The Angel Tasted Temptation (11 page)

"So, are we going back to your place now?" Meredith asked, moving her empty glass to the side.

Leaving more room for the wolf to come across the table and devour her in one easy bite.

"Don't you want to get to know me a little first?"

She shook her head. "Not particularly."

"Don't get me wrong, Meredith. What you're offering me is pretty much every man's dream ..."

"But..." she prompted when he didn't finish.

"But I can't quite figure out why you're doing it or why I'm even hesitating on taking you back to my bed and tearing off that little pink T-shirt right now." His voice dropped into a growl. "And everything else."

A flush of crimson showed in her cheeks. Miss Meredith Shordon wasn't as unflappable as she liked to think.

"You're not like any woman I've ever met," he said. "And I find that intriguing."

"What kind of women have you been meeting?"

"Not the memorable kind, that's for sure." He rubbed at his temples. Well, they'd been memorable, but not in a good way.

The waitress slid the bill onto the table. Meredith grabbed it before Travis could and slipped forty dollars inside the leather folio.

"Why are you paying?" he asked, covering her hand with his own.

"Because this isn't, technically, a date."

"It isn't? We're alone. Together. Talking about ourselves. Sounds like a date to me."

"Fine." She slid one of the twenties out and put it back in her purse. 'Then we can split the tab."

"Quite the modern woman, aren't you?"

"I'm trying." Meredith fingered the stem of her empty wineglass and looked at Travis. "Why aren't you dating memorable women?" she asked again.

Travis let out a sigh that seemed to weigh more than the cobblestones that paved the marketplace. "It's complicated."

She reminded herself that she didn't need to get to know this man. She didn't want to get close to him. But something about that sigh and the way he said the words touched a common thread inside her heart. "What do you mean?"

He rubbed his head again before speaking. "I know you think I'm some ... Well, I don't know what you think I am, but trust me, before a couple days ago, I wasn't that kind of man."

She circled the rim of the delicate goblet. "That makes two of us turning over a new leaf in our lives."

"Well, mine's more like raking out the dead debris and hoping like hell there's something better than a shriveled up pile of manure underneath it."

She laughed. "You couldn't be that bad."

"I'm not Exactly Clark Kent."

"Well, I'm no angel myself."

He shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. "I disagree. I look at you and I can practically see the halo glowing around your head."

She directed a finger at his chest. "That's because you haven't helped me shed it yet."

"And what if I said I thought it would be wrong to do that?"

"Wrong to go to bed with me?"

"Yeah."

There he went, throwing a huge cog into her plans again. Five minutes ago, he seemed ready to head off to the nearest flat surface and give her the tour of Boston no one talked about in the Dummies guide. But now, he had blocked those vibes, as if he'd thrown a switch to "off."

"I'm not underage or wanted by the FBI," she said. "I'm not a nun or a married woman. There's nothing wrong with sleeping with me."

"Oh, I think there'd be many things that would be right about us going to bed together," he said, his grin seductive and teasing all at once, the switch back at on, then just as quickly, flicking off, "but..."

"But I'm not your type?"

He let out half a chuckle. "You, Meredith, are as far from the kind of woman I usually date as lemons are from chocolate cake."

"I'm the lemon, I take it?"

"Oh no. You're the cake. And I'm not so sure I should be, ah, let's say ... licking the frosting."

She studied him for a long moment. Here was a man who made no bones about his own checkered past and yet, he wouldn't sleep with her because he was worried about
her
honor? There was more to Travis Campbell than she suspected even he knew. More depth. More morals.

More man.

And for a girl who vowed she wouldn't get involved with him, she was suddenly feeling very tender and very involved.

He rose, slipping a twenty over the bill to accompany hers. "Let me bring you home."

"So soon?"

"I'd better do it before I forget all those pretty little resolutions I just made."

She stood and crossed to him, standing within an inch of his chest. "And what if I tempt you to throw those resolutions into Boston Harbor? Like our own little personal tea party?"

"Don't," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "Remember, I'm a weak man."

