CHAPTER THREE
Jackie
I couldn’t believe I had just run into the main road. As I saw the headlights I realized and I screamed. The car stopped.
A man jumped out. Just then, that wasn’t what I wanted to see. My heart was still surging from the run I’d just had. Somewhere behind me the Five Star Gang was still looking for me. And now here was more trouble.
“Wait!” he shouted.
I froze where I was—instinct of lifetimes—and then ran onward, my feet slipping on the sidewalk. I was heading up it in the same direction as the traffic was going—away from the man. At least If I stay by the main road, they won’t do anything to me. Too many people would see them.
“Please…” the man’s voice called behind me. “Wait?”
I stopped and turned around. Some instinct told me he was not a gang boss or some other nefarious character. He said please, for a start. And if he’d been lying in wait for me, why would he have slammed on brakes in time not to kill me? He had walked a few paces behind me, and now stood about five meters away. I could see his shoes from where I stood, my hands on my knees, breathing deeply. I guessed I should say thank you.
“Thanks,” I said, still leaning over. “Thanks for not squashing me.”
He whistled. “Don’t thank me,” he said with a laugh. “But…why were you running back there? You looked scared.”
“I was.”
I straightened up and looked at him. My heart was beating at more or less the proper rate now. My eyes moved from his shoes to his face. Then stopped right there.
He is so, so stunning.
Of all the strange things to think when it’s late at night and you’ve just been chased by a notorious street gang, that was probably the strangest. But I couldn’t help it. He was stunning. With magnificent brown hair, blue eyes and a thin face that looked like a master sculptor had chiseled it with precision tools, I couldn’t take my eye off him. Not to mention the rest of him. He was tall—about six foot four, I guessed, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist and long, muscled legs.
“Do you need to go somewhere?” he asked with a smile. Gorgeous smile. “Only…it’s raining and I can’t leave you out in the cold.”
Not only was he stunning, he was polite too. And he’d just offered me a lift.
“I’m okay,” I said, turning back to the road.
Just because he looked like a fairytale prince didn’t mean he wasn’t a murderer or something. If I got into a car alone with him, anything could happen. I patently wasn’t okay. I was more or less lost, my car was outside the school and I had no way of reaching it again without going through the worst area of town. In the middle of the night. When it was raining.
He raised a brow. He didn’t need to say anything more. The rain was coming fast now. I shivered and stood there, thinking through my options. I didn’t take long—there were only two. Stay here on the sidewalk and freeze, or go with Mr. Sexy.
“It’s raining,” he said redundantly. “I can’t leave you out here.”
I smiled. “Thank you.” He looked surprised that I’d accepted so easily. I laughed. “I accept. I guess you’re not a mass murderer or something?” I asked casually as we walked back toward the stoplight, where his car was still parked. He unlocked it, then stared at me.
“Sorry?” he burst out laughing. “Am I what?”
“Well,” I said, impatient. It wasn’t a stupid question. “You could be. Out here alone in the dark, stopping to help me. Why should I trust you?”
He sighed. “Good question. I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I can’t prove I’m not, can I? We could go to the police station and ask them to do a clearance, but it’s late and it’s dark and I don’t think we want to do that. Without that, could you trust me?”
I put my head on one side and looked at him. It was cold and the rain was getting down the back of my neck. He had kind eyes, I decided. And the way he was looking at me, so hesitant, as if he expected me to slap him and run away, decided me.
“I’ll try.”
He smiled. A big smile this time. It lit up his eyes, crinkling them at the corners. He had a smooth face apart from the faint trace of lines around his eyes and I guessed him to be no more than four years older than me—at the most. He looked happy with my reply.
“Thanks,” he said humbly. “Now do you think we could get in? It’s really wet out here and we’ll get cold.”
I laughed. “Thanks.”
He slid into the driver’s seat and I got in and shut the door. It was only when I was sitting there, perched awkwardly on the seat, that I realized it was a leather seat and the dashboard was beautifully matte and intimidating and the car was easily the most stylish one I’d seen.
