Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(43)

Unfortunately, what she had on didn’t leave much to the imagination. The gathered silk of the little black dress clung to her like a second skin, and the sight of her rated a perfect 10 on his curve-o-meter.

The woman was straight-up slammin’! Jessica Rabbit in the flesh.

“Since you’re here, can you help me with my zipper?” She presented him with her smooth back as she let the robe droop around her elbows. He could see her bra strap between the halves of her dress.

It was black.

And lacy.

And now he was determined to kill whoever this Doctor Chris was before the * got the chance to see her in it.

Yup. Death. That’s what awaited the good doctor, the poor, clueless sonofabitch.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date after what happened between us last night,” he said, clenching his hands at his sides lest he be tempted to use them, not to zip her up, but to reach inside her dress to run them over all that pale, warm skin.

“Nothing happened between us last night but a couple of kisses, Jake.”

“It wasn’t nothing, and you know it,” he grumbled, trying and failing to rein in his temper. A red haze edged his vision. “I may have called a truce for the time being on any sort of physical contact between us, but that doesn’t mean the heat isn’t there. Try to deny it.”

“Deny it?” She glanced over her shoulder, her profile a work of art, as beautiful as a perfect breaking wave. “Why would I deny it?”

He lifted his chin and some of his tension slid away at her easy acknowledgment. Okay, so at least they could agree on one thing. It was a start.

“But it’s just chemistry,” she continued, “a biological compatibility.” Yeah, okay, that’s what he’d been thinking not ten minutes ago. “But if chemistry was the only thing needed to make a relationship work, everyone would be in a relationship, and the divorce rate would be a tenth of what it is.”

“What about love?”

“You don’t love me. Not really.”

Damnit. That was it!

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her, causing her hair to whip across his face and the smell of vanilla to tunnel up his nose until he had to grind his jaw to remember his promise and to keep from shoving her back against the wall, engage in a little repeat of that scene in the Clover Bar and Grill.

Only this time, he wouldn’t stop…

“Don’t you tell me how I feel,” he hissed, his nose barely an inch from hers. Her dove-gray eyes were wide and unblinking, and her plump lips, which she’d slathered in berry-red lipstick, parted in a little gasp.

His gaze slid down to her mouth and the flash of tongue inside.

Sonofabitch! He almost lost it. Almost threw his promise right out the window and pressed his lips to hers.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling out of his grasp. It took everything he had to release her. “I’m not trying to upset you. I swear I’m not. It’s just that I don’t believe you, Jake. I think you’ve confused lust with love.”

Um…ouch! And that hurt worse than her assertion that she didn’t love him, that maybe she’d never loved him. Because he’d known when she said those things she was lying. Shell wasn’t a very good actress. She couldn’t hide her feelings the way most women could. They were always right there, sitting on her sleeve and waving around at everyone passing by.

She had loved him once upon a time. So even though it’d stung—oh, buddy, how it’d stung—when she tried to contend otherwise, it hadn’t hurt nearly as badly as having her throw his profession of love back in his face.

Because he could tell by looking at her now, she wholeheartedly believed what she was saying.

She didn’t believe he loved her.

Goddamnit!

“And this Dr. Chris?” He ground his jaws together so hard it was a wonder he didn’t break a tooth. “Do you love him?”

If she said yes, he didn’t know what he’d do. No matter how satisfying the series of pictures that flashed through his brain, no matter how much he might like to, killing the good doctor was out of the question.

Although, in theory—

“Not yet,” she said, and his heart was able to beat again. “But given time, I could I suppose. But what does that matter? I don’t need to love a guy to go on a date with him.”

Uh-huh. And now for the next important question. There was that whole lizard brain thing to contend with after all. “So, do you lust for him?”

“No! I just—”

“Then what’s the goddamned point?” he demanded, wincing and stepping farther into the room when the curse reverberated around the hallway. “You don’t love him and you don’t lust for him, so there’s nothing to build on.”

“Would you listen to yourself? To what you’re actually saying?” she demanded, her eyes hot though her expression was still sad. Sad and a little desperate. “Of course there’s something to build on. There’s stability and consistency and reliability and—”

“You’ve got to kidding me!” He threw his hands in the air. “Those are the reasons you choose a car, not a husband!”

“Oh, for goodness sakes! We’re not animals! We crawled out of the jungle a long time ago, and no longer choose mates based solely by their muscle mass or how well they fight. Now, we have the ability to use that big round thing that sits on our shoulders and make an intellectual decision about who we want to spend the rest of our lives with.”