A Perfect Storm(29)

But not Spencer. In the truest sense of the word, he was a champion.

She sighed as he returned from tossing away the garbage. Alert to the  surroundings, his gaze constantly scanned the area, but not in a  paranoid way. He looked casual, unconcerned-and so incredibly hot.

The front view was even better than the back view. The set of those  wide, powerful shoulders, the relaxed lope of his long-legged gait … the  way his jeans fit his lean hips.                       
       
           



       

Spencer Lark was the real deal, an amazing mix of macho ability and  tender compassion, sex appeal and physical strength, kick-ass justice  and an enormous heart.

If she'd ever felt this way before, she didn't remember it. She knew no  other man had ever drawn her as Spencer did. It was strange, but she  couldn't deny that she looked forward to his next kiss. Would it be more  intimate than the previous kisses?

Remembering them gave her a tiny shiver of eagerness.

Just a little while ago, he'd stolen a quick kiss straight from her lips.

Would he kiss her there again? Longer next time? Deeper?

Did she want him to?

Yep, she did.

Tonight, she'd be alone with him at his house again. After they finished  their trip to the bar, maybe she'd tell him what she wanted. Or maybe  she just wouldn't protest. This was all so new to her that she really  had no idea how to proceed.

But she'd figure it out, and fast.

Spencer got back into the truck, settled into his seat and gave her a  double take. "You're looking at me funny." His gaze went to her mouth.  "Daydreaming again?"

"Sort of." She felt suddenly free, and that made no sense. Soon they'd  be in the center of a viper's nest. Bad guys needed to be brought down,  and innocents needed to be freed. And still the grin tugged at her  mouth. To contain the euphoric feeling, Arizona wrapped her arms around  herself. "I was just thinking that I really do trust you."

He went still, his expression inscrutable. "Glad to hear it."

Arizona had to laugh. Of course he didn't try to press the issue. Not  Spencer. He still saw her as damaged goods, and he still wanted to "fix"  her. But somehow, that didn't bother her so much anymore. She knew she  was fine, and eventually he'd know it, too.

She gave him a nod. "Okay."

He spoke carefully. "Okay what?"

No way would she forewarn him. He wanted the upper hand, and right now,  he thought he had it. That worked for her. As long as he considered  himself in control, he wouldn't see her taking over.

"Never mind." Trying not to grin, she flipped down the visor and checked  her teeth in the mirror. "Nothing stuck in my teeth. That's good."

"Hey." He reached for her hand, drawing her attention back to him. "Everything okay?"

"Yup." Things were awesome, better than ever, because she felt awesome, better than ever.

Apparently, he didn't buy that. "You aren't having reservations about going to the Green Goose?"

"Shoot, no." If anything, she was more enthusiastic than ever.

He held on to her hand. "It'd be understandable, honey. Even if Terry  Janes doesn't pick up on the … " his attention moved over her  " … enticement, other guys will come on to you. They'll be drinking,  probably pushy."

"Yeah, I know." Duh. That was the plan. She squeezed his hand in  reassurance, then let him go. "But it'll be okay. Don't worry. I've done  this sort of thing before, remember? I can handle it."

Expression darkening, he pulled back and started the truck. "You handling it is what I'm worried about the most."

"Well, don't." She hooked her seat belt and gifted him with a cocky  smile. "We've got the bases covered, so there's nothing to worry about.  Now let's get this show on the road."





CHAPTER TEN


WORRY? HOW COULD HE NOT? Arizona showed no caution, no real  understanding of the risk involved. She acted as if it was all fun and  games, showing the same enthusiasm for cutthroat danger that most young  ladies her age gave to a shopping spree.

She might not comprehend the temptation she presented in her sexier  clothes, but he knew, and the reality of it chewed on his conscience. No  matter what the final reward might be, dangling her out there for  traffickers to drool over didn't sit right.

It felt more wrong by the moment.

"You look p.o.'d." With her good mood dwindling, she tipped her head at him. "What'd I do wrong now?"

"Not a thing." It wasn't what she had done as much as how she faced the  world-recklessly, with no consideration for her own safety or  limitations. Spencer had no idea how to rein her in. At times he  wondered if such a thing was possible.

"Hmm." She shocked him with a suggestive look. "Your mouth says one thing, but your mood says another."

What the hell is she up to now? Treading carefully, he said, "Unlike  you, I understand that the best laid plans have a tendency to go  sideways."

"Poor Spencer." She eyed his chest, lower. "Did you want me to fall apart?"                       
       
           



       

He scowled at her husky tone. "Of course not." What was she thinking  about that had her sounding so breathless? "You don't need to be overly  worried, but a degree of caution would be welcome."

"So … " Deliberately teasing and intimate, she leaned toward him. "How  much caution does it take to make you chill?" She stroked the side of  his neck, threaded her fingers into his hair.

The touch froze him, left him so taut he felt ready to break. Spencer concentrated on driving-and on not getting a boner.

"Would it make you feel better," she continued, "if I was a little scared, maybe a little needy?"

"God, no." She'd lived enough of her life in fear. As his body stirred,  he locked his teeth. "But you don't have to be so damn happy about it,  either."

Her cool fingers moved over his neck. "Is that what attracted you to Marla?"

"What?" Following along wasn't easy, not while she touched him without  fear. Not when her posture showed off her cleavage. Not with her voice  all husky and deep.

Crossing her legs, she went more or less sideways in the seat to better  face him. "Marla." In contrast to what she said, she turned her hand and  drifted her knuckles over his jaw, under his chin. "Were you drawn to  her because she's a typically helpless female?"

With her skirt hiking even higher, of course he looked at her legs.  Again. They were so smooth, slim but shapely. And he could almost  imagine them open to him or wrapped around his waist.

Or warm against his jaw …

Damn.

On the one hand, it surprised Spencer that Arizona would utilize blatant  female ploys. But on the other hand … he knew better than to ever  underestimate her. She used those ploys for a reason … he had to figure  out why.

Unsure of her endgame, he took care with his reply. The last thing he  wanted to do was make Marla more of a target; Arizona already didn't  like her. "She's a successful Realtor, an independent woman who owns her  own home. I wouldn't call that helpless." But Marla did like to play  off the idea of a single woman alone. More often than not, the ruse  compelled him to lend a hand.

"Maybe for her, calculating is a better word choice, then."

"Is that jealousy talking?" Given Arizona's mercurial mood swings, he had reason to worry.

Finally drawing her hand away, Arizona scowled. "Why would I be jealous?"

"I have no idea. She's just a neighbor-"

"That you slept with."

Right. Definitely tones of jealousy. Figuring her out could take a lifetime. "I've slept with a lot of women … "

Affront stiffened her spine. "Big whoop. I've slept with-"

"Don't." Muscles suddenly tense, Spencer worked his jaw. He did not want  her drawing comparisons between consensual sex and human trafficking.  "It's not the same thing."

Gently, she whispered, "Yeah, I know." She retreated to look out the window.

He missed her touch, especially since she'd replaced it with the chill of her cold shoulder. "What are you up to?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Something," he corrected.

Her mouth pursed, her eyes narrowed. "Forget it."

Like hell. "Arizona … "

Shaking off her melancholy, she cut in to say, "Don't forget to drop me off near a bus stop so I can arrive separate from you."

He flexed his hands on the steering wheel. "I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, you're kind of being an ass."

He paused before pointing out, "Now you owe me two."

"Kisses? Good. Great."

That earned her another double take. "Is that a joke?"