The Object of His Protection - Brenda Jackson [21]
“Frankly, I wouldn’t. But I certainly wouldn’t bite the hand that’s trying to help me every chance I got.”
She finger-combed a lock of hair behind her ear and exhaled, putting up a good fight between being defiant and being reasonable. “Look, my day hasn’t gone like I had hoped and I’m in a bad mood. Sorry if it seems that I’m taking it out on you, but being forced to leave my home wasn’t what I’d counted on when I woke up this morning.”
“And I understand and feel somewhat responsible for that. However, our situation is as it is, and to make the most of it I think we need to at least try to work together and not snap at each other at every opportune moment. Don’t you agree?”
Grudgingly, she said, “Yes.”
“Okay then, I believe this calls for a truce,” he said, offering his hand to her.
Charlene paused a moment before accepting his hand. The moment she touched it she knew why she had resisted doing so. Instead of shaking her hand and releasing it, he held on to it, closed his fingers around hers.
“I told you last night that you had pretty hands. What I didn’t get the chance to say is that there’s something about your hand that I find irresistible.”
He turned her hand over and then fingered the lines in the palm, studying them as he did so. She tried to ignore the sensations that raced through her with his touch and was tempted to pull her hand from his as she had done last night.
Moments later, he raised his head and met her gaze. “Do you know anything about Chinese palm reading?”
“No, do you?” She tried not to respond smartly, but it came out that way anyway.
But for once he didn’t seem to mind her tone and actually chuckled. “Yes. My mother is half Chinese and as a child I got a chance to visit her family in China for an entire summer. My great-grandmother explained that Chinese palm reading is an ancient art passed down from generation to generation. By reading the lines in a person’s hands a skilled palm reader can find out everything there is to know about that person.”
“So now you’re claiming to be a palm reader, Drey?”
“Somewhat.”
He sounded serious and she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but she decided to call his bluff. “Okay, what does mine say?”
He closed her hand before releasing it. “I’ll make a point to tell you one day.”
She lifted a brow, wondering if he’d seen something she should be concerned with, then decided he was probably pulling her leg. “Whatever,” she said, rubbing her hands together, trying to rid them of the feel of his touch that seemed to linger and wouldn’t go away. “I’m ready to leave if you are.”
“Okay.”
She then watched as he effortlessly lifted the luggage off the bed, and followed him from her bedroom. When they got to the living room he glanced over at her phone. “You might want to leave a message giving the impression you’ve left town for a while, just in case anyone is curious enough to check.”
Knowing he had a point, she quickly crossed the room and within minutes had done what he had suggested. When she returned to where he stood and glanced up at him, she noticed how his eyes had darkened and were filled with an intensity she had immediately associated with him. Desire. And she knew the cause of it. He had watched her walk across the room, checking out her rear end with every step she had taken.
She frowned. “You have a problem,” she said, knowing he was aware of what she was talking about.
A wry smile curved his lips. “Some men are leg men, others prefer breasts. Personally, I have a fetish for the hind part.” And without waiting for her to comment, he walked off.
Charlene watched him go, thinking since fanny-watching seemed to be fair play, she might as well check out his. Umm, not bad. In fact she thought he had a real nice-looking tush.
He stopped when he got to the door and looked over his shoulder at her and gave her a smile that only heightened his sexiness. “Like what you see?”
She could lie and say no, she didn’t like