Though she couldn’t see his face, she knew who her mystery mechanic was. Her heart leapt with joy. She was being given a second chance to be foolish, and she was deliriously happy.
She grabbed up the receiver. “Uh, never mind. The problem with my car seems to have taken care of itself.” She hung up and ran out of her office, not even bothering to explain to Terri where she was going in such a hurry as she sped past the receptionist’s desk.
Angela paused at the exterior door to catch her breath. What was she going to say? It might pay to be prepared, to have a plan so she wouldn’t fly by the seat of her pants like last night.
She would be completely in control this time. That was her plan. She wouldn’t let him lead her into anything she wasn’t ready for.
The question remained, though—what exactly was she ready for?
You’ve never felt carried away by the moment? Terri’s question at lunch the other day haunted Angela. She’d remained a virgin all these years because she’d never been faced with a compelling enough reason to change her status. Was this bad-boy Good Samaritan her compelling reason?
Maybe. But she absolutely was not going to rush into anything. She would get to know him first, find out exactly what sort of person he was.
Squaring her shoulders, she emerged from the building and walked resolutely into the parking lot. She approached the man quietly, because she wanted the element of surprise on her side, but somehow he sensed her sneaking up on him. He straightened and turned, a lazy smile brightening his foreboding features.
“Good morning.”
“Hi,” she returned. For the first time, she felt a bit irritated with his high-handedness. She hadn’t given him permission to work on her car. “How did you get my hood open?”
“I have my ways.”
Ye gods. Her stomach fluttered. He looked good this morning in black jeans and a dark green cotton shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Overlooking that, it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to cease and desist, that she would take care of her own car, thank you very much.
But he spoke again. “I think I have the problem fixed. Want to give it a try?”
The driver’s door was already unlocked. As he closed the hood, she slid behind the wheel and felt around for the spare key she kept under the floor mat. Yes, there it was. She cranked the ignition, and the car started up immediately, the engine humming smoothly. In truth, it sounded a lot better than it had in months.
She shut it off and got out again. “What did you do to it?”
“Fixed the distributor. There were some, er, loose connections. Then I tuned it up. You need an oil change.”
“Thanks very much,” she said, meaning it. She’d had several unexpected expenses the past couple of months, and she couldn’t really afford a big car repair bill. “Can I pay you for your trouble?”
“Consider it a favor between friends.”
“We aren’t friends,” she was quick to point out. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Vic. Vic Steadman.”
Finally. She repeated the name several times in her head, trying to decide if it suited him. It was a sturdy-sounding name. What had she been expecting, something scary? Blade Black, maybe, or Dirk Danger?
“Okay, Vic.” She shook hands with him, which seemed silly after the steamy kiss they’d shared last night. Then again, this guy could make a handshake an erotic experience.
He gathered up a few tools he’d left on the ground and stuck them into the storage compartment on the back of his cycle. “If you really want to reward me for my hard work,” he said, “I can think of ways that don’t involve cash.”
She gasped at his audacity.
“Have dinner with me,” he added quickly before she could stomp off in a snit.
“I have to work late again,” she said, almost grateful for the excuse. She wasn’t ready for an entire evening alone with him.
“We’ll make it a late dinner.”
“How about lunch instead?” she hedged. Lunch seemed much less threatening. They could talk, get to know each other—
“I’ll pick you up at ten tonight.”
She would have protested, but he looked at her with such utter confidence that her objections withered. This was a man used to getting his way.
Without another word he left, climbing on board his cycle and rumbling off with a careless wave in her direction.
All right, so he was an alpha male. Such men made good leaders. They ran corporations and governments. They usually had all the women they could handle. One thing they didn’t do was make good husbands, not for a woman who believed in equality between the sexes, mutual sharing and all that.
“He doesn’t want to marry you,” Angela grumbled to herself. If she took this thing any further, she had to face the fact that this was a man to enjoy fabulous sex with. Any further expectations on her part would be ludicrous.
She wasn’t the type of person to have a fling. At least, she’d never been before. But maybe mind-blowing sex was something she ought to experience before she settled down to marriage, home and family, which she intended to do sometime in the next few years. Her friends certainly waxed enthusiastically about their various liaisons.
Talk about food for thought.
VIC HAD THE DAY OFF, but he stopped by the station to pick up his paycheck. Then out of habit he checked the bulletin board. The scores from the recent sergeant’s exam, which Vic had taken, were still posted. He’d made a ninety-eight out of one hundred, the highest score of everybody who’d sat for the test. Just seeing that score after his name gave him a lift.
After the test he’d gone in for a personal assessment, interviewing with various people, and apparently he’d aced it. Rumor had it he was number one on “the list.” Next time a sergeant’s spot opened up, the promotion was his. He’d been a senior corporal for almost four years, and it was about damn time.
His mood deflated somewhat when he ran into Bobby Ray, who’d drawn desk duty while he recuperated from his injuries. Vic hadn’t thought about what he would tell his partner about the previous night, but he doubted it would be the truth. He had no intention of turning a tomcat like Bobby loose on Angela. The woman was hot, in her own sweet way, and Vic intended to keep her all to himself. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had made him hard just standing there looking at him.
“Hey, buddy!” Bobby called to him from the bullpen.
Damn. “I’m in kind of a hurry, Bobby.”
“Just tell me how it went last night. Phoebe said this woman was hot looking but a real prude. Well, she didn’t use those words, but I read between the lines.”
Vic hesitated, then walked over to Bobby’s temporary desk so everyone in the place couldn’t overhear. “She wasn’t bad.” He didn’t plan what he would say next. The words just poured out, seemingly of their own accord. “Her teeth were hardly noticeable as long as she kept her mouth closed.”
“Teeth?”
“Oh, I guess Phoebe didn’t tell you. Our gal’s got quite an overbite. But it’s kind of endearing, really.”
“What about the rest of her? I mean, there’s always a paper bag.” Bobby guffawed, but Vic didn’t join in.
“She’s