Mr. November
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Lori Foster
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18,1K
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10
1
Josh
WITH GREAT INTEREST, Amanda Barker peeked into the locker room. She’d been at the fire station—hounding him—many times, but she’d never ventured into this private area.
There was a partitioned off shower area adjacent to the room, and steam from recent use still crept around the ceiling, leaving the air damp and thick. A few of the lockers stood open and empty. Discarded white towels littered the floor, the benches and an array of varnished wooden chairs. Amanda wrinkled her nose. The room smelled of men and smoke, soap and sweat.
Except for the smoke, it wasn’t an unpleasant odor.
On the far wall, opposite the door she’d entered, a framed copy of the Firefighter’s Prayer hung slightly askew, droplets of water beading on the glass cover. Next to that, a plaque reading Always Loved, Never Forgotten, listed local firefighters who had died in community service.
Amanda drew a shaky breath and crept inside. The prayer drew her and she found herself standing in front of it, reading words she already knew by heart.
Enable me to be alert, and hear the weakest shout, and quickly and efficiently to put the fire out. She touched the glass covering those incredible words, wiping away the moisture. She dropped her hand and turned away, troubled as always whenever she remembered.
With self-taught discipline, she shook off the familiar feelings and surveyed her surroundings.
The locker room and connecting showers appeared empty, but she knew he was in there. The watchman had told her so—had even given her permission to go in, smiling all the while, ready to conspire with her to get their most infamous lieutenant to finally cooperate.
Behind her in the main rooms, she heard firefighters talking, laughing as the new shift arrived and the others headed home. They were a flirtatious lot, sometimes crude, always macho and fun loving to counteract the heavy responsibilities of their jobs. They were also in prime condition, lean and hard, thanks to rigorous physical training.
They all looked good, and they all knew it. With only one exception, they were willing—even eager—to help her out with the charity calendar by posing for various months. The money they made selling the calendar would benefit the local burn institute.
Amanda hoped none of the men came in behind her; it was past time she and Josh Marshall got things settled. Since the start of the project he’d refused to take part and avoided her whenever she tried to convince him. He even failed to return her calls.
The man was bullheaded and selfish and she intended to tell him so, but she didn’t want an audience. Confrontations were not her thing. In fact, she avoided them whenever possible.
He wouldn’t let her avoid this one.
Much as she hated to admit it, she needed Josh Marshall. She needed him to understand the importance of what she hoped to do, and then she needed his agreement to take part in her newest charity effort. While it was true all the men looked good, Josh Marshall looked better than good. He looked great. Sexy. Hot. He’d make the perfect Mr. November and the perfect model for the cover. They’d use him in advertising in local papers, bookstores and on the Web.
One way or another, Amanda intended to get his agreement today.
A muted sound, like the padding of bare feet on wet concrete, reached her ears. She turned and there he stood, all six-feet-plus of him. Casual as you please, a man without a care, he leaned in the doorframe. His blond hair was wet, his muscles were wet and the skimpy towel barely hooked around his lean hips was wet.
Slow rivulets of water dripped over his chest and through his body hair, slinking down his ridged abdomen and into the towel. He had his arms and ankles crossed. The towel parted, and one bare hairy thigh was exposed all the way to the lighter skin of his hip, up to the insubstantial knot in the towel. It wouldn’t take much more than a very tiny tug to remove that towel.
She’d seen him in his lieutenant’s uniform, she’d seen him hot and sweaty fresh from a fire, and she’d seen him relaxed, sitting around the station, on duty but not occupied.
She’d never seen him mostly naked and it was definitely…an eye-opener.
Amanda stood a little straighter and met his gaze. She had to tip her head back because he stood so much taller than she did. At only five feet four inches, she was used to that and refused to let it bother her now, just because the man was mostly naked and trying to bother her. She said, “Lieutenant Marshall.”
His dark green eyes, so often remote in her presence, now looked her over, starting at her dress pumps and advancing to her soft pink suit and up to the small pearl studs in her ears. He gave a crooked smile and sauntered three steps to a locker. “Ms. Barker.” He opened the locker and pulled out a bottle of cologne, splashing a bit in his hands, then patting his face and throat.
His scent overrode that of the smoke, and Amanda breathed him in, all warm damp skin, clean soap and that dark, earthy scent he’d just added. She recognized it from previous contact, but now was different. Now his big body was mostly bare.
