Tempt Me (13 page)

He looked down, staring
at the battered little leather notebook he carried in his jacket
pocket. But she suspected he wasn't paying any attention to the
notes he'd made. His shoulders rose and fell on a sigh and then
he looked up, his gaze locking with hers. “I know that, Rock. I
just worry. I don't want to see you hurt.”

“
I don't want
to see me hurt, either.” She forced herself to smile. “Hurt,
bad. I get that.”

He skimmed a hand back
through his hair. “Lady, I hope you do. Okay, then. So you'll
call if you need me, right? No matter how small a thing it seems?”

“
Absolutely.”
And she meant it. She was
not
going to be a victim again. It
wasn't going to happen.

“
Alright. I don't
like this, not any of it. But alright.” He blew out a breath. A
forced smile came and went on his face. “So. You still seeing
that lawyer or did you at least wise up on that level?”

Until then, Lacey had
kept quiet, but now she groaned and said, “Damn it, Clayton,
leave her love life out of it.” She made a face at Rocki. “I
think he's still hung up on you and having issues. Just ignore
him.”

Rocki tensed, the idea
making her ridiculously uncomfortable. From the corner of her eye,
she saw a red flush creeping up Clayton's neck, across his
face. His voice was easy enough as he said, “Oh, I've got
all sorts of issues. My kid sister's best friend is dating a
lawyer—that would give anybody a complex.”

“
Yeah, I'm
still seeing the lawyer.” Absently, she toyed with her hair.
She'd woven it into two long braids today. Unaware of the smile
on her face, she stared out the window. “We're going out
tomorrow night.”

Third date
. She
could definitely have sex with him on their third date, she thought.
His place? Hers? She didn't know, didn't care.

“
Man. I gotta get
out of here,” Clayton said, his voice brusque. “I can't
stand to see you standing there with that smile on your face...over a
lawyer
.”

As he left, Lacey shot
Rocki a look, and they both started to laugh.

“
I'd like to
see you tonight.”

Gripping the phone in one
hand, Rocki pressed her other hand to her belly.
Slow it down
…just a little.
But out loud, she simply replied,
“Tomorrow will be here before you know it. What happened to
whatever thing you had going on tonight?”

“
Fell apart.”
Cole sighed. “I was supposed to be out of town, work stuff.
Didn't happen.”

“
Ahhh.” She
finished shutting down the computer and then stood up, began making a
circuit around the shop. It had been a slow day. Usually things got
slower after Valentine's Day, then picked back up again
sometime in March when people starting getting a lot more serious
about weddings and stuff. She was used to it mostly, but slow days
were still tedious.

“‘
Ahhh
'...what
does that mean, exactly?”

“
Just that.”
She smiled as she paused by a table and straightened up the display
there. Rocki was honest enough with herself to admit that she was
tempted to tell Cole he could come over, but she was still a little
leery. Two dates. And one wild night of sex.

And she was restless.
Edgy. Plus, irritated as hell, still, from the discussion with
Clayton earlier. Not exactly ideal company, really. And damn it, if
he
wanted
to see her, couldn't he just
ask
?

Well, he sort of did
,
a calm, rational voice pointed out. Rocki brushed it off. That hadn't
been
asking
. He'd just been mentioning it. He hadn't
asked
.

“
So, tomorrow,
right? Six?” She needed to get off the phone now before she
started clueing him in on her psycho mood swings.

“
Six.” He
hesitated, almost like he wanted to say something else. But then he
sighed. “You have a good night, Rocki. Think about me.”

“
Hmmm. I do that
all too often, handsome.” Then she lowered the phone and
disconnected, staring off into nothing.

If she'd wanted
you to come over, she would have asked
, he thought.

Cole figured he needed to
turn around. Go back home. Spend the night alone.

But he didn't.

He made a couple of
stops. The liquor store for a bottle of wine. A small boutique that
was open later than some, selling chocolate and flowers. She hadn't
had much of a Valentine's Day, right? He could make up for
that. And see her.

He just wanted to see
her. No. Needed to.

And even if it was just
for a few minutes, it was better than nothing.

Rocki finished up in the
store twenty-five minutes later. Brooding and wishing she'd
maybe asked Cole to meet her, she locked up and started toward her
car.

It was cold, the bite of
winter still heavy in the air, despite the fact that it was almost
near the end of February. The corset she wore managed to keep her
warmer than one would think, and the camisole she wore under it rose
high enough to keep her chest from being too cold. She'd always
been terribly lazy with coats. She had one on now, but as always, she
hadn't bothered to button it and she was
cold
.

As she hurried toward her
car, the low, thick heels of her motorcycle boots thudding heavily on
the ground, she muttered, “Spring. I want
spring
.”

Warm sun.

Longer days.

Fewer shadows—

Suddenly, one of the
shadows shifted.

Rocki jerked her head up
as a man emerged from them. Her breath caught in her chest, lodged
there.

In the past ten years,
Dwayne Carpenter's solid body hadn't softened much. He'd
played football in college and a lot of that bulk was still there.
He looked…older, though. Older. Meaner. As he lifted a hand
to stroke his jaw, she suppressed a shiver, remembering just how much
pain those big hands had been capable of causing.

He had very cold, very
cruel eyes—she hadn't seen that back all those years ago.
At least not right away. But it was unmistakable now. She went
still, staring at him. With one hand in her pocket, she gripped her
phone and wondered if she could call
9-1-1
without him
noticing.

“
Hello, Roxanne.”
That voice—fuck. Lower than it used to be, raspier. Harsher.
That voice was distinctive, and she knew she'd heard it
before…and recently. The night of the auction. Son of a
bitch
.
It had been him there that night, the other one bidding on her.

“
Dwayne.”

He took a step toward
her. Her first instinct was to step back, but she didn't. She
held her ground, watching him, as he closed the distance even more.
“You look as beautiful as ever.”

She didn't respond.
What was the point?

“
Nothing to say?”

“
And why should I
say anything?” Rocki lifted a brow. “You want me to say
thanks
to the man who tried to rape me eleven years ago?”

Somebody ugly and cold
flashed through his eyes. But he smiled. “Perhaps you should be
saying ‘thank you' to the man who never stopped loving
you. Never stopped thinking about you. I saw you at the auction—you
looked lovely, but you shouldn't parade around like that.
It's…not acceptable.”

Acceptable
? She
curled her lip at him.

He was closer now and he
lifted a hand. But before he could touch her, Rocki used her left arm
to block him, putting enough force behind it that it sent a jolt
clear up her arm. “Don't touch me,” she warned.

“
Bitch.” A
snarl twisted his face. “Don't you fucking know what I do
when you piss me off? And your cop's not around any
more...yeah, I heard about that. He can't protect you now.”

Rocki smiled. “I
don't need a man protecting me, Dwayne.” She shifted, set
her feet, absently saying a prayer of gratitude that she'd put
on a different kind of shoes today. Normally, she would have worn
something with high heels. But today, she'd pulled on a pair of
Harley Davidson boots—flat and heavy with solid, sturdy soles.
She could move just fine, without worrying about breaking an ankle.

Hate and possessiveness
burned in Dwayne's eyes. “Don't you? You hid behind
him for years. Fucking cunt. Can't do it now, though—I
finally heard he got what was coming to him, that fucker. Rotting in
his grave and you can't hide behind him.”

“
I didn't
hide behind him. I married him.” Slipping a hand into her coat
pocket, she said, “You need to leave now. Just get the hell
away and stay away. I've already called the cops about the
cards and the flowers. The investigating officer is already looking
for
you
.”

“
Is he?”
Dwayne laughed. “That's funny, because I'm not
here
tonight—I got a friend who will swear I was working on a car
with him.”

Then he lunged for her.

Rocki shifted her weight
and kicked. The fucking corset threw her balance off, but she
managed, driving the sidekick straight into his gut. As he stumbled
backward, she settled back onto her feet. “I'm not the
helpless girl you remember, jackass.”

Cutting a wide berth
around him, she started toward her car. She was going to get inside,
lock the fucking door, and get away from here. Once she did that,
she'd call the cops.

Wine. Chocolate. Flowers.
All accounted for. Cole was going to swing by the shop first, make
sure she wasn't there. Part of him kind of hoped she was, and
part of him—the very perverted, very male part of him—was
wondering if he could talk her into modeling a few pieces she had in
her store...for him. It was a fantasy he'd been living with all
damn week.

Although he realized that
might be sort of rushing things.

He couldn't stop
thinking about her, though.

All the time—she
was in his head, all the time. Could you fall in love that fast? Was
it healthy to even
think
he could have fallen in love that
fast? He was just a couple of weeks out of a break-up, and although
it hadn't been a bad one on his part, he realized he should
maybe take things slower with Rocki.

Be patient.

Make sure he wasn't
just reacting to Rocki because of some latent issues with Mara—

His phone rang.

And the ringtone had him
swearing.

Speak of the devil...or
the Wicked Witch of High Street.

He almost ignored it. But
he figured he might as well see what she wanted so he wasn't
ignoring phone calls every ten minutes for the rest of the night.
Parking in front of Rocki's store, he answered the phone.

Dwayne was still damn
fast, a fact that Rocki figured out only seconds before she would
have been in her car. She saw him coming and darted away, refusing to
be caught between him and
any
object, even if it was her car.

“
You need to leave
me alone,” she warned him, her voice shaking. He needed to
leave her alone, and he needed to do it now because damn it, that
look in his eyes was terrifying.

Damned terrifying.

“
Do I?” He
sneered and made another grab for her. This time, thick, strong
fingers caught the sleeve of her coat.

With a desperate jerk,
she tore away from him, stumbling a little before she caught her
balance. “Stop it, Dwayne. You think you're not going to
get
caught
, you fucking idiot? You'll be the first
person they look at.”

He only laughed. This
time, when he came after her, he moved too fast. She hit
him—something in her hand snapped—she felt it, the hot,
vicious pain so bright and hot. Blood fountained from his nose and
spilled all over her as he took her down.

The air exploded out of
her lungs and seconds later, she was struggling to breathe at all as
he shoved his forearm against her throat, using his other hand to
tear at the busk of her corset. “Bitch.
My
fucking bitch
and you won't forget it this time.”

Black dots swirled in
front of her. Pain, ugly and clawing, tore through her.
Couldn't
black out—couldn't
. Her right hand was useless. But
she'd be damned if she would let this happen to her again. A
sweet gust of air rushed into her lungs as he lifted his weight just
a little, still struggling to loosen the corset—

The absurd, foolishness
of those actions might have made her laugh hysterically if she could
have spared the breath. There was no way he'd get her out of it
that
easily. But between his weight crushing her, and the
corset itself, she couldn't laugh at the futility of it—he
might as well have been trying to tie his shoes using his teeth.