That shock was nothing compared to his own surprise at the harsh words that had spilled from his lips, catching him unaware.
“You have no right.”
“I have every right. I’m trying to keep you and your partners safe and you’re not taking this seriously.”
“Seriously?” She snapped the water off with a hard twist and grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “I’m not the one back here making eyes at our caterer.”
“What?”
Lilah whirled, the irritation in her voice punctuating the gesture. “You heard me. I realize she’s an attractive woman, but you couldn’t wait to flirt all over Gabby.”
Whatever self-righteous anger had carried him this far faded in the face of her resentment.
And a sudden awareness of just why she was upset.
“I wasn’t flirting with your caterer. I can’t say the same for her.”
“Just because she looks like a supermodel doesn’t mean she deserves to be objectified.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Her mouth was already open to keep on arguing when she snapped it closed at his agreement.
Without checking the impulse, Reed leaned in, delighted when those dark eyes went wide and round once more. “But I don’t think that’s why you’re upset.”
“It’s anger for my friend.”
“Oh, really.” He took a moment to just breathe her in, the light scent of sugar that hovered around her simply intoxicating.
“Of course.”
He pressed a light kiss to her cheek before dropping another along the line of her jaw. “It wouldn’t be jealousy?”
Whatever initial acceptance she might have had in the moment vanished. “It’s most certainly not that. And why don’t you ratchet down that swelled head while you’re at it?”
Reed couldn’t stop the smile, especially now that he was virtually high on the scents of vanilla and warm sugar, coupled with the cream puffs that were still humming in his veins.
Could sugar really make someone reckless?
“I wasn’t the one who called myself Detective Yummy.”
“That was—” She broke off. “Gabby was just being funny.”
“Consider me amused.”
Awareness filled her dark gaze and in that moment Reed felt something shift deep inside of him. He knew what it was to want—to need—but the look in Lilah Castle’s eyes was something more.
In her gaze he saw the desperate craving of someone who knew what they wanted yet were afraid to let go.
On sheer instinct, he closed the distance once more and dragged her small, slight frame against his own. At the actual feel of her—muscle, sinew and bone under his hands—he realized his initial estimation was spot-on.
She was a pixie.
As his lips came over hers, her head already tilted up to meet him, he amended that thought. She might be small—a mere slip in his hands—but she had a woman’s curves and a woman’s needs.
The instinct that pushed him on was greeted with full acceptance and he groaned as she opened her mouth, an invitation to deepen the kiss.
The moment was hot—desperate—and he took full advantage.
Heat radiated off her, through the thin material of her sweater. One of his hands was large enough to cover nearly the entire span of her back while the other drifted down toward her derriere, pulling her close.
Her hands gripped his waist, her fingers restless at the waistband of his slacks, and he saw a wash of stars when her stomach bumped hard against his groin.
What had begun as impulse—and a deep need to finally taste her—had turned on him, and Reed felt himself fast losing control. With one last rush of teeth and lips and tongue, he took advantage of the moment and deepened the kiss, lingering over her luscious mouth with satisfying urgency.
Then he pulled away and added a few steps of distance for good measure. As he took in the passion-glazed gaze and soft color high on her cheeks, Reed came to a startling realization.
He was wrong.
Her cream puffs weren’t the best thing he’d ever tasted. Lilah Castle was.
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