Her nostrils quivered and she took an involuntary step back, bumping into the wall.
Of course, he noticed; his smile told her so, the glitter in his dark green eyes told her so. She held her breath, waiting to see what he’d say, how he’d mock her, and instead he reached for a comb. He turned to face her fully while tidying his hair. “How’d you get in here, anyway?”
Never in her life had she watched a man groom himself. Josh Marshall…well, it was unexpected. The heavy muscles in his raised arms flexed and bulged as he dragged the black comb straight back through his wet hair. She could see his underarms and the soft, darker hair there. Her heart bumped into her ribs with startling force. Somehow, that part of Josh seemed more intimate than his exposed thighs and abdomen.
“Cat got your tongue?” He reached for a T-shirt, which he pulled on over his head with casual disregard for the hair he’d just combed. The front of the shirt read: Firefighters Find ’Em Hot—and Leave ’Em Wet.
Her pulse raced and she had to clear her throat before she could speak coherently. “The watchman let me in so we could talk.”
“You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?”
She ignored the sexist comment even as she acknowledged it for truth; she was persistent, and she was most certainly little. “You haven’t returned any of my calls.”
“No, I haven’t, have I?” His deep voice held only mild interest in her visit. “Ever wonder why?”
As he asked that, he lifted out a pair of black cotton boxers and she just barely had time to avert her face before he pulled the towel away.
Cheeks scalding, Amanda gave him her back. “You’re being stubborn.”
“Actually, I was trying to be direct. I don’t want to do the calendar, so there’s no point in wasting my time or yours.”
“But I need you.”
Amanda felt the pause, his utter stillness in response to her words, and wanted to bite off her own tongue. Instead, she asked impatiently, “Are you decent?”
He gave a short laugh. “Never.”
“I meant…” She wanted to groan, she wanted to ask him why he had to taunt her and be so impossible. But that wouldn’t win him over so she drew a breath and asked instead, “Have you got your pants on?”
“Yeah.”
She turned, and saw he’d only been half-truthful. He wore his boxers and the T-shirt, but that was all. Even sitting on the bench, his jeans next to him, he looked more manly than any man she knew. His large hands were braced on the bleached wood of the bench at either side of his hips, his powerful thighs casually sprawled, his gaze direct.
Amanda could see the bulge of his sex in his underwear and found herself staring. It was a contrast, the sight of that soft, cuddled weight when the rest of him was so hard and lean.
“Should I take them back off?”
She jerked her gaze to his face and asked stupidly, “What?”
“The underwear.” His voice was silky, the words and meaning hot. “I can skin them off if you wanna get a better look.”
She started to laugh to cover her embarrassment over being caught, except that he looked serious. Was he enough of a reprobate to do as he suggested? One look into those intense green eyes and she knew the answer was an unequivocal yes.
In fact, he looked…anxious to do so.
She’d allowed things to get way out of hand. “Lieutenant—”
“Why don’t you call me Josh? Being as you just stroked me with those pretty brown eyes, I feel we’re on more personal terms now.”
“No.” Amanda shook her head. “I apologize for the staring. It was dreadful of me, I admit it, and I promise you it won’t happen again. But I prefer to keep things professional.”
“Oh, but that won’t do.” Josh stood and that damn crooked smile warned her that she wouldn’t like what was about to come next.
She edged to the side, ready to escape him, and banged into an open locker. Her high heels threw her off balance and she nearly fell before catching herself. Josh didn’t give her time to be embarrassed over her lack of grace. He stalked her, his gaze locked onto hers as he closed in, refusing to let her look away.
He came right up to her and crowded her back until the only air she could breathe was heated and scented by his big body, until the only thing she could see was his broad hard chest in that dark T-shirt.
Flattening his hands on the locker at either side of her head, he caged her in. His thick wrists, incredibly hot, touched her temples.
“Lieutenant…” Amanda seldom panicked anymore; the feelings had been tempered by seven years of distance. But at the moment, panic seemed her wisest choice.
“Uh-uh,” he murmured, “none of that.” Very slowly, suggestively, he leaned down, making her think he might kiss her and bringing her very close to a scream.
She froze, her heartbeat skipping, her pulse racing. One second, two… The kiss never came and a riot of emotions bombarded her, none of them easily distinguishable except relief and a faint feeling of disappointment. He made a small sound of surprise, as if she’d somehow taken him off guard, and her damn knees went weak.
