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“I have no idea who that woman was.”
“I don’t care about your love life. I want to know why you showed up on my date.”
“I want to know why you have four profiles up at Milwaukeedates.com.”
For a second she was taken aback, but on the way to being ashamed, she stopped herself. She was not in the wrong in this situation. No way was she admitting something that private to Creepy Stalker Guy. “Because I chose to. What’s your excuse? ”
“I got matched up with you at Milwaukeedates, Candy.”
His voice was full of contempt, but also pain. “So did Troy.
So did quite a few other men. Marie has you working pretty hard.”
“Marie is a good friend and she’s helping me out. How she does that is none of your business.”
“I thought you were doing her a favor.” He threw her words back at her.
She strode toward him, hardly aware of anything but her desire to strangle him, thinking better of it at the last second, both because she didn’t want to spend her life in jail and because he was a lot stronger than she was, and because even now she didn’t trust herself to touch him. Instead she stopped an inch away and shot her next words right into his face. “You can think whatever the hell you want.”
He didn’t back off. If anything, he came closer, pitching his voice to a low taunt. “You need the money that badly?”
“What money?” Despite the fury in her brain, she registered his stubbled jaw, his smooth, firm lips and how close they all were.
Oh, God. She was getting turned on. By her rage, by this man, by his nearness and his power.
This was entirely too twisted.
“There has to be money in it for you.” His eyes flicked down to her mouth and back; his tone was slightly less harsh.
“Money in what?”
“Dating men for Marie.”
Outrage stole her breath. “You think I am dating men for money? Do you know what that’s called?”
“Yes.”
She couldn’t speak for nearly ten seconds, only managed a gasp. “How could you think—”
“I don’t. I can’t. No matter how much evidence…” He let his head drop back in exasperation. “You’re driving me completely insane, Candy.”
The way he spoke, in hoarse despair, the way he raised his head and looked directly at her when he said her name, the heat in his eyes, all made it hard to get back her breath. She needed to find her outrage again. He’d practically called her a whore, she should be—
His mouth found hers as if it was made for that purpose.
And even though she’d only kissed him a couple of times, even though this savage angry kissing was unlike anything they’d shared, the taste and feel of him was like coming home, and she couldn’t even imagine why they hadn’t been doing this nonstop since they met.
Except…
She broke the kiss, but didn’t step back—not that she could have with his arms holding her tightly. “Wait.”
He groaned his protest.
“Why are you kissing me?” She heard the awe in her voice and saw the confusion in his face.
“Because you’re the most beautiful, desirable, fun, funny, full-of-life woman I’ve ever met, and even though I hate what you’re doing I can’t get you out of my head.”
She frowned up at him. This made no sense. “But I’m wearing glasses again. And a turtleneck. And brown pants.”
“What
the—
Why are you so obsessed with what you’re wearing around me?”
Candy sighed. Abigail was right. It was time the two of them did more talking and less assuming. “For the past couple of weeks the only times you’ve seemed interested was when I was Sexy Glamour Girl.”
“Sexy who whah?”
“Sexy Glamour Girl. One of my profiles. You were hot for her, lukewarm for the others. No, tepid. No, icy.”
“Icy?” He slid his hands down to her hips, coming dangerously close to resting them on her rear end. “Candy, I have never felt anything for you but pure, sweet, gentlemanly animal lust.”
“What about when I was shoveling?”
“Oh, man, yeah.” His features softened into sexy amusement. “You were like a mummy all wrapped up. I wanted to play archeologist and excavate.”
