“Here is fine.” She leaned against the driver’s-side door, facing him. “It’s just that this story is kind of embarrassing and I didn’t want anyone to overhear.”
“The suspense is killing me.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, though what he really wanted to do was hold her again.
She fiddled with a row of beads on her key chain. “In two days, my grandmother Pettigrew is coming to San Antonio for the sole purpose of finding a husband for me.”
He chuckled. “You’re not serious.”
“Serious as a heart attack. G.P. has decided it’s time I was married and once she makes a decision, there’s no stopping her.”
“Where do I come in?” He stood up straighter. “Not as the potential groom?”
“No!” She dropped the keys and stooped to retrieve them, but he got them first.
He returned the keys to her. “No bridegroom.”
She nodded. “No, but I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend, just for a few days. You could come to the barbecue we’re having in her honor.” She met his gaze again. “Once she meets you, she’ll realize her services aren’t needed.”
So she wanted him, but only long enough to fool her grandmother. Should he be insulted, or pleased? A man with more pride would probably tell her to find some other guy for her charade.
But a man with more pride would end up alone. Why not take the chance to spend more time with the woman fate had sent his way?
“What’s in it for me?” he asked.
“The chance to do a good deed? Free barbecue?”
He shook his head.
She frowned. “What do you want?”
“I want you to give me a chance to prove that a cop can be relationship material. That whatever opinion you’ve formed about me is wrong.”
“You won’t change my mind.”
“Oh, but I’ll enjoy the challenge.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “After this is over, go out with me again. Not just to pull one over on your grandmother, but on a real date. For yourself.”
She looked away, her lips in a tight line. He could almost see her weighing the pros and cons of his proposal. But where was she going to find another guy to agree to her crazy plan on such short notice? She must have reached the same conclusion. “All right. I guess I can do that.”
“Good. Then what say we start right this minute?”
She looked wary. “How?”
“With a good-night kiss.”
Her eyes widened in surprise as he brought his lips to hers. He slipped his arms around her, pressing her tightly against his chest, stroking her back in a soothing motion as his mouth teased away her resistance.
He kissed the corners of her mouth and traced his tongue along the seam of her lips, then bent to kiss the tender flesh of her throat, her skin like satin against his tongue. He returned to her mouth, sucking gently at her lips, every sensitive nerve of his own mouth alive to her.
Triumph filled him as she melted against him, and her lips parted. She tasted of the wine they’d shared and smelled of exotic flowers. And she felt…God, she felt like heaven. He moved his hand to her waist, bringing her closer against his erection. He wanted her to know how she affected him. Instead of drawing away, she pressed into him, her hands on his back, fingers digging in.
Somewhere nearby, a car door slammed, making him aware that they were in a public place. Reluctantly, he drew away, and tried to catch his breath.
She leaned back against the car, eyes glazed, lips swollen and slightly parted, hair mussed. She truly looked like a woman in need of a man now, and given the slightest encouragement, he’d have been happy to oblige. He clenched his fists, hoping she wouldn’t see his hands shaking.
He saw the moment reason returned to her, watched her face pale and her eyes widen. She straightened and smoothed her hands over her hair, down her dress. “I…I’d better go.” She turned and fumbled with her keys, missing the door lock completely.
He stepped forward and took them from her hand, opened the door for her, then leaned in and fit the key in the ignition. “Maybe you’d better sit here a minute before you drive home,” he said.
She slid into the driver’s seat and shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”
He wished she’d look at him. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Listen, I didn’t mean for things to get so carried away just now.”
She nodded, still avoiding his eyes.
“But I think maybe it means something. Maybe we’re not such a bad match after all.”
“I think you shouldn’t read more into this than there is, Mr. Sullivan.” She turned the key in the ignition, starting the engine. “Unlike you, I don’t believe in fate.”
He had to leap back as she slammed the door. Then she sped out of the parking lot, in violation of half a dozen traffic laws. He stared after her, then started to chuckle. Oh, she was a pistol all right. He was going to enjoy proving to her how wrong she was about fate. And about them.
2
JONI WOKE the next morning from a restless sleep, thinking of Carter. How was it possible for a man she scarcely knew to disturb her so? Surely she’d never met anyone who infuriated her more. Take that whole business of him paying for dinner. Fragile male ego—hah! He was about as fragile as a concrete wall.
And that kiss—that incredible, mind-blowing kiss. He’d just assumed she’d wanted him to kiss her. Yeah, so she’d enjoyed the kiss. It probably ranked among the top five kisses she’d received in her lifetime. Maybe even number one. That kiss had lit up every nerve in her body like Fourth of July fireworks.
But that was beside the point. Any woman would be physically attracted to a man like Carter. She still knew better than to get involved with him. After all, he was a cop. A man addicted to the power trip of being an authority figure and hooked on the danger rush that went along with the badge. A man who would leave a wife and children at home while he went out the door every day to put his life on the line. Not the kind of man she wanted as a husband and father to her children.
He’d spouted all that nonsense about fate. She didn’t believe in fate. A person had to be responsible for her own life. Make her own choices. Something she’d been trying to tell G.P. since she was ten years old and her grandmother had made her take those stupid dance lessons.
She sighed. Okay, maybe they weren’t so stupid. Maybe it would be nice to learn to dance. But because she wanted to, not because G.P. or anybody else thought it was a good idea.
You sound like a two-year-old. Her conscience jabbed her, and she frowned at her face in the bathroom mirror. It was too early in the morning to grapple with her conscience. A grown woman ought to be able to declare her independence without sounding like a toddler. The point was, she didn’t, didn’t, didn’t want to get involved with a man like Carter Sullivan.
Which took her back to the problem of what to do about G.P. and her plans to see her granddaughter happily married. She wrestled with this dilemma while she munched down a bowl of cereal and packed her lunch. By the time she arrived at work, she knew she had only one real choice.
She found the number for the San Antonio Police Department in the phone book and asked to speak to Officer Carter Sullivan. The operator transferred her to the patrol sergeant. “Officer Sullivan isn’t in right now,” the sergeant told her. “Can I help you with something?”
“No, I…can I leave a message for him?”
“I can put you through to his voice