You Don't Know Jack (32 page)

Though Stone was a no-show, sometime in the course of the night, Duke Maddox arrived. He grinned at me from across the room and I felt a heat curl through me that was usually reserved only for Stone. Perhaps it was time I accepted that Stone and I were really, truly over and that I needed to move on.

Result
: I accepted a date with Duke for dinner the following night.

Flash
: Me getting ready for my date with Duke.

As excited as my body was at the prospect of falling off the celibate wagon, I had news for it. Tonight was dinner with a friend. Nothing more. But even if I was so inclined — I don't do men on a first date. I have my principles.

I glanced at my half-heart tattoo. Too bad principles didn't ease loneliness. Or cure what ailed a recovering Man-o-holic. Only being
smart
would do that. If I ever dip my toe into the boiling waters of the romance relationship pool again, it won't be with just anyone. Certainly not with a guy who demanded more from me than I could give. Certainly not with Stone.

Probably not with any man whose last name was Maddox.

As I'd soaked in a scented tub, sipping a small glass of Chardonnay, I'd thought about the Maddox men. Stone hadn't even phoned me since the night I almost became Carter Hawks' victim. I didn't owe him anything in return. But somehow the thought of sleeping with his brother, no matter how sexy Duke was, or how tempted I might be, seemed scandalously naughty.

So, why had I accepted a date with him?

Maybe because, unlike his brother, he seemed to care that I was still among the living. I stared at the outfits on the bed. Should I choose the old maid, button-up dress or the funereal black pantsuit? Nothing sexy for tonight. I didn't want Duke getting the wrong idea.

Or mixed signals.

Since my chest wound still required a bandage and might cause unnatural lumps beneath the buttoned up number, I settled on the black pantsuit. I reached for my ebony thong.

The doorbell chimed. I checked the time. OMG. Duke was an hour early. I had done my makeup, but my hair was still wet, my body wrapped in a towel.

This was not a good start to the night.

Or to our new... whatever it was.

I trekked to the door. He could just go down and have a cup of coffee with Sharkey until I was ready. I peered through the peephole. A gorgeous, dark haired man stood outside.

It was not Duke.

It was Stone.

My heart picked up a couple of extra beats.

I left the chain on and cracked the door, peering at him.

He grinned. "Hi."

Oh, God, he looked and smelled as good as fresh baked brownies. "What do you want?"

"To come in." He wore his serious, sexy cop persona like an erotic musk.

"Why?"

"We need to talk."

Now he wanted to talk? "Uh, this is not a great time."

"I won't stay long..."

My palms dampened. Did he know about my date with Duke? Was that why he was here?

"Come on, Jack, don't make me say this in the hallway where your neighbors might hear."

I wasn't sure why, but the thought of that made me jumpy. I shut the door, undid the chain, and let him in. I leaned against the closed door, clutching my huge bath towel to me like a shield, the black thong dangling from one finger like a pirate's flag. I would have put on a robe, but I hadn't planned on admitting a visitor.

He was standing too close. His smoldering gaze raked up me. He snatched the thong and smiled. "Damn woman, you do know how to scramble a man's brains."

A frisson of desire spun through me, heating places I didn't want heated. I wished he'd just say whatever he'd come to say and leave. But apparently he needed encouragement.

I murmured, "What do we have to discuss?"

"I wanted to tell you that you did some good investigative work on this case."

Surprise caught my breath. Stone didn't hand out compliments unless he meant them. His praise pleased me. I'd been considering going after my PI license. "Thank you. I can see why you like being a cop. Investigating is as stimulating as... as—"

"Sex?" he suggested.

"Better than sex," I answered, blushing, my voice breathy.

He chuckled deep in his throat. "Oh, no, Jack, nothing is as good as sex... with you."

His look seemed to see through the towel. My mouth watered. "Well, I-I-I've sworn off men. And sex. And you."

He closed the tiny gap between us, planted his hands on either side of my head and leaned so close his breath danced across my face. "Hmm, that's a shame. Are you sure you meant sex with me?"

I couldn't think with him this close. With him nibbling kisses at my temple. Was I sure? Was I sure about what?

Before I could figure it out, his mouth claimed mine and all my resistance fled. Along with the towel. My body heated and boiled at his touches, his feral sighs. Ah, what the hell? I was a single, healthy, red-blooded woman with urges and needs and the resource to tap them at hand. I reached for the buttons of his jeans while inside my head something akin to New Years' Eve party makers tooted and whistled.

Result
: My Man-o-holics Anonymous membership was revoked.

Temporarily.

• CHAPTER ONE
  
• CHAPTER TWO
  
• CHAPTER THREE
  
• CHAPTER FOUR
  
• CHAPTER FIVE
  
• CHAPTER SIX
  
• CHAPTER SEVEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHT
  
• CHAPTER NINE
  
• CHAPTER TEN
  
• CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
• CHAPTER TWELVE
  
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
• CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  
• CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE