Jinxed!

5

“IAN?” CHLOE WHISPERED IN the dark. She was still touching him, one hand on his face, the other linked to his by the handcuffs.

Handcuffs.

She was handcuffed to Ian McCall, which, she reminded herself, wasn’t the oddest thing that had happened.

Not when she thought about that kiss they’d just shared.

That explosive kiss. Explosive and wildly passionate and hotter than anything she’d experienced since…well, since him. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Who are you watching? What’s going on in here that requires an FBI agent?”

He pressed his forehead to hers and answered her question with one of his own. “Chloe, why were you in here tonight?”

“I heard a noise.”

“You have a key?”

“I do their books, and when they’re out of town, I keep an eye on things.”

“So you’re close friends with them?”

She went still from the very inside. Still and cold. “Why does this suddenly feel like an interrogation?”

He didn’t answer that, either, and she slid her hand down his taut arm to grab the flashlight, which she lifted to see his face.

He didn’t flinch but looked right at her from those once dreamy eyes, which now held more than a hint of the hunger she’d just experienced.

And something else, something that made alarms go off in her head, even more than the handcuffs.

Worry. “Ian. You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“Let’s just get out of here,” he said, turning away.

Oh, no. She wasn’t going anywhere without answers. So she pulled him back, unfortunately dropping the flashlight to do so.

It hit hard, and, given that the light flickered and went out, it also broke.

“Two for two,” he murmured.

His low, slightly gruff voice, disembodied in the dark, seemed to ruffle something within her.

Or maybe the kiss had done that.

Or just his close proximity. Who knew? All she knew was she couldn’t take a breath without him knowing, and vice versa. Granted they were handcuffed, but they could have made more room between them. Neither of them had. Even after all this time, even after their awkward meeting and more awkward second meeting up here, something still shimmered between them.

It was undeniable. It could have been the dark, or the past, or simply the fact that it’d been far too long since she’d been held or touched by a man.

No, that didn’t compute. It wasn’t being touched by a man that had taken over common sense.

It was being touched by him.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said again. “We’ll talk then.”

All right, she was game for that, and she rattled the handcuffs. “Key?”

He shifted his weight and she guessed he was searching his pockets, a suspicion confirmed when she heard him patting himself down with growing agitation. “Ian?”

“Yeah. Hold on.”

More rustling, accompanied by a roughly uttered, “Ah, hell.”

“What?”

“Just a second.”

Okay. But the longer she stood there listening to him fumble around in his pockets, the more she knew. “Let me guess.”

“Don’t.”

“You lost your keys.”

“I did not lose them.”

“Uh-huh.” She felt like laughing. How that was possible was beyond her. “Then, where are they?”

“Obviously, they’re in the last place I had them.”

“So you’re still absentminded,” she said, and let go of the laugh in her throat.

“Yeah. And you’re still a smart-ass.” He said this utterly without annoyance.

In fact, it sounded pretty darn affectionate.

A flash of lightning lit the room in a blue-white glow, followed by a heart-pounding boom of thunder. In that split second, her gaze locked with his.

Not all of that flash of electricity came from the storm-not even close. Nope, most of it came from the combustible, explosive, chemical-like attraction between the two of them, and quite frankly, after all this time, it shocked her. “Can you still do that layup?” she whispered.

“If I say yes, are you going to kiss me again?” He let out a rough breath. “No. Don’t answer that. Look, the handcuff key is a small one, all by itself. It must have dropped from my pocket in the shuffle. We need another flashlight.”

“I have a spare in my office.”

“Let’s go.”

She wanted to know why it was such a bad idea to kiss him. She wanted to know a whole helluva lot of things, like why he was really here and why every time she took a step forward, he took one back.

She moved toward the door, forgetting that one of the drawers was still open. She’d have fallen flat on her face if he hadn’t encircled her waist with an arm and hauled her back against him.

“Careful,” he said in her ear, his voice low and thrillingly gravelly.

She could have told him that the only thing in danger was her heart, but they shuffled their way out of the antiquities office together, which meant lots of banging into each other to keep their balance in the dark.

Chloe had never been so aware of a man in her life. “Here,” she said when they finally got down the hallway to her office. She opened the door. Candlelight still flickered on the walls, relieving the darkness they’d had in the hallway and the auction house.

She glanced at Ian standing at her side, letting her gaze drift over his wavy hair, his furrowed eyebrows indicating he was deep in thought as he took in her office.

He caught her staring. “What?” he asked.

“I just can’t believe that it’s you. You’ve changed, Ian.”

“Grown up, I hope.”

Yes, and developed a razor sharpness that suggested he was no longer all fun and games. His face was tanned, more rugged now than baby smooth, and carved in classic lines that were admittedly drool-worthy.

He’d definitely changed. Where he’d once been lanky and lean to the point of being too thin, he’d bulked up some, all corded muscle and sinew wrapped in an undeniable masculinity. There was something else, too, something about him that suggested a will to walk into danger, a readiness to face whatever came his way. She grabbed her spare flashlight out of a drawer, watching as he leaned over her desk and blew out her candles.

“Fire hazard,” he said, and when he’d blown out the last one, plunging them back into darkness, she gripped the flashlight but didn’t turn it on.

Truth was, she liked being in the dark with him. She didn’t know what that said about her, but ever since he’d appeared at the party outside, she’d felt more alive than she had in a long time.

“Let’s go get the key,” he said, taking the flashlight, heating her skin everywhere they touched. Oblivious to that fact, he led her back to the antiquities office.

