Hour of the Lion, Cherise Sinclair [good story books to read TXT] 📗

Her breath caught as everything inside loosened.

He rested his palm on the doorframe over her head and leaned in. As he inhaled, his nostrils flared. 'Vixen,' he murmured, so close his breath warmed her cheek.

She should stop this... His lips were tantalizingly near. At the heat in his dark green eyes, she felt her skin flush. Sensitize. She was caught, every cell inside her longing for his touch. Her face turned up, and she brushed her lips against his.

He froze. The muscles in his jaw hardened into granite, and he took a step away. 'I‘m a fool…and I‘m sorry, Vicki.' He turned and walked out in the rain, muttering, 'Herne help me.'

Trying to tell herself she was relieved, Vic watched him cross the parking lot with his long-limbed, easy gait, and her lust felt as if it radiated outward in hot waves. How the hell did he make her feel like this? Like she‘d give anything to wrap a fist in his shirt and pull that lean body down on top of her. She could almost feel his weight on her, the way he‘d take her mouth, tease her into kissing him back, then—

Holy fuck-doodle. If she didn‘t get her act together, she‘d melt right here in the doorway.

She shook her head, sending water splatting against the floor. At least, she was warmer than when she‘d come in. A lot warmer.

And an idiot. Just because she felt as if he was a friend—a teammate. Like many of the soldiers she‘d fought with, he held the same dedication to duty. Add in that warped sense of humor and...that body? Hell, how could she resist?

With a curse, she slammed the door shut, pleased to see customers jump at the noise. As she made her way across the sparsely filled room, a table of uniformed forest service workers watched her. One younger guy muttered, 'Looks like Alec‘s caught himself a female.'

A gray-haired, darkly tanned man answered, 'She‘s easy prey.'

Prey? The asshole thought of her as prey? She slowed, considered knocking a chair-leg off the old goat‘s chair, let him land on his ass. But hell, they were just men—another term for clueless—and they hadn‘t been speaking to her.

She veered toward the hallway and caught another fragment: '…strangely appealing, anyway.' That was more like it. Why their voices were so loud, she didn‘t know. Come to think of it, the entire room seemed awfully loud, like a TV with the volume turned to high. Her hearing felt as sensitive as after a night downing shots of tequila. Only she hadn‘t been drinking.

'Hey, Vicki!' Jamie slammed the dishwasher closed and ran across the kitchen to bestow a hug.

Thank God her ribs had healed. 'Ah …' Dammit, she‘d know what to do with a teammate‘s one-armed embrace, but this was a girl. A baby. After a second, she lifted one hand and patted the kid awkwardly.

'Jeez, Vicki,' Jamie frowned up into Vic‘s face. 'When somebody hugs you, you hug them back.'

'Oh. Okay.' Wrapping her arms around the skinny shoulders, she could only marvel at a child so well loved, who would know that lack of a hug wasn‘t from dislike, but from inexperience. She blinked rapidly against the prickling in her eyes and held the girl a moment longer to be sure the tears didn‘t show.

When the kid released her and looked up with a smile, the brightness in her face dimmed.

Vic got another hug—a very gentle one.

'Jesus, all this mushy stuff,' Vic muttered. Pity. She‘d just been pitied by a fucking baby.

She stepped away and noticed her clothes had left the kid wet. 'I need to dry off before I flood the place.' Crap, that sounded like she was planning to cry. "I mean—'

But Jamie had trotted over to the shelves and snagged a towel.

'Thanks, kid.'

'We get to work together today.' Jamie perched on a stool by the sink and beamed. 'I‘m working ‘til six tonight, Daddy said, since you‘ll be here to make sure nobody...' She frowned.

'Um...nobody makes some advances.'

Didn‘t that just sound like Calum? 'Nobody makes an advance.'

'Yeah. That‘s it.'

After tossing the towel on the washing machine, Vic pulled her shirt away from her chest.

The dampness made it too tight...and too cold. Glancing down at her tits, she groaned. Alec had not only seen her nipples, but must have been able to count every crinkle around them. No way could she serve tables like this.

'Very attractive, however I‘m not running a brothel,' Calum said in a dry voice.

Vic jumped. Now she knew how her buddies had felt when she‘d snuck up on them. Then his words registered. He found her breasts attractive? Her cheeks heated, and she turned her face away. God, two men in one day had made her blush. Worse—were making her hornier than an off-duty soldier in Taiwan. What was the world coming to?

'My clothes are soaked. Do you have any suggestions?' she asked, trying for an even voice.

'I have a sweater in the office. Jamie, please go and take orders for drinks. Tell people I‘ll be out in a minute after I finish dressing our waitress.' His gray eyes glinted as his gaze ran over Vic‘s body, all too much like his brother‘s had.

And having Calum look at her breasts turned her on just as quickly.

Dammit, now she was wet inside as well as out. With a huff of exasperation and desire, she crossed her arms over her chest and surprised a rare grin out of Calum. The flash of white teeth in that tanned face sure didn‘t do her hormones any favors.

Jamie trotted out the door, already singing along with Waylon Jennings on the jukebox.

Calum didn‘t move. Although his grin had faded, the crease along one lean cheek remained, making her want to run her fingers over his face. Over everything. The bulge in his black jeans showed he was equally interested. Bad idea, Sergeant. She bit her lip. 'Sweater? Remember?'

'I do.