His nose touched her neck and he inhaled deeply.
Amanda quivered. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve decided how I’m going to handle you, Amanda.” His hot breath brushed her ear, sending gooseflesh up and down her spine. She was aware of the cool contrast of his damp hair grazing her cheek.
Handle her? She couldn’t move a single inch without touching him somewhere. She held very still. “What are you talking about?”
He tilted his head away to smile into her shocked face. Watching her with heavy eyes and a load of expectation, he said, “I want you in my bed.”
Her mouth fell open.
No, surely he hadn’t just said… But he had! He’d actually suggested… Amanda laughed. Such a ridiculous, ludicrous…
Shaking her head, she managed to say, “No, you really don’t.”
He looked a little confounded by her reaction. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes to study her. “Now there’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. You’ve been pursuing me—”
“For a charity event!”
“—for over a month now. I decided it was time I did the pursuing. And once I thought of it, I couldn’t think of anything else.” His gaze wandered over her face, and landed on her mouth. He leaned in again. “Damn, you smell good.”
Of all the bizarre things that could have happened, Amanda hadn’t expected this one. Josh Marshall coming on to her? A man who wouldn’t normally look at her without frowning, a man who only told her ‘no,’ when he bothered to tell her anything at all?
Her reserve melted away, replaced by the unshakable facade of apathy she’d built years ago. Josh Marshall didn’t matter to her, so he couldn’t hurt her. No one could.
Her heart now safely concealed, her mind clear, she put both hands on Josh’s chest to lever him back.
He allowed her the small distance.
Hoping she sounded reasonable, she said, “Lieutenant, you can trust me on this one, okay? You don’t want me. You’re not in the least interested in me.”
“I didn’t think so at first, either.” His hands covered hers, keeping them snug against his chest. Under the circumstances, she barely registered the firm muscles, the heat of his skin through the soft cotton and the relaxed thumping of his heart. “But as I said, I’ve changed my mind.”
Gently, because she hoped to nip his outlandish plan in the bud without causing any hard feelings between them, she said, “Then unchange it, Lieutenant. Really.”
He looked a little baffled by her response to his come-on. She nearly smirked. No doubt most women would have been simpering, eager to get to know him better, excited by the prospect of sharing his bed.
Amanda shuddered. She didn’t waste her time on impossible dreams, and she definitely didn’t waste it on men. Not in that way.
The reasons behind her behavior didn’t matter. What mattered was that Josh Marshall not pursue her. That scenario would only agitate them both.
He lifted a hand to her cheek and gently stroked with his fingertips. His gaze appeared troubled, concerned and sympathetic. In a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “What are you so afraid of?”
Amanda almost fell over. Her throat closed and her knees stiffened. No! He couldn’t possibly see her fear. She kept it well hidden and buried so deep, no one, not even her family, ever saw it. Men accused her of being frigid, gay, a total bitch…but none of them ever noticed the gnawing fear she lived with.
“Shh. It’s all right. I just didn’t know.” Josh continued to touch her, and then he stepped away. Not far, but at least she could breathe. He stared into her widened eyes and said with a mix of gentleness and determination, “Whatever it is, Amanda, we’ll go slow. I promise.”
“We won’t go at all!” Her heart thumped so hard it hurt and her stomach felt queasy. She pressed a fist to her belly and sought lost composure. “I’m not in the least interested, Josh… Lieutenant Marshall.”
He smiled. “Oh, you’re interested. I wager you’ve even considered things between us a time or two. Maybe a hot fantasy late at night?”
“You’d be pathetically wrong.” The bite in her words was unavoidable; she did not, ever, delude herself with fantasies.
Taken aback by her vehemence, Josh whistled low. “An abusive ex? Poor home life?”
“No and no.”
Rubbing his chin, he said, “You might as well tell me. I’ll get it out of you sooner or later.”
The man was impossible! “Why do you even want to?”
He shrugged. “It’s obvious there’s a problem, and we can’t get on to the lovemaking until it’s solved.”
Her mouth fell open again. “My God, your conceit is incredible.”
“Confidence, not conceit.” He lifted one massive shoulder. “I know women, inside and out. You’re hiding something, something that scares the hell out of you, and now I’m doubly intrigued. All in all, I’m beginning to think this is going to be fun. Not at all the chore I’d first envisioned.”