I looked at him shyly. He looked back. Who was this guy? Oddly, he looked equally shy. Why? He looked like Prince Charming and drove whatever this car was…why would he, of all people, be shy? Anyway—for whatever reason it was clearly up to me to break the silence.
“Sorry,” I said with a laugh. “I guess I should say something. I’m Jackie Jefferson.”
“Oh.” He smiled. “Rude of me—I’m Scott West.”
“Hi, Scott,” I said, holding out a hand. He shook it. His hand was warm, the grip muscled and firm. It felt nice on my hand. I shivered and our eyes met.
Was it my imagination, or was there a little glint in those eyes? It wasn’t because I was cold that I was shivering. The car was warm and my toes were thawing nicely. It was the way he looked at me that made me shift awkwardly in my seat, taking back my hand.
He looks like he wants me.
It was a surprise. I was not what I considered a beauty. Compactly-built with a gentle-looking face and big boobs, I always thought the boobs were my chief—my only—attraction. But under my winter coat he couldn’t see them. He could only see, well, me.
“Ahem.” I cleared my throat, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. “Sorry, I nearly crashed into you back there. Were you on your way somewhere?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” he said. “Just going home.”
“Oh.”
I glanced sideways at him. He was wearing a very expensive-looking suit in navy blue, the shirt white and screaming designer wear. His hair was styled immaculately and he smelled of a rich, spicy cologne, the smell of which was doing something odd to my loins. If this is what he wears to work, well…he doesn’t work on this side of town, anyhow.
“I took a detour,” he explained smoothly. “Now, I need to ask you something. Where can I take you?”
I cleared my throat again, banished the distractions from my mind and said, very properly, “Eight Camden Way, please.”
He nodded. “We should stop and put that in the GPS.” He swerved off the road at the next stopping place and reached for the GPS. As he fiddled about in the glove box, his hand brushed my thigh. I jerked at the contact. I had just been running from a gang. If I closed my eyes, I could still hear the yells. I was tired now, my nerves shattered. I closed my eyes.
“Sorry,” he said. He looked into my eyes, and I sighed. The merest touch of his hand had set off a chain reaction inside me, and I felt a deep sense of longing. I closed my eyes momentarily.
“It’s okay,” I managed. “Don’t worry about it.”
He smiled back. “Cars never seem to have enough room in them, do they?”
“No.” I wondered what we might need extra room for, but then bit my lip. Just because he was stunning and sexy didn’t mean he thought about sex all the time. I was sure he was just thinking about getting me back to my home and out of the rain. And right now, with my nerves so on edge and my heart still fluttering in my chest, that was pretty much what I wanted too.
“Okay. Ready to go. Eight Camden Way coming up.”
“Thank you,” I said in a small voice.
“Pleasure.”
I leaned back and shifted in the seat, appreciating the feel of the car as it drew off smoothly.
“Awesome car,” I managed to say.
“Thanks.” He grinned. He was evidently really proud of this car, as he well should be. “A BMW i8. I love it too. Awesome handling. Quiet. And the acceleration on this thing…I’d show you, but we’d get caught by the cops and I don’t think we want that right now.”
I smiled. He sounded so enthusiastic when he talked about cars. It made me wish I knew more about them, just so I could see him smile. My dad was a mechanic, and I did know some things.
“It’s got the new three-cylinder engine?” I asked.
He looked at me, amazed. “Yeah! How did you know that?”
“My dad’s a mechanic,” I said shyly. He looked so pleased that I knew something about cars! I looked at my hands and my face flushed.
“Not many people know car stuff like that,” he said, sounding impressed.
“It’s the first time I spoke to a guy about engines,” I admitted shyly. He laughed.
“Well, don’t get me started! I could talk about them all day.”
“Really?” That interested me. What did this guy do for a living? He looked like he must work in film—acting in it, he had the looks—but why did he know engines?
“Yeah. Whoops…we missed a turn, didn’t we?” he asked, looking back at the screen. “See? You distracted me.”
