Читать книгу The Object of His Protection - Brenda Jackson - Страница 10

Charlene glanced out the window and wondered for the umpteenth time why she had given Drey her address instead of meeting him somewhere. What had happened to her “do not mix business with pleasure” rule?

She was used to seeing him in a business setting, but now he would invade her personal space. The only consolation was that since he was dropping something off she wouldn’t have to invite him inside.

Satisfied with that, she glanced down at herself. Okay, so she had decided to change out of the frayed pair of shorts and T-shirt she had put on after coming home into a skirt and blouse. No big deal. It wasn’t as though he would see her in them. It was dark outside and all she had to do was poke her head out the door to get whatever he had to give her. Again, no big deal. She sighed deeply, thinking she was definitely making a lot out of things she considered to be no big deal.

When she heard a car door slam, her breath caught and for a moment she didn’t move. She inhaled deeply, trying to control her racing pulse. There was no reason to get nervous and jittery. Drey St. John wasn’t the first guy to come to her house…but she had to admit he was the first one in over a year, if you didn’t count the serviceman who dropped by a few weeks ago to take a look at her computer when it had gone on the blink.

She didn’t want to think about Carlos Hollis, the guy she had dated nearly two years ago. They had met at one of those financial seminars and she had taken him up on his offer to go somewhere for drinks afterward. They ended up going on a couple of dates after that, and when he began hinting that he wanted to sleep with her, she felt it was only fair to let him know up front that she was a virgin. He informed her that most guys were turned off by any virgin over the age of twenty-two, and to prove his point he never called her again.

Charlene heard the knock on the door and for a brief moment she contemplated not answering, which made absolutely no sense. There is simply no reason for you to be nervous, she told herself firmly as she headed toward the door. She reached for the doorknob and paused before turning it, convinced that even through the thickness of the wood that separated them she could breathe in Drey’s scent. At least it was the scent that she always associated with him, robust and definitely manly. Drawing in a deep breath, she opened the door slightly and saw how the glow from the porch light lit his handsome features before she acknowledged him. “Drey.”

“You shouldn’t have opened the door until you were absolutely sure it was me, Charlie.”

She thought about closing the door on him but decided she was a lot more mature than that. Instead, she opened it a little wider to place her arms across her chest and glare at him, or at least she tried to while attempting to downplay the heated sensations flowing through her. “The name is Charlene and I knew it was you.”

“And how did you know that? I note you don’t have a peephole in your door.”

There was no way she would tell him that his scent had been a dead giveaway for her. “I just did. Now, if you don’t mind, please give me what you drove all the way over here to deliver.” She reached out her hand.

Instead of placing anything in her hand, he took her hand into his and looked at it. The moment he touched her she felt a slow sizzle move up her spine and she kept her body still, not to let him know the effect of his touch.

“You have pretty hands, Charlie.”

She tensed at the compliment before pulling her hands from him. “Thanks, and how many times do I need to remind you that it’s Charlene?”

Drey then glanced back at her and noted her stance and felt his temperature rise. There was just enough light from the lamppost to see her outfit. The skirt and blouse looked cute. No, they looked exquisite, in a subtle sort of way. His gaze moved down to her long, shapely legs.

His eyes met hers then as he decided he owed her an explanation for his intense scrutiny just now. “This is the first time I’ve seen you without a lab coat and you look different.”

She lifted an arched brow. “Different how?”

“Different as in nice. Not that you didn’t look nice before, mind you.” Nice was too mild a word but he felt it would be out of place for him to say anything else. He doubted he could ever call her Charlie again without thinking how much like Charlene she now looked.

Whenever he dropped by the coroner’s office she would be sitting behind her desk and wearing her lab coat with her hair twisted on top of her head in a ball. Now she was standing up and wearing a skirt and blouse with a mass of long light brown hair flowing around her shoulders. In his opinion the entire package was sexy.

Desire flowed hot and heavy through his veins and he downplayed his rapid breathing when he said, “So, what’s a nice-looking girl like you doing home on a night like tonight? Why don’t you have a date?”