Together, they hunkered down by the desk searching, and Chloe stared into his profile.

He hadn’t shaved today, and maybe not yesterday either, but the intriguing growth on his jaw made her fingers itch. He had laugh lines around his eyes and bracketing his mouth, a mouth she happened to know curved with slow, wicked intent, making his amusement contagious.

Also, he smelled…wonderful. Knee-weakeningly wonderful, which didn’t seem fair since she probably smelled of fear and stress-not wonderful at all.

His hair was still lush and unruly, and as thick as ever, and she couldn’t help it, she reached up and brushed a lock from his forehead.

Lifting his head, his gaze met hers, full of heat and a testosterone that oozed trouble. “Chloe.” His voice held warning and that sexy hunger as he looked into her eyes, his utterly unfathomable.

“What?” she whispered.

He just shook his head. “Nothing.”

But she knew it was something. She knew it with every bone in her body. “No key?”

“No. We’ll have to get one from my place.”

His place. That probably shouldn’t have given her a shiver of thrill. “Okay.”

They made their way out of the office and to the stairs, which they took in silence, close but not touching except for where they were linked by the cuffs. She had so many questions she didn’t know where to start, and she wished she knew him better, like she used to, so she could press him for answers.

“Where’s your car parked?” he asked.

And it hit her. They were going to go through the outdoor party to the lot, and all the way to his place-wherever that was-handcuffed. She knew this. She should have been upset by this. Furious.

Instead, a frisson of arousal went through her. “Back parking lot.”

They stepped out of the building into the courtyard, and it was as startling as if they’d walked onto another planet. In one blink they went from utter darkness, back into the festive lights, music and sounds of laughter and people conversing.

The rain had stopped. The temperature had dropped quite a bit, making her wish for her sweater, which she’d left upstairs.

Had it been only a few minutes ago that she’d been down here herself, standing on the dance floor, laughing over Madame Karma’s predictions?

True love is going to walk into your life.

She squirmed a little at that thought, and glanced at Ian over her shoulder.

He was holding her handcuffed hand in his so that they didn’t draw any attention to themselves.

Your karma has gone south for the winter.

So which was he, Madame Karma’s first prediction, or the second?

And why did she suddenly believe what the fortune-teller had said at all? “Are you sure your date-”

“Gone,” he said with certainty.

Who would ditch him? And why? She couldn’t imagine…But looking into his tense face, she knew she was missing more of his story, and that made her nervous. Still, she led him through the throng of people, past the dance floor where only a short time ago she’d stood next to him, thinking about gobbling him up from head to toe.

She was still thinking about it.

They left the courtyard out the back of the building, and into the parking lot.

At her car, he waited until she unlocked the door, then pulled it open for her. She stood in the V of the opened door, and he stood just behind her, his free hand on the roof of the car, the other linked to her, surrounding her. His body heat seeped into her, through her, and she closed her eyes to savor every second, because she knew that when she took him home and they were unlocked from each other, he was going to vanish again.

Maybe for good this time.

Unable to stand the thought, she turned to face him. Cupped his jaw.

“Chloe-”

In answer, she kissed him, kissed him until his hand left the top of the car and came down to her waist.

When she opened her eyes, his held surprise and that intoxicating heat that made her knees wobble. “I just wanted to do that one more time,” she whispered.

He stood there a moment, and then, when he opened his mouth to say something, it began to rain again. He nudged her aside so he could slide into the car, moving slowly across the passenger seat to allow her the time to keep up with him.

They drove in silence except for Ian’s giving her directions to his condo complex. When she’d parked and turned to him, he was already looking at her.

“Ready?” he asked.

Yes. Yes, she was. The real question was, what was she ready for?

The rain topped its earlier show, coming down in thick sheets. They ran up the path to Ian’s front door, where he quickly slapped his pockets for his keys while they got soaked. Finally, he dropped his head and swore.

“Let me guess,” she yelled over the sound of the rain hitting the roof. “You misplaced your house keys, too?”

He looked at her, the irony and a good amount of wry amusement in his eyes. She could do nothing but laugh.

He joined her, until the sky lit up with a strobing bolt of lightning, followed by a booming clap of thunder that made her squeak.

“The back!” He led, and by the time they ran around the building and through a gate, they were both a soggy mess. Chloe could barely see through her streaming hair. Shoving it back, she looked at Ian, who was also trying to see, and laughed.

His eyes laughed, too.

It was true. His eyes laughed, which brought another silly smile to her face, because suddenly she felt like a kid.

No, scratch that. Not a kid. A teenager.

A rather horny one.

“Sorry,” he said, reaching up into a potted plant, and then the next thing she knew she was standing in his kitchen. He had hardwood floors and pale green walls with gorgeous trim, and like a real guy, dishes piled in the sink, a fact that made her want to smile as she dripped all over his pretty floor.

Ian dripped, too. Water ran down his temples, in his face, making his dark eyelashes inky-black and spiky.

He was looking at her, slowly taking in her wet clothes, including her thin tank and gauzy skirt that had to be clinging to her like a second skin.

And his smile slowly faded.

So did hers.

His was replaced by a heat that singed her every erogenous zone, of which she apparently had a lot more than she remembered.

Lifting the hand that was connected to hers, he pulled, and she found herself in his arms, staring at his mouth as he slowly lowered it to hers.

“Stop me,” he whispered. “Stop me now, Chloe, because I can’t seem to do it.”

Instead she lifted her free hand to his chest, gliding it up around his neck, cupping his nape to tug his head down to hers.