Part 16 (1/2)

Skye straightened in her chair. ”Are you telling me that muse plus superstar author doesn't equal one happy pairing?”

”There's nothing between me and Ian,” Jane murmured, looking toward the cliff again. Teague White was braced against the rocks, and though in Griffin's mind's eye he was still the scrawny tagalong of childhood summers, he had to admit the guy had gained inches and pounds. He glanced back at the governess and saw her take off her hat.

The expression on her face was speculative. ”I might be due some satisfaction,” she said.

He frowned. She certainly was not! Hadn't he doled out some satisfaction to her just the other night? Sure, it had been quick and they'd both remained on their feet, but that wasn't his fault, was it? If she'd been a little more patient, he'd have taken her to his room- But he'd told her he didn't want her in his bed.

And he didn't.

”Could be I'd benefit from getting some kinks worked out of my system....”

Kinks! Tee-Wee White wasn't owed Librarian Jane's kinks. Griffin was the one who had to put up with her demands and with her maddening perfume and her crazy-making footwear. For G.o.d's sake, he should be the one who deserved any kinks that rose to the surface.

And what did anyone really know about Tee-Wee, anyway? He used an ax on the job, didn't he? He could be an ax murderer. Or just plain lousy in the sack. Griffin could practically guarantee that.

”If Skye's hesitating, I guess that means you can have him, Jane.” Tess glanced over her shoulder at the window where Griffin lurked.

He jerked back. Had she known he was eavesdropping?

Jane gnawed at the bottom lip of her puffy mouth. ”It's not really my nature to be the aggressor in this sort of situation...”

Didn't Griffin know it? Be still, he'd said, and she'd done just that. He'd kissed her and she'd been made boneless. She shouldn't just go around asking men to melt her, because that's what she'd done under his hands and under his mouth-and she seemed to be aware of that. Blowing out a breath, he relaxed.

”...but I suppose nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

His spine snapped straight. What? Had she actually said that? The same woman who'd also once repeated ”Failure is not an option”?

n.o.body knew better than he how determined the woman could be.

And Tee-Wee White was an ax murderer.

Tess s.h.i.+fted Russ from her lap to her shoulder. The baby snuggled into his mom's body, as peaceful as Griffin suddenly wasn't. ”I know,” his sister said. ”You could ask Teague to Captain Crow's tomorrow night. On Sundays they have a special menu, live music, dancing. It's a lot of fun.”

A little burn kindled in Griffin's gut. He remembered Jane that second night she'd ventured into Party Central. There'd been music then too. Dancing. She'd been dressed in a bikini top and exposing an ungoverness-like amount of naked skin. What she'd run into hadn't been fun.

h.e.l.l, he thought, scowling. Something had to be done to occupy her Sunday night. Of course, he didn't want the responsibility to fall to him, but he was the one with the means and opportunity.

Three quick steps took him to his laptop and he xed out solitaire to peruse another program instead. He'd cursed the return of email to his life, but now he was happy to scroll down the list of correspondence he'd trashed after barely glancing at it.

There.

It took but a moment to compose a quick RSVP. Griffin Lowell plus guest.

The women were still in their seats when he strode onto the deck. His businesslike footsteps caused the wooden surface to vibrate, but not even his sister looked his way. The trio continued their avid perusal of the half-naked firefighters on another scramble over the rocks.

For a second he considered running over there and showing the rookies how it was really done, but he had another item on his agenda. He sailed a paper airplane toward the book doctor. The breeze caught it, and it nearly flew over her head. But at the last moment the wind died, and the folded sheet dropped, landing on the table right in front of her.

Jane glanced up.

So sweet and innocent she looked, with those wide-set eyes and that soft mouth. ”Do you need something?” she asked.

”Yeah.” He reminded himself that she was a favorite of his agent. He owed the man, which just made this rescue more imperative. Frank would never forgive him if he let Jane find trouble here at Crescent Cove. ”I require your a.s.sistance.”

”Now?” She made to rise.

He shook his head. ”Tomorrow night. We leave in the morning. Pack a bag. Put in a party dress.” It struck him as he said it how rarely he'd left the beach house. See what she was making him do! But still he was determined to take her away. Save her from herself.

