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“Josnoah.” His mouth twisted. “Unusual.”
Bianca tossed her head. “An old family name. Now, if there is nothing else—”
“You don’t really remember his name.”
“Nonsense.”
“Because you’ve never met this guy before. He isn’t your date. He’s part of your study.”
“My…” She blinked. “What do you know of my study?”
“Only what you said at the restaurant. That you were studying online dating.”
“My sister said that, and why would you remember such a thing?”
Why, indeed? Why had he remembered everything about her, about that night? God knew he’d seen enough women since then to wipe out those memories.
Well, he’d seen them, yeah, but he hadn’t been with them. Not in bed. Not even in spirit or whatever you wanted to call it.
He’d spent his time thinking about this woman and that night.
And that was when he’d realized that there might have been consequences.
He’d thought of calling, but he couldn’t come up with an easy way of saying Hi, this is Chay Olivieri, and I just wanted to find out if maybe I knocked you up. Better to do that in person. And then, after he knew the answer, surely he could get the Tigress out of his head.
So far, he thought grimly, that part of his plan didn’t seem to be going too well.
“Just answer the question. Is this guy a subject in your study?”
“Lieutenant. Please let go of me.”
Chay focused on her face. Her wet, makeup-free, lovely face.
“Ask me nicely.” He caught hold of her chin. “Say, ‘Chay, please let go of me.’”
“That is precisely what…” She blushed. Jesus, he loved that blush, that rush of rosy pink into her cheeks. “This is not a game, Lieutenant.”
“No, it’s not. Just ask me nicely and I’ll let go.”
Her eyes gleamed. He wanted to laugh. Or maybe he wanted to kiss her. In truth, it wasn’t a tough decision to make and he lowered his head, brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. It was a light kiss, barely the whisper of his lips over hers, but it put a knot in his belly. And it did something to her, too. He saw it in her face, heard it on a swift little intake of air.
“Ask me,” he said softly.
She touched the tip of her tongue to the center of her bottom lip. He fought the urge to kiss her again.
“Chay,” she whispered.
“Good. Excellent.” The hell with fighting urges. He bent to her, kissed her again. This time, her lips parted on a sigh. “Is he a date? Or is he research?”
“I told you. It is none of your—”
One more kiss, a little longer, a little more intense than the last.
“Research,” she breathed, and he had to struggle against the desire to pump his fist in the air.
“I’ll wait for you, Tigress.”
“Who?”
