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“Y—y—yes.”
“Say yessir. I understand, sir.”
“Yessir. I understand, sir.”
“Good.” Chay straightened up. He looked around the little café. Nobody would meet his eyes. Hell, he thought, and he dug into his pocket, pulled out a couple of twenties, strolled to the counter, flashed what he hoped was a smile at the barista and started to tuck the bills into the tip jar.
The barista stopped him. “Keep it.”
Chay looked at the guy. He had the kind of perfect face women probably loved.
“You keep the money,” the barista repeated. “I’m just glad you showed up.”
“You were going to help her,” Chay said.
The barista nodded. “She’s really something.”
“Damn right she is. Thanks for being ready to step in. And just for the record…” He flashed a quick, hard smile. “You might want to remember that she’s all mine.”
Another nod from the barista. “Hey, man, anybody could see that.”
Chay leaned in, shook the guy’s hand. Then he tucked the twenties into the tip jar anyway.
Bianca was waiting for him at the door.
“Ready to leave, honey?” he said softly. And even though he knew he didn’t have to keep the deception going any longer, he lowered his head and brushed his lips lightly over hers.
She tasted delicious. She felt the same. Soft. Feminine.
Perfect.
But it wouldn’t last, he thought, as he led her out into the rain. She’d been scared in that coffee shop, but she’d regained her composure fast.
Chay suspected she’d give up being compliant just as fast.
And she did.
The light turned red as they reached the corner. They stopped on the curb, and she used that as her chance to ease out of his encircling arm.
“Thank you for your help, Lieutenant.”
The good news was that color had returned to her face.
The bad was that she sounded exactly as she had that night at the Landing Zone. And, really, were they back to her calling him lieutenant?
Okay. They’d play it her way for a while.
“You’re welcome.”
“But just so you understand… I didn’t need your help.”
He raised his eyebrows. A couple of seconds went by. Then she blushed.
“Very well. Having you appear was—it was—”
“Helpful?” he said, his tone polite.
Some of her rigidity faded. “Okay. You showed up at an opportune time, but I’m sure I could have handled things if I’d had another few minutes. That man is sick. I’m sure he needs—”
