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He drove into the yard. “Just curious.”
“Or suspicious,” she challenged.
“I guess I’m a little of both.”
“Oh, Colton, I thought this was over,” she said with a sigh. “I thought that since Black Magic was back, you’d be satisfied.”
“Relieved. Not satisfied.”
“Good night, Colton,” she whispered, refusing to get into another argument. She grabbed the door handle, but Colton reached out and trapped her next to him.
“Don’t go,” he whispered against her ear. “Not yet.”
“You could come inside.”
Colton chuckled. “Ivan wouldn’t like that much.”
“He’d get over it.” She smiled almost shyly and traced the hard line of his jaw wi
th one finger. “Despite what you may think, he’s not an ogre. He’s been very good to me.”
“And you’ve been good to him.”
Blushing a little, she said, “Except where you’re concerned.”
Colton’s teeth gleamed in the dark interior. “I haven’t completely corrupted you yet,” he murmured, his lips moving gently over her hair, causing goose bumps to rise on her skin. “But just give me time.”
“I can’t wait,” she teased back, then caught her breath as he lowered his mouth over hers. Her heart began to beat wildly.
“Oh, Cass,” he murmured thickly as he lifted his lips from hers. His eyes were glazed; his hands trembled as he touched her cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I was just wondering the same about you,” she admitted, her voice so husky she barely recognized it as her own.
“I’ll call,” he promised.
“And I’ll hold you to it.” She kissed him on the cheek, then scrambled out of his rig, waving as he shoved the Jeep into gear and took off in a spray of gravel. She stood in the yard, oblivious to the quiet, moonless night, as his taillights disappeared in the distance.
Lighthearted, she gathered her skirt in her fists and ran quickly along the path to the back porch.
She was still smiling to herself when she let herself into the house and found her father in the living room, his reading glasses poised on the tip of his nose as he worked on another crossword puzzle. Only one lamp burned, and the television, turned down so low she could barely hear a sound, gave off a pale gray glow.
“Have a good time?” Ivan asked. His voice was flat. He didn’t bother looking up.
“The best!” She wasn’t going to let her father’s disapproval destroy her good mood. Not tonight.
Frowning, he slipped his glasses from his nose, then polished the lenses with the tail of his shirt. “I wish I knew what it was about Colton McLean that mixes you up.”
“I’m not mixed up,” she said, plopping down on a tired-looking ottoman and noticing the lines of strain that had deepened near the corners of her father’s eyes.
“So now Colton McLean is a god again?”
“Not a god.”
“Then a hero.”
“No—but not a villain, either. He’s just a man.”
He snorted, tossing his folded newspaper aside. “You’ve gone out with a lot of men,” he said quietly, “and not one of them has even made you smile.”
