The Name of the Game (16 page)

“Black, right?” he asked, sliding the mug in front of her, because of course he already knew the answer.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft as she wrapped her hands around the warm mug. When he sat back down she flushed again, and wanted to strangle herself. She licked her dry lips. “I'm sorry I passed out on you.”

He shrugged, pushing his iPad out of the way. “I'll try not to take it personally that you keep falling asleep on me.”

She covered her face with her hands and let out a little shriek. “God, I'm so sorry! I don't know what happened.”

“Hey,” he said, his tone gentle. “I was teasing. You had a long day, and a lot to drink. It was bound to happen.”

She let her hands fall away and blew out a breath. “But I had a massage and a nap. I don't have a good excuse.”

“It's fine.” He grinned and she wanted to drop her panties, crawl up onto the table and offer herself to him. “I guess I'll have to work harder at keeping you stimulated.”

She cocked her head to the side. “You can't be serious. Any more stimulation and I'll have a heart attack.”

The grin turned into an arrogant smile. “Really now?”

She straightened, spine snapping straight. “Don't be fishing for compliments.”

He laughed. “You'd never give them to me anyway.”

By his tone, he'd meant to be playful, but the statement bothered her. It was true. She never gave an inch with him when she'd give other people a mile. And the time had come to rectify that wrong. “I'm sorry.”

“None of that. I was joking and I haven't exactly been doling out the praise either.” He leaned over the table. “The night we went to dinner with everyone, when I told you that you looked nice. That was a lie. You looked a hell of a lot better than nice. Jesus, those legs and those boots, I had nightmares for weeks.”

Breathless, she asked, “Nightmares?”

“I glared at you because I wanted you for myself and I didn't think I'd ever have you.”

“I'm here now.”

He gave her a long, slow once-over that sent tingles racing down her spine. “Yes, you are.”

She cleared her throat. “I didn't know.”

“Know what?”

“That you were attracted to me.”

“Are you still unclear on the matter?”

She swallowed and shook her head.

His expression darkened. “As much as I'd like to provide you with more proof, we've got to pick up Declan in an hour.”

That's right. They were spending the day with James's thirteen-year-old cousin. “Are you sure you want me to come? I don't want to intrude on your time with him.”

James chuckled. “I think he'd murder me if I showed up without you. I asked you not to make him fall in love with you, didn't I?”

Her mood lightened considerably and she gave him a galled expression. “Excuse me, I didn't do anything except play video games with him.”

“That's more than enough, baby girl.”

The endearment, the low tone of his voice, sent instant lust crashing through her. Had the room's temperature increased by twenty degrees? “Don't call me that.” The words came out a sputter.

“Why's that?”

“I'm a grown woman.” She had no idea what she protested, but the intimacy made her uncomfortable. And hot. Very, very hot.

He smiled, and it was all too knowing. “You're a horrible liar.” His vision swept down her body and she pulled her least sexy robe tighter around her frame. “I could practically feel you get hotter.”

Damn incorrigible, too observant man. Her mouth fell open. “Don't be egotistical.”

He cocked a brow. “Do you want to go out tonight? Or stay in?”

The change of topic gave her whiplash, throwing her even further off-balance. It's what she hated about him. She never got the upper hand. Unfortunately, she'd come to discover it was also what turned her on the most about him.

If she agreed to stay in tonight, she knew what would happen. Well, in fairness, it would happen if they went out too. But if she said she wanted to forgo dinner, she was admitting she couldn't wait. That she was desperate for him.

And it was all the truth. She didn't want to deny it. She might not be able to throw herself at him, but she wouldn't pretend that a night alone with James wasn't what she wanted. She sucked in her bottom lip, then blew out a breath. “Stay in.”

His expression flashed. Heated. “Good. Now go get dressed.”

She went, grabbing her coffee to take with her. She made it to the top step before stopping to look over her shoulder. Determined to try and gain some upper ground, she gave him a slow smile. One she'd used a million times, which never failed to put a man off his game. “James?”

He glanced at her, the question in his eyes.

“Last night,” she purred in her most sultry voice. “It was phenomenal.”

“I know.” His tone smug and sure.

She sucked in a gasp. Damn him. She stomped up the stairs to the sound of his laughter ringing in her ears. The jerk.

Well, she'd show him. She'd been seducing men since she was old enough to know better and she could sure as hell seduce the professor. By the end of this day she didn't intend to be the only person driven mad with desire.

And wouldn't he be sorry?

Chapter Fourteen

“Where are we?” Gracie asked. Those blue eyes that drove James crazy widened at the line of people on the sidewalk.

Declan popped his head up from the backseat. “You've never been here? It's the best fast-food place in the city.”

James grinned at Declan's cool voice. The kid had been salivating all over Gracie since they'd picked him up twenty minutes ago, pulling out all the tricks in his thirteen-year-old book.

Gracie twisted in her seat. She wore her hair in some sort of ponytail, the tendrils curling over her cheekbones. Her makeup was light, but she kept applying some damnable lip gloss that made her mouth look the best type of obscene. Whenever she slathered the gloss over her pouty lips she gave him a sly, half-lidded look as she used slow, deliberate strokes.

Apparently she was in full seduction mode and James couldn't deny he enjoyed every minute, now that it was finally directed at him. She smoothed down a white top that hugged her Marilyn Monroe body, before brushing her hand over her thighs encased in tight, low-cut jeans that accented the flair of her hips and tiny waist.

She should look cute. She didn't.

She looked like sex and sin and he was already contemplating all the mean, dirty things he planned to do to her. Last night had been a precursor. She'd learn soon enough that being thorough and detail orientated wasn't all bad.

She gave Declan her knockout smile and James watched his cousin slip deeper into infatuation.

“It's a hot-dog place?” Gracie asked.

“It's the sausage emporium of Chicago,” James said, keeping his expression deadpan.

“But you don't eat sausage,” she said, her brow wrinkled.

Declan snorted, his face jutting between James and Gracie, blocking his view. “Um, yeah, he does, we come here all the time.”

Gracie raised a blond brow. “Really?”

“Don't be so surprised,” James said. “I make all sorts of exceptions for delicious things.”

She jerked her attention back to Declan. “What do you recommend?”

“Make sure you get the duck-fat fries, they're the best,” Declan said, pointing at the growing line. “We'd better go or we'll have to wait forever.”

“Duck-fat fries?” Gracie's expression was still twisted in confusion.

James shrugged. “A Chicago delicacy. And he's right, we'd better go. The wait is long but worth it.”

She shook her head, the curls fluttering around her face. “What kind of sausage is worth a two-block wait?”

“Trust us, you won't be sorry,” Declan said, and slid out of the car.

Gracie moved to open her door, but James grabbed her wrist and tugged her back, leaning in to flick his tongue over her bottom lip.

She sucked in a breath.

James was starting to live for that breathy little sound. He wanted to sink into her, but resisted. He brushed her mouth again. If she wanted to tease, he'd tease.

 

 

An hour later they were squeezed in around a small table Gracie had finagled from two college guys, who'd fallen all over themselves to offer up their seats for a chance to talk to her. James had rolled his eyes at the whole exchange as Gracie dazzled them, flirting with them good-naturedly in that effortless way she had. A man had to have a healthy ego to be around her or he'd die of insecurity within the first hour.

Despite his geek status, James had actually dated plenty of beautiful women, but none of them attracted the type of attention Gracie did. It was hard to pinpoint what it was that attracted so much admiration. She wasn't classically beautiful, but there was something mesmerizing about her. The woman was just sexy as hell. But more than that, she was very accessible. She invited people in with her smile, her warmth and easy laugh.

Today, it was hard to remember why she was so unsuitable for him. Or what exactly he'd been objecting so strongly about.

She took a healthy bite of the sausage she'd ordered with Brie, onions, and truffle oil, and her eyes about rolled to the back of her head. She moaned, picking up a napkin and dabbing her lips as she chewed. When she swallowed, she put her hands on the table. “Holy. Shit.”

He laughed, and when Declan laughed too she frowned. “Sorry, I shouldn't be swearing, but that might be one of the best things I've ever put in my mouth.”

James wondered if she'd someday include him on that list.

Declan scowled. “I'm in seventh grade. I hear worse than that at the bus stop.”

Gracie's lips quirked with amusement, but she nodded in all seriousness, then plucked a fry out of the basket in the middle of the table. “Where do you go to school?”

Declan took a sip of his root beer. “Saint Pats.”

“Do you like it?”

Declan shrugged.

While Declan was in the top of his class and had above average intelligence, school was not a good place for him. Unfortunately, James could sympathize all too well, and it was one of the reasons he spent time with his cousin. Declan's painful school experiences mirrored James's own past and he worked his ass off to give the kid a place he felt accepted. A place where he could get out of the house, have some fun and activity without feeling like he was a loser.

James gave Gracie a slight shake of the head.

Of course she didn't miss a beat and gave his cousin a winning smile, waving her hand in the air. “It's Saturday, who wants to talk about school? So, more important subjects, what's your favorite video game?”

Declan's shoulders relaxed and he was off, talking about various games, the pros and cons of different platforms, talking about the latest cult indie game, going into the kind of detail only a true gamer could aspire to.

Gracie listened with rapt attention, hanging on his every word as though he was the captain of the football team describing a big play. She asked questions. Listened. Laughed when he made a joke. And with every passing comment from her, Declan's spine got a little straighter, his expression a little brighter.

And that was the thing about her. What made her special. She listened. Really listened in away few people did. In ten minutes she managed to do what James had been working on for two years. She made Declan feel important.

James wanted to kiss her in gratitude.

Gracie took another bite of her sandwich, nodding at something Declan said. After she swallowed she asked, “So who exactly is this
Doctor Who
?”

Declan looked at her in shock, as though she'd never heard of breathing. “You've never watched
Doctor Who
?”

Gracie shook her head, then cocked a grin at James. “Am I the only one?”

“Seems so,” James said. “The show's gained quite a bit of popularity recently. Much more accessible than Declan's and my current favorite, Japanese monster movies.”

A smile quivered on Gracie's lips.

“We like anime too, but I think you'd love
Doctor Who
. It's an awesome sci-fi show,” Declan interjected, waving a fry in the air. “I know—we should have a marathon.”

Gracie held up her hands. “Wait a minute. Before I agree, I need to know what I'm getting into, because I'm not a big sci-fi fan and I hate
Star Trek
.”

James looked at her in mock horror. “You hate
Star Trek
?”

“Yes, awful show.” A shadow passed over her face. “My dad used to watch it on Saturdays, the old ones.”

James realized he'd never once heard her mention a father, although he knew her mom had died from breast cancer and that Gracie had been her caregiver during her illness. The memory clearly wasn't a good one, but since his cousin was there, James let it slide. “
Doctor Who
is the far superior show.”

“What's it about?” she asked.

Declan hurried to jump in before James could speak. “The Doctor travels through time and space in a blue police box, saving the universe.”

“Sounds . . . interesting.” Gracie smiled.

“I don't think she's buying it,” James said.

“Give us one episode to convince you,” Declan said.

Gracie held up one finger. “All right, one.”

“Hmm . . .” James scrubbed a hand over his jaw and looked her up and down appraisingly. “Which one do you think?”

“‘Blink'?” Declan sat back in his chair and mimicked James's gestures, and James contained his smile.

“That's good, nice and scary. What about ‘Midnight'?” James said.

Declan nodded seriously. “Good stand-alone.”

“Christmas is in a couple months, what about ‘A Christmas Carol'?” James said, and Gracie beamed at him, clearly enjoying herself.

“Not a favorite. How about ‘Human Nature'?” Declan asked.

James eyed Gracie. “Or we could just go with the classic, ‘Dalek'.”

Gracie blinked at them, shaking her head. “Do you know the name of every episode?”

Declan gave her a perplexed look, as though it was the strangest question he'd ever been asked. “Well, yeah.”

“I see,” Gracie said slowly, her lips quivering as she looked at James. “And you?”

“Of course,” James answered in his most serious tone. “What kind of fans would we be if we didn't know episode names?”

She shook her head. “That explains the T-shirt.”

James grinned. “I'm sorry to say it's not even my only one.”

She tilted her cup at his vintage blue T-shirt that a former student had given him, which read,
Fear the Professor.
“I see we went un-trademarked today.”

“I like to keep it interesting.”

Gracie shook her head, twisting the curls of her ponytail. “So tell me, how exactly did you decide to be an anthropologist?”

“Forensic anthropologist,” he corrected.

She wrinkled her nose. “What's the difference?”

“Dead people—he studies dead people,” Declan supplied helpfully.

She blinked, fluttering those lashes at him. “Why did you want to teach
that
?”

It was the first time she'd seemed genuinely interested in his career and shown anything but distain. Progress. “I do more than teach. I also do a lot of consulting.”

“For who?”

He shrugged. “Chicago police, FBI, military.”

“He's even worked for the CIA,” Declan said, excitement ringing in his voice. His cousin forgave James for the dead people when it came to espionage. Not that he had done anything remotely exotic for the agency.

Surprise lit Gracie's expression. “Really?”

“Really,” James said. Did she actually sound a little impressed?

“How did you get into the field?” she asked.

“It seemed interesting, and after my dad's death, there was something satisfying about giving people closure when they lost someone.” Even though his father hadn't been murdered, he'd died so suddenly, James had struggled after his death.

He'd spent many nights replaying their last conversation in his head and wishing he could go back and say something significant. It hadn't been about anything in particular. A test he had in school that day, his dad hurrying him out the door so he wouldn't be late. James hadn't even hugged him good-bye. Why would he? He'd been a teenager. How could he have guessed that was the last time he'd see his father?

James had started college as a pre-med major, not because he'd wanted to be a doctor but because he liked science and didn't know what else to be. He'd taken a forensics class and it occurred to him how horrible it would be to have a family member disappear and not know what had happened to them. He'd switched majors shortly thereafter and the rest was history.

Gracie straightened in her chair, folding her arms and putting them on the table in front of her. “Aren't you full of surprises.”

“It's never been a secret, Gracie.” James's gaze dropped to her mouth.

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “What's on the agenda for the rest of the day?”

James smiled. He could become addicted to throwing Gracie off-balance. “I thought we could head over to Extreme for rock climbing and laser tag.”

“Laser tag and rock climbing?” Her words were slow and careful.

“Yes, I thought it would be fun.” James liked to mix up the things he did with Declan and after sausage and duck-fat fries he thought activity was in order.

Her lashes narrowed as she eyed him suspiciously. “Is this a covert way of getting me to exercise?”

Declan scoffed and grinned at Gracie. “No, it's a covert way of getting
me
to exercise.”

“You're both wrong,” James said. “It's a blatant way of getting you to have fun. Exercise is just a bonus.”

Gracie stood and started gathering up the debris on the table. “Okay, but don't try and trick us into working out. Declan