I laughed. “Sorry. Got carried away.”
“My fault,” he said. “Well, we seem to have a new route…Tell me when I get to the turn.”
“I’ll try,” I said. Focusing on the little illuminated screen was hard. I was so tired. I hadn’t realized how running from that gang had frayed my nerves ‘til now.
“Ah, there we are.” He took the right turn and we headed off back into the town. As we drove, I felt myself getting more and more exhausted. I was cold too. I started shivering about a block away from my apartment. By the time we got there, I was shuddering violently.
“Hell,” he said, looking sideways at me. “You don’t look okay.”
“I’m…fine…” I managed to say through chattering teeth. I wasn’t. My head was pounding and I had a suspicion my temperature was going up. I felt achy and tired and cold.
“Is this it?” he asked, as the GPS made a noise and we reached my apartment building.
“Yes,” I said, clenching my teeth to stop the noise of them. “Thanks.”
He stopped the car in the driveway, but didn’t get out. He looked at me, worriedly. “You know, I can’t just leave you like this.”
“I’ll be f…fine,” I said, biting my lip to stop the shakes. “Just let me off and I’ll…manage.” Heck, what was wrong with me? Every inch of my body was shuddering and I couldn’t see straight.
“No,” he said. “I won’t. At least let me walk you inside.”
“Thanks,” I said. He got out and opened the door for me. I blinked. No one had ever done that for me before. I looked into his eyes. He looked into mine.
We didn’t say anything, but it felt as though a little spark jumped from me to him. I shuddered and let it warm my body a little.
“Come on,” he said, shaking his head. “Let’s get you in.”
I walked slowly up the steps beside him. When we reached the door, I went blank. I had to put in the code. Suddenly it was gone out of my brain. “Uh…”
He looked at me and I felt annoyed and embarrassed.
“I can’t remember the damn code,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My mind’s gone blank. Oh…” I swayed back a little, righted myself. The memory returned. I punched in the four numbers and the door opened. “There.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at me worriedly and held back the door as I passed through. I took the door from him, leaning against the hydraulic arm with all my weight. That was when everything went blank and I collapsed.
“Jackie?”
I came to a moment later. He was kneeling beside me with his hand on my cheek. The door was shut and we were both in the dark foyer of the building. His face was hovering close to mine. I was looking straight into his eyes.
In that moment, something happened. I don’t know what it was. But I felt it and he seemed to feel it to. He leaned in closer and I leaned up and his lips brushed against mine.
Oh. My.
His lips against mine were sweet and tender and their touch was so brief and so gentle that it made my insides clench with longing. I reached up and my hand traced his cheek. Our eyes were locked again.
“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you off the floor. It’s cold down here.”
“I can…manage,” I said shakily. He chuckled and bent down, drawing me to my feet. I swayed and leaned against him.
“No, you can’t,” he insisted stubbornly. “Now let me get you up to your apartment. Here’s the lift…” he pressed the button for the door and it opened and he followed me inside. I was grateful for that—at that moment, I could barely stand up straight. And besides. He was close and warm and exciting and my body was aching with longing now that we were here in this small space, filled with warm light and the scent of cologne, rich and musky.
We looked at each other for a moment. Then, very gently, he repeated the kiss he had given me earlier in the hallway. I leaned against his chest and reached to stroke his hair. His tongue grazed along the line of my lips, probing and warm. I parted them a little and he slid in.
I had never imagined kissing like this. It was different. I closed my eyes as his tongue slid between my lips, firm and tangling, lightly, with mine. I tensed as the tip of his tongue encountered the tip of mine and gently licked it, then moved on. It was as if he was tasting me, licking my mouth with his tongue, exploring me inside. I melted against his chest and clung to him, my body pressed against him.
It was mad and we both likely knew that. We didn’t know each other at all. We had just met at the wrong end of town in the night. In winter, in the pouring rain. But that kiss was amazing and it was firing my blood beyond anything I had ever felt before. And somehow, we knew that we both wanted each other and it was right and good and absolutely, exactly, what we needed.