THEY SAT ON OPPOSITE SIDES of her tiny kitchen table. The meal was over. She’d made steaks, baked potatoes and a tossed salad. He’d helped, and it had seemed…intimate. They’d laughed and talked and cooked and eaten together, and now…well, now, she guessed, they were both waiting to see what was going to happen next.
Since he wasn’t making excuses and hurrying the hell out, she assumed he was open to…more. But if she was going to wait around for him to make the first move, she figured she might be waiting all night.
So she took her courage in an iron grip, and she got to her feet, held out a hand. “Come to the living room?”
He took her hand, let her tug him up from his chair. But when she started to pull, he stood still, held on, didn’t move. Puzzled, she turned and stared up at him.
His eyes were glued to hers. “I like your place,” he said.
“Me, too.”
He nodded. “I understand why you want to fight to get your neighborhood back. It’s your home. I can see it’s important to you.”
“It is. And so is standing up for myself.”
“Since when?” he asked softly. “According to everyone you work with, you’re the most mild-mannered thing around. What changed, Melinda? Will you tell me that?”
She held his gaze. Then she pressed a palm to his chest, closing her eyes. “My friend Rodney—I’ve told you about him—he put me under hypnosis to help me with my confidence and self-esteem. And I…I remembered some things about myself that…I can’t talk about. But suffice it to say, I’m not the doormat I’ve been pretending to be, and you don’t have to worry about me taking on more than I can handle. I can handle way more than you know. Way more. That’s all I can say.”
He frowned at her. “I wish you’d say more.”
“And I wish you would,” she told him. When he looked up again, frowning, she went on. “You’re sending me so many mixed signals, I hardly know what to do here,” she confessed. “What are you doing with me, Matthew? Are you really into me, or are you just—”
Before she could say more, he pulled her against him and kissed her as if he’d been holding himself back for days on end. She melted against him, let her mouth relax beneath his and kissed him right back.
Oh, it was so good. Her entire body went into a state of superheightened awareness. She felt everything, every brush of his clothing against hers, the heat of his skin beneath it, his breath on her lips, his hands on her back and in her hair.
The next thing she knew, he was turning with her in his arms. They were walking and kissing, nearly falling down and still walking. Clothes came loose as they moved, scuffing their feet over dropped shirt, blouse, skirt and jeans, until they reached her bedroom. They fell onto the bed, limbs entangled, mouths melding, mating. Then their bodies were doing the same. He was sliding inside her. She was moving beneath him, holding him, eager and aroused and amazed that this much passion had been between them, bubbling just beneath the surface. She’d felt it, but she’d almost been too afraid to believe it was real, much less to believe that he’d been feeling it, too.
It was amazing. Hot, exhausting, passionate, exciting, sweaty, breathless sex. She’d never done anything like that before.
And after falling asleep in his arms, she wondered if she ever would again. Because when she opened her eyes a few hours later, it was to find herself alone. He’d slipped away while she slept.
And he hadn’t even left a note.
“THE HANDS-OFF ORDER remains in effect,” the new boss said to the members of his loosely organized gang.
“Aw, come on, man. That skinny bitch split my chin open,” Marvin Delaney, the fat-ass who called himself D-Man, whined. “I been waitin’ to make her hurt, man, and I’m sick of waitin’.”
The others muttered, swore, complained, but under their breaths.
“Look, we’ve got a good thing going. We stir things up with this woman, and it’s going to bring trouble to our enterprise. You do that, and Big Dog is going to be furious. You shouldn’t have messed with the neighbors in the first place. You broke the rules. You’re lucky you’re still employed. And if you want to keep it that way, you damned well better do your jobs, collect your cuts and keep your damn heads down. Got it?”
Reluctantly, the others, two men and two women, nodded. They dispersed, to go about their business, but they didn’t like it. And Matthew wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold them off. He had to try to control Melinda, and soon.
But right then, he had to leave. He had a busy night. As much as he would have loved to have fallen asleep in Melinda’s arms, in her bed, in her apartment, he had to keep her alive. And, if possible, keep her from screwing up the thing he had going. The thing that was going to make his career.
He had an appointment for a long talk with Melinda’s best friend, Rodney Foster. Maybe that fellow could shed some light on the radical changes in her behavior. Those changes were threatening what he had going, and could end up getting her killed, too.