Revealed. Joanne Rock

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      GREG WATCHED JACKIE conduct her half of the phone conversation, admiring the way she could cradle the receiver, gesture wildly to express herself and still hold the tablecloth in a death grip.

      How could he not admire a woman who possessed the body of a goddess and the ability to multitask?

      He had to admit, Jackie Brady was very appealing, even if she spoke “disaster” with the fluency of a second language.

      But he was only going to try and convince her to let him drive her home.

      And maybe angle for a good-night kiss.

      He just wanted one taste of those cat-woman lips and then he’d be able to walk away. No doubt a woman like Jackie with her penchant for trouble could have a man chasing his own damn tail in no time.

      No way was Greg getting sucked into that again. He had recently dated a co-worker who thought Greg could help her advance from weather girl to head meteorologist. She’d ended up broadcasting a hurricane update with a picture of Greg’s face glued in the eye of the storm and had nearly cost him his job. Then there was the lady lawyer. A safe enough choice right? She’d chased ambulances right along with Greg’s camera crews, only too happy to have an “in” on late-breaking news.

      So, even though Jackie happened to have the most phenomenal breasts he’d ever seen, the most tantalizing voice he’d ever heard, he didn’t have any intentions of pursuing anything with her. He was swearing off women until he could get his professional life back in order. He could settle for a kiss though, couldn’t he?

      The door to the stairwell opened behind them just as Jackie hung up the phone. His brother stepped halfway into the alley, propping the heavy exit door with one shoulder.

      “The real stripper is here,” Mike announced, scarcely articulating the words around a pink rose clamped between his teeth. He shot a sheepish grin at Jackie. “No offense to you, of course, miss.”

      Jackie smiled right back at him, sparking a pang in Greg he could only guess was jealousy.

      “None taken.” She tweaked the stem of Mike’s flower. “I’m glad to see Rosie is back on track at the right assignment.”

      “And how.” Mike clutched his heart as if he’d fallen in love all over again. “Rosie’s a beauty, Greg. You coming upstairs?”

      “No thanks. I’m taking Jackie home.” Greg knew without a doubt any other woman would pale in comparison to Jackie, no matter how many more alphabets Rosie boasted for a cup size.

      Mike offered up a drunken salute while Jackie made a strangled sound and started backing away.

      Greg had to jog to catch her. “Wait up, Jackie—”

      She turned on him in a flurry of red hair and white linen. “Why? So you can take me home?” Her green eyes sparkled fire like some sort of 3D-animated video game warrior woman. “Don’t men even ask permission first? Or I suppose you just assume that because I flashed you a bit more than I’d intended that I must want company for the night.”

      “Hey wait a minute—”

      “No, you wait a minute.” She pointed at him with one unadorned finger, one unpainted fingernail. “I am definitely not interested, so you can take your suspenders and your muscles and all the charming chat and you can find someone else to bring home with you tonight.”

      Greg had to remind himself he was not a fan of histrionics or furious females. For a moment, he regretted the fact because Jackie Brady definitely had a knack for the dramatic.

      Although her diatribe probably fell somewhat short of her desired impact given that she was still wearing the kitty whiskers. The fuzzy ears. The pink nose painted over her own.

      When she stomped off in her tennis shoes, however, Greg pulled himself together and chased after her.

      Careful to keep his distance, he ran alongside her, layering on the “charming chat.” He’d never had any woman refer to his blunt manner of speaking as anything remotely close to charming.

      “Jackie.” He waited until she shot him an evil glare. Was he so totally sick that the green daggers she shot his way turned him on? “I won’t apologize for being interested, because I am.”

      She harrumphed and tugged her tail closer, checking the street for a cab that probably wouldn’t appear at this hour.

      “But I only meant to say I wanted to escort you to your home, to make sure you got there okay.” He watched her as she thought over his words. He could practically see her recount their conversation mentally, her eyes darting across the landscape, unseeing, as she reviewed the exchange in her mind.

      She slowed to a stop. “You meant you wanted to take me home…to my home?”

      He halted in front of her, still careful not to crowd her. “Yes.”

      “So you didn’t mean to imply for a minute that you were spending the night with me?”

      Was it his imagination, or did she sound vaguely disappointed?

      “I just don’t like the idea of you wandering around the city in that torn getup all by yourself. You might attract the wrong kind of attention.”

      “Then I appreciate the offer.” A smile spread across her whole face.

      “My car is just up here on the left—”

      “I never accept rides with strangers though.” She rocked back and forth on the heels of her tennis shoes. “I don’t know you that well.”

      “But how can I see you home if you won’t let me drive you?” He looked up and down the street. “I haven’t seen a cab since we left the bar.”

      “You uptown boys.” Shaking her head in mock despair, she reached underneath the folds of her oversized toga and came up with two silver coins. Tokens in fact. “Welcome СКАЧАТЬ