Midnight Bayou

we’d get to this after. Change of plans. I owe you a shirt and some underwear.”
    “I’ve got more.”
    He’d recovered just enough to prop on his elbows and look down at her. Her cheeks were flushed and glowing. Curls of damp hair clung to her temples, spilled over the rumpled spread.
    He wanted to lap her up like a cat with cream.
    “Pissing you off got me hot,” he told her.
    “Me too. Seems like. I wasn’t going to do this with you again.”
    “Weren’t you?”
    “No.” She laid a hand on his cheek, amazed by the wave of tenderness. “I’d made up my mind about it. Then you come into my place, all sexy and good-looking, scoop me up that way. You mess with my mind, cher. You just go and unmake it for me, time and again.”
    “You’re everything I want.”
    “And nothing that’s good for you. Go on.” She gave his shoulder a little push. “Get off me. Two of us are a sweaty mess.”
    “We’ll take a shower, then we’ll talk. Talk,” he repeated when she raised a brow. “Scout’s honor.” He held up two fingers.
    “I’ve got to get back to work.”
    “Angelina.”
    “All right.” She waved him away. It was, she knew, no use arguing with him. God knew why she found that mule-headed streak of his so appealing. “Go get yourself cleaned up. I’ll call down and make sure everything’s covered for the next little while.”
    S he stepped into the shower just as he got out. He imagined she’d timed it that way, to avoid the intimacy. Giving her room, he went to the kitchen, found the expected pitcher of tea, and poured two glasses.
    When she came in, wearing that same sexy skirt and a fresh shirt, he offered her a glass.
    She took it into the living room.
    In the last few days, she’d resigned herself to what needed to be. Throughout, part of her had indeed pined for him. And every time she’d caught herself glancing toward the bar door, looking for him, or waking up in the night reaching for him, she’d cursed herself for being a weak fool.
    Then she’d glanced at the door, and there he was. Her own soaring pleasure, depthless relief, had annoyed her even before he’d nipped at her pride by plucking her out of her own bar.
    “Declan,” she began. “I wasn’t fair to you the other day. I wasn’t in the mood to be fair.”
    “If you’re going to apologize for it, save it. I wanted to make you mad. I’d rather see you angry than sad. She makes you both.”
    “I suppose she does. Mostly I hate knowing she’s out there with Grandmama, knowing she’ll hurt her again. I can’t stop it, I can’t fix it. That troubles me. But you shouldn’t have been brought into it.”
    “You didn’t bring me into it. It happened.” He angled his head. “Correct me if I’m wrong. You’ve got the impression that since I come from where and who I come from, I’m not equipped to handle the darker, the more difficult, the stickier aspects of life. Your life, in particular.”
    “ Cher, I’m not saying you’re not tough. But thisparticular aspect of life, my life, is out of your scope. You wouldn’t understand someone like her.”
    “Since I’ve been so sheltered.” He nodded. “She came to see me today.”
    The healthy flush sex and heat had put in Lena’s cheeks drained. “What do you mean?”
    “Lilibeth paid me a call around noon. I debated whether to tell you about it or not, and decided that I’m not going to keep secrets from you, or tell lies. Not even to spare your feelings. She came by, invited herself in for a cold one. Then she tried to seduce me.”
    “I’m sorry.” Her lips felt stiff and ice cold as she formed the words. Her throat burned like fire. “It won’t happen again; I’ll see to it.”
    “Shut up. Do I look like I need your protection? And save your outrage until I’m done,” he told her. “When she reached for my zipper, I told her not to embarrass herself. Her next tack was to fling herself down on the kitchen table and cry.”
    He eased down on the arm of Lena’s sofa. The tone of conversation, he thought in some corner of his brain, didn’t lend itself to lounging among all those soft, colorful pillows. “She didn’t manage to work up many tears along with the noise, but I give her marks for effort. The story was how bad, mean people were after her. They’d hurt her, you, Miss Odette if she didn’t give them five thousand dollars. Where could she turn, what could she do?”
    Color rushed back into Lena’s face, rode high on her