Feeling The Heat Page 8

  “Have you ever hit anyone with it?”

  “Nope.” Her smile capsized. “But I’d like to break it in on Carter,” she said darkly.

  Linc grinned. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

  “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “You will.”

  Since he’d entertained the idea of beating the hell out of the guy, he could hardly chide her for wanting to hit him with her stun gun.

  “What?” she asked, darting him a look. “Aren’t you going to tell me that I shouldn’t do it? That I only think it’ll make me feel better? That it’s petty and beneath me?”

  Linc took a pull from his beer. “Hell, no. Why would I do that?”

  A slow smile curled her lips, then she grimaced adorably. “I figured somebody ought to try and talk me out of it.”

  “You aren’t going to get any objections from me. After what he’s put you through, I think he deserves that and more. Shock the shit out of him, sweetheart,” Linc told her, chuckling softly. “What goes around comes around. I imagine you aren’t the only person who wishes they could hit Carter Watkins with five-hundred volts.”

  Her gaze tangled with his again and another small smile curled those lush lips. “Try seven-seventy-five.”

  Linc whistled low and grinned at her. “I, uh…I guess a million was overkill.”

  She smiled and held her index finger barely above her thumb. “Just a little.”

  Though it was none of his business and he had no real reason—other than morbid curiosity—Linc asked the one question which had been driving him nuts from the get-go. “How in the hell did you get mixed up with someone like Carter Watkins?”

  She quirked a brow. “You mean aside from sheer stupidity and poor judgment? I told you. We met at Marcello’s.”

  “Yes, I knew that part. But what I want to know is how? Did he accidentally on purpose spill coffee on your shirt? Did he accidentally on purpose bump into you? Did he quote a line of poetry?” He glanced at her hair. Did he tell you that ghastly ponytail was sexy? Linc wondered silently, making himself chuckle.

  Georgia frowned, evidently wanting in on the joke, but Linc knew better than to give voice to that uncharitable thought. Besides, he didn’t know her well enough to tell her how to wear her hair. Yet, at any rate. And who was to say if the opportunity presented itself that he wouldn’t encourage her to cease and desist with the onion-head do, anyway?

  Evidently he’d stared at her hair too long, because she suddenly reached up and smoothed it, then uttered a startled little gasp. “Why didn’t you tell me my hair was falling down?”

  “Because I like it better that way.” So much for waiting to know her better, being tactful, etc…But how could he resist an opening like that?

  A stunned laugh burst from her throat and her eyes widened. “Oh,” she said. “Well, thank you. I think.”

  “It was a compliment. The curls are nice.” Mild understatement. He loved her curls, kept resisting the urge to wrap his fingers around one pretty strand and tug her closer for a kiss, where he could plunder that ripe mouth and suck on her bottom lip. “You’ve got pretty hair.” He frowned and shook his head. “But that ponytail is ghastly.”

  Rather than being insulted, Georgia merely laughed. “Ghastly? Are they putting vocabulary words on the back of the Fruity Flakes box again?”

  “I read,” Linc told her, feigning insult.

  “And I wear my hair like this for a reason, Mr. Helpful.”

  He winced. “Yes, but you don’t need a facelift yet.”

  She inhaled sharply, then chuckled with outrage. “Jerk,” she muttered.

  Okay, he’d bite. “Why do you wear your hair like that?”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “Did it ever occur to you that I happen to like it?”

  “If you liked it you would have said so. That’s not what you said,” he pointed out. “You said you wore your hair like that for a reason. What’s the reason?”

  She paused to consider him and he got the curious feeling that he’d picked up on something she didn’t intend to let slip. “There are two reasons actually,” she finally confessed. “Number one, it’s efficient. It takes me less than thirty seconds to put it up.”

  Linc nodded thoughtfully. “I can see where that would be important to you. What’s reason number two?”

  She took a sip of her tea. “You’re going to think it’s ridiculous.”

  “Since when do you care what I think?”

  “Since when do you care how I wear my hair?” she shot back with a pointed look.

