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A Perfect Storm(4)

By:Lori Foster


She breathed harder.

As a warning, her small hand bunched into a fist. He didn't care. If she slugged him, maybe that'd finally make him see reason.

Maybe he'd finally be able to stop thinking about her.

"Damn you," she growled.

And his doorbell rang.





CHAPTER TWO


ARIZONA WATCHED AS CALM settled over Spencer's features. Oh, chaotic  emotion had been there seconds before. She knew it. But now, he looked  as collected as a college professor.

"Excuse me," he said with absurd formality, and turned to head for the front door.

The second his back was turned, she let out a pent-up breath and felt her knees weaken.

Why did he rattle her so much? Fear? Yeah, around him she felt it in spades. But it wasn't a normal kind of fear.

It wasn't anything familiar.

She'd lived with fear most of her life, first from her father and his  cohorts, then from the awful traffickers and the swine who came to them  for women. And then … from the idea of being alone, unable to help others.                       
       
           



       

Useless.

From where she stood, the open door blocked her view of his visitor, but  she didn't need a visual, not with the husky female voice now crooning,  "Spencer, I'm so glad you're home."

Arizona's spine went rigid.

Strength surged back into her legs.

So did petty animosity.

She strained her ears but heard nothing, and she suspected the woman was kissing Spencer.

"Sorry, doll," Spencer finally said low, "but it's not a good time."

Doll? Not a good time for what? Curiosity, and a few more unpleasant emotions, nudged Arizona closer.

"But it's been forever," purred the female, "and you promised me-"

"I don't make promises."

"I know." An exaggerated sigh. "That's not what I meant. But … " Silly  female cajoling. "God, Spencer, I need you." Slim, pale hands came up  and around Spencer's neck and drew him down.

This time she had no doubts at all about the silence. They were making  out in his doorway, right there for God and the rest of the world to  see.

Peeved, Arizona took a few quicker steps forward, and witnessed a pretty  blonde delivering a scorching kiss. They both had their eyes closed.  They fit together. And she saw a flash of tongue.

Fury narrowed her eyes.

Spencer knew she was waiting on him, but he didn't exactly fight off Blondie's attentions.

With one hand at her waist and the other keeping the door held  open-probably to try to block Arizona from seeing-Spencer let the brazen  broad kiss him.

Crossing her arms and propping her shoulder against the wall, Arizona  asked, "Can I get an estimate on how long this is going to take?"

When they both looked at her, the blonde shocked, Spencer resigned, Arizona smiled.

"I mean, is this going somewhere? Should I skedaddle and leave you to it? Or should I just wait outside for a few?"

The blonde opened her mouth twice but said nothing. Her lips were now wet, her face flushed.

Spencer, appearing unaffected by it all, didn't say anything. He just watched Arizona.

When the blonde noticed that, she shoved out of Spencer's hold. "You bastard!" She turned and marched away.

"Hey, he doesn't make promises," Arizona called after her. "You  should've remembered that!" Since Blondie didn't head for a car but  instead crossed the lawn, Arizona assumed her to be a neighbor. How  handy was that? He had "hanky-panky" living right next door.

Giving her a dirty look, Spencer pointed at her. "Stay." And with that, he went after the woman.

Like … maybe she mattered to him? Who was she?

Snuffing the hurt she felt, Arizona said, "Woof," so Spencer would know  what she thought of his order, then she strode to the door to watch the  theatrics.

Relationships confounded her; she'd never seen the appeal of having  someone around, underfoot. The invasion to your privacy. The  expectations. Obligations.

Sex.

No, she wanted no part of it.

And yet it infuriated her to see Spencer contain the woman by holding  her oh-so-gently, and to see Blondie soften as he explained.

What did he tell her?

For certain, Spencer wouldn't admit that she'd watched him sleeping,  that he'd gotten up and paraded around buck naked in front of her.

