Fury on Fire (Devil's Rock #3)(36)

Her voice emerged much firmer. “No. We can’t. I can’t.”

Because this was insane. And she was not. She was sane. She was Faith Walters. A sensible woman. A woman who lived a safe life without risk. And face it. North Callaghan was a risk.

His eyes narrowed to slits. “What’s the matter? I’m not good enough for you? I don’t drive an Audi and wear slacks and have a membership to the local country club?”

His words struck like a well-aimed arrow.

She knew he knew about her date, but she had no idea he had been watching that closely. It didn’t make sense that he should be so very interested in who she was dating. That he gave a damn about her at all. That she was anything beyond a potential roll in the sack. It went against everything she thought she knew about him.

“That’s not it at all,” she denied, wanting to believe that she wasn’t that superficial. She wasn’t after the things he’d just accused her of wanting. She was a social worker. She could have gone to college to be anything else, but she spent her days working with the less fortunate and it definitely wasn’t because it paid the big bucks.

He nodded and smirked slightly. “It is. A little. Come on, admit it.”

She stubbornly shook her head. She wasn’t interested in Brendan Cooper for those reasons.

He continued, “I bet if your Fancy Pants boyfriend could get you this hot and bothered you’d be inviting him inside your house . . . inside your bed right this second.”

“I would not,” she insisted. Although she wasn’t so certain. She thought back to their date. Their very nice date. As far as first dates went, it barely registered on the Richter scale. If Brendan had entered her house and started making out with her with half the skill that North Callaghan just exhibited, would she have hesitated to jump his bones?

At his dubious look, she insisted, “I’m sure he can get me hot and bothered! We just haven’t tried yet . . .”

He laughed once, a hard bark that made her skin jump. “Sometimes it’s not a choice, you know. The chemistry is just there and you have to have each other.” His dark eyes heated and that battering ram was back again, beating against her chest so hard it hurt to breathe.

Oh, this guy was good. Every time he opened his mouth he affected her. She guessed that was the gift of bad boys. The thing that gave them the advantage over all the good boys of the world.

She shook her head, feeling confused. “Brendan and I just started dating. He’s a gentleman. If things continue to go well, then, yeah, our relationship will progress to that level.” She shook her head, suddenly angry with herself for feeling so defensive. She didn’t need to justify anything to North.

“That level?” He laughed harshly. “You mean our level?”

“The last time I checked you and I were not dating,” she snapped. “You are not Brendan.”

“In that we are both in agreement.” He looked smug as he flung that out at her. Then he shrugged, adding, “With enough time, maybe you and Fancy Pants will reach third base?”

Fury flashed through her. With both hands she gave his chest a mighty shove and hopped down off the car hood. Her hands flew to her robe, straightening it and making sure it was still in place, covering all her girl parts. She backed up, her feet sliding over the concrete as she closed the distance to her door.

“You’re a jerk!”

“You weren’t saying that a few minutes ago.”

She raked him coolly for good measure, doing her best to convey her utter contempt.

His deep brown eyes squinted at her. If possible his smirk went deeper. “Things would go much smoother if you just went ahead and let this happen between us.”

“You arrogant—”

“Not arrogant.” His smirk vanished as he closed the distance between them, stopping directly in front of her. “You and I are going to collide.” He allowed a fraction of space between them. “That’s where this train has been headed since the moment you moved in here.”

His face was so close. She could easily mark the light brown striations in his eyes. The dark fan of his lashes. The thick slash of his eyebrows. She thought for certain he was going to kiss her again. And contrary her . . . she leaned forward incrementally. “Don’t kiss me,” she pleaded in a whisper.

He chuckled lightly. “I won’t do that. You’ve drawn your line in the sand, Faith Walters. I’ll sit back and wait for you to step over it.” That said, he moved away, walking backward slowly, his gaze devouring her. When he reached his door he turned. Keys already in his hand, he unlocked his door and moved inside. Disappearing from her sight, though not disappearing from her thoughts.

She reentered her house, thoughts of him chasing after her, the sensation of him trailing her like a ghost.

It would be a long sleepless night.





FOURTEEN




That Monday Faith left work early for a dentist appointment. She’d gone to the same family dentist since high school. She had attended Sweet Hill High School with Dr. Brown’s goddaughter, Teeny Roberts. Contrary to what her name might indicate, Teeny Roberts wasn’t teeny. Considering Faith’s own impressive size, she was not one to cast aspersions either. Teeny was a member of the high school wrestling team and the biggest bully to come out of the Sweet Hill public school system since ever. Truly, training her in wrestling might have been an irresponsible move on behalf of the coaching staff as far as Faith was concerned.