Page 7 of Back in Black

Such a simple touch, but it charged him. “We need someplace more private to talk.”

Alarm stiffened her shoulders, but she brazened it out. “Yes, of course. I have a game plan I’d like to go over with you anyway. Why don’t we meet over lunch tomorrow and we can discuss everything?”

“I’m busy.” He took a step closer and leaned down on the pretext of ensuring she’d hear him. “Make it dinner, and I’ll be free.”

At his nearness, she caught and held her breath.

A telling reaction, that. She’d picked up on the same chemistry he felt. That’d make things easier.

And hotter.

With his mouth almost touching her ear, he whispered, “Gillian?”

“Oh.” She shivered, then leaned away from him. “Yes, dinner is fine.”

Sensitive ears. Where else was she sensitive? He couldn’t wait to find out.

“My place, then.” Drew took out a silver card holder from his pocket, flipped through it for his more personal card, and handed one to her. “My address is on there. I’m sure a sharp businesswoman like yourself can find her way there. Six o’clock. Don’t be late, Gillian.”

She tried to protest, no doubt preferring they meet at an impersonal restaurant, but Drew had already turned away. On his way out the door, he smiled.

He’d give Ms. Gillian Noode a week, no more, and she’d be packing it in for easier game. But before then, he’d have her, and he’d show her such a good time, she’d give up the challenge with no regrets at all.

CHAPTER 2

BRETT walked past Ms. Noode, where she stood motionless, staring at . . . nothing. He put a hand to her back.

“Ms. Noode? You okay?”

She blinked and focused on him. “What? Oh, yes. I just got outplayed, that’s all. But no worries, I’m better at this game than that chauvinist jerk thinks.”

Brett had no idea what she was talking about, but he assumed the jerk was Drew Black. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“Ha!” She stowed the small business card she was holding into her purse before turning to him. “I need to go now. There are plans to formulate.”

She was so serious, Brett had to fight a smile. “Yes, ma’am. Did you want me to walk you out?” Roger’s Rodeo was a nice enough bar, in a nice enough area. But a parking lot was no place for a lady alone.

“I don’t want to put you out.”

He looped his arm around her. “I was leaving anyway.”

She went along without further argument. “That’s very sweet of you, Brett. Thank you.”

At the exit, he asked, “Did you have a wrap of any kind?”

“Not tonight. The weather is just beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Not bad.” For late March, the temperatures had been mild even through the night. Even in this commercialized area, spring flowers bloomed everywhere, filling the air with sweetness.

They stepped outside to a full brilliant moon—and feminine chaos.

“Oh, my word.” Gillian got jostled by a gathering crowd of women.

Frowning, Brett took notice of one particular woman. Blonde hair bounced around a pretty face dominated by big brown eyes. She wore no makeup that Brett could see. All serious business, she was handing out stacks of flyers to the other women, who all talked at once.

“What do you suppose is going on?” Gillian asked.

“Don’t know.” He reached out and snagged a flyer for himself. No one paid any notice to him. He skimmed the words—WAVS: Women Against Violent Sports—and laughed. “Drew isn’t going to like this.”

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