Page 23 of Lawless in Leather

“And what exactly did you learn?”

She slid off his lap. He didn’t stop her.

“That my first instincts were right,” she said. “That this is a bad idea.”

“So you liked it, then.”

She definitely wasn’t going to dignify that statement with a response.

Two more retreating steps put some more much-needed distance between them. “I’ll introduce you to Luis,” she said firmly.

Mal looked at her another few seconds then nodded. “If you say so.” He unfolded himself out of the chair, making her wish desperately for her stilettos once again. He was too tall. Too annoying. Too … tempting. Standing there, looking half amused by her, as though he hadn’t just had his hands on her body and his tongue down her throat.

“Though,” he said, running one hand through his hair before tugging the edges of his T-shirt down where she’d rumpled it up past his hip. “For the record, I’d like to state that I think that I disagree with your assessment of the situation.”

“Noted. But when it comes to who kisses me, I get the deciding vote.”

He smiled then, slow and sure, and she wasn’t sure if it was lust or irritation heating her blood. Though it was probably lust. Irritation had never made her weak at the knees before.

“Well, then,” he said with a drawl that made her think that at some point in his life he’d spent no little time either in the southern states or surrounded by southerners. “I guess I’ll just have to work on changing your opinion.”

Raina led Mal back down through the club to the back office where Luis was likely to be hiding, working hard not to turn back and look at him every few seconds. She was aware of him walking behind her, aware of the space he took up, of the boundaries and lines of his body.

Almost as though she could describe exactly where he was without looking. As though the tingle on her skin and the weight of his gaze on the back of her head drew a perfect image of him in her mind.

Unsettling.

Sometimes she’d gained that sort of awareness with a dance partner, the kind where you could reach out a hand and know where they were without looking. But that was a hard-won awareness, born out of hours of sweat and moving together. Of trusting and learning each other.

She couldn’t remember it happening with a lover.

And Mal wasn’t even her lover.

She intended it to stay that way. Luckily Madame R’s wasn’t that big and she reached Luis’s office and rapped on the door with relief. She didn’t usually stand on ceremony around here but since Luis and Brady had gotten married, they were enjoying some sort of honeymoon frenzy. It wouldn’t shock her to catch them wrapped around each other, but she couldn’t be sure how Mal would react.

“Come on in.” Luis’s deep voice echoed from behind the door and she threw it open.

Luis was sitting at the desk in front of the bank of security screens, which were a lot older and less sophisticated than Mal’s at Deacon. The pictures were gray and grainy, and Luis was frowning at one of the images, which had dissolved into static. A second screen was completely black. That one, Raina knew, was the feed the vandalized camera at the front door should have been producing. The one they’d need to replace if it couldn’t be cleaned.

Raina joined Luis by his desk, trying not to make it too obvious that she was trying to put some distance between her and Mal. Luis shot her a quizzical look but didn’t say anything.

“Luis, this is?—”

“Malachi Coulter,” Luis said. “He was at the door earlier.” He levered himself out of his seat and held out a hand to Mal. “Mr. Coulter. Nice to meet you. How’s that team of yours shaping up?”

Luis was a Saints fan. Damn, she’d forgotten that.

“Well, spring training went well. We’ve filled our roster, picked up a couple of good pitchers, so now we find out if we made the right choices.”

“I saw that Basara kid on one of the televised games,” Luis said, nodding enthusiastically. “He’s got an arm on him.”

“He’s got some potential,” Mal agreed. “I’m looking forward to seeing how he does.”

Much as it was a relief to have some of Mal’s attention focused on someone other than her for a little while, Raina knew she had to nip this particular topic of conversation in the bud. Otherwise Mal and Luis would be talking baseball for hours. Which wouldn’t get him out of her club and out of her head anytime soon.

“Luis,” she said. “Mal looks after security for the Saints. He noticed our door and the camera and offered to see if there was anything he could do.”

Luis’s dark eyes narrowed briefly and Raina wondered if she was going to be in the middle of some sort of male power game. But apparently baseball trumped any ego Luis might have about his systems, because he shrugged.

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