J.R. Ward the Black Dagger Brotherhood Novels 1-4 - J. R. Ward [211]
Where were her keys? Had she left her keys in the—
Yup, keys were in the door.
She shut herself out of the house, turned the lock, and pitched the metal tangle into her coat pocket.
While waiting, she thought of Hal.
Wear your hair down for me.
All right.
She freed the barrette and finger-combed the stuff as best she could. And then she fell still.
The night was so quiet, she thought. And this was why she loved living in farm country; she had no neighbors except for Bella.
Which reminded her: She’d meant to call and report in on the date, but hadn’t felt up to it. Tomorrow. She would talk to Bella tomorrow. And report on two dates.
A sedan turned onto the lane about a half mile away, accelerating in a low growl she heard clearly. If it hadn’t been for the two headlights, she’d have assumed a Harley was coming up her road.
As the deep-purple muscle car stopped in front of her, she thought it looked like a GTO of some sort. Glossy, noisy, flashy…it was totally fitting for a man who was into speed and comfortable with attention.
Hal got out from the driver’s side and walked around the hood. He was in a suit, a very sharp black suit with an open-collared black shirt underneath. His hair was brushed back from his face, falling in thick, gold chunks to the nape of his neck. He looked like a fantasy, sexy and powerful and mysterious.
Except his expression sure wasn’t daydream material. His eyes were narrow, his lips and jaw tight.
Still, he smiled a little as he came up to her. “You wore your hair down.”
“I said I would.”
He lifted his hand as if to touch her, but hesitated. “You ready to go?”
“Where are you taking us?”
“I made reservations at Excel.” He dropped his arm and looked away, becoming silent, unmoving.
Oh…hell.
“Hal, are you sure you want to do this? You’re clearly a little off tonight. Frankly, so am I.”
He stepped away and stared at the pavement, grinding his jaw.
“We could just do it some other time,” she said, figuring he was too much of a nice guy to leave without some kind of rain check. “It’s no big—”
He moved so fast she couldn’t track him. One moment he was a couple feet away from her; the next he was up against her body. He took her face in his hands and put his lips on hers. With their mouths locked, he looked her right in the eye.
There was no passion in him, just a grim intent that turned the gesture into some kind of vow.
When he let her go, she stumbled back. And fell right on her ass.
“Ah, damn, Mary, I’m sorry.” He knelt down. “Are you okay?”
She nodded even though she wasn’t. She felt gauche and ridiculous all sprawled out on the grass.
“You sure you’re all right?”
“Yes.” Ignoring the hand he offered, she got up and brushed bits of lawn off herself. Thank God her skirt was brown and the ground dry.
“Let’s just go to dinner, Mary. Come on.”
One big hand slid around to her nape, and he led her by the neck to the car, giving her no choice but to follow.
Although it wasn’t like the concept of fighting him occurred to her. She was overwhelmed by a whole lot of things, him most among them, and she was too tired to put up any resistance. Besides, something had passed between them in that instant their mouths had met. She had no idea what it was or what it meant, but a bond was there.
Hal opened the passenger door and helped her inside the car. When he slid into the driver’s seat, she looked around at the pristine interior to avoid getting caught up in his profile.
The GTO growled as he put it in first gear and they shot down her little road to the stop sign at Route 22. He looked both ways and then accelerated to the right, the sound of the engine rising and falling like breath as he shifted again and again until they were cruising.
“This is a spectacular car,” she said.
“Thanks. My brother did it over for me. Tohr loves cars.”
“How old is your