Full Throttle Yearning (5 page)

Roxie touched his forearm. “Thanks.” She blushed prettily and tantalizingly. “For saving me.” She clearly meant every soft-spoken word. Her gaze caught his and her pupils dilated. Her nipples budded against the thin fabric of her bodice.

Though skilled at hiding his emotions, Charlie couldn’t let go of his anger. “Do you understand that you could have been severely injured or worse yet killed?” He should have been thankful that she cared enough about him to come out into the sweltering heat, but his mind’s imaginative eye conjured up a terrifying picture of mangled, bloodied limbs.

Blue eyes squinted closed in shock before she flashed them open. “You were clearly miserable. I was trying to do something nice for you.”

“If you want to do something nice—” Charlie cut his retort off just in time, or else he’d have admitted that if Roxie
did
want to do something for him, she could take care of the raging need she’d single-handedly inspired. No, that wasn’t wholly true. The woman in black leather this morning had had a lot to do with cranking up the heat.

She assessed him quickly, lowered her gaze and pursed her lips. Her hand fell to her side. “I thought you might be hot but the only place you’re steaming now is under the collar. Thanks, Charles, for pushing me out of the way.” Unsteadily, she got to her feet and rocked for a second.

Should he reach out and steady her? Squirming in his seat with indecision, he compromised by touching her arm in case she needed assistance. He had no doubt the near-accident had left her shaken, and stared at her, analysing her, attempting to see into her head. Had it been kindness or it had she run across the street for another purpose? He was sure of it as she straightened her shoulders and a look of determination crossed her face. She
was
hiding something. But what?

Plus the fact that she knew his name. Had the employees been gossiping about him in the kitchen? Probably.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” she said flatly, smoothing her apron at the thigh.

He watched the slender fingers trailing up and down. If only she could use that featherlight touch on him. Simmering anger rose and boiled up from deep within his gut. He couldn’t help himself. “What are you going to do? Repeat your earlier performance?” he asked harshly, instantly regretting both his fury and his choice of words.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I don’t have time to run down to the crosswalk then back up the other side. If you hadn’t been sitting here,” she continued, her voice rising, “then I wouldn’t have thought you needed a cold drink!”

Roxie had so neatly dumped the whole thing in his lap. Was she refusing to take responsibility? When he was trying to help her! “If I hadn’t been here?” he asked, matching her tone and volume. “Are you pinning this on me?”

She folded her arms across her chest in an “I’m not about to back off” stance. “That’s pretty much what I said.” Brushing past him, she stepped one dainty foot over the curb.

“Oh no you don’t.” He grabbed her upper arm in a firm hold, unwilling to risk another incident where his heart jumped into his throat and gagged him. “We will go down to the crosswalk where the light is, then we’ll come back on the other side, safe and sound. No more of this running across four lanes and looking to get killed.”

She tried to shake his hand free but his grip was tight and relentless. His whole body was one live wire. She was like liquid fire running along his veins, her fragrance invading his every pore, overwhelming his instinct to leave her alone and run as far and fast from her as he could. But he was a gentleman. He couldn’t allow her to cross the street like that again and place her life in danger, and she might need an explanation for her boss when she arrived late back to work. Charlie could handle both, even if every nerve in his body was humming with sensual awareness of Roxie’s presence.

“Look, I can take care of myself,” she huffed, her bodice rising and falling with hurried breaths. Her nipples were still peaked, still drove him crazy.

“You keep telling me that, but I still end up helping you out.”
And I want sex with you so much, I’m about to jump out of my skin.

“I didn’t ask you to,” she responded petulantly, lifting her wrist to glance at her watch. “I’ve got one more minute before I’m late and I don’t want to be canned. I can’t afford it, so I’ll just go back the way I came.” She made as if to leave but his hand was still clenched possessively around her arm. “I’m sorry about the Coke. I wanted to help you cool off.”

There’s only one way to do that. Come to bed with me, alleviate the heat burning through my body. Why are LA chicks so hot?

“I can’t let you do that. I’ll explain to your boss why you’re late.” With that, he marched her down the sidewalk toward the crosswalk at the intersection.

As Charles walked her down the sun-heated sidewalk, Roxie fumed inwardly. Oddly, even though he was angry with her and she didn’t understand why, she felt comforted by his touch on her upper arm and his evident concern. Then, too, he couldn’t hide his rigid shaft. She repressed a smile of feminine satisfaction. He could have been outside the diner for only one reason—to keep an eye on her because he was in a bad way. She heaved a deep sigh. She was so aroused when he was nearby, never mind when his skin contacted hers, that it almost made her delirious with need. What could a powerfully built, well-muscled, extremely virile man do to her in bed? Was she willing to find out?

Charles wasn’t speaking to her. His shaded gaze scrutinized everything but studiously avoided her. Not that she was staring at him but she could tell from which way his head was turned. They stopped at the light, waiting for it to turn green.

On impulse, she reached up and slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. Thunderous gray eyes met her inquiring gaze. Boldly, in words she’d never spoken to another man before, she asked, “You want me, don’t you?”

His lips turned down in a heavy grimace and he inched the glasses up to cover his eyes. But not before she saw the intensity in his gaze, which confirmed her suspicion. He wanted sex with her.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said, perhaps a tad too brightly. “I’ll pick you up at your place tonight.”

