Jezebel (10 page)

“
You’re
a real party girl aren’t you?” He brushed his hands over
her forearms and
Celeste
called on all her reserves and years of experience to keep from
wrapping her legs around his waist. “You’re all fun and
games.”

Not the least bit insulted,
but the consummate flirt Celeste touched her finger against the tip
of his nose. “There’s nothing wrong with having a good
time as long as no one gets hurt.”

His green eyes darkened to a
dark coffee color and his nostrils flared. Even though she wanted to
run for cover, Celeste held her ground.

“
Even at another’s
expense?” he asked.

Called on
the carpet more than once in her life, Celeste studied her polished
fingernails. “There wasn’t any harm done.”

“
No harm done?”
Fascinated, Celeste watched his Adam’s apple bob with each
syllable.

“
Nope,” Celeste
replied cheerfully. His dark mood seemed to lighten hers. Anger was
so much more manageable than kindness. With a coquettish tilt of her
head, she traced the edge of his jacket lapel with a finger. “Don’t
have a hissy, Daddy. All of this can be rectified quite easily.
After tonight we’ll simply steer clear of each other.”

Celeste ignored the pang of
regret her words caused. Somehow and in the most surprising way
possible, he’d crawled under her skin. He made it impossible
for her to think about anything except the two of them naked rolling
around in clean white sheets.

“
That’s
not going to work for me. I’m calling in the favor and aim to
collect
.”

“
You
won’t get any objections here,
”
Celeste gushed in relief. Then in a purely submissive move, she
placed her arms behind her back and leaned against the wall.

To her surprise, his gaze
narrowed and she faltered. Had they not been on the same page? And
he didn’t help matters by simply standing there with his trap
sealed shut. He was probably married, why hadn’t she thought of
that earlier?

Embarrassed
by her
faux
pas
,
Celeste felt her cheeks explode with heat. Thankfully, her dusky skin
hid her humiliation. In an effort to save face, she ripped open her
purse. “How about I even the score. Let me buy the next
round.”

“
I’m in
training,” Shane reminded.

“
You said that
earlier, and yet you also sucked down a stogie. I doubt one of those
can be good for an eight rounder.”

Shane’s eyebrow lifted
as if surprised by her answer. She might be a floozy from Brooklyn,
but as a performer on the road more than not, Celeste had seen more
of the world in the past three years than most people would in their
entire life.

“
It’s ten maybe
twelve rounds depending on the promoter,” he corrected.

Celeste blushed furiously.
Not only had she failed at seducing him, but her attempt at
impressing him fell pathetically short.

“
Not many dames know
the technicalities of boxing. I’m impressed.”

Even though she wouldn’t
have admitted it to anyone, even under the threat of death, his
compliment thrilled her from her natural roots to the tips of her
toes.

Suddenly bashful and
woefully out of her element, Celeste dipped her head. Not for long,
Shane thumbed her under the chin until she met his gaze.

Celeste sighed in
wonderment. His eyes were a perfect shade of pale green, ethereal
like a shot of Crème de Menthe mixed with heavy cream.

The lust
she’d felt earlier crept back in and wrapped her around its
naughty little finger. Wanting to suddenly connect, she reached out
and straightened his silk tie, tweaking the Windsor knot.

For the longest time neither
of them said a word. Wait staff climbed and descended the backstairs.
At the top of the landing, an argument erupted over an unpaid tab.
Yet none of it could pull her full attention from Shane Brennan.

Flummoxed
by the inexplicable chemistry zinging between them, Celeste focused
on something more mundane like the lines of his suit, the off-center
placement of his nose. But her eyes kept drifting back to his mouth.
The fink had the most kissable kisser this side of the Mississippi.

“
About
collecting that debt,” he said, crashing through her thoughts
before they became illicit. “I’m gonna take my pound in
flesh.”

His
matter-of-fact approach should’ve been a green light. Instead
it felt like a bucket of cold water thrown in her face. Did he think
of her that cheaply? She wasn’t a virgin, but she deserved to
be treated better than a rent girl.

“
And if I object?”
she said tightly.

“
Can’t.”
Not noticing
her sudden change in
demeanor
,
Shane
slid his
hand down the wall
,
setting her on edge from wondering where it would land. “You
forfeited that right when you pulled me into your con.”

Moths were drawn to flame,
and ended up with their wings singed, Celeste mused, feeling the burn
of his words and the consequences of her actions. “Name your
damage,” she conceded, no longer amorous, “but absolutely
no funny business.”

The corners of his eyes
crinkled as he smiled and her libido crackled with renewed momentum.
“Funny business?”

Celeste almost rolled her
eyes. He couldn’t be that green? “Like kissing me and
taking liberties.”

His voice
was dangerously soft, “There’s nothing funny about
kissing.”

Before Celeste could wrap
her head around how he’d suddenly turned the tables on her, his
fingers slipped through her hair, pulling her head back to meet the
assault of his mouth over hers.

Closed mouth and a simple
pressing together of lips, the kiss was much too innocent for
Celeste’s liking. She wanted Pre-Code film action--uncensored
and dirty.

Still she moaned loudly when
he stepped back, breaking the kiss. “See you didn’t
laugh.”

How could
she when he dissolved her brain into fizzy water? While she silently
questioned her sanity, Shane
pressed his suit
by
selecting
a day and time not too soon after her father’s funeral.

