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She jerked away from him, turned on him, her face flushed, eyes glittering. And those were tears.
She blinked them back furiously.
“I got the message, Mr. Cooper,” she snapped. “Don’t worry, I won’t come back into your bar again.”
“Whoa. Sair.” He moved in front of her, staring down at her. “What message did you get exactly?”
Sarah stared back at him, battling her tears. “That makes half a dozen times I’ve been in that damned bar.” She swung her arm to it. “The only bar in driving distance, mind you. Each time, I order whisky. Each time, I get some damned kid’s drink. The last time, I got a soda. Now I have to have your permission to drink whisky in there? When the hell did you decide to ostracize me from this town?”
He blinked down at her. “When did I decide to do what?”
Cooper decided he was in shock. He hadn’t wanted her ostracized, just protected. Nothing more.
“I walk into that bar and no one asks me to dance,” she informed him frostily. “If anyone seems to be coming close to me, your bouncers waylay them and suddenly no one is speaking. And now your bartender won’t serve me whisky?” She sniffed.
Ah hell. She couldn’t cry on him here. Not in the damned parking lot.
Cooper rubbed the back of his neck as he stared down at her furious little face. She had guts, he had to give her that.
“That’s not what it is,” he finally said, grimacing.
Her arms were crossed over her breasts, her hip cocked. Damn. He was going to end up fucking her on the hood of a car if she kept this up.
“Then what, Mr. Cooper, is your problem? I’m over twenty-one. I don’t believe I’m a total hag, but last I heard, even ugly women were allowed to drink whisky.”
“That’s not it.” He hardened his voice. Hell if he wanted to explain this here.
“I just wanted to dance,” she whispered, the moonlight striking her eyes, making them deeper, darker. Damn, he wanted to fuck her. “To have a drink. I just wanted to be a woman, Mr. Cooper. I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you.”
She jerked her keys from her jeans pocket and turned to stalk to her car as though it were over. Son of a bitch. He should let it go. He was fucking stupid. Insane.
He caught up to her, slamming his hands against the top of the car as she reached the door, pinning her in, watching her start, feeling her sharp intake of breath as he leaned in close to her.
“This isn’t a nice place,” he told her softly. “This is a bar. The men who come here only want a fuck, Sair. They’re not all nice, and they’re sure as hell not here to share a drink and a dance and go quietly home.”
He could smell the scent of her now. A little spicy, a little sweet. Whatever perfume she was wearing was going to kill him.
“My bouncers have orders. The men in that bar know me, they know what you don’t. I’m a mean fucker, baby. And when I put out the order that they use extreme caution around you, they know what the hell it means.”
“Why would you do that?” Breathless. A little excited, maybe. He didn’t feel any fear and that was too damn bad. She should fear him more than she did anyone in that bar.
He let himself lean closer, let his nose bury in the soft fragrant silk of her hair. “Because I want to fuck you, Miss Sair,” he growled. “I want to fuck you so deep and so hard that neither of us can move for hours later. And I can’t have you, baby, because you sure as hell deserve better. So I’ll be damned if I’m going to watch one of those sorry bastards in there taste what I know they’d never appreciate. Go home. Find a nice young man who wants forever and babies, and count yourself lucky that the devil was in a good mood tonight.”
A good mood? He was so damn hard, so horny, his cock was like titanium. He could drive spikes into railroad ties with it. And it was so pressed against Sarah’s lower back, the only thing separating it from her flesh was their clothes.
Clothes he wanted out of the way.
“Was he?” There was something in her voice that had the hairs standing on the back of his neck. “I don’t think it was his good mood.” She pulled open the door as he shifted back. “Trust me, Mr. Cooper. There’s no such thing where the devil is concerned.”
He watched her start the car and drive away. And he couldn’t forget the little bit lost, little bit lonely look on her quiet little face. As though she had faced demons, and realized they were stronger than she had ever imagined.
“Fuck!” He propped his hands on his hips, stared after the car, and knew. Hell, he could feel it in his gut. He knew Sarah was going to rock him clear to the soles of his feet.
Before she did, he needed answers. His Sair was too wary, too damned secretive. Striding back into the bar, he made a mental note to have Jake check into exactly who Sarah Fox was.
chapter 3
sarah had learned not to cry a long time ago. She had learned how little tears helped, and she had learned how miserable they made her feel and that no one else really gave a damn anyway.
