Possession (Fallen Angels #5)(18)
Author: J.R. Ward

The other thing she noticed? His shoulders were tremendous, although that was likely some kind of coat or something against the cold.

Without warning, his head whipped around.

She could see nothing of his eyes, but oh, God … she felt them crossing the distance, doing away with the car doors, melting through the glass, tearing down any and every barrier between them.

Cait told herself to look away. Pointed out that the idea there was any kind of connection was ridiculous. Made a list of all the reasons that women who lived alone should never, ever encourage strange men—especially ones who were built like that.

Wait, she wasn’t encouraging anything—

Oh, really? Then why hadn’t she looked away, backed away, driven off? ’Cause those other cars had left and the lot was clear.

The man went for his door.

Before she knew what was happening, he got out of his truck and prowled around the front of it, his huge body moving like…

Maybe the word was … erotic.

Take out the “maybe.”

Cait did not look away. Couldn’t. In the sweeping headlights of one more car that had a more sensible driver than her, she got a clear shot at him—much taller than she’d thought, and the body was … even stronger than it had looked through the glass. And that heft? Not a jacket or a coat, nope. It was just muscles in a T-shirt.

As for the face? His was completely in shadow, the light shining from behind him.

So she couldn’t tell.

Her heart pounded as he came up to her car, except it was not from fear. Probably should have been. As things stood, it was more as if an electrical charge was coursing through her rib cage.

Her window went down. Sure as if something other than her mind controlled her arm, her hands, her fingertips.

It was as if she were possessed.

Looking up, her first thought was that she recognized him from somewhere. Maybe it was another case like Pablo and Victoria Beckham? Or, God, had he been on the front page of the newspaper for some horrible crime?

No … something else.

“Do I know you?” he asked in a low voice.

Before she could reply, a car horn went off and his head shot to the left—and that was how she saw his face properly. Holy Mary, mother of—

He was … breathtaking. Absolutely stunning.

He had the looks of a fighter, and not as in the puffy distortion of a boxer, but the shrewd, hawkish features of a man who might have been in the military. Eyes were blue, brows were dark as his hair, and that hard, heavy jaw was, yup, a very clear indicator that you tangled with him at your own risk.

On that note, when he turned back, she said, “No, you don’t—and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

Even though she couldn’t see, she felt his eyes narrow, as if he were testing the statement for truth.

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

“I have to go.” Except she didn’t have any impulse of the sort. She just kept staring up at him. To fill the silence, she blurted, “I really just came to hear the singer. With my friend.”

“And did you like him.”

Not a question. It was as if he already knew the answer.

“Yes. Very much.”

“You’re missing an earring.”

So he was staring at her as much as she thought.

“I lost it earlier tonight. At the hair salon.” Okay, maybe she’d better put the SUV in reverse before she told him her life’s story. “I went back, but … it wasn’t in lost and found or anything.”

Shut it, Cait.

“It was gone,” he filled in.

“Yes.”

“That happens.”

“Did you come here to listen to G.B., too?”

“No.”

She nodded. “I can imagine that’s not your kind of music.”

“Quick read on me, huh.”

“Yes. I have to go.”

“But you’re still here, aren’t you.”

“I don’t want to run over your feet.”

He shrugged. “Steel-toed boots. Wouldn’t feel a thing.”

FFS, that probably would have been true even if he’d been in flip-flops. Not that he’d wear that kind of thing.

“I could swear I know you,” she whispered.

“I don’t get that a lot.” He leaned in. “Tell me something.”

“What…”

“Do you like what you see?”

Cait’s mouth parted so she could breathe.

“Do you,” he repeated. When she didn’t reply, he said in that very, very deep voice, “Cat got your tongue?”

“Okay. Well … good-bye.”

He laughed, the sound a rumble through his chest. “You’re still not leaving.”

“I need to go.”

She put up her window more to cut herself off than anything else, and she was relieved that as she began to back out, he did step back. It didn’t stay that way. As she put things in drive, he came forward, her headlights making a stage for him, illuminating him as he stood with his legs locked, his head up, his hands on his hips.

A challenge directed to her, even though they were strangers.

And God help her, her body responded: Lust, unrestrained and unrepentant, went through her, waking her up in places that were not just dormant but previously nonexistent.

Run, some inner voice told her. Run fast and far—and pray that he doesn’t choose to follow you.

There was no saying “no” to a man like that. Not at all. Not even if he wasn’t good for you. Not even if your parents would insist you’d be a sinner.

Cait hit the gas so hard her tires scrubbed out, but he didn’t jump out of the way. He took a single step away so that she all but struck him.

Probably would have left a dent in her car before he got hurt.

Shooting through the narrow slot between the café and the art gallery, she had to slam on the brakes when she came out to the main road.

It wasn’t until she was on the highway, heading for her residential neighborhood, that her heart began to slow down.

Leaning into the front windshield, she looked up at the night sky. Naturally, she caught nothing of the stars, not even a faint glow. But sure as she knew where she lived, and how to drive her car, and what she was going to be doing in the morning, she was convinced someone up there was weaving out a destiny for her.

Too many strange things in one night—

When her phone went off, she let out a bark and grabbed for her heart. Had G.B. called her so fast?

Nope. According to her nav screen, Bluetooth had Teresa on the line.