  “I was only offering a little constructive criticism,” Linc said, purposely goading her. He didn’t know why. He just couldn’t seem to help himself. For reasons he knew better than to explore, this was the most fun he’d had in a long time.

  She bared her teeth in a smile. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind when I reciprocate the gesture.”

  “Of course not. What’s reason number two?”

  “My brides.”

  Linc blinked. “Come again?”

  “My brides,” she repeated exasperatedly. “I need to look professional, not pretty. I don’t want to be perceived as competition on any level to them. It’s their wedding. It’s their special day. Everyone else can look nice, but the bride is supposed to shine. She’s the crown jewel of the ceremony.”

  Astounded, Linc felt his jaw drop. He’d heard of dumbing down before, but ugly-ing down? She’d lost her mind. He leaned forward. “You mean you wear your hair in that scalp-stretching, miserable-ass ponytail so that your brides can think they are prettier than you are?” he demanded, his voice escalating with outrage.

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  Linc sighed, unreasonably annoyed over her tactic, and shook his head. “You’re right. I do think it’s ridiculous. And absurd and silly and just plain dumb.” He glanced at her hair and muttered a curse. “You should wear it however you want to and the hell with the rest of them,” he told her.

  Georgia simply smiled. “I’ll get my turn to be the crown jewel someday,” she said. “Until then I don’t mind being a lesser accessory.”

  No doubt she had her wedding all planned out, Linc thought, suddenly disturbed with the direction their conversation had taken. Right down to the last place card and petit four.

  The mere idea made his head hurt, made his guts twist into a rope of dread around his middle. He mentally redressed her in the gown he’d seen in her window this morning, her hair down, her lips a promise of heaven hidden behind a veil, and a faceless man at her side who’d get to kiss those lips and take naked baths with her outside and—

  Shit.

  “We should go,” he said, abruptly rising from his chair. He tossed enough money on the table to cover the bill and impatiently waited for her to collect her things. All this talk of brides and weddings and crown jewels was making him break into a rash. His entire body itched.

  “I should pick up the tab,” she said, going into her purse for her wallet.

  “You caught lunch. Let’s go.”

  Looking bewildered, but resigned, Georgia followed him out to the truck. He drove her back over to her shop where the gown seemed to glow with an otherworldly luminescence and he couldn’t look at it without imagining her in it.

  “I’ll pick you up at home in the morning,” Linc told her.

  He sure as hell wasn’t coming back here.

  Ever.

  7

  “SO YOU’RE NOT COMING to the office at all today?”

  Cordless phone tucked between her shoulder and ear, Georgia stuffed her feet into her shoes and made sure that she turned the light off before heading downstairs. They’d already established that Linc was punctual, so she could count on him to be on time this morning. To make up for the prune Danish incident yesterday, she’d made a small breakfast. Nothing fancy, just the usual she tried to pull together for her and Jack a few times a week.

  “No, I’m not,” she confirmed. She made her way into the kitchen and
pulled the biscuits she’d whipped up out of the oven. “He’s picking me up here.”

  Karen hummed into the phone. “Why am I not surprised? He wins the Platinum-Diamond-Encrusted-Special-Snowflake Commitment-Phobic Award, hands down, in my opinion,” she said, laughing. “I don’t think a group of special-op Rangers could get your bounty hunter back in here at gunpoint, much less of his own volition.”

  Georgia chuckled under her breath. No doubt Karen was right about that. The instant the conversation had turned to weddings last night, Linc had become brooding, distant and impatient. Though she knew it was none of her business, she desperately wanted to know why he had such a serious aversion to the idea of sharing the rest of his life with one person.

  When she’d made the offer to plan Gracie’s wedding for free, she’d assumed that he’d accepted simply to make his sister happy and to make their lives easier. That was true, she knew, but Georgia suspected there was more to it than that. What exactly remained to be seen, but she had the irrepressible urge to find out. Poking around in Linc’s business—or more accurately, his brain—was probably not the brightest move for a girl to make, but she’d taken bigger risks before. Hell, in her line of work she was always at odds with someone. Her lips quirked. Generally the mother of the bride.

