Her hair was multicolored, different shades of red. It matched her crimson top, which was tight and short, revealing the smooth, white skin of her stomach right down to her navel. Christ-she'd had it pierced. A small red stone nestled in the indentation, and his dick actually twitched.
He forced his gaze lower. The black pants looked like they'd been painted on, and she wore high heels that made her hips sway as she walked. The effect was spoiled a little as she tripped and swore. But she eventually came to a halt in front of him. He put a hand on the bare skin of her waist and led her to a dark corner.
"Who was that?" he asked, nodding toward the bar.
"Just a man who reckons I'm the sexiest thing he's ever seen."
"Quite a transformation." He smoothed a strand of her hair. "I especially like this."
Her brows drew together. "You like it?"
Why did he get the impression that his liking it hadn't been the purpose of the exercise? But he did like it. "Very sexy."
"It's the 'just got out of bed' look."
He had an image of that multicolored hair spilling over his pillow. "We'll see."
Alarm flashed across her face, and she took a step back, then swore. "These goddamn shoes are killing me." She perched on the stool behind her and exhaled.
"So what's with the makeover?" he asked.
He had no clue what was going through her mind. Obviously, yesterday had had a profound effect on her. Why else had she suddenly decided to face Michael after all these years? Then when he'd seen her later at the office, he'd known she wanted him, could almost scent her arousal, and he'd needed all his willpower not to take her right there.
But she'd run again.
Now this.
If she'd changed her look for some other man, he was dead. Jake had seen all the men watching her. Who could blame them? All the same, they might look, but they'd better not touch.
Maybe it was time to make that clear to Kim. She beat him to it.
"So what's this about you getting the guys to babysit me?" she asked, a scowl on her face. "Dave said you gave orders that they're to 'keep me out of trouble.'"
Ah. He narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying you want that sort of trouble?" He took a step closer. "I thought I made it clear yesterday. You want a lover, then that's me."
"That is just Neanderthal." She shook her head. "I don't get why you're being like this. I'm so not your type."
"You're not?" Tell that to my dick.
"You like sophisticated, elegant women." She waved a hand down over her outfit. "That's not me."
Did he? He'd never considered that he had a type. But he supposed from outward appearances it might seem that way. In fact, he'd chosen women who could take care of themselves, who wouldn't want more than a casual fling-women who wouldn't touch his emotions while he waited for Kim.
But he wanted more than a casual fling with Kim. He just had to find a way to persuade her she wanted the same.
"So what about us?" he asked. "We were good together."
"Us?" She looked wary. "Well, you showed me that I'm not frigid. I was a little worried about that."
"No. You're definitely not frigid."
"That's the last thing I needed, to prove I was over Michael."
Couldn't she see that she was far from over him? That the bastard still controlled her life? "So why don't you want to be with me again? With a little practice, we'd be even better."
She twirled a strand of red-gold hair around her finger while she considered her answer. "It's not that I don't want to. It's that I don't think we should. Jake, you're my friend. I like you. I don't want to lose you."
"You won't lose me."
She tilted her head. "How many of your ex-girlfriends are you still friends with?"
"I wasn't friends with them before. I'm sure we can have sex and stay friends."
"I thought we could as well. But then you … " She took a deep breath and girded herself to continue. "Then you … asked me to marry you. And I knew it couldn't work."
"It could work. We'll make it work. I know my last proposal didn't go well. Next time-"
"No next time. Don't ever say those words again. Never."
Well, that was going to make his next proposal difficult. Because there would be a next one, despite what she thought.
"I saw Michael this morning."
"You did?" He searched her face-had she seen him following her? But he could get nothing from her expression.
"I'd been meaning to see him for a while. Then when you and I talked about him yesterday, it brought back the past."
"What happened?"
"I kicked him."
He wished he could tell her what a great job she'd done, but he guessed she wouldn't be too pleased about Stalker Jake. "Good."
"But seeing Michael reminded me that I don't want to ever get married again."
Not so good.
"For some reason, Jake, you feel you have to protect me, and I know that's why you felt you had to ask me to … marry you. I know you don't really want to get married."
Why the hell would she think that?
"I understand you only said it out of some sense of misguided responsibility. But you're not responsible for me. I'll always be grateful for the help you gave me, and I'll always be your friend, but I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. You have to see that."
Actually, he had to see fuck all. He couldn't believe she was so fucking clueless. And so beautiful she made his gut hurt.
"I want to be like you," she said. "I want to be strong and independent. Maybe I want lovers, but I don't want them to have any power over me. I want to be in control of my life."
"You want lovers? As in more than one?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"And you imagine I'm going to let you find out?" He could feel his anger rising, and he forced it down. If he got angry, then so would she, and she was stubborn. He had to persuade her, not browbeat her.
He stepped closer and wariness flashed across her face. She licked her scarlet lips, and the muscles in his stomach clenched tight.
"I won't risk losing your friendship," she said.
"How about I prove that it's worth the risk?" He stroked a finger down over the bare skin of her shoulder, and a visible shiver ran through her. She swallowed, licked her lips again, then nibbled on the lower one, and he almost groaned.
He rubbed his thumb over her collarbone, and she went still. Heat flushed the pale skin of her face.
When he edged closer, her gaze darted around the room, as if hunting for an escape route. He slid his hand under her hair to anchor her in place, massaging the back of her neck with his fingers. Her lashes fluttered closed for a few seconds, and she swayed toward him.
"In fact," he murmured into her hair, breathing in the sweet scent, "I can pretty much guarantee that by the end of the evening you'll decide that sex with me is more than worth the risk."
He'd get her so wound up she'd be able to think of nothing but him inside her. As he tightened his grip, her eyes flew open, and she peered around, her expression slightly panicked. Her gaze lit on something behind him. She relaxed, then jumped off the stool.
"They're leaving."
He turned and saw their group standing by the entrance. Dave searched the room, and his eyes settled on the two of them. He nodded toward the door.
"We have to go," Kim said, and without waiting for him, she hurried off toward Dave.
Jake sighed and followed her, his gaze sliding down over her bare back, along the curve of her spine, down to her ass in the tight black leather. It was going to be a long evening.
But if he had his way, the night would end with Kim in his bed. He knew she wanted him. He just had to wear her down
…
Three long hours later, Jake realized he'd totally misjudged Kim. Both her determination and her intimate knowledge of his character.
He glanced up as Dave approached him. They'd had a Chinese meal down the road from the bar and were now in a nightclub not far from his home. Which is where he wanted to be right now. With Kim.
The repetitive beat of the music was doing his head in, and he longed to be out in the fresh air. Dave handed him a bottle of beer and sank down beside him. "You looked like you needed that," he said.
"Yeah." He was definitely not the life and soul of the party. No, that title would land squarely on Kim's naked shoulders. She was across the room by the bar, tossing back tequila slammers with little care for the consequences-or more likely total awareness of the consequences. He suspected this was a carefully strategized campaign to keep him at a distance.
When they'd reached the restaurant, she'd made sure to take a seat between two others so he couldn't sit beside her. At least not without ousting someone from his chair-which he'd seriously considered. Then, she'd started drinking wine as though there were no tomorrow. She knew he despised drunkenness and never got drunk himself-Kim said it was part of his control-freak personality. And she was probably right. Occasionally, during the meal, she'd caught his eye and raised her glass in his direction.
Now, she tossed down another shot and swayed. Reaching out, she balanced herself on the nearest available object, which happened to be Steve. Jake growled.
"She's drunk," Dave said from beside him.
"Yeah."
They watched for a second in silence. Jake took a sip of his beer.