She arched a brow. ”I told Tess I'd babysit.”

”Look at it that way, if you want,” he said with a shrug. ”In any case, I need a date.”

LONGNECK BEER in hand, Griffin leaned against the wall of the California Pioneer Heritage Museum near L.A.'s Griffith Park. ”How are you?” he murmured to a pa.s.sing guest when their gazes briefly caught.

”Great. You?” the other man answered, without pausing for Griffin's answer.

”Smug,” he murmured to the guy's retreating back. The evening was working out better than he'd planned. Not only had it given him a legitimate excuse to avoid writing, but it was restful to disappear in the crowd. His original motivation still stood, however. He'd accepted the invitation to the book launch party-another of Frank's clients was making a big splash with a literary mystery set during L.A.'s Spanish Era-in order to save Governess Jane from making a romantic misstep. She might say she was interested in ”satisfaction” and not a relations.h.i.+p, but that didn't add up to Griffin. With her prim appearance and rule-bound nature, he figured she was ripe for throwing her heart into the wrong ring.

Griffin had learned the lesson about honesty when it came to women, but there was no guarantee that Teague White was the kind of man who would be up-front with her. He might take what she offered without being straightforward about his own intentions. By insisting she leave the cove tonight, Griffin figured he'd prevented Jane from being hurt.

Though why he was going all hero about this, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe she was starting to feel like a little sister to him.

He ran his gaze around the room, trying to catch sight of her. They'd checked in to a nearby hotel earlier in the day, a few hours before leaving for the party. While he'd gone for a run, she'd borrowed his car to swing by her place for some clothing.

Her apartment was an hour from the party and she'd made noises about staying there overnight, but he wasn't having it. The suite he'd booked had two bedrooms, and that way there'd be no concerns about drinking and driving. Upon her return, they'd ordered room service for an early dinner and then she'd retired to her room to change.

She'd come out in a deep violet dress of some swishy fabric that fluttered and swirled a few inches above her knees. The neckline skimmed her throat, and she had a matching long-sleeved, waist-length jacket on top of it. Her shoes were Jane all the way, lavender-colored and ultrafeminine, the wide straps across the toes and the tops of her feet securing her onto a provocative tiptoe.

He should keep tabs on her for those chichi high heels alone, he thought, continuing to survey the room. As practical as Jane's nature might be, her choice of footwear meant the slightest stumble could take her down. It played out in his mind's eye, a small slip, a tumble to the ground, her skirt flying up to reveal a pair of panties. What would they be this time- Stop. He clamped down on the mental movie reel. She was a little sister to him.

Or something like that.

To his left, he caught a flash of color among a small knot of dark leather dress shoes and black stilettos. Pus.h.i.+ng off from the wall, he ambled toward the bright spot, then froze as her feet s.h.i.+fted, and he caught a glimpse of the backs of her shoes.

h.e.l.l. Before, he hadn't seen them from behind. Now that he could, he noticed that each heel bore a distinctive, one-and-a-half-inch bra.s.s zipper. You'd have to unzip her to get her out of them! His mind made an instant leap to nakedness. Jane's nakedness, of course. Before he could control the urge, his gaze traced from those fascinating shoe fastenings to the backs of Jane's bare calves. After her days at the beach, her legs had a tinge of creamy gold tan, a color repeated where the dress revealed a slice of skin right over her spine.

More nakedness.

She'd taken off the jacket. It dangled from her fingers, and its removal showed him another rear view that he'd missed when she'd been covered up. While the dress was beyond modest from the front, in the back it was open from neck to waist. The sleeveless top of the garment was held up by-what else?-a long-tailed bow, its ends trailing to tickle her delicate vertebrae.

He hoped he wasn't doing something stupid like drooling. As if she sensed his regard, Jane's head suddenly turned over her bare shoulder. Her silvery eyes picked up the deep hue of the dress, and his breath hitched. He dropped his gaze to the prissy, plump mouth that she'd glossed the color of a ripe plum, but that didn't help.

The whole package made him so hungry he could barely breathe.

Christ, he'd insisted on the party to save her, but who the h.e.l.l was going to resuscitate him?