Irresistible Knight (12 page)

“Baby, they don't serve raw meat here.”

“You know what I mean. No red in the middle.”

Bors gave her a droll stare. “Are you sure you want
everything
in it?”

Taylor laughed. It was unpretentious, sounded like an angel, sexy, and damn arousing. “And fries. I like them salty.”

“Crispy, wilted or soggy.”

“Funny.”

“Drinks?”

“Diet coke, please.”

“Want it cold, warm, lukewarm, in a can with a straw or—”

“Ha. Ha.”

Bors stared at Taylor, entranced. It was too easy to get lost in those round coffee eyes and forget whom she belonged to. He must be going nuts because all he wanted at that moment was to kiss her. Before he acted on his thoughts, he opened his door. “Be right back.”

Minutes later, Bors found himself again watching Taylor with fascination as she took a big bite of her burger. She might look sophisticated, but she ate like Gawain. She unbuckled her seatbelt, tucked her legs beneath her, and faced him. Burger juice dripped down her chin. Her tongue darted out, reaching and swiping. Bors watched, his mind wandered and his body grew taut each time her little pink tongue danced like a windshield wiper down her lower lip. What would it feel like if it were his tongue licking off that juice? He bet it would taste divine.
Hell, yeah. It would.

“So good.”

“I know.” He wouldn't be surprised if she licked the wrapper. Either she was really hungry or she'd never indulged herself in something as simple as a cheeseburger.

“So which one's mine. Chocolate or vanilla?” she asked while chewing. She was so Gawain.

“You can try both.”

“Really?” She dipped her hand inside the bag. “Love these fries, too. So crunchy.” Taylor picked up the chocolate milkshake, took a deep sip, then let out a big ahh. She did it a couple times with the same reaction each time she took a sip.

Bors noticed the tip of her tongue touch the straw before she trapped it between her teeth. The action was so freaking arousing. He began imagining her tongue touching the tip of his cock. He throbbed, his balls tightened. Goddamn it.

“Yummy. Here, take a sip before it's too late.”

He hesitated for a brief second before leaning forward to capture the tip of the straw with his lips. He tasted the chocolate and Taylor. Maybe he imagined it, but it didn't stop his dick from pulsing. Shit, he'd never had an erection while in his truck parked in front of a drive-in burger place packed with customers lined up to order. Until Taylor. “Yup, good. Do you eat like this all the time?”

“I love food. But I don't indulge myself with greasy, mouthwatering burgers like this. My God, this is so good.”

“Better than tarantula salad?”

“Arugula, silly. It's an aromatic green salad. You must have had it and didn't even know. It's popular in Italian cuisine. You should add it to your diet. Very low in calories and high in vitamins A and C.”

“No wonder you're skinny.” He took a bite of his burger, trying to drown Taylor's taste. Damn, if he weren't careful, his attraction would sky rocket and he might lose his control and kiss the damn woman to have a bit more of her taste.

Bors stopped chewing. Jesus. Not good. Mixing work with pleasure was never good. Worse, she could have had shared Jean's bed every single fucking night.

Man, Snitch was right when he said Taylor was a goddess. Jesus, if she were this beautiful, he could only imagine when she was naked. Bors gritted his teeth. No. He must stop his attraction. Taylor was a job, a key to Jean's jail. He must see to it that he got it. And he knew just how to go about it. Irritate her. If they stayed annoyed with each other, the attraction could be suppressed.

“When you called Dad, you changed your mind and hung up. Why?”

“I think you already know.”

“You weren't sure if Dad's the right person to call.”

“Not easy finding trustworthy people nowadays.”

“You don't trust people in general or men?”

“I do trust a few.”

“But none of them are judges, politicians ... agents.”

“Yup.”

Good to know. Lucky I didn't introduce myself as Agent Knight.

If she continued opening up, he might nail not one congressman, but more men in uniform. “You very well shouldn't trust anyone without knowing them first.”

“Are you saying that I should not trust you or your dad?”

“I'll leave it up to you. Trust is something we earn. Find out for yourself if we can be trusted or not. All I ask is you meet my dad.”

“Why would he offer that I meet him at his house and late at night?”