Charlene’s glare deepened. It was the same question her mother had asked her when she’d called earlier tonight. Nina Anderson-Smallwood-Caldwell-Olson actually thought a woman’s life centered on a man. But after four marriages Charlene wasn’t surprised her mother would think that. Her father was just as bad with wife number three. Since her parents seemed happy with their lives, she left them alone to do as they pleased and reminded them of their pledge on her twenty-first birthday to do likewise with her.

“I don’t have a date because I don’t want a date, so now give me the wax kit before I change my mind,” she said, extending her hand back to him, hoping he didn’t pull what he had before and take her hand again. His touch evoked feelings within her, unfamiliar feelings, feelings she could very well do without. When she was around him, a keen physical yearning seem to overtake her common sense, but she always fought to ignore it.

“Okay, here,” he said, placing the item in her hand. She glanced down at it. He was right. It did resemble a small makeup compact.

“You want me to show you how to use it?”

She looked up at him. Was he looking for any excuse to come inside? She immediately dissed the thought. Why should he? Besides, she was certain she wasn’t his type anyway. “No, I think I can handle it. It should be easy.”

“It is. But even if it weren’t I have a feeling you’d be able to handle it. In fact, Charlene Anderson, I think you can handle just about anything and anyone.”

Another compliment—one laced with sexual innuendo? Or was she imagining things? Letting her mind jump to all kinds of conclusions? No, she decided after looking into his eyes, she wasn’t imagining things. She might be a virgin but she wasn’t naive. They had a routine of giving each other a hard time, but she was smart enough to recognize the sexual tension that existed between them.

Even now.

Was he throwing out a challenge? Could she handle him? She wanted to wrap her arms around herself to ward off the yearning she felt, but then she quickly decided that she had a right to experience these things. She was a woman, after all, and Drey was definitely a man who could make an impression on a woman. She didn’t know any female who wouldn’t be affected by the sheer maleness of him. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Both showed off an ultrafine body, one that probably spent a lot of time in a gym messing around with all kinds of machinery with the sole purpose of staying in shape. She could tell that whatever clothes he wore he was well-toned and filled them out with masculine perfection.

She suddenly felt the need to retreat, instinctively aware of a need to protect herself from him and from the things he was making her feel. But then another part of her wanted to explore those feelings, to discover—up to a point—all the things she hadn’t experienced yet. Was she prepared for such a discovery?

“If you’re certain I don’t need to show you anything, I’ll be going.”

His words flowed through her mind, and her body picked up on the sensuality that laced his words. Again she wondered if she was imagining things. She studied his eyes. The slant in their shape made them look sexy and—Was that desire she saw in their dark depths? She shook her head, certain she was imagining things now. But then…

“Would you like to come inside for a drink, Drey?”

She inwardly flinched at the question, sure he had been asked that a thousand times by different women. He probably recognized it as the old “hit” line it was, one that had played out years ago, and was likely wondering if that was the best she could do. Unfortunately, it was. She didn’t want to give the impression that she was anywhere close to being promiscuous or an easy mark, because she was far from it.

“I’d love to come in and share a drink with you, Charlene.”

It hadn’t gone unnoticed that he had called her Charlene this time instead of Charlie. His words, spoken in what she thought was an overly sexy tone, reeled in her thoughts and caused her to focus once again on his eyes. He was staring at her intensely, as if she was a puzzle he was determined to figure out. The thought bothered her until she felt surprised he was even taking the time to do so.

On their own accord her eyes then lowered to his mouth. When she thought of that mouth pressed against hers, a warm sensation flowed low in her belly.

Without saying anything, she took a step back inside the house and he followed.

Drey found himself drawn to Charlene’s alluring sensuality as he stepped across the threshold into her home. With each step he took he felt something happening to him, something that could be perilous to his well-being as well as to his state of mind. Yet he was at a loss to stop it even with all the caution signs flashing at him.

He was used to women inviting him inside their homes with all kinds of intent and had always been careful to make sure it wasn’t a setup of the worst kind. When it came to his sex life he maintained control. There was never a discussion on the matter. He chose his bed partners as meticulously and carefully as he chose anything else. He wasn’t one to take anyone lightly. He could spot ulterior motives a mile away, and with the keen sense of a man who could most times read a woman like a book, he could figure out—even long before they could—if they wanted him.