He wouldn't admit that they were both vigilantes, and that their only connection was a drive to bring the bad guys to justice.

But he talked about something, and when the woman looked toward Arizona with understanding and sympathy, her temper snapped.

What the hell?

Did that bimbo pity her?

Storming away, Arizona headed back to the kitchen. Along the way she  threw a few shadow punches and kicks, then drew a slow deep breath.  She'd already reconnoitered Spencer's house, so she knew she could slip  out the back door and not have to see him again.

But she wouldn't. She'd be damned before she let him make her flee. She didn't run from anyone. Not anymore. Never again.

Hoping to hide her awful mix of emotions, she went about cleaning up the mess on the floor.

Making herself at home, she located Spencer's garbage can and unearthed a  roll of paper towels. She was almost done when Spencer came in several  minutes later.

The second she saw him, she tossed away the last paper towel and regained her feet. "You do her in the driveway?"

Appearing cautious, he said, "What?"

Holding one hand in a circle and extending the first finger of her other hand, Arizona created a crude simulation of sex.

His expression tightened. "That's enough."

"Is it?" She leaned on the counter. "You were gone long enough."                       
       
           



       

"Five minutes? I don't think so."

That stymied her for a moment, but what did she know of his sexual  habits? Maybe he struggled. Maybe it took him longer. "Whatever you  say."

He drew out a chair. "Jealous much?"

"No!"

"Then what do you care?"

Her molars clenched. "I don't." But her heart started thumping in a very strange way.

"You refused to kiss me," he reminded her.

Oh, surely he didn't think …  "Damn right I refused!"

"Then it doesn't matter if I kiss her, does it?"

Her hand twitched with the need to zing the remaining coffee cup at his  handsome face, but that would never do. It'd give away too much-and  leave her with another mess to clean up.

Besides, he now blocked the exit from the kitchen to the front door, and  she wasn't reckless enough to infuriate him when getting out the back  would hinder her escape and make it possible for him to catch her-

"I will not hurt you, damn it!"

She almost jumped out of her skin with that deep, loud shout. But he  looked more offended than threatening, alleviating her concern. "Sheesh.  Stop my heart, why don't you?" At least his outburst had brought her  back around, helping her to shake off those odd sensations of worry  and … hurt.

He literally fumed. "You're standing there configuring escape routes."

"No way." How could he know that?

"I saw it in your eyes, Arizona. You have an expressive face."

"Seriously?" And here she'd thought just the opposite. Many, many times  she'd hidden her emotions from others. Her sadness. Her fear. Her  yearning. No one else had so easily picked up on her thoughts.

"Very expressive." He drew a deep breath, ran both hands through his hair. "But there's no need. Marla's a friend, that's all."

"A friend that you fuck?"

His teeth sawed together. "Occasionally. By mutual agreement."

Ah, God, why did that hurt so much? It shouldn't. It had nothing to do  with her. "I interrupted a little nookie time for you, didn't I?" The  sarcasm came through loud and clear. She shook her head in pity. "I am  soooo sorry."

"No, you're not, so don't lie about it."

No, she wasn't sorry. Just the opposite, she was glad she'd kept him  from boinking the blonde. "Marla, huh? She was sort of … full-figured,  wasn't she?"

"She's got a lot of curves. So what?"

"You're a chubby chaser?"

He rubbed his face in exasperation. "Most men like a woman with some meat on her bones."

Unable to stop herself, Arizona glanced down at her trim limbs. No one  would call her chubby. She had her own curves, but if he preferred-

"Stop it, Arizona."

"Stop what?"

"Comparing." His gaze went all over her, fast but thorough. He glanced away as he said, "You're incredibly sexy."

"Incredibly?" Okay, so she knew that men found her appealing. Usually it creeped her out.

Now … not so much.

"There are a lot of different body types, but most women are beautiful in their own way."

"Wow." Could he really believe that nonsense? "That sounded almost poetic."