  “So how did it go yesterday?” Karen wanted to know. “I tried to call you last night, but didn’t get you.”

  That’s because she’d been in her outside bath and had forgotten to bring the cordless handset with her. Relaxing in the tub was her at-home stress therapy and after not finding Carter, not to mention spending the day in close proximity with Linc, her nerves had been shot. Quite frankly, she wasn’t exactly sure which one had created more tension. Actually, that wasn’t true—being with Linc created a tension of a different sort.

  That of the nagging, inappropriate, sexual variety.

  But honestly, how was she supposed to spend the better part of her day with him and not be affected? That haunting scent of patchouli combined with those sexy, heavy-lidded mossy eyes and that smile…

  Georgia released a small breath.

  That smile, just the simple act of rearranging his already sumptuous mouth into the universal symbol for happiness, made something in her chest warm and lurch, and made her nipples tingle with an oh-mercy kind of need.

  Her gaze slid to the bowl on her table, the one that he’d made with those beautiful, strong hands. Her breath left her in a little whoosh as she imagined those hands working the clay, shaping it and molding it. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine those same hands sliding over her body, molding her, shaping her, bringing out the best in her.

  Just being close to him made her go into a little simmer of sensual longing the likes of which she’d never experienced. When she’d landed against him in the truck, Georgia had been more shaken by the feel of that rock-hard body next to hers than being unceremoniously slung across the cab. It was the more, Georgia realized. And if she wasn’t careful, that more would be her undoing.

  This, she concluded, given the circumstances—or under any circumstances, for that matter—was bad.

  In the first place, she should be worrying more about finding Carter Watkins and her ring than contemplating the lean slope of Linc’s cheek, and the corresponding heavy ache in her sex it seemed to evoke. She shouldn’t be stealing glances at his profile and wondering if the masculine yet vulnerable side of his neck tasted as good as it looked. She shouldn’t be staring at his hands—strong, well-shaped and capable—and imagining them sliding over the small of her back, or pushing into her hair as he pulled her closer for a kiss.

  In short, she didn’t have time and shouldn’t be lusting after a man who clearly had no interest in forming any sort of lasting attachment. It was counterproductive, the epitome of inefficiency.

  And yet…she wanted him. Craved him. Needed him.

  “Did you get any leads on Carter?” Karen asked.

  She sighed. “Not yet.”

  “I’m sorry, Georgia,” her assistant told her. “I know this is hard.”

  The hardest part was knowing this was her fault, that it all could have been avoided if she’d only used better sense. Georgia swallowed. “Well, all I can do is keep looking.”

  “Does the badass know what he’s doing?”

  Georgia felt a smile slide over her lips. “Badass?”

  Karen’s chuckle drifted over the line. “Oh, you know he’s a badass,” she said. “And he’s very good-looking. Funny how you forgot to mention that part.”

  “I didn’t think it was relevant,” Georgia lied. She just hadn’t wanted Karen reading more into the situation than what was there. Or discovering the pitiful truth, that Linc Stone had the rare ability to turn both her brain and her body to mush.

  “For future reference, any time you are going to be working with a hot man, it’s relevant.”

  “Hot, lukewarm or cold, it doesn’t matter to me so long as he gets the job done.”

  “I can’t speak for all men, but he can usually do it better when he’s warmed up,” Linc said from the screen door, startling the life out of her. She inhaled sharply and jumped.

  “Ooo. Was that him?” Karen asked. “Is he there?”

  When no hole immediately opened up in the floor for her to fall through, mortified and cheeks blazing, Georgia slowly turned around. Linc stood on her back step, his face wreathed in a wicked smile that made her belly tip in a warm roll. Dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans and a black cable-knit sweater, his hair still a little wet from his shower, her badass bounty hunter looked better than good-looking—he was lethal.

  “Er…yes,” Georgia finally replied, as Karen kept repeating the question in her ear. “I’ll check in with you later.” She disconnected and motioned for Linc to come inside.