His every word, every action, threw her. She caught herself barking a very unladylike laugh. “A chore? A chore. You expect to ingratiate yourself with me using comments like that?”
He winked as he pulled on his jeans and sat on the bench again to don socks and lace up black boots. “I don’t want to win you over, sweetheart. I just want you in my bed.”
Tension prickled her nerve endings, started the low thrum of a headache. Amanda rubbed her temples, trying to think. “We’ve gotten off course here somehow.” She drew a steadying breath and dredged up a vague smile. “All I want is for you to agree to have your picture taken. An hour of your time…”
Josh stood and began threading a thick black leather belt through his belt loops. “Have dinner with me.”
An audible click sounded when her teeth snapped together. “No. Thank you.”
He buckled the belt and pulled out a black leather jacket, slinging it over his shoulder and hooking it with his thumb. He looked her over, the epitome of male arrogance and savage resolve. “I thought we’d discuss the calendar.”
Indecision warred with hope. Would he relent and allow her to get the photographs she needed? Was he just leading her on to get his way?
The biggest question was whether or not she could handle him—and she had serious doubts on that issue. In a thousand different ways, she knew Josh Marshall was unlike any other man she’d encountered. He was persuasive, a lady’s man in every sense of the word, walking testosterone with an abundance of charm. To top it off, he had a killer body that got double takes from females of all ages.
They wouldn’t end up in bed, of course, so that wasn’t a real worry for Amanda. His confidence and past successes were irrelevant. The worry was how much hell he’d put her through before he accepted defeat. Somehow, she didn’t think he took defeat very well.
In her case, he’d have to learn.
But if he would agree to the calendar, did it really matter if she had to put up with his seduction tactics first? She would resist because she had to, and in the end, she’d get what she wanted.
With a sense of dread, in spite of the pep talk that she’d just given herself, Amanda nodded. “All right.”
Josh’s expression softened. “I promise it won’t be near the degradation you’re imagining.”
“Not at all.” She needed his agreement, and antagonizing him would gain her nothing but his continued refusal. “The dinner will be fine, I’m sure.”
Without her permission, he walked up to her and put his large muscled arm around her back. She felt the heat of his hand as it opened on her waist. Before she could react, he urged her forward.
“I have a few rules we can discuss on the way out.”
“Rules?” She felt vague and uncertain with him touching her so much.
“That’s right. And rule number one is that you have to call me Josh. No more ‘Lieutenant’ formality.”
She could live with that. “If you insist.”
“Rule two—no discussions of any actual fires. I like to leave my job behind when I’m off duty.”
“Agreed.” Amanda realized she’d answered a tad too quickly when Josh stopped and looked down at her. The last thing she wanted to discuss, now or ever, was a real fire. “I…I understand,” she stammered, trying to keep him from looking inside her again.
For a long moment, he just stood there, considering her, and then he nodded. “Let’s go.”
As they walked through the station, firemen looked up. A few laughed, a few called out suggestions and Josh, without slowing, made a crude gesture in their general direction and kept going. But when Amanda peeked up at his face, she saw his satisfied…maybe smug, smile.
Ha! Let him be smug, she didn’t care. All she cared about was her project.
And that meant she had to care about him. But just for a little while.
JOSH WATCHED Amanda as they stepped outside into the cool October night. He was just coming off a twelve-hour shift, and after two emergency calls that day, he should have been tired. He had been tired, clear down to the bone. He’d thought only of getting home and falling into bed. But now he was…expectant. And a little horny.
For Amanda Barker. He grinned.
There’d been a recent drizzle and the station’s lights, as well as a bright moon, glistened across the wet pavement. The cool air was brisk, stirred by an uneasy breeze.
It matched his mood.
With his hand on Amanda’s back, he could feel the nervousness she tried so hard to hide. It wasn’t a reaction he was used to from women. But then Amanda wasn’t what he was used to.
She also wasn’t what he wanted, not even close.
Not that it seemed to matter tonight.
Once he’d made up his mind to turn the tables on her, he’d found himself thinking about her a lot. About getting her out of her perfect little feminine suits and letting down her perfectly coiffed hair.
He wanted to see if Amanda Barker could stop being so sweet and refined and classy. He wanted to see her wild, unreserved.
He wanted to hear her screaming out a climax, to feel her perfectly painted pink nails digging into his back as she bucked beneath him.
