MIND READER (10 page)

“I have to focus,” she said, gripping the steering wheel.
“Otherwise, I might miss something important.”

The porch light flickered on a fourth time, and a woman
peeked out through a curtained window. “She’s noticed
us.”

“Yes.” Parker dumped his empty carton into the sack,
crunched it, and set it on the floorboard. “Her husband will be out in a minute.”

As if on cue, the front door opened and a man stepped
out onto the porch, wearing a yellow slicker and Mud Boots
. The woman stood behind him, watching. He walked
down the steps and headed toward them.

Parker waited until the guy passed the end of the box
hedge and turned onto the sidewalk. Then he pulled Caron
into his arms and dipped his head to kiss her. Near her mouth, he paused and brushed her lips with his fingertip. Her eyes stretched wide. Very pretty, that. “Mustard,” he whispered, then covered her mouth with his.

She let out a little gasp and pushed against his chest.

“Shh, kiss me, Caron,” Parker said, and as if she under
stood his motives then, she stilled her hands and let them
just rest against his chest. Beneath her fingers, he felt his
heart pound. God, but her lips were soft. And she smelled so good. So warm and sweet. He’d wanted to kiss her at
least a hundred times today.

Her fingers began moving, rubbing tiny strokes against
his jacket. She flattened her hand against it, as if the creamy
leather were seducing her palm. She wanted to touch him. Parker groaned and thrust his tongue deep into her mouth.
She tried pulling back, but he buried his hands in her hair
and held her firmly to him, crushing his lips down on hers.

“Parker,” she gritted out between sweeps of his tongue.
“Knock it off.”

“Shh.” He pulled back far enough to talk, but
his voice was as shaky as an old woman’s. “Make it look good, or
have your answers ready.”

From the corner of her eye, Caron saw the man near the
front of the car, and again fused her mouth with Parker’s. His lips were gentle, soft and heated, and he tasted faintly
of shrimp and brown gravy. She loved shrimp and smooth, hot brown gravy. He smelled wonderful, too. Like fresh air,
rain, and some heavenly cologne she’d didn’t recognize.
Very masculine. Very inviting. Very, very tempting.

He caught her lower lip and tugged, then plunged his tongue deep into her mouth. White heat washed through
her body, and Caron nearly melted into the seat. His throaty groan told her he had noticed her reaction, too.
And, determined that he not make a one-sided issue of the
matter later, she wound her arms around his neck, her fin
gers into the silky curls at his nape. Never in her life had she
felt anything so sensual as that silky curl wrapping around
her finger while the back of her hand caressingly brushed
against warm male skin.

A tapping on the window grew insistent.
 

Parker cranked down the glass without breaking
their kiss, then looked over at the man. “Yes?”

“What are you two doing out here?”

Parker thought that was obvious. Every window in the
car was steamed up. Caron tried to move away. He should
let her—their kiss had served its purpose and more. But he
held her to him. “We had a little disagreement,” he told the
man in an unsteady voice. “But everything’s fine now.”

The man gave Parker a totally male look. “Well, find a
motel. My old lady’s breaking her neck watching you two.”

Parker rolled the glass back up, then glanced at Caron.
Her hand rested in a fist against his chest. She kept her gaze
fixed on his neck, but even in the dim light he could see that
she was blushing.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” she said from between
gritted teeth. She pulled away, shifted over on the seat, and
gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles stood raised
like knobs. “Not ever.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Parker ignored the daggers she was sending his way. “I’ll admit you could use a little practice.
But you don’t kiss that bad.” If she’d been any better, he’d
have been making love with her on the front seat. That lack
of control over his own body infuriated him. Of all the women in the world, this one he
didn’t
want. The trouble was, his body did want her. And it wanted her badly.

“Shut up, Simms.”

“What did I do?” He knew exactly, of course. Her breathing hadn’t yet steadied, either. The aroused male in
him loved that; he knew from watching her that she didn’t
often come unglued in a man’s arms. But she’d come un-
glued in his.

“Would you just shut up?” She grabbed a tissue and
began swiping at the windows.

She didn’t look vulnerable now. She looked ready to
scratch his eyes out. Knowing she’d been just as affected as
he took away some of the sting. His body had betrayed
him. But hers had betrayed her, too. Lust was tough on the ego, and on the conscience. It demanded tackling before it
could be dismissed. So, Parker told himself, he’d tackle.
“What did you think?”

“About what?”

If she kept rubbing that same spot as hard as she was, she’d wear a hole in the windshield. He covered her hand with his and held it still. “About the kiss, Caron.”

She drew in a sharp breath, then let it out slowly. She didn’t fight him, didn’t try to free her hand. It felt small, nearly fitting into his palm. And warm. So warm.

“I didn’t like it.”

Her breath warmed his face. He smiled into her eyes.
Passion still lurked there. She’d liked it...too much. “Good. I didn’t like it, either.”

That frosted her voice. “You don’t make sense. Has anyone ever told you that? You kiss like an inferno, then claim you’re an iceberg. Are you always like this?”

He brushed her hair back over her shoulder. Her flesh quivered under his hand. “Look, honey, let’s cut to the
chase.”

“I’m not your honey.”

  
“No, you aren’t. But for some reason neither one of us can figure, our bodies have been whispering sweet noth
ings to each other all day and half the night. No, don’t deny
it. I’m not dull, and neither are you.”