  “You’re awfully cocky this morning,” Georgia quipped, setting the phone back onto its base.

  “So you were talking about me,” Linc said, evidently pleased. He absently scratched his chest. “I knew you thought I was handsome, but didn’t know I’d been bumped up to hot.”

  “Karen thinks you’re hot,” Georgia clarified. “I think you’re a pain in the ass.”

  He sidled over to the stove and spied the country ham and biscuits she’d made this morning. “If I’m such a pain in the ass, why did you make me breakfast?”

  “Because I can’t trust you in public. In light of the Danish-tossing incident yesterday morning, I thought I should err on the side of caution.” She paused. “Besides, it’s not all for you. My brother will be by in a minute.” She gestured to the bag on the counter. “He’ll take his to go.”

  Linc paused. “Since he doesn’t know about the ring, who am I supposed to be and why the hell am I here so early?”

  Oh, shit, Georgia thought, a dart of unease lodging in her chest. She didn’t have to worry about Jack knowing Linc—they didn’t exactly move in the same circles. But she hadn’t thought that far ahead. She opened her mouth, hoping to form some sort of excuse, but heard the alarm sound at the end of the driveway, indicating that her time was limited. Dammit, why hadn’t she heard it when Linc pulled through? It would have saved her a hell of a lot of embarrassment. No, she’d been too busy letting Karen yak away in her ear to hear him. Bloody hell.

  “Don’t worry,” Linc assured her. He lifted his brows and smiled one of those significant smiles that made her distinctly nervous. “I’ll improvise. You follow my lead, remember?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I—” She heard her brother’s truck door slam. “Don’t embarrass me,” Georgia said through gritted teeth, shooting him a death-ray glare. “My brother has never—”

  Jack rapped a couple of times on the door, then pulled it open. “Morning, sis,” he said, then drew up short as his gaze landed on Linc.

  And no wonder.

  He’d never seen a man at her house before. Through no accident, he’d been out of town the one night she’d let Carter come over. She didn’t pry into Jack�
�s relationships and didn’t want him to pry into hers. Furthermore, she was his little sister and he was quite protective. If anyone ought to understand that, Linc should.

  Linc immediately stuck out his hand. “Linc Stone. You must be Jack. Georgia’s told me a lot about you.”

  Her brother’s gaze slid to her as he shook Linc’s proffered hand. “That must be nice. I’ve never heard of you.”

  Georgia laughed nervously as the testosterone level in the room spiked to unhealthy proportions. “Haven’t had the time,” she said. “Working late, you know.”

  “I just talked to you last night,” Jack pointed out, his voice a guarded growl. “You didn’t mention you’d be having overnight company.”

  In the first place, she hadn’t had overnight company, and in the second place, if she had it was none of his damned business. “I—”

  Linc frowned at her, his gaze becoming increasingly irritated. “You didn’t mention it to me, either. Who spent the night with you, baby?”

  Baby? What the hell—“Nobody spent the night with me,” Georgia said, exasperated. She glared at Jack. “Linc’s my—”

  Linc slung an arm around her shoulder, pulled her close, inadvertently setting off a heat bomb in her belly. Her nipples sizzled and the side of her body currently snugged against his felt like it had been slapped against a furnace. “—boyfriend,” he finished for her, and it was a damned good thing that he’d put an arm around her, otherwise she would have fallen over in shock. “I’m her boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He smiled, though there was a distinctly proprietary gleam in his gaze which made her silly heart do a little pirouette, despite the fact she knew it was fake. This was the classic pissing contest between two alpha males and unfortunately, she was stuck right in the middle.

  And no doubt she’d be the one getting pissed on.

  Jack stared at her for a minute, clearly torn between removing Linc’s arm from her body and minding his own business. Thankfully years of her not interfering in his personal affairs paid off.

  “Nice to meet you,” he finally told Linc, albeit gruffly and grudgingly. He picked up his bag from the counter along with his thermal coffee cup and shot her a look. “I’d better get going. I’ll call you later.”