"Oh, I don't think so, Travis," she said, walking a finger slowly up his chest and taking a small thrill from the rise she saw in his eyes. "I think you've got all the strength I need."

Then she turned on her heel and walked out of the restaurant, leaving a whole lot of farm girl behind.

Travis's Not-Much-of-a-Cook Shrimp and Bacon Bites

16 cleaned, cooked shrimp, medium size

1/3 cup chili sauce

8 slices bacon

Hey, I'm a bachelor who lives on Cheerios and Papa Gino's pizza. What'd you expect? Crème brulee? This is as fancy as I get without calling for delivery.

Still, it's a nice way to tempt a woman, especially one who has eyes the color of a stormy sky. Start by mixing the shrimp with the chili sauce. Cover and refrigerate for a few hours. Can't think of a way to fill those hours with the woman by your side? Then you must be married.

Cut the bacon strips into halves and cook them until they're limp, not crisp. The
bacon
is limp. Don't be getting any wrong ideas here. Wrap each shrimp in a bacon piece, then secure with a toothpick. Broil until the bacon is crisp and the woman you want to impress is dying for a bite.

Take turns feeding each other... but watch out for the toothpicks. If you get too distracted, you could end your evening in the emergency room.

Trust me, that's no way to get a second date.

Travis had never noticed how small the interior of his convertible was—until Meredith Shordon sat in the passenger's seat. It felt as if the walls of the car were closing in, bringing them nearer together, edging her fragrance, her skin, her very presence closer to him.

Tempting him.

The word "virgin" danced around his head with images of sexual positions heretofore untried by most of mankind. Damn his hormones. Damn the testosterone that coursed through his body, hot as lava, inflamed by Meredith's innocence and gimme-gimme-gimme mouth.

He shouldn't. He was sure he'd go to hell, or at least purgatory, for defiling someone so pretty and nice and well... Midwestern. She had none of those hard city edges about her, just a calm purity that seemed a lot like a daisy in a field of nettles.

"Do you remember how to get back to my cousin's house off of Mass. Ave.?" Meredith said, breaking the silence. Since they'd gotten into the car, he hadn't exchanged much more than small talk with her, because every time she opened her mouth, he started watching her lips move and watching her lips move led to thoughts of other parts of her body moving...

That path to hell seemed awfully short right now.

"Yeah. I even know a shortcut." He banged a quick left and pushed on the gas. The rev of the six cylinders beneath the hood was a weak echo of the horsepower itching to be let out beneath his own hood.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

What had been his plan again? It went beyond sex, that he knew. But damned if his brain would picture anything other than a firm mattress and clean sheets.

Oh yeah. Work. The job he hated but needed because the phone company—and Kenny's ex—liked to be paid on time. He needed Meredith's input on No-Moo Milk and then he'd be able to save Kenny's butt and his own at Belly-Licious Beverages, maybe even with the added bonus of displacing Larry Herman from his blood-borne pedestal.

"You're awfully quiet," she said. "Is it something I did?"

"No." He paused. "Yes."

"I'm sorry. I'm just not used to being in a city and sometimes I—"

"There, like that," he said, waving at her. "You're apologizing, for God's sake. No one around here apologizes."

"They don't?"

"Hell no. They cut you off in traffic, then flip you the bird like it was your fault for being on the road in the first place. They sell you shoddy merchandise and give you crap about returning it because then maybe you'll back down and they won't have to eat the loss. They connive to get your promotion then screw you on your review so you'll be stuck in the mail room until you're sixty-five."

"That's what it's like here?"

He let out a gust. Now he'd done it—taken out years of annoyances and irritations on her for no reason other than the fact that she was here and he was caught up in some stupid denial plan. "Not really. I'm just... frustrated right now."

"Oh." She paused a second, then noticed the death grip he had on the steering wheel and the rigid set of his chest. "
Oh
."

"Yeah. It's
that
kind of 'Oh.'"

"We could—"

"No, we could not. Not now. And I'd appreciate it if you would never mention the word sex again because my hold on my hormones is ... Well, let's just say you don't make it easy for a guy." The numerous lights on Massachusetts Avenue slowed his progress and kept them together in the car.

