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And he had some. Lamb chopsen brochette.
It was funny. Comical. But intensely sexual. A literal warning to any lamb to be wary of wolves with big smiles and knowing eyes. She didn’t know whether to drool or kick him.
But what really made her react with gut fury was the realization thatherlittle lamb—the one Mick had gotten during his junior year of college in honor of their first anniversary—was no longer alone. A miniature herd of the furry little beasts marched across his back, waiting for their turn to run willingly into the Big Bad Wolf’s waiting mouth.
And Caroline Lamb had led the way.
She simply couldn’t help herself. With a strangled cry of fury, she half stood and launched herself into the room.
“Do the women of the world a favor and shoot the bastard,” she snarled at Louise.
Then she promptly ruined her grand entrance by losing her battle with gravity and falling flat on her face.
MICK DIDN’T KNOW who the woman lying on the floor was, or why she’d stumbled in just in time to prevent him from trying to physically wrest the gun from Louise Flanagan.
He did know, however, that she looked damned sexy, face-down, with her short white skirt riding up high enough to show him the hem of her filmy white panties.
As for why she’d want to shoot him, well, there could be any number of reasons. The first one that came to mind was that hedidknow her. The legs certainly looked familiar. Then again, any gorgeous legs looked familiar to a leg man.
“Louise, I think you’ve done enough for this morning,” he said, reluctantly, but necessarily, focused on the woman with the gun, not the woman with the silky underwear. Because as much as he’d prefer not to be the only naked one in the room, he had the feeling the likelihood of the gungoingoff was better than the likelihood of the brunette’s pantiescomingoff.
“Your plan obviously isn’t going to work if your father shows up and sees another woman here. Knowing him, it’ll just reinforce his already bad opinion of me. He’ll think I was trying to draw you into something terribly…unsavory.”
Her face flushed and her mouth dropped into anOshape. “He wouldn’t think I’d do something like that!”
“He might. So maybe you should go now,” he told her. Despite everything, he felt touched that she cared enough to try to save his reputation. Even if she’d had to shoot him to do it. Somehow, that made about as much sense as anything else in Derryville.
“We’ll forget this ever happened. Go home.” Then he said, “Leave the gun.” The prankster and movie lover in him almost added “Take the cannoli,” but he doubted either of the women in the room would appreciate theGodfatherreference.
“I…I would never want my daddy to think such a thing,” Louise said, lost in thought, her voice sounding shocked. Her trembling hand dropped to her side, leaving the gun dangling there, pointing at the floor.
Speaking of dangling…“Can I please get dressed now?” he asked no one in particular.
The prone woman in the short white skirt, who’d been pounding her fist on the floor and muttering the word “no” over and over into the carpet, finally looked up at that one.
Looked up. Direct line of sight. Got an eyeful.
Then he recognized her face and the bottom dropped out of his gut. “Caroline.”
“Mick.”
Louise stared at them both. “You two know each other?”
Know each other. Knew each other. Oh, yeah. A lifetime ago.
“You need to go, Louise.” Mick’s voice was thick, his throat tight.
Caroline Lamb. Here. In his office. Jesus.
He yanked his khaki pants off the floor and pulled them up over his hips, more to stall for time and regain his suddenly questionable sanity than anything else. It wasn’t like he was covering up something Caroline hadn’t already seen a number of times. Up close. And personal.
He began to sweat. Caroline slowly rose to her feet, watching his every move. Louise didn’t budge an inch.
“I can’t believe you did it,” Caroline said, glaring toward his half-covered body.
“She was holding a gun on me,” he replied in self-defense.
“Not that,” she said with derision. Brushing past the wide-eyed Louise, she stalked to stand toe-to-toe with him. Mick felt her anger wash over him as tangibly as a blast of heat. Caroline had always blown over him like a blast of heat. Always. Whether she’d been in a rage, laughing, teasing him or kissing him like they needed each other’s breath to survive.
