Page 3 of Hidden Resolution
Her only excuse was fatigue and how bootylicious Mason was. With his midnight-colored hair, dark slashing brows, and light-blue eyes, he’d scrambled her brains more thoroughly than a granny’s farm-fresh eggs in a cast-iron skillet.
Taking a sip of her wine, Shonda frantically sought another topic, but came up empty. Giving up all hope of a normal conversation, she reached for the Sky Mall magazine in the seat pocket and flipped through. Odds were he viewed her as a complete ditz.
Pretending interest wasn’t difficult. As a marketing director, she liked perusing fliers, magazines, and advertisements to discover new trends. And the doorknob security bar for only $24.99 was a steal.
She whipped out her phone and captured a snapshot of the ad. When she reached her destination, she intended to order one for her apartment.
“You live in a bad section of town?” asked Mason.
She looked his way to find his eyes closed and his head tilted back. How had he known what she was looking at? Easing up her hand, she waved it in front of his face, careful not to create a breeze. When he didn’t react, she shook her head.
“No,” she replied, returning to thumbing through the magazine. “But a girl can’t ever be too careful.”
“Think that’s going to stop someone who truly wants in?”
When she glanced back, he was watching her intently.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping or something?” She gave him a pointed stare.
The lines beside those incredible sky-blue eyes deepened with his amusement. “I’m just saying if you think that little piece of junk will keep anyone out…” He trailed off with a dismissive shrug.
The disparagement of her soon-to-be-added security measure was irritating. If the stick could buy time for the homeowner—or, in her case, apartment dweller—to call the police, then it did the job.
“My friend will help me test it when I get home.”
“Save your money. Get an alarm,” he advised, closing his eyes again as if his word was final.
“I have an alarm.” She didn’t, but he didn’t need to know. “I happen to think this is a brilliant product.”
He snorted.
“You know, I don’t believe anyone asked your opinion,” she said, annoyance causing her to scowl.
One eyelid lifted to study her and dropped shut again. When no comment was forthcoming, Shonda’s temper spiked.
Who did this arrogant jerk think he was?
“Asshole,” she muttered.
He came alert and glared at her. “What did you say?”
“I called you an asshole. A-S-S-H-O-L-E. Asshole,” she said as if speaking to the dullest tool in the shed.
If looks could kill, she’d be dead and buried at twice the required depth. But Shonda had taken crap from people all her life and, for whatever reason, decided it stopped there and then. Her bestie, Erica, would be proud.Empowerment in action.
Telling this overbearing, self-entitled, gorgeous—whoa!
Damn, her mind went sideways. It had to be all those manly man pheromones he was emitting.
She leaned in and inhaled.
Mason stared as if she’d spontaneously sprouted a second head. “Did you just sniff me?” he asked incredulously.
Shonda froze mid lean, eyes wide and shocked.
Ohdeargod!
Had she? She had! Her body had responded to his delicious scent, acting purely on animal instinct.