“Okay, I won’t. I can be honest about my feelings,” she said, strongly implying that he couldn’t. “You’re a gorgeous hunk. What woman wouldn’t react to that? But I don’t like you, Parker. And I hate myself for knowing that
and yet still finding you appealing. Inside, you’re as phony
as they come.”

“Phony?” He frowned, genuinely surprised. “Me?”

“You,” she insisted. “You weren’t any more attracted to
Meriam Meyer than you are to me, yet you were able to cozy up to her as though she was irresistible.”

His jaw hung loose. Where did she come off, saying
he
was a phony? “In case you didn’t notice, Snow White, it
was our plan for me to keep Meriam occupied so you could
have some privacy to steal the book.”

“Oh, I noticed. You were all over the woman.”

“I wasn’t.” Was she jealous? Impossible...
 
Maybe...

Caron reached over and made an exaggerated show of
tenderly brushing an invisible speck from his cheek, then
gave him a smile that turned his mind to mush and his body
into a furnace. “What’s that action called, then?”

Parker gritted his teeth. “It’s called, getting an ink smear
off a woman’s face.”

“Right.”

“That
is
right.” He had half a mind to kiss her again, to let her feel every drop of his heat. Instead, he shifted his
body weight to lean against the door. “With your ‘gift,’ you should’ve known that.”

“My gift only works on important matters. And that
certainly doesn’t include you.”

If that was true, then why was she so ticked? “So you
can’t tell what I’m thinking.” He’d been worried about
that, in case there was a grain of truth to her psychic claims.

She slumped her shoulders and rubbed her temple. “No.”

“Why not?” He was surprised she’d admitted it.

“I just told you.”

Because he wasn’t important? That didn’t wash. She ex
pected him to believe she saw images of complete strang
ers. “But you can read other people’s thoughts.”

“Some of the time.”

Parker softened his voice. “So why not mine?”

“I don’t know.” She slumped forward over the steering
wheel, clearly exasperated.

She did know. But he was pushing her too hard. There was a strain in her now that hadn’t been there earlier. She
was a phony who needed exposing, but she was a human being, too, a woman. And women required finesse, not
bullying. “Would it help if I apologized?”

She rolled her cheek against the wheel and looked at him.
Her voice sounded hopeful. “Would you mean it?”

He hadn’t done anything to apologize for. Kissing a
beautiful woman with shadows in her eyes wasn’t a crime
 
just stupid, considering the woman he’d kissed was Caron
Chalmers. But to find out what he wanted to know... “Yes.”

“Yes, then. It would help.”

“Okay.” He leaned over, covered her hand on the wheel
and felt her tremble. “I’m sorry, Caron.”

“Fine.”

If her voice got any tighter, she’d squeak, but she didn’t move her hand. The top of hers nestled under his palm. Warm. Tiny. Fragile. When he knew what she was, what she’d done, how could she strike him in that way? How
could she make him want to prove her innocent? How could she touch him emotionally?

They lapsed into silence. Rain pattered against the windows and the hood of the car, steady, rhythmic, relaxing.
The silence wasn’t heavy, Caron decided, just indicative of
both of them being tied up in their own thoughts. She watched the drops hit, bead into balls and glisten in the glow from the streetlamp. Rubbing her leg with her free
hand, she wondered why Parker was still holding her other hand. Why didn’t he move it? Why didn’t
she?
Did not be
ing alone in this situation feel
that
good?

“Where do you come from?” Parker asked.

“Here.” She rubbed harder, grazing her shin. Her leg felt
swollen, but it wasn’t.

“Me, too.” He sighed. “You are single, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Single,” he repeated. “As in no husband to hunt me
down for being alone with you in a dark car.”

“I wish I was married. You could use a little attitude adjustment. But, no, I’m not.”

She studied the feel of her leg, wishing she’d worn a skirt
instead of slacks so that she could better isolate the pain. The girl must be injured. Caron sensed swelling.

“Do you have family here?”

“They’re in Mississippi.” She glanced at him. “You?”

“My mother and Megan.” He let his head loll back against the seat. “You remind me of her.”

“Who?”

“My mother.”

Caron grimaced. “Just what a girl wants to hear.”

That remark earned her a grin that was more lethal than
his smile. “Yeah, well...She’s a special woman.”

“Most mothers are.”

“Do I detect an ‘except mine’ somewhere in there?”

“No.” Caron fiddled with the keys dangling from the
ignition. “Including mine.”

“Hmm...” Her words said one thing, her tone some
thing else. Her relationship with her mother was strained;
he’d have bet his license on it. “What about your dad?”

She stiffened. “I haven’t seen him for a long time.”

Pain etched her voice, and Parker just couldn’t make himself push her. He rubbed her thumb with his.

After a long moment, he looked over at her. The strain
was still there, around her eyes, but she was in control again. “You haven’t told me what Sandy said about Decker.”

Caron paused, then decided that if he was to be of any use to her, Parker had to know what was going on.

She wished for the hundredth time that she could read his
thoughts. She couldn’t read Sandy, because she refused to probe. That wasn’t the problem with Parker. But she was positive she’d figured it out. It was so basic, so simple that she couldn’t believe it had stumped her. Physical awareness dulls psychic awareness. The moment she’d looked
into his eyes, her awareness of Parker Simms had tossed her
into a total psychic shutdown. “Sandy didn’t find any
thing on Decker. Not even a traffic violation.”