Josh stopped and drew a deep breath. He put his hands on his hips and dropped his head forward with a laugh. Damn, he’d let his lust get out of hand.
He hadn’t expected her here tonight, had in fact been too wiped out from the emergency calls to do much thinking at all. Yet, she’d surprised him by hanging out in the locker room, waiting for him.
A pleasant surprise and a very nice distraction.
He’d made his decision a week ago and had been thinking about it ever since. At least a dozen different ways, he’d imagined their encounter, how he’d approach her and what he’d say, how she’d react to his come-on.
Not once had he imagined seeing fear on her face.
“Lieutenant Marshall?”
He whipped his head up and snared her gaze, making her brown eyes widen in startled reaction. “Josh, remember?”
“Sorry.” She licked her bottom lip, apparently undecided, then that iron determination of hers came to the fore and she stiffened like a sail caught in the wind. “Josh, is something wrong? Because I want you to know if you’ve changed your mind—about dinner I mean—that’s fine with me. We can just set up a time for the shoot and part ways here.”
She really, truly, wanted nothing to do with him.
Josh hated being forced to face his own ego, but…he was stunned. Oh, he’d known women who hadn’t wanted to be involved with him. He was twenty-seven years old and he’d had his fair share of rejections. Women who were already involved or those who didn’t like the risks associated with his work. Women who’d been looking for marriage and those who’d just gotten divorced and needed time to regroup.
Most recently, he’d been rebuffed by two incredible women who’d chosen his best friends instead. He smiled at that, thinking how happy Mick and Zack were.
Oh, Wynn and Delilah liked him, they even doted on him occasionally, but only as a friend.
Other than Amanda, he’d never suffered complete and total disinterest.
Why she was so disinterested was something he intended to find out.
“I haven’t changed my mind.” Josh saw her delicate jaw tighten and felt just perverse enough to add, “I was imagining how you might be in bed. If you’d be so prissy and ladylike then, or if you’d really let go. Maybe do a little screaming or something.”
A variety of expressions crossed her face in rapid succession—mortification, incredulity and finally, fury. She turned away from him, her arms crossed under her breasts.
The first words she spoke took him by surprise. “I’m not prissy.”
A slow grin started and spread until he almost laughed out loud. Had he managed to prick her vanity? “No?” He drawled the question, just to infuriate her more. “Seem prissy to me. I can’t know for sure, but I’m willing to bet even your toenails are painted, aren’t they?”
“So?”
He’d love to see her feet. They were small and narrow and forever arched in sexy high heels. She had great calves, but the skirts she wore were too long to see her thighs, more’s the pity.
“It’s cold.” She stared up at the glowing moon, rubbed her arms briskly and shivered. “Do you mean to stand here and insult me all night?”
Amanda had pulled on a soft, cream-colored cashmere coat with matching leather gloves. The outerwear was fashionable, but probably not very warm.
He could warm her, but she didn’t look receptive to that idea. “I didn’t consider it an insult. More like an observation.”
“Then I’d hate to hear your idea of an insult.”
Even miffed, she looked picture-perfect…and about as approachable as a china doll.
The woman stymied him. But then, he was up for a challenge.
Holding out his hand to her, Josh said, “My car’s this way.”
She slanted a suspicious, sideways glance at him. “Just tell me where we’re going and I’ll meet you there.”
Hell, no. Now that he had her, he wouldn’t take any chances on her changing her mind. For some reason, being with her tonight mattered more with each passing second. “Nope. We ride together.”
Her face fell. “But I have my car with me.” She gestured toward the street to a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle. Not the new spiffy version, but an older model.
Josh did a double take. That car most definitely did not fit her image of refined ladylike grace. The car looked…playful.
Amanda Barker was chock full of secrets. First, that disbelieving laugh when he’d propositioned her. Then her indignation at the suggestion she might be prissy, which was a bona fide fact as far as Josh was concerned. And now that fun car. He shook his head.
He could discuss the car with her later, Josh decided. “So? I’ll bring you back here for it after dinner.” She looked ready to refuse, and he added, “We can discuss the calendar along the way.”
That easily, she gave in. “Very well.” She stepped closer, but stayed just out of reach of his extended hand.
Challenged, Josh snagged her arm and held on to it. She didn’t pull away, but her nose did go into the air.
