Girl's Guide to Hunting & Kissing. Joanne Rock

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СКАЧАТЬ tore his eyes from Summer and her undergarments with an effort. “I have to admit, I was pretty curious what a bordello looked like. Thanks for letting me in.”

      Cradling the phone in her palm, she tapped the antenna against her chin in a rhythmic motion. “I’m banking on your very public reputation that you’re a gentleman. Just in case, I told my girlfriend to make periodic drive-bys to make sure I’m safe in here. If she doesn’t hear from me at the designated time…”

      She shrugged, leading him to believe he’d be a dead man with the bodyguard.

      Still, he had to admit it was a clever plan. “Good thinking.” But he had no intention of cruising forward too fast and possibly overstepping his welcome. “Being in the public eye definitely gives me a high level of accountability for my actions.”

      And, lately, his father’s actions.

      She wandered closer, still toying with his phone. “So you need to color inside the lines in your type of work, Jackson?”

      His name on her lips slid over him like the silky blues music—sweet and seductive. “Can’t hurt to play it safe when you know your actions will only be dissected in the morning news.”

      Pausing a few feet in front of him, she extended her hand and the cell phone she carried. “And yet you followed me tonight.”

      Mesmerized by the way her mouth curled around her words as she spoke, Jackson almost missed their meaning. “What?”

      “You weren’t exactly coloring inside the lines when you followed me and Brianne to the bordello earlier.” Her gray eyes pinned him, measuring him.

      Suddenly his tie felt way too damn tight.

      “You knew?” So much for smooth-talking his way into meeting her. He obviously wasn’t nearly as slick as he’d thought.

      Waiting for her to boot him out into the hallway, he took the phone she still held out to him. His fingers brushed hers, sending a current of pure sensation through his hand.

      “I’m very intuitive.” She shrugged and the dangling crescent moons in her ears grazed her shoulders. “Highly developed sixth sense. Want me to guess what you’re thinking right now?”

      He was thinking how fast he’d blown his chance of ever being naked with this woman. “I’m rather hoping you won’t guess, actually. And I’m sorry about following you. It certainly hadn’t been my intent to make you uncomfortable.”

      “No?” She smiled as if thoroughly enjoying herself.

      Jackson was now totally out of his element. “I only hoped to meet you, but you left the lounge before I had the chance.”

      “So you put your phone on the housekeeping cart on purpose?” She studied him so hard Jackson wondered if she was attempting to read his thoughts again.

      Just in case, he concentrated on thinking about what a good guy he could be. Normally.

      “I wanted to find a way to meet you that wouldn’t make me look like Joe Stalker.” He backed up a step toward the door, knowing he sounded like a lunatic. Good thing he hadn’t told her he’d been lured to follow her by her lips. “I’ll understand if you want me to take off now.”

      Even though he’d hate it.

      He wanted this outrageous woman more than he wanted his next breath. And no matter what he told her, Jackson didn’t have any intention of backing off all together. She might look at him and draw conclusions about him from the suit, but she had no way of knowing the restless man inside it.

      The restless, determined-as-hell man inside it.

      He hadn’t won a reputation in the courtroom by trotting out generations of Taggart good breeding and polite manners. No, he’d earned a win-loss record any prizefighter would envy by single-minded pursuit of his goals.

      And somehow over the course of this evening, Summer Farnsworth had become a goal he damn well planned to attain.

      SUMMER HAD ALWAYS been able to size up people.

      As a child, she’d known when her parents had chosen a good cult to get involved with and when they’d landed in a militant crowd that would make all their lives a living hell.

      Right now, her sixth sense told her she could trust Jackson Taggart—even if he seemed to be thinking some deep thoughts right now as he stared back at her. He might have used underhanded means to meet her, but she had to give him points for originality. In fact, she was damned flattered he’d gone to so much trouble not to spook her.

      At six-foot-plus, he dwarfed her by a good five inches. His neatly buzzed sandy hair was bleached blond at the tips, attesting to a Floridian love of the sun. A strong jaw, cheekbones she would kill for and steely blue eyes made him a gorgeous man.

      It was the suit that had thrown her.

      Crisply pressed and perfectly pleated, his olive suit looked expensive, high-class, and just a little too starchy for her tastes. Not that she’d ever been quick to judge a book by its cover, but something about his slick exterior made her think he wouldn’t appreciate a woman who wore a bustier in public.

      Then again, he might not be the tattoo-bearing, earring-wearing superstud she’d been hoping to meet, but the beach-bum muscle-heads she used to date hadn’t exactly provided lasting fulfillment.

      Jackson Taggart was considered one of Miami Beach’s hottest bachelors, and he certainly filled out his suit in all the right places.

      Maybe she just needed to get to know him a little better before making any decisions. If he turned out to be a stuffy, no-fun politician type, she would be able to walk away from him easily. But after their intriguing meeting, she could at least find out more about him.

      “You don’t have to go.” She nodded toward the intimate sitting area on the other side of the room. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me about your political ambitions instead?”

      The smile he shot her sent a shimmer of tingly heat through her. The man would win any election with a grin like that.

      “You’re going to make me accountable for my actions now, too, aren’t you?” He extended his hand in the classic “after you” gesture.

      Had she ever dated a man who’d done the “after you” thing?

      She obliged him, making her way to the newly varnished settee so he could have the safer seating of a taupey-gold colored wingback. Only, Jackson didn’t take a seat. He prowled about the bordello, about her, at a leisurely pace.

      Summer watched him for a moment as he lightly fingered the shirred-velvet walls, exploring their lush softness.

      Clearing her throat to cover the sudden catch in her breath, Summer chose to ignore his wandering fingers and answer his question.

      “I just figured since you tricked me into this meeting, the least you can do is let me in on the truth behind all the Miami Beach gossip. Is it true you’re going to make a late election bid for state legislator?”

      “You follow politics?” He glanced her way as he moved on toward the cherry СКАЧАТЬ