Kept her closer. Kept reminding him that all he had to do was take a left or a right and he could avoid taking her home altogether and instead take Meredith off to the closest hotel.

Travis tightened his grip on the steering wheel and shut down his peripheral vision. Hell, if a good workhorse could do that, so could he.

"But that's exactly what I'm trying to do," Meredith said. "Make it easy for you. No strings, no expectations."

"Well, that's not right." He didn't know where on planet Earth it wasn't, but it wasn't.

"Are you sure there's nothing wrong with you? I mean, I have read
The Sun Also Rises
. I know men can have issues with their ... manhood and not want to tell the truth."

Travis bit back a laugh. "Trust me, I have no issues with my manhood."

"Would you rather be plowing a different kind of field?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I was trying to be tactful and ask you if you ..." She arched a brow. "If you were more of a guy-guy than a girl-guy."

"A guy ..."It took a second before the synapses in his brain started firing and he made the connection. "Trust me. I'm a hundred percent American male. And I only put my tractor in female ... ah, fields."

She smiled, then reached across the car to lay her hand on top of his. Her touch ratcheted up his temperature what felt like ten degrees and sent the peripheral vision plan down the tubes. He'd have never made a good workhorse, that was for sure.

"Good," Meredith said, her voice as tempting as a warm blanket. "Then you can fulfill your end of the bargain, right?"

At that moment, he pulled up in front of her cousin's house. He stopped the car, parked it and turned off the engine.

She was his for the asking. Heck, he didn't have to ask—she was doing all the asking. And yet, some leftover morality, probably instilled in him by the nuns that had taught him how to read at Sacred Heart Elementary School, kept him from saying a word.

Meredith was too sweet, too vulnerable and too nice for the likes of him. The best thing he could do was convince her that her plan was crazy and that the smart plan for her was to get back on a plane, head back to farm country and settle down with a man who'd treat her right.

If she'd just cooperate, it would be a whole lot easier for him to do that.

"Well?" she prompted.

"You're asking too much of me, Meredith."

"I don't understand. Don't you like me?"

"I know I'm some kind of idiot for turning you down, but—"

And then, the need to kiss her—to do much more than that—reached its boiling point again and Travis opened the door, scrambling out of the car before he could break his own promise and his vow to keep Meredith from the depravity she was asking for. Both conveniently available in the car's backseat.

Meredith didn't let him escape. She got out and came around to his side of the car, her skirt swishing against her legs, the volume of that sound seeming a hundred decibels higher than the hum of traffic a block away.

"I am going to kiss you, Travis Campbell, and when I'm done, then you can tell me if you're still confused."

And then she did just that, leaning in and first brushing her lips against his, then pressing harder and firmer. He threw his objections out the window and came right back at her, his lips meeting hers and his tongue dipping in to taste the sweet inside of her mouth. She let out a little mew and melted into his arms.

Desire roared in his head and he forgot everything he'd intended earlier. Meredith fit perfectly against his body, her lithe curves pressing against the hard planes of him like they'd been carved from the same piece of wood.

His hands cupped her chin, thumbs tracing along her jaw, asking her to open wider, to allow him more of her. She obliged and then wrapped her arms around his back, drifting her hands down to trace along his waist, teasing along the line where his shirt disappeared inside his pants.

Travis nearly groaned. His hands dropped down her throat, along her shoulders, and then finally to the one place he'd seen all night and not touched— the soft twin peaks covered by the silky pink shirt. His thumbs rolled over the tips, noting the sensation of lace beneath the satin fabric, then returned to cup her perfect breasts in his palms. She mewed again and pressed her pelvis to his, stoking a fire that was already raging.

"Get your friggin' hands off her or we'll do it for you."

Travis jerked away from Meredith and wheeled around. Two men stood behind him, their faces set in angry masks that seemed to glow beneath the street lights. No, not men, mountains of male hormones with bulging Popeye arms beneath white tank tops and open, battered denim jackets. Their faces were shaded by John Deere ball caps, giving them a menacing look.