The light turned green. His fingers dug deeper into her upper arm with a pressure she couldn’t ward off, and he stepped off the curb. Helplessly, thinking she was a fool for even considering that he might want sex with her, she followed. He moved quickly, with an agility she found it hard to believe in such a powerful male.

It wasn’t until they’d stepped up onto the opposite curb that he responded. He paused and canted his head her way. “I’m supposed to pick you up.”

She noted that his anger had died away, replaced by an almost lighthearted tone. “I don’t buy into the patriarchal society theory where men do everything.” She ran her free hand through the hair above her ear. “Women can do anything they want, when they want.” That saying was rapidly becoming her mantra, besides which, if he picked her up then he might discover who she really was just from what was out in plain view—a runaway from wealth and prestige, the type of lifestyle to which Charles Vernon subscribed. She could not allow herself to be returned to her father and the strict guard under which he’d place her.

Several pedestrians skirted around them, throwing discreet glances their way. It never paid to be snoopy in LA. Gang members could easily shoot one down for looking at them the wrong way.

Charles nodded. His mouth moved as if he were about to say something. She had to forestall any argument. “It’s all or nothing,” she said, countering his silence. She would not allow him to push her around. She was the mistress of her life, and any man she invited to be part of it had to follow her rules. She moistened her lips. With Charles Vernon, she could be a savage, unpretentious woman, in and out of bed. She would never again allow a man to treat her like a delicate wallflower.

He grimaced, but his lips parted without sound. His shirt moulded to his awesome biceps and his flat stomach. Sunlight threaded through his short hair and she could have sworn she saw a hint of blue in those strands. What would running her fingers through the silky tendrils feel like? Sensuous, drawing her closer to him as he spun a delicious web of erotic pleasure?

“In other words, a business deal.” He spoke the words in a flat monotone, but he couldn’t hide the excitement her statement had triggered.

Roxie shrugged. Who cared what he called her proposition? “If that’s what you want to call it. Are you in?” She no longer needed to play hardball but she liked this new side of her she’d not experienced before.

The small, tight smile he gave her made her shiver. The skin on her arms prickled with anticipation. Oops, double entendre.

The intersection light had changed from green to red and back again. Charles was in a quandary. He hesitated. “I’m in.” He raised his hand and gently brushed a stray tendril from her cheek. Roxie leaned forward half an inch and he realized they’d probably battle for control. He was sure to win a good deal of the time, but once in a while he could be the loser too. He swivelled, and pulling her along with him, headed toward the diner. “You’ll definitely need my explanation as to why you’re late.”

Roxie grunted in acknowledgement, and when they entered Woody’s, the boss was waiting with crossed arms. “So?” he growled, looking from one to the other.

Charlie observed her face as she hesitated, frowned, and finally came to a decision. “I was almost hit by a semi and Charles took the time to push me out of its way.” She tugged her arm free without looking at him.

His hand felt empty despite her nearness. The diner was packed with patrons laughing, talking and eating, but all that mattered was Roxie.

The boss shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not going to ask questions about semis and pulling you out of danger on your break.” To Charles, he said, “Thanks.” He shook his hand firmly and ambled back into the kitchen.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” Roxie told Charles, flashing him a triumphant smile before she scooted back to work.

Charlie didn’t know what to think as his gaze fell upon her delicious backside. He figured the best way to keep an eye on her was to seat himself at a booth, order a burger and fries, and keep his cool without thinking too much about how he would rather be helping himself to something else. Someone else, he corrected.

Charlie ate a fantastically juicy burger with cheese and bacon and the best fries he’d ever had. He must have licked his fingers five times before it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Roxie in several minutes.

Gerry yelled, “Eighty-nine up!”

Uneasy, Charlie rose and asked the older man, “I haven’t seen Roxie in a few minutes. How is she?”

Gerry eyed him over the counter and smiled to himself. “She slipped out the back ‘bout five minutes ago, muttering that she hated to be followed.”

Charlie frowned and pressed his lips together. Roxie had given him the slip? Why? Her action confirmed his fear that she was hiding something.

The kitchen doors opened and Gerry came around and slapped him good-naturedly on the back. “I only hired her a couple months ago, but she’s already doubled my business in that time.” Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial level, he said, “She’s got smarts, that woman. If she ran off on you, she’s got a damn good reason.” With one more hearty clap to Charlie’s back, he returned to the kitchen.

Cursing under his breath, Charlie figured he had two options. He could call it quits for the night and return to his rented condo, or he could ask Gerry for Roxie’s address and pick her up for their date, instead of her coming for him.

“Roxie and I are going on a date,” he told the boss through the space over the counter. “Would you happen to know her address?”

The man smiled again. “You’re new here, aren’t you? If folks run off, they mean to stay hidden. ‘Sides which, I doubt the address she’s got on her application is the one she’s living at. Best not to ask too many questions in LA.”

“Thanks, that’s good advice.”

Knowing he was probably much too late, he darted into the street, up a block, and into the dead-end alley behind the diner. He didn’t see Roxie. His heart was pounding madly and the heat was still overwhelming. Why had Roxie made such an impression on him in her candy-pink uniform?

Charlie opted to return to his condo. Would Roxie show up or would she change her mind at the last moment? Had she been serious about picking him up at his place or had he been mistaken about the reciprocating hunger in her eyes?

Seated behind the steering wheel of his Mercedes, he developed the distinct conviction that Roxie was skilled at eluding anyone she chose. Should he take a photo of her on his cell phone and send it to Manny to check her out? Maybe she was a criminal on the run.