Post by Ednah Walters on Jul 11, 2011 1:11:18 GMT -5
EXCERPT:
Jade eased her car into an empty parking space outside the Palace and switched off the engine. A groan escaped her when she caught a glimpse of the time. Three minutes late and counting. That was what she got for taking a little extra time to deck her body and paint herself like a geisha. Granted she had a party to go to after their meeting. Still, to make Vince Knight choke on his words would be an added bonus.
I haven’t changed, my butt.
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and studied her face in the rear view mirror. The make-up and pinned-up hair with a few tendrils framing her face couldn’t be labeled overkill. She tilted the mirror to check the enticing valley created by the black bustier she’d worn under her matching spaghetti-strapped dress. Now that sight could be classified as a look-and-drool display.
Jade picked up her black purse and sheer shawl then stepped out of her car and locked it. She smoothed the silk dress down over her hips. A chuckle escaped her. Her behind had its own agenda and continued to resist any attempts to slim it down, but she was learning to live with it.
Jade took several steps, glanced down and grimaced. Six-inches of pure hell. She was a sucker for beautiful shoes, but the look on Vince’s face when he saw her in them would be worth it.
Two men exited the hotel as she approached the entrance and froze at seeing her, eyes wide with appreciation. A drawn out ‘damn’ brought a quick smile to her lips. That was all the encouragement she needed to work the black drop-waist dress with asymmetrical hem.
Her senses thrummed with anticipation as she glided through the hotel doors. Jade gave the busy foyer a sweeping glance. When her gaze locked on Vince, her heart started a rickety shuffle and her stomach tilted.
This was bad. She wasn’t within sniffing distance of the man and her body was already betraying her. Even in plain jeans and a T-shirt, he stood out. She studied his tall, built body as he leaned against the front desk. His tanned skin contrasted with his white T-shirt in an attractive way, his teeth flashing as he spoke with one of the managers.
It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t even her type. She avoided the silent, brooding, emotionally unavailable types like the plague. They were too difficult to understand and complicated. On the other hand, where had an outgoing man gotten her? A bad marriage and doubts about her sensuality.
As though he felt her gaze, Vince turned.
She stopped breathing, a stupid thing to do but what else could she do when his heated gaze locked on her. He gave her a slow appraisal, his gaze lingering on her chest before colliding with hers.
Expression on his face? Cool. Unimpressed.
Air left her lungs in an unsteady rush. She twisted her lips into what she hoped resembled a smile as she started across the room. All that time spent putting her war paint on wasted. How could he maintain that stone-cold soberness all the time? Vince had to be made of ice, and served her right for trying to get a rise out of him.
Maybe that was the problem. His rigid control and aloofness made her want to do or say something to rattle his cage. His lack of interest in her was a definite challenge. Maybe there was some truth to the lure of the unattainable. Vince Knight, without trying, fascinated her.
Vince approached with the loose-hipped predatory stride of a jungle cat, sending a whoosh of anticipation through her. Feeling a little light-headed, Jade hoped she didn’t totter on her high stilettos.
“Sorry, I’m late,” she said, hating the breathlessness in her voice.
“No problem. You’re here now.” He gave her another cool once-over without making a comment and lifted a duffel bag she didn’t notice he was carrying. “I need to show you something.”
Her gaze moved from the bag to his face. “What is it?
“Let’s find a place to sit first.” His dark gaze swept the foyer as though cataloguing faces. She wasn’t sure whether it was caution or paranoia.
She trailed his gaze. “Is everything okay?”
“No.”
The calm way he said it sent a chill up her spine. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, reconsidered and closed it. She’d better get this meeting over with and leave.
Jade allowed him to take her arm and direct her toward the Feng Shui restaurant and lobby. His hand played havoc with her senses. She felt warmth all the way to her bones. A group of women coming toward them propelled her closer to him until only a few inches separated them. The heat from his body seeped into her skin, making her shiver. His scent, musk and spearmint, slammed into her. Her mind went foggy.
“Do you live here in L.A.?” she asked to stop herself from doing something stupid like burying her nose in the hollow of his neck.
“No, Orcas Island. I’m only here to find the statue, then I’m heading right back.”
He was so sure he would find it. Such confidence was daunting, and she had to admit, a turn-on. They walked past a poster with ‘ISWS-International Society of Women Scientists’ printed on it. “How long have you been in town?”
“Five days. Why?”
“Just wondering.” Keep him talking. Maybe then she’d turn off the faucet on the raw sexual longing sneaking in on her. “Who have you spoken with? Where have you looked? Stolen artifacts are moved so fast that….”
Her voice trailed off when he stopped. He looked down at her and she blinked. The man’s penetrating eyes seemed to see right through her outer trappings and straight to the real her—a women rebuilding her life after a humiliating marriage. She swallowed and copped an irritation. “What?”
“Can we sit down first before you start questioning me?”
“We only have thirty minutes, remember?” Not that she had any intention of leaving until all her questions were answered.
His gaze slid across her face and dropped to her breasts. “A lot can be accomplished in thirty minutes.”
Heat crawled up her neck, flaming her cheeks and ears. The rotten scoundrel. If she were bold enough, she would have given him a thorough meat-market perusal and linger on his fly. Rule Number Five in Get Some Kick-ass Attitude—if you can’t take action, say it.
“Especially when a person knows what she likes and how she likes it,” she answered and his gaze snapped back to hers. “Much better. I wasn’t sure whether you were talking to me or my girls here.” She pointed at her chest.
No reaction. Not even a flicker of irritation or amusement. She was impressed. In high school, he’d been a charmer. His smile alone would coax girls into the backseat of his car. What happened? Who stole his smile?