Page 50 of Back in Black

Drew tossed it onto a table. “Thanks.”

Hands on his hips, Officer Sparks turned to Gillian. “If you want to maintain anonymity, I’d suggest you finish dressing and get out of here. The press was showing up when I left. If the owner of the club, Mr. Sims, mentions any details . . . well, you could end up with reporters at the door instead of me.” And with that, he tipped his hat and left.

After he closed and relocked the door, Drew surveyed her and groaned. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Gillian stared at him in wonder. How could he remain so cavalier? “Most definitely. The sooner, the better.” Already on her way back to the bedroom, she shouted, “Get dressed and get me out of here, Drew. Hurry it up.”

CHAPTER 8

DESPITE understanding, Drew’s mood soured with each minute he got Gillian closer to her car and the official end of their . . . well, not exactly a first date. But a notable night all the same. “This was not how I’d wanted the evening to end.”

Face silhouetted by weak moonlight, Gillian kept her gaze out the window. “No?”

“Hell no. I had about a dozen more things I wanted to do.” He glanced at her. “To you.” His gaze dipped over the prim way she’d folded her hands in her lap, how she crossed her ankles, and the contradiction of that ladylike posture with the way she’d been in bed only stoked the fire. “To that smokin’ body of yours.”

“Drew, really.” But she smiled when she said it.

He saw the slight dimple appear in her cheek. Her mouth . . . damn, but her mouth made him nuts. He shifted uncomfortably. Right now her makeup was more off than on, her hair hung loose, and she’d left off the panty hose.

His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. Her passion matched his, and that was saying something. If this bullshit bomb stuff hadn’t happened, she’d have stayed the night, and his imagination went nuts conjuring up ideas of what they would have done, the many ways he would have taken her.

Few cars passed them on the road. The storm had blown past and now a sliver of moon struggled past remnants of dark clouds. Drew had the radio playing low, but he could still hear the hiss of tires on wet pavement. With every breeze, raindrops fell from trees and overhead lines.

Suddenly, she turned to face him. “I detest waiting around for a man to make a move.”

Taken aback, Drew asked, “Is there a move I missed? Because, hell, I’m willing.”

Exasperation changed her expression. “Will I see you again? Other than with business, I mean.”

“Well, hell, I hope so!” Was there a doubt on that one? Had she been sitting there stewing, wondering if this was a one-and-only kind of night?

“Given the circumstances—”

“That stupid bomb business?” Drew locked his teeth. If he ever found the guy responsible, he’d make him pay. “Forget about it, will you?”

“Forget a bomb? No, I don’t think so.” She pulled one knee up onto the seat. “But you’ll probably be under closer scrutiny now. There’ll be added risk of us getting caught.”

Yeah, because God forbid anyone should know how he makes her scream in the sack. Damn it. He’d had plenty of sexual relationships, but never one where the woman was ashamed of herself for sleeping with him.

“I haven’t even come close to getting my fill, Gillian, so don’t go there.” He turned down the street of the boys’ home and went on past it toward the empty gravel lot where Gillian had parked her car. “It’s not like we don’t have reason to be seen together, you know. You were hired to . . . what? Transform me?”

Her gaze shot to him. “If anyone asks, I’m a publicist, which is true. But also a handler and a—”

“Miracle worker, right?” It still burned his ass to think about it. “Isn’t that how you first put it?”

“Drew.” She reached across the console and put a hand to his thigh.

Dangerous move, lady.

“I said that before I really knew you.”

She thought she really knew him now? After one bout of sex? He flicked his gaze over her. “And now?”

She gave him that small smile again. “As a publicist, I think you have some rough edges that we could smooth down just alittlebit. As a woman, your sexist attitudes make me nuts.” She squeezed his thigh. “As someone who’s shared your bed . . . well, words desert me.”

Drew laughed. “Liar.”

“About what?”

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