Charlene wanted him but for what reason he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even certain if she knew. There was something about her, something about her invitation to come in for a drink that made him smile. Most women he knew just came right out and asked at the end of the date, “Would you like to come in for sex?” They didn’t beat around the bush about anything and usually by the time the door closed behind him they had stripped naked.

He glanced across the room at Charlene. She was fully clothed and the thought flitted through his mind that he would give anything to see her naked. Seeing her without her lab coat was an eye-opener. Removing her clothes was a boner just waiting to happen. Even now he could feel desire flowing through him. Heated lust that was increasing the flow to his brain up north and a certain other body part down south. Whether Charlene knew it or not, she was an extremely desirable woman. Why had she kept it hidden?

“So, what would you like?”

Her words pulled in his thoughts and immediately a vision flashed across his mind. Sexual imagery, hot and enticing, shot through his brain and threatened to short-circuit his nerve endings.

“What would I like?” he asked, shooting the question back at her, pausing to fully enunciate, sensually articulate every single word. He watched her tense as she realized she had unintentionally set herself up for that one.

She tilted her head at an angle he thought was sexy and glared at him. “What would you like to drink?”

He smiled, tempted to tell her sipping on her would satisfy him rather nicely, but decided not to do so. He might be wrong, way off base, but he had a feeling she was trying to downplay a certain innocence about her, while at the same time trying to prove something. What? And to whom?

“I’ll take anything you have,” he finally got around to answering. “But I prefer a beer if you have one.”

She nodded. “Yes, I have one. I’ll be back in a second.”

He heard panic in her voice and when she left the room he shook his head. Did she think he would pounce on her the first chance he got? She had been the one to invite him in.

He smiled thinking he might not pounce on her right away, but he intended to kiss her before he left. For a long time he had wondered how her lips tasted and he intended to find out tonight. Her lips had always intrigued him, had always turned him on even when they had been discussing dead bodies.

Dead bodies.

He remembered one in particular. Joe Dennis. His concentration should be focused on working his investigation and not working Charlene. He sucked in air, trying to get a grip. Instead he got a whiff of Charlene’s scent. It was all over the place. Jasmine.

He moved to the center of the room and looked around. She had a cozy place, nicely decorated, not overly furnished and crowded. It looked lived-in in a feminine way with splashes of pastel colors blended with the boldness of some darker shades. He noted that her preference in style leaned toward Early American while his remained staunchly Asian. He thought it was an interesting contrast.

“Sorry I took so long.”

He turned to face Charlene and swallowed hard, while fighting back the sensations that suddenly engulfed him. Compared to him she seemed to be a tiny thing, no taller than five three if that. His six-four height seemed to all but tower over her. And then there was the way she filled out her skirt and blouse. She was just as shapely up top as she was around the hips. Usually, he didn’t make a habit out of sizing up a woman’s breasts, but with the way hers filled her blouse he couldn’t help doing so. He had seen her many times, but because of the way she normally wore her hair, he hadn’t noticed the red highlights in her hair and what they did to her medium brown complexion.

“No problem,” he answered as he took the beer bottle from her, deciding he needed to remember the reason he was there and take care of it and leave. There was no need wasting time thinking about how good she looked or just how delicious he figured she would taste. He had an important case to solve and didn’t have time for anything else, especially anything involving a woman.

“You have a nice place,” he said before popping the cap off the beer bottle and taking a long, needed gulp. It immediately quenched his thirst but did nothing to wipe away his desire. He had focused on her mouth too many times not to know a sampling of her taste was what he really needed.

“Thanks. It’s just right for me. Not too big and not too small.”

It was then that Drey noticed she hadn’t grabbed a beer for herself. “You aren’t drinking anything?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t drink much.”

He licked his lips, aware more than ever of her femininity. And just to think seeing her without a lab coat and wearing regular clothes could have this sort of effect. “So, what else don’t you do, Charlie?” There, he figured calling her by the name she disliked would get her dander up and put back up the space he wanted between them. Thinking of tasting her all over wasn’t a good thing.

Charlene glared at him and said, “I definitely don’t do guys who can’t seem to get my name right.”

Too late Charlene was aware of how that sounded, which was pretty bad considering she’d never done a guy at all. But Drey didn’t know that. The way his brows rose indicated he was evidently intrigued by her statement.

