Terry Spear: Dreaming of the Wolf

She shrugged. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Her eyes and lips hinted at a half smile that sparkled with feistiness.

“Try me.”

“I’m a bounty hunter.”

His mouth dropped open before he could hide his surprise better.

Her smile broadened. “Told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”

She took a sip of tea from a dainty teacup covered in tiny pink roses, and the way her lips touched the rim made him wish she was touching her mouth against his with the same pressure and with parted lips, drinking him in.

His eyes strayed to the slight bulge under her jacket where he assumed her gun was. “Bounty hunter.” He sounded a little incredulous.

Here he’d thought she was an undercover cop and most likely better trained for the job. The thought crossed his mind that the waitress was mistaken or had lied about this woman’s mother dating someone in the Mob. If the waitress’s explanation held any truth, he wondered if the woman and her mother were involved with a rival family.

But a bounty hunter?

She’d get herself killed. He didn’t like the scenario in the least.

“Don’t tell me you’re after one of those men.”

“The one on the right. Mario Constantino.”

“A h. And you’re going to walk up to him, serve a warrant, and arrest him.” His gaze shifted from the well-

dressed thug to the delicate woman sitting beside him, her heady feminine fragrance—a mixture of woman and the hint of an exotic floral bouquet—stirring his interest.

But she wasn’t any competition for the bastard sitting at the table.

“Not yet. If he doesn’t show up for his court date by tomorrow morning, I’ll serve his warrant and re-arrest him. But there’s another one. Danny Massaro. He works for this guy. Danny is supposed to appear at court in Denver today, but according to my informant, he’s meeting with Mario sometime soon in Breckenridge—and he’s already missed his court appearance. Danny’s not the man dining with Mario this morning, though. I want Danny, too. And I will get them. Both.”

Jake released an exasperated sigh. He imagined that issuing a warrant for one of them would be more than reckless. But trying to arrest the two of them?

“You’re kidding, right?” She might be armed, but she was no match for a bunch of guys with Italian names who had Mafia connections.

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me. Want another cup of coffee?”

“How did you know I was drinking coffee?” He waved to the waitress for a fresh cup.

“I saw you sitting in that booth over there, watching me, before you looked to see what the men who I’d been observing were doing. Until you saw the big ape who was trying to force me to go outside with him.” She paused for a heartbeat, judging Jake’s response.

His lips parted for a fraction of a second. He was damned surprised. He’d thought she hadn’t known he’d existed until he’d come to her aid.

She raised her brows just a hair, undoubtedly amused to see his reaction. She was good at this surreptitious stuff. Really good, he had to admit.

“But even before that, I observed you at the art gallery across the street, looking vexed because it was closed. I would guess you were on a schedule—self-imposed—and didn’t like the proverbial wrench in your plans. You were trying to figure out what to do with your spare time until the gallery opened, saw the restaurant, and came in here.”

“Saw you and came in here,” he corrected.

If she was so observant, and he suspected from her analysis of the situation that she was—which reminded him of a wolf—he wondered why she’d left out the most important part. And he wondered why she’d taken such a keen interest in him. Maybe for the same reason he was intrigued by her. Or she might have thought he was trouble like these guys were and had just been keeping an eye on him.

“You were taking a picture of the Mercedes’s license plate in a covert way. And that made me curious,” he said.

She smiled, and this time it was a beautiful, heartwarming smile—her expression all-knowing—like she’d had him pegged from the beginning and wasn’t clueless enough to believe his interest had everything to do with her taking a picture of a license plate instead of having more to do with the picture-taker herself. She might not be a wolf, but she sure seemed perceptive.

She lifted her cup of tea again. “This isn’t the kind of place you usually frequent, I imagine.”

He raised his brows, surprised again that she seemed so astute. He couldn’t help but admire that quality in her —particularly when she could read him so well and was even interested in doing so.

“You’re too…” she said, her gaze sweeping over him in an intimate way, and then she trailed her fingertips down his leather vest—and his body reacted, tightening with raw need. Her gaze slid lower to his stonewashed jeans, and then she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, “…rugged, in a casual, cool sort of way.” She brushed her fingers lightly over his cheek, tickling the short hairs of the couple of days’ beard growth, her eyes considering his face. “Yep, too rugged for the likes of this place.”

When she dropped her hand from his face, he asked, “So you knew I’d come in here looking for you?” His voice was a whole lot huskier than he’d intended. He wondered if after he’d kissed her and pretended a deeper friendship, she had played the role for Mario, the criminal she had under surveillance. In any event, Jake was game to deepen the role.

“Sure. That’s why when you first came in, you couldn’t find me. I ducked inside and found a spot to observe you, while looking for where Constantino had perched, and then when I thought you looked fairly harmless…”

He couldn’t believe it. She’d ditched him when she entered the restaurant so she could observe him, and he hadn’t even been privy to the fact? The woman was a marvel. And definitely a wolf at heart.

But then her comment sank in. “I looked fairly harmless?”

“Oh, all right—handsomely, devilishly dangerous but more in an innocuous way. More of a lady-killer type, if anything.”

“Innocuous?” He chuckled at that. He could be quite dangerous, and it didn’t take much of a push to shove him in that direction. But the other part? “Lady-killer?” He really didn’t see himself that way.

“The way the hostess and then the waitress were sizing you up…” She let the thought trail off and shrugged.

He wondered about the waitress. If she knew this woman so well, how well did his bounty hunter know her? He was more amused than anything, though, by her response that he was a lady-killer. He couldn’t believe that, as close as she’d come to real trouble, she could switch gears like this so completely. Nothing about her was timorous, and he liked that about her—to an extent.

He still thought she should be a lot less confrontational with the bad guys.

“Do you know the waitress? She seemed to know you,” he asked, hoping to get to the heart of the matter.

The woman gave a little laugh, but her response was slightly bitter in tone. “Oh, yeah, we go way back. Tami Lawson and I went to school together. I’m sure she had only good things to say about me.” With a refilled cup of tea, she said, “I’m Alicia Greiston, by the way. I’d offer my hand, but I’m afraid that would look kind of strange since we’re supposed to know each other already. Rather intimately, even.”

“I’d go for another kiss.” He was only half-joking.

Except this time, he wanted to kiss those cinnamon-and-

sugar-sweetened lips of hers.

She chuckled. “Yeah, like I said, a real lady-killer.”

Not in the least bit reluctant to feed into her fantasies of the kind of man he was, he reached over, took her hand, and brushed his lips against the back with a soft caress.