Sweet Anger(59)

“Early. But thanks for interrupting. I was watching my number-one competitor gushing through her story.”

“That Sally person?” he asked, making his way into the kitchen and depositing his burdens on the counter-top.

“You know very well who I mean. Sally Jenkins. The new rage. The belle of Denver TV.”

He popped his head around the corner. “Do you smell something rancid in here? Jealousy perhaps?”

“I’ll admit I’m pea-green with it.” She snapped off the TV and joined him in the kitchen. He laughed and handed her a glass of wine.

“You’ve got no reason to be jealous of her. She can’t hold a candle to you. She’s all boobs.”

“I see you noticed.”

“Who could miss them?”

“Yeah,” Kari said. “One of the salesmen noticed them. Or at least that was the scoop when I left.” She leaned against the countertop. Her finger traced the rim of her wineglass. “What if they don’t give me my job back, Hunter?”

He saw the anxiety on her face, heard it in her voice. He straightened from his task of unloading pots and pans from the storage bin. Cradling her face between his hands, he said, “They will.” His mouth met hers softly. “But if they don’t, you’ll do something else. And you’ll be great at it.”

“Thanks. I needed that.” Then impulsively she set her wine on the counter and slid her arms around his waist. She laid her head on his chest. “I need you.” She whispered but he heard her.

He pushed her away to look down into her face. “For what?” His implication was hazardous to a normal pulse rate. Hers skyrocketed.

She was still mortified over what had happened that afternoon and didn’t want him to think she was that desperate. Cocking her head to one side she said, “To take care of my parking tickets. You can do me that little favor, can’t you? You’re the D.A.”

He laughed. Grabbing her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground, he growled in her ear. “Yeah, I can do that. But such favors are expensive.” His hand shamelessly stroked her fanny. She had no doubt what price he intended to exact.

He put her to work on the salad while he set about mixing the ingredients of his spaghetti sauce. He worked with the concentration of a chemist. When the sauce was simmering, they carried their wine into the den and sat close together on the sofa. He lifted her bare feet into his lap.

“No shoes?”

“I think I rubbed a blister today.”

His eyes took in the loose silk slacks she was wearing. They were the color of vanilla ice cream. Her matching silk sweater was loose as well, having wide sleeves and an oversize boat neck that was designed to slip beguilingly over one shoulder. “I like this outfit.” His index finger trailed down her bare shoulder.

“Hmm, I wonder why?”

“Wear it on television and it’ll boost your ratings.”

“Yeah?”

He scowled. “On second thought, don’t. I don’t want thousands of men ogling you.”

“Would you be jealous?”

“Damn right, I would.” Unrepentantly he smiled. “Have you talked to Pinkie lately?”

She shook her head and dropped her eyes to the ruby wine in her glass. “I wanted to call and taunt him about his love life, but …” She let her statement dwindle away.

“But you didn’t want him to taunt you about yours.”

She brought her head up swiftly. “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“How do you know what I’m thinking? It makes me crazy when you do that.”

“I’m sorry. But isn’t that what you were thinking? He would be sure to ask if I’d found you and you’d have to tell him something. What would it be, Kari? What would you tell him about us?”

“I don’t know.”

He shoved her feet off his lap, stood and stalked into the kitchen. She sat for a moment, her face wrinkled in a grimace of frustration, then she bounded after him. He was stirring the sauce on the range.

“I told you not to expect anything.”

His shoulders bunched angrily, but they relaxed a trifle before he turned around. “I don’t.”

For some reason she was suddenly spoiling for a fight. “Yes, you do. You expect me to sleep with you.”

“Wrong!” he shouted. He was at the end of his rope, too. He’d been holding himself in check, doing everything by the book, going slow. But, dammit, his body could only take so much. And it had been in a state of emergency since he’d come to Breckenridge and joined her in the restaurant. “Yes, that’s what I want. But I sure as hell don’t know what to expect.”