“So,” he said, dragging out the single word and looking at her with those deep, dark, slanted eyes that made heat stir in the pit of her stomach. “Do you do guys who get your name right?”

Charlene’s glare deepened. The last thing she would admit to him was that she didn’t do guys at all. Carlos’s abrupt departure proved what guys thought of overaged virgins. “That’s none of your business.”

He placed the beer bottle on the table beside him before taking a step closer to her. The heat she felt earlier intensified into a hot flame. “And what if I were to tell you, Charlene, that I intend to make it my business?”

Charlene swallowed. He had taken that step with such confidence and style that if she didn’t know herself as well as she did, she would be tempted to believe him, especially with the way he said her name whenever he did get it right. She hadn’t realized just how close he was standing until she tilted her head and met his gaze, trying to ignore the strong, masculine shoulders the top of her head barely hit. “If you were to tell me that, Drey, then I would warn you that you would do better sticking to solving your cases since you have a better chance there,” she said, not wavering when she looked into his eyes.

A smile touched his lips and she knew he didn’t intend to heed her warning. “Are you saying that I don’t have a chance with you?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. She’d had enough of his game playing. “Do you honestly think I’m gullible enough to believe that you even want one?”

She gasped when suddenly she was pulled into his strong arms and her body was pressed against his hard, solid frame. She thought she would melt right then and there when his eyes bored down at her. Why did he always manage to get such a strong reaction from her?

“There’s nothing gullible about it, Charlene,” he said, leaning down just inches from her lips. “It’s what most people call sexual attraction. We got it. We’ve had it from the first. Now the big question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” She whispered the word from lips that suddenly felt dry.

“I disagree,” he said, smiling confidently with a challenging glint in his eyes.

And then his mouth swooped down on hers, snatching her next breath and replacing it with a demanding, hot mouth. She heard herself moan and tried not to return his kiss but found herself doing so anyway. The moment his tongue touched hers, she could swear her panties got wet. And she was certain that the room was moving. His kiss, intense and deep, was leading her down a road she didn’t know. All she knew was that he was taking her mouth with an expertise that had her following, no matter where he led.

Of their own accord she felt her arms wrap around his neck. Lifting her arms caused the tips of her breasts to press deep into his chest. It was as if the material of his T-shirt served as no barrier at all and for all her breasts cared, she was touching bare skin. The touch inflamed her nipples and sent a heated, electrifying charge all the way to the juncture of her thighs. She didn’t want to think about that. In fact, she didn’t want to think at all. She didn’t. She let his mouth have its way, while hers did the same.

Drey deepened the kiss thinking it had been long in coming and was bound to happen sooner or later. He was grateful it was now. He had so much drama going on in his life, disappointments and confusion about a lot of things concerning his birth. But he wasn’t confused about this, the way his mouth had latched on to Charlene’s, or the enjoyment he was getting from tasting her this way. In his book, she tasted pretty damn good. Too good. Her mouth was a temptation he’d better walk away from here and now. But he didn’t want to stop just yet.

The backfiring of a car in the distance took the choice out of his hands. With the sound came the return of his senses, but not before he let his tongue swipe across her lips for one final taste. He smiled. She looked as if she was shocked, not by the kiss but at its intensity. What he felt was resentment—toward whoever owned the damn vehicle that had interrupted them.

“I think you should go now, Drey.”

He sighed, not wanting to go but knowing she was right. If he stayed, the next move was to get them both naked. “All right.”

To get some sort of normalcy back between them, where he could take his mind off their kiss, he said, “Are you sure you know how to use the kit?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.”

He lifted a brow, surprised she hadn’t given him some smart comeback. “Okay, then. I’ll check with you tomorrow.”

He turned and walked toward the door thinking this was the most excitement his libido had endured in a long time. Over the past year he had been too busy for a social life and Charlene just proved there were advantages to mixing business with pleasure at times.

He stopped when he got to the door and glanced back over at her. She was standing in the same spot staring at him. Just so she would know, he told her what he was thinking. What he had suddenly made up his mind about. “That wasn’t the last kiss we’ll share, Charlene.”

He saw her eyes narrow. “Yes, it was.”

He gave her an easy smile. “No, it wasn’t. In fact I won’t be totally satisfied until I’ve gotten the chance to taste you all over.”

And then he opened the door and left.