“
Where’re
you staying? I can pick you up.
”

Deflecting a potentially
disastrous situation, like inviting him up and allowing him certain
liberties, Celeste offered a neutral location. “We can meet
outside my father’s store. It’s 245—”

“
Flatbush,”
Shane finished for her. He looked somewhat uneasy as he stepped back
and leaned against the wall. His stance was casual, and yet Celeste
could sense something was off. Was he that beat up over her father’s
passing?

Before she could offer up an
alternative, Shane agreed, “I finish up around four o’clock
at the gym,” he said. “I’ll bring an extra set of
clothes and we can take in a movie. There’s a picture house a
couple of blocks from your father’s shop.”

A vision of him half-dressed
in snug boxing trunks, preferably black, flashed in her head. “Sounds
like we have a deal,” she said, while her mind remained
stubbornly stuck on him all sweaty and out of breath after sparing.

“
Well,
I…ah,” not really ready to part ways, Celeste struggled
with an exit line, “I better skedaddle.”

You
couldn’t come up with something wittier than skedaddle?
As she beat herself up,
Celeste
backed out of the alcove. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice she
was practically dragging her feet. Ironic, considering she was
well-known for executing seventy-five taps per minute.

“
Celeste.”

“
Yes,
Shane.” Celeste winced. She sounded woefully
breathless and eager. Not too
surprising
considering her pulse was racing like a jackrabbit’s. Lord have
mercy! If he pulled her into his arms again and kissed her silly,
she’d probably melt at his feet.

“
I need my coat
ticket.”

“
You’re
leaving?” She asked, feeling suddenly downcast. “I
thought you wanted to see Trudy perform.”

Celeste
almost rolled her eyes. She’d practically served up an excuse
for him to stay.

“
I’ll
stay
only
if you join me.”

Tempted, Celeste groaned. If
she spent any more time with him, she’ll find herself in more
trouble than she could handle. But when had she ever run from
trouble?

“
I would l—“

“
What was I thinking?”
Shane chuckled. “I almost talked myself out of our
arrangement.” Unaware that reneging on their arrangement was
the furthest thing from her mind, he stepped forward, slipped her
purse from her hand then proceeded to pilfer it.

“
See you Saturday.”
Once the coat-check ticket was in his possession, he waved it under
her nose, “don’t leave me hanging. You’ll regret
it.”

“
I won’t,”
Celeste muttered, feeling his absence already and not liking it.

CHAPTER seven

Shane
accepted
his belongings from the coat-room attendant and flipped a case
quarter in the tip jar. As he slipped his arms into his overcoat, his
movements were methodical, yet almost reluctant. He even dragged his
feet to the exit.

Swearing, Shane jammed his
fedora on his head. He was acting like a kid wet behind the ears,
practically shuffling his feet and acting as if he didn’t want
to leave.

He should be mad at her for
setting him up! Instead, all he could think about was her luscious
curves and soft lips.

It was only because she was
the Reverend’s daughter, Shane rationalized.

But the
more he analyzed his odd attraction to Newsome’s daughter, the
less it had to do with their father/son relationship and more to do
with the fact
that
the broad was the most vivacious creature he’d ever had the
pleasure of meeting.

Disconcerted, Shane bullied
his way through the front exit barely giving the doorman anytime to
open one of the padded double doors.

“
Need
a taxi?” Marvin asked, quickly shuffling out of Shane’s
way.

“
Point
me to the nearest subway station.” Shane flipped the collar of
his coat and breathed in deeply. Maybe if he walked part of the way,
the cold air would clear his head.

The doorman smiled broadly
and steam seeped from the corners of his lips.

“
You
gotta give me more direction than that. What’s your final
destination?”

“
Brooklyn
Navy Yards.”

“
That’ll
be the West 4
^th
Street station.” The doorman turned and pointed a gloved finger
east. “Walk to the end of the block and cross over Sixth
Avenue. Take the A train ‘cause the C won’t be running at
this hour.”

“
The A train,”
Shane confirmed albeit somewhat disappointed. He’d hoped for
more than a half-a-block jaunt to absolve his conscience.

“
The
quickest way to Harlem,” the doorman winked, “and unless
I call you a cab, the warmest ride to Brooklyn.”

In ill
humor, the other man’s glibness and sly use of Duke Ellington’s
lyrics only soured Shane’s mood. And before he had to suffer
any more small talk or clever innuendos, Shane touched the brim of
his fedora, threw the man a quick thank you then set off.

Hands buried deep in his
coat pockets, and his thoughts buried even deeper, Shane are up the
distance. As he stopped at the end of the block, preparing to cross,
he closed his eyes. He should have parted ways at the funeral home.
He should have kept Celeste Newsome at arm’s length, not beg
for another opportunity to see her again.

Pissed by
his lack in judgment, Shane squeezed his hands into fists. Why did
she have to act so hot and cold? One minute erecting a wall of
indifference, the next acting like an amoral creature to gain the
advantage.

What a
damn heel! He’d allowed himself to be drawn in some sappy
cuckold. All because he’d been unable to resist the strange,
inexplicable attraction that hit him like a ton of bricks. Made him
long to taste her lips. Feel her pressed to him.

Deep in
thought, Shane
didn’t
take much notice of the
black
on black Lincoln Zephyr convertible coupe
ambling
up Sixth Avenue. He also didn’t see the vehicle make a sudden
U-turn at the signal light then return up the avenue.