She had a beautiful profile, especially with her features softened by the shadows of the night and the opalescent sheen of the moon. Her neck was even graceful, and looked very kissable with tiny tendrils of tawny hair teasing her nape.
“Do you always wear your hair up?” He tried to imagine it loose, to guess how long or thick it might be.
In a voice snooty enough for a queen, she said, “My hair has nothing to do with dinner or the calendar.”
“It has to do with my fantasies though.” He tightened his hold when he felt her preparing to slip away. He lowered his voice and said, “I close my eyes at night and imagine your hair hanging free. Sometimes I can almost feel it on my stomach, or my thighs.”
She stopped so abruptly he nearly pulled her off her high heels. Gathering her poise and clutching her purse in front of her like a blockade, she said, “This is sexual harassment!”
Actually, it had turned into a wet dream a few nights ago, but Josh thought it might not be a good time to share that with her. “I see you’re out of practice.”
Indecision and frustration tightened her features. “What do you mean?”
Leaning close, Josh touched the end of her reddening nose and said, “Seduction, sweetheart. Not harassment.”
“I don’t want to be seduced!”
A couple of passersby stared, then laughed before hurrying away.
Josh took her arm and started her on her way again. “Take deep breaths, Amanda. It’ll be okay.”
One gloved hand covered her mouth. “Oh God, this is just awful.”
He didn’t want to say it, but he couldn’t let her start thinking of his pursuit as harassment. “You don’t have to be here, you know. You don’t work for me, I have no hold over you—”
“I need you for the calendar!”
“No,” he said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze, “you want me for the calendar.”
Miffed, she grouched, “I don’t know why. You’re absolutely—”
“Sticks and stones may break my bones…”
She looked like she wanted to scream again, but instead she stopped and straightened her shoulders, her spine. She pasted on a serene expression and even managed a smile.
Poor little thing, he thought. She worked so hard at maintaining all that elegant dignity when what she really wanted to do, what her nature demanded she do, was turn loose her temper and wallop him. He waited, anxious to hear what she’d say.
With shaking fingers she tidied her already tidy hair and smoothed her coat. “Where will we be eating?”
Josh waggled a finger at her. “That was way too restrained. I had myself all prepared and then, nothing but fizzle. I’d say I’m disappointed, but I think that’s what you’re after.” He leaned down to his car, unlocked and opened the door. “In you go.”
“This is yours?”
“Yep. Like it?”
She admired the shiny black Firebird convertible. “It’s very nice. Very…macho.” She settled herself inside, placing her feet just so, her hands in her lap. Amused, Josh reached around her to hook her seat belt.
“Oh!” She pressed herself back in the seat, avoiding any contact with him. “I can do that.”
“I’ve got it.” He liked buckling her in, taking care of her. He smoothed the belt into place, and in the process, skimmed her stomach with the backs of his fingers. Even through her clothes and a winter coat, the simple touch aroused him.
Pathetic.
He’d have laughed at himself, but he was too busy inhaling her perfume. He’d first caught the soft, seductive scent in the locker room, and it had been all he could do not to kiss her. With his nearness, her shiny pink-painted lips had trembled, enticing him.
But the panicked look in her deep brown eyes—a look she didn’t want him to see—had struck him deep.
Someone had hurt her, and he didn’t like it.
Josh walked around to the driver’s side, using the moment to come to grips with himself. Amanda wasn’t a woman he should involve himself with. She appealed to him sexually, but she wasn’t his normal type, wasn’t the type of woman he’d come to appreciate.
She wasn’t at all like Delilah or Wynonna. They were casual women, up front and honest and outspoken. He’d learned to appreciate those qualities.
Amanda, on the other hand, was so buttoned up she might as well have been wearing armor. And secrets! He was beginning to think everything about her was a mystery.
He’d meant to tease her, maybe teach her a lesson by turning the tables on her. He’d definitely meant to make love to her. Probably more than once.
But he hadn’t meant to start delving into her past, discovering her ghosts, involving himself in her life.
Yet, he knew it was too late. Like it or not, he was already involved. And it hadn’t taken any work on her part to get him there. No, she wanted nothing to do with him beyond using him for her damned calendar.
Josh intended to change all that.
But first there was something he had to know. As soon as he pulled into traffic, he girded himself, took a deep breath, and asked as casually as he could manage, “Are you afraid of me, Amanda?”