“Baby, if it weren't for my mom, he would spend his entire life in his office so he could help others. Our home is the extension of his office, but not open to most people. So consider yourself lucky.”

“That's what I heard, but you can't blame me for having doubts. I've been surrounded with liars, Bors. Men who boast that they love their wives, their daughters, and are God-fearing, but I've seen them come in and out of Jean's office. Smiling because Jean procured vir—”

“Virgins?”

“Yes. So you see why it's hard for me to trust men.”

Like me.
Bors made a mental note to keep his identity hidden. “I don't blame you.”

“You know, I have this idea that all men are the same. But after talking to Judge Knight, I think I'm wrong.”

“He's one of a kind.”

Taylor sighed. “Listening to your dad's voice, I could tell he's different. That's why I agreed that we meet.”

That was easy. He thought he'd have to paint a better picture to convince her. “How about me? I'm a troll, remember—and I chase women. Do you think you could trust me?”

“I think so. Something tells me that you're different, too.”

“Something tells you? What the heck does that mean?”

“A hunch.”

“A hunch?”

Jesus. She would trust a man because of a hunch. “Just like following your instinct,” he remarked caustically.

“Hey, don't be sarcastic. Don't tell me you never followed your instinct. Not even once.”

Bors shrugged. She was right. Remarkably, his instinct had saved his and Branyan's life many times before.

“Okay, with you I don't get the heebbegeebbies.”

“And the instinct, hunch, heebbegeebbies go together.”

“Kinda.”

“What's heebbegeebbies and how the fuck do you spell that word.”

“You could ask without cursing, you know. Forget the spelling. It's not in the dictionary, I think. Maybe in the urban one. Anyway, I get the heebbegeebbies when Jean's friends are around, except for Ray. I feel icky, dirty, and unsafe. Just feels weird.”

Bors waited for more, but Taylor didn't say anything else. She said she'd been around men. Well, she could have fooled him. Something about her bespoke innocence. Taylor proved to be a puzzle. And who was this Ray? Later, he'd find out and he bet he wouldn't have to dig deeper. He had a feeling that Taylor would volunteer everything he needed to know.

“Glad to know I don't make you feel like a caterpillar is crawling on your skin.”

“Me, too. I wouldn't be having this yummy dinner otherwise. You know what?” Taylor stared at him with a frown.

“What?”

“I think you pretend to be tough to scare people, but you aren't really.”

“The hell I'm not. I am capable of murdering anyone.”
If it's within the bounds of reasons.

Taylor's shoulders shook from undiluted laughter. It was marvelous and catching. “God, you should see your face. Sorry. Did I hurt your feelings?”

“No. You know what?”

“Uh-oh. Are you trying to get even?”

Bors grinned. “No, babe.”

“What?”

“You laugh like an angel, you have a face and body of a goddess, and you're in trouble. Why did you run away from Jean?”

* * * *

The once yummy hamburger suddenly lost its taste. Her mouth running away with her would be her downfall someday. God, Jean told her many times she was an obnoxious, foolish and loquacious talker. A chatterbox who never stopped complaining and criticizing him. He said, too, that her mouth would lead her to trouble. Now, it seemed, Jean was right. “I shouldn't have told you about Jean.”

“Listen, when you told Dad your name, he knew who you were running away from.”

How? Through the grapevine? Good God, did Jean issue an Amber Alert on her? But Jean wasn't like that. He hated involving the authorities in his dealings.
Ha! Goes to show you. You can't keep a secret when you're a politician. Ears are everywhere.

“So Judge Knight already knew why I called him?”

“He knows that Jean is after you. Believe it or not, Dad gets the feed twenty-four-seven. Some of them are false and some are slightly true. Being a judge is not easy.”

“What else does he know? And how come you know?”

“Aside from you're an escapee? Nothing. All Dad knows is that Jean is on the hunt and
you
are being hunted. I know because we talk. When you called, we were outside shooting the breeze.”

“Shooting the breeze. Is it your dad's habit to discuss confidential matters with you?”

“We're tight, babe. You do realize that you made an enemy of a foul beast.”

Taylor frowned. “I hope not. Others would see Jean as a beast, but ... he isn't all that. That's why I contacted your father.”

“He can only help you if you tell him everything.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“So are you going to answer my question on why you are running away from Jean?”

