thought.

I glanced around the room, searching out Evan. Wanting to know that he’d seen. Wanting him to be as twisted and tied up in knots as I was.

But he wasn’t even there.

“Angelina, my dear, the young waitress said I might find you in here. It’s so good to see you again, even under such sad circumstances.”

The Southern-smooth voice rolled over me, and I grimaced. I’d escaped to the kitchen—which was technically off limits to guests—with the hope of squeezing out just one tiny little moment alone. Apparently, that wasn’t going to happen.

Forcing a political-daughter smile onto my face, I turned away from the counter and greeted Edwin Mulberry, a congressman from either Alabama or Mississippi or some other state that most definitely wasn’t the Midwest.

“Congressman Mulberry. What a pleasure,” I lied. I willed my smile wider. “I didn’t realize you knew my uncle.”

He had silver hair and an audience-ready smile that I only half-believed was genuine. “Your uncle was an amazing man,” he said. “Very well connected. When I spoke to your father yesterday and he told me he couldn’t be here, I knew I had to come by.”

“I appreciate that,” I said. Mulberry was a representative with an eye on the Senate, and though my father was still on his first six-year term, he had forged powerful allies, including several who had started tossing his name around as a potential vice presidential candidate. I didn’t need to rely on my poli sci degree to realize that Mulberry was more interested in getting in good with the flavor of the month than he was in paying his respects to my uncle.

“It’s been what? Almost five years since I’ve seen you? I have to say, you’ve grown into quite the lovely young woman.”

“Thank you,” I said, managing to keep my smile bright though it had become significantly harder. “It’s been almost eight,” I added, unable to help myself. I’d seen Mulberry last at my sister’s funeral, and the memory of that day bumped up against the one I was currently living in a way that made me feel cold and hollow.

I hugged myself tight, trying to remember all my various bits of social training, but now feeling too lost to make small talk. “Well,” I said, and then just let the word hang there, suddenly unable to come up with a single thing to say.

It was Evan who rescued me.

“Congressman Mulberry?” The older man turned to Evan, who stood in the doorway looking as dark and mysterious as still water at midnight. “There’s a young woman out there looking for you. She seems very anxious to speak to you.”

“Is there?” The congressman perked up, his hand rising to straighten his tie as I bit back a grin.

“Long blond hair, short black dress.” He moved into the kitchen to stand near us. “She was heading into the library as I left her.”

“Well,” Mulberry said. He turned to me. “My dear, it’s been a pleasure, but if this young woman is a constituent, I should go see what she has on her mind.”

“Of course,” I said. “It was lovely seeing you again. Thank you for coming.”

As soon as he was out the door, I turned to Evan. “You are a very smooth liar.”

“Apparently not as smooth as I thought if you found me out so easily.”

“Maybe I just know you too well,” I quipped.

He looked at me for a moment, then took a single step closer. My breath hitched and my pulse began to pick up tempo, and when he reached out an arm toward me I stood perfectly still, anticipating a touch that never came—it wasn’t me he was reaching for, but a bottle of wine.

Idiot, idiot, idiot. But at least I could breathe easy again.

“Too well?” he said, as he poured a glass of pinot noir and passed it to me. “Does that mean you’ve figured out all my secrets?”

Our fingers brushed as I took the wine from him, and I shivered from the spark of connection that seemed to shoot through me, all the way from my fingers to the very tips of my toes.

I saw the quick flash of awareness in his eyes and wanted to kick myself. Because it wasn’t me that knew his secrets—it was the other way around. And damned if I didn’t feel confused and exposed and vulnerable.

“Secrets?” I repeated. I stood up straighter, determined to snatch back some measure of control. “Like the mystery behind why you’ve barely said two words to me all night? Why you’ve looked everywhere but me?”

He tilted his head as if considering my words, then he poured his own glass of wine and took a long, slow sip. “I’m looking at you now.”

I swallowed. He damn sure was. His cloudy gray eyes were fixed on my face, and I saw the tension in his body, as if he was fighting the coming violence of a storm.

Against my better judgment, I took a drink of my own wine. Yes, I needed a clear head for tonight, but right then I needed courage more. “You are,” I agreed. “What do you see?”

“A beautiful woman,” he said, his tone making my heart flutter as much as his words. “A beautiful woman,” he continued, “who needs to take a step back and think about what the hell she’s doing and why she’s doing it.”

“Excuse me?” His tone had shifted only slightly, but it was enough to totally erase that flutter. “Excuse me?” I repeated, because he had so completely flummoxed me that I couldn’t seem to conjure any other words.

“You’ve had a hard time of it, Angie,” he said. “You deserve to be happy.”

I twirled the stem of my wineglass between my fingers as I tried to figure out his angle. Was he about to tell me that he could make me happy? The thought sent a small tingle of anticipation running through me, but I didn’t believe it. He was too hot and cold, too confusing. And I wasn’t going to figure out what the hell he was thinking unless I flat-out asked.

“What makes you think I’m not happy?”

He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I get why you’re dating Warner,” he said. “Political father. FBI agent boyfriend. It all fits. It all makes sense. The perfect daughter piece in the picture perfect puzzle that makes up your life.”

I’d gone completely tense, my throat tight, my chest heavy. I felt like a walking target that he’d just skewered with a dead-on bull’s-eye.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Kevin’s wonderful,” I said tightly, determined not to let him see that his barb had hit home.

“No,” Evan said. We were still standing next to the counter in the kitchen, completely alone except for the few waiters who wandered in to refill their trays. Now he moved a step closer, and I swore I could feel the thrum of the air molecules buzzing between us. “For someone, maybe. But he’s not for you.”

“What would you know about it?” I’d intended to sound indignant. I didn’t even come close.

“I know enough,” he said, closing the distance between us even more. “I know you need a man who’s strong enough to anchor you. A man who understands what you need, in bed and out of it.” A deliciously sexy smile eased across his mouth. “You need a man who can just look at you and get you hot. And, Angie,” he said, “I also know that Kevin Warner isn’t that man.”

Oh, my. Perspiration beaded on the back of my neck. My breathing was shallow, my pulse fast. I felt hyperaware of my body. Of the tiny hairs standing up on my arms. Of the needful, demanding feeling in my legs. I was wet—I was certain of it. And all I wanted right then was Evan’s hands upon me.

It took a massive force of will to manage words, and even more strength to look him in the eyes. “If not Kevin, then who?” I asked, but the question that remained unspoken was, “You?”

He reached out and tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ear, the soft brush of his finger against my skin just about melting me. “I guess that’s something you’ll have to figure out.”