A Perfect Storm(12)

Spencer shook his head. "No."

"Well, it wasn't about the rescue." In a rush, she put voice to the  turmoil of her thoughts. "He rescued Alani, too, but that didn't bother  him. He chased her like crazy. That's because he didn't pity her."

Unconvinced, Spencer rubbed his upper lip as he measured his words and,  after some hesitation, finally said, "I feel pity for what you suffered,  Arizona, for all that was done to you. But I don't pity you, because I  can see you're a survivor, not a victim."

Heart pumping hard, she locked gazes with him. "So … you want to have sex with me?"

More hesitation, and then with a shrug, "I'm breathing, aren't I?"

The words raked over her nerves like talons, stealing her breath and her nerve. "So-"

"Wanting you, and planning to do anything about it, are two very  different things. There are a lot of things I want, but men, good men,  control themselves. They don't abuse others, or-God forbid-take by  force." He reached out a hand, palm up, and waited for her to accept  him.

Though it felt cowardly, she … couldn't. She shook her head and crossed her arms tight around herself.

Letting his hand rest on the table, he accepted her decision without comment. "I can't deny that you're a beautiful girl-"

"Woman." Appalled at herself, Arizona bit her lip. Hard. Idiot. "I'm  legit now," she stammered and felt even more foolish. "That's all I  meant."

"You're a twenty-one-year-old woman," he agreed. "And you're stunning."

"Stunning." She made a mocking face. "Whatever." But she kind of liked  that, after all the creeps who'd admired her, Spencer found her  appealing, too.

"Most men who look at you are going to admire you, Arizona. And yes,  they'll want you. They'll think about seeing you naked, about having sex  with you. It's how men's minds work. We're visual, and we're sexual.  But that's not a curse."

Good God. Talk about blunt. "Sure feels like a curse to me!"

"Even if you were willing, nothing like that will happen between us. Not  because I pity you," he stressed, "but because you're too young for me,  you've been through too much to totally understand what you want or  need, and you don't entirely trust me."

And he was still in love with his wife.

But Arizona wasn't cruel enough to say that to him. Instead, she touched  the cow-shaped handle on the serving knife. "I'm guessing your wife  bought this?"

Drawing back, he stared at her-and shut down.

Undeterred, Arizona said, "It looks like the kind of stuff a wife would buy. A good wife, I mean."

Picking up his fork, he dug into his cake. "What would a bad wife buy?"

"Drugs. Alcohol. I don't know. That kind of stuff."

He paused. "Arizona … "

"Will you tell me about her?"

He took two slow breaths and shook his head. "Eat your cake."

"It's almost too pretty to eat." The sugar crystals on the flowers  glittered. Between the layers, pinkish raspberry cream dripped out. She  scooped up a big bite, ate it and groaned. "Oh, yeah. It tastes even  better than it looks."

She was almost done with the piece of cake when he said, "I know you went through my background."

There'd be no point in denying it. "Yeah, well-"

"I don't mind. I attempted to go through yours, too."

He wouldn't have found much-but she had. She knew all about his wife,  how she'd died, and how he'd avoided any commitments since then.

But she wanted to know more. She wanted to know the small things, the  nuances that made a man and woman stay together. Stay in love. Enjoy  intimacy. "So you'll tell me about her?"                       
       
           



       

Spencer took another drink of coffee and then set the cup down quietly. "No."

Arizona tried to quell her curiosity, but he'd been so nosy, why  shouldn't she ask? It had been three years, after all. "Was she pretty?"

Slowly closing his eyes in a gesture of resignation, he put his forehead  on a fist. He looked like he'd fallen asleep, but then he said, "She  was pretty."

Feeling absurdly blessed that he'd take part in the conversation,  Arizona warmed. "I saw a small picture," she volunteered. "But I  couldn't tell much."

"Long brown hair." He straightened in his seat again. "Not as dark or wavy as yours. Brown eyes. Fair-skinned."

"Stacked?"

Shaking his head, he said, "Understated." Done with his cake, he left the table and carried his plate to the sink.

Arizona wolfed down the rest of hers and joined him. "I can do the dishes."

"I'll only rinse and put them in the dishwasher."

"Oh." He bumped into her, gave her a level look, and with an expression  of apology, she moved to the side. But not too far away. "She was your  first love?"

"She was … everything."

He made it sound as if he planned to be single the rest of his life, or  as if he assumed he'd never fall in love again. "You married young?"

"Right after she finished college." He closed the dishwasher. Keeping  his back to her, his hands braced on the sink, arms stiff, he said, "She  was two years younger than me. A dental assistant with a quirky sense  of style, as you can tell by all the cow decor everywhere."

"I like it." It made everything feel real homey. "It's a nice house."  Older, small but very neat, with hardwood floors, cove ceilings and tall  baseboards.

Spencer nodded. "She loved this house. Loved being married, too, and she  loved me. Eventually, she wanted kids. We were thinking another year or  so, but then … "

Then her life had been cut short. Taking a cue from Spencer, Arizona tentatively touched his arm, and waited.

As if the gesture surprised him, Spencer stalled but only for a moment.  "She stopped at a convenience store one night on her way home from work.  Two men-"

"Part of a human trafficking ring," she supplied, knowing that from the background check she'd done on him.

"Yeah. They were trying to drag a woman out of there, my wife intervened … "

His hands fisted, and Arizona, feeling really, really awkward, moved her hand from his arm to his back. "I'm sorry."

"A store clerk died that day, too. Another customer was injured."

"Senseless. But that's how it always is. Senseless and cruel and-"

He stepped away from her. "Enough about that."

Her hand dropped. "You got the guys who shot her."

"I did. But they were only a small part of a bigger operation." He  squared off with her. "I had as much right to go after Chandra as you  did."

Chandra had been the brains behind that particular ring. Arizona knew,  since it was Chandra who'd caught her, twice. Chandra who'd trafficked  her. Chandra who'd arranged her street education.

Chandra who'd tried to kill her.

"That's sort of what I was thinking, actually." Arizona leaned back on  the counter. "We have that in common, when usually I don't have anything  in common with anyone. Since we both want the same things, I'd be  willing to forgive how you robbed me of personal justice, if we work  together."

On alert, Spencer took a stance and scowled at her. "We are working  together. The Green Goose, right? That's what you're talking about?"

"Yeah, the bar and grill." She tried not to look unsure of herself. "But  we could do more than that if you wanted. I could find trafficking  rings, do some background on them, and you could be my muscle."

His eyes narrowed-not a promising sign.

"You're up for it, right?" Trying for a joke, Arizona reached out and squeezed his upper arm.

Solid with strength. And she knew firsthand about his fast reflexes.

No doubt about it: Spencer was a big bundle of raw power and astounding  ability. She admired strength a lot. In his case … maybe too much.

Crossing her arms, she tried really hard to look and sound unaffected.  "So, Spence. What do you say? You want to partner up with me on a more  permanent basis?"





CHAPTER FIVE


"IT'S SPENCER, AND YOU KNOW IT." He took her arm and started her toward  the living room. "Why do you insist on butchering my name?"                       
       
           



       

"Actually … I don't know." She put on her brakes. "Where are we going?"

"I figured we'd watch some television. Maybe a movie or something."

After a big yawn, she pulled free. "I need to get going. Burning the  candle at both ends has me more tired than usual. I need some shut-eye."

Shit. He glanced at his watch. "It's only eight o'clock."