“Bors, you may be your father's son, but you are not
him
. I will talk to Judge Knight alone.”

“Until he's heard what you have to say, you're going to need someone to watch over you.”

“Oh, God! Another one.” For eight years, her constant companion was her bodyguard. The hell she'd want another one now that she was out. Super sexy hot or not, she didn't want him watching her.

“What do you mean another one?”

“A bodyguard. I'm tired of being followed and watched from sun up to sun down.”

“Jean hired a bodyguard to watch you?”

“I've said enough.”

“Taylor, I don't know how important you are to Jean, but the more I learn about you, the better Dad and I can protect you. Those who know how important you are to Jean might use you.”

“You mean find me and ask for a ransom?”

“Something like that.”

Only those who were close to Jean knew who she was. She was sure Jean pissed one or two of them off, but would they use her? Jean would never let them. She was sure of it. Taylor sighed. “I hope not. I think I want to go back to the cabin now.”

“Are you going to finish your burger?”

“No. It's too big. It hardly fits my mouth. It'll take me all night to finish this. Do you want it?”

“You betcha.”

“You can have it. Please take me back to the cabin.”

* * * *

Bors plugged in
The Doors
CD on the console. Jim Morrison's soft, low and haunting singing voice drowned out the silence in the truck and the sound of crunching rocks beneath his tires. Outside, nothing moved in the darkness. Even the tall trees seemed asleep.

Bors couldn't believe how quickly Taylor's mood changed. One minute she was a starving chatty woman, then she was a quiet somber one. He couldn't help but feel like a cad. He should have at least let her finish eating before he pressed her with questions about Jean. Keeping his gaze on the road, he switched his headlights to high beams.

“With the speed you're going, it'll be morning before we reach the cabin.”

He stole a glance at Taylor. A woman, alone with him in his truck, and she could hardly wait to go back to her cabin? Wow, he really ruined her mood. Or maybe he was such a bore. He hoped not. None of the male Knights were ever boring, especially around women. “I have to drive below the speed limit. In case you haven't noticed, it's too dark to see the road.”

“Fine. But we're practically crawling.”

“Wanna drive? Why don't you change the CD while you're at it?”

“You know I can't drive. But I can change the music?”

“Yes.” Taylor made a move to press the eject button, but he reached out and caught her hand in his. “Sike! Nobody touches anything on my dashboard.”

Taylor pulled her hand from his grip. “Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Frivolous airhead.”

“Those two words are the same.”

“Whatever.”

Bors met Taylor's scowl with a grin. He'd rather see her like this than with a sad face. Her mood didn't matter to him, he told himself. It was simply that she talked more when in a pissy mood, and he wanted her talking. “Don't you like Jim?”

“Hard to like someone I don't even know.”

“What? Everybody knows
Jim Morrison
. Man,
Light My Fire
? Baby, that's classic. Haven't you heard him sing until now?”

“Have you heard
Dawn
by Jean-Yves Thibaudet? No? Well not everybody loves Jean-Yves.”

“Wait, you have no case, Taylor. Jim is immortal, a God. One of the best singers, poets, artists who ever lived. Your Tibet is unheard of.” He changed his gear to first as he turned around the bend. A quiet night like this when animals were in abundance was as dangerous as the freeway during rush hour.

“Thibaudet. He composed the soundtrack for
Pride and Prejudice
.”

“Egad. How about Marcy Playground?
Sex and Candy
singer.”

“Never heard of him. Johann Sebastian Bach?”

“Of course I know him. We're hella tight, baby. In fact, we had lunch the other day.”

Taylor punched Bors on the arm.

“Hey, I'm driving!”

“You're not nice. I'm not talking to you. Just watch the road.”

Bors laughed. “You sound like my sister. Act like one, too.”

“Is she nosey like you?”

“Worse. She reads romance books with naked men on the cover.”

“Me, too. Oh, I bet I'll like her. Anyone who appreciates romance with a happy ever after—”

“You like looking at naked men, too?” Bors took a quick look at Taylor and wagged his eyebrows. “Good to know.”

She scowled. “I meant I like reading romance books. Most of them have hot guys on the cover. Not nude, mind you, but sensual and it provokes minds to think, to imagine.”