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But he was curious.
“Never. I was called to the set under false pretenses because my contact sheet makes it very clear that I don’t do that kind of work. Someone’s idea of a joke maybe, but I was very uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have stayed at all except that I didn’t want to offend the director, who shoots a lot of high-paying commercial work.”
That made more sense with what he knew about Tabitha. He remembered the way she’d clutched her robe around her neck when he’d arrived on her shoot earlier. She was obviously confident about her body and took pride in her work, but there was a sweetness about her he couldn’t reconcile with openly sexual films. He didn’t know where things were headed between them, but he was surprised to realize he wanted to know a hell of a lot more about her.
“We need to talk.” Standing, he stalked across her small living room floor to stand eye-to-eye with her. “You want to keep Buster for me while I run downtown and I’ll come by for him later?”
“That would be nice.” She smiled and her eyes lit from within. If he stood there much longer, he’d catch fire, too.
And just like that, he wanted her all over again.
“Keep the dog. I’ll be back in an hour. Two at the most.” He couldn’t keep his hands off her, his fingers grazing her hips with a possessiveness no man should feel toward a woman he’d only just met. But that kiss had him revved and ready for so much more.
He kissed her hard, savoring the taste of her until he had to tear himself away.
Her hair clung to his shoulder as he pulled back and he remembered he had taken it down while they’d been making out earlier. The mass of unruly red waves tumbled around her shoulders, taking her from delicately pretty to outrageously sexy.
“Okay.” She nodded, smiled.
He kissed her again and forced himself to walk out. He hadn’t been this gone on a woman since he’d been hell-bent determined to convince Melinda Cartwright to marry him. A colossal mistake despite his success in that particular quest.
The memory told him to proceed with caution, reminding him it probably wasn’t wise of him to go back to Tabitha’s place in the middle of the night. Especially now that she knew a murder victim.
As a good cop, he should question her further about that and maintain a certain professional distance. When the gunshot at her apartment looked like a stray bullet in a drive-by or the by-product of some street-related crime, Warren had figured there would be no ethical conflict about seeing her on a personal level.
John de Milo’s murder might make that more complicated. But unwise or not, Warren was already counting the ways he could undress Tabitha Everhart.
SEX WITH WARREN.
Should she plead temporary insanity and renege on the whole deal?
Tabitha quit pacing her living room to weigh the thought. A good thing since all her nervous ambling was making Buster agitated. She’d taken him out for a walk an hour ago, but the dog was still as restless as her in Warren’s absence. But maybe she could relax now that she’d come up with a way to back out of her bargain with Warren when he returned.
She could certainly prove the insanity defense. All she had to do was produce a few tabloid clippings from the year of her divorce and Warren would understand that she was unstable when it came to men. All the papers said so. Her jealous rages were legendary. No matter that there was only one public spat between her and Manny. Manny had a publicist, while she did not, so his spin on things got printed. No man in his right man would want to tangle with a woman like the press had made her out to be.
She could send the most intriguing man she’d ever met on his way without even having to bare a fraction of her real self. How neat and convenient for her.
Except that—in reality—she didn’t want to send Warren anywhere. Was it so wrong to hook up with a man for dessert only? Other women did it. She just had a hard time picturing how she could manage it since she’d never approached men or sex that way before. Sex had never been her strong suit anyhow, with her tendency to hit her peak too soon. Or at least, it had disconcerted her early boyfriends and pissed off Manny.
That was her first fear. But even if she and Warren got around that without too much embarrassment or frustration, then she had another worry. What if she got attached to him in spite of her best intentions? She ran the risk of getting her heart pummeled in this relationship, that wasn’t a relationship anyhow.
Sinking down into the kitchen chair on the side of the small table she’d deemed her office space, Tabitha hoped if she sat still for two straight minutes maybe the dog would, too. Opening up her e-mail folder, she scratched the dog’s head and waited for her messages to load while she wondered if she’d ever be brave enough to get involved with a man again.
Of course she would. Just not now, when her divorce was barely a year old. She hadn’t simply weathered your average marital split. Hers had been a media explosion complete with passion, jealousy and betrayal. Was it any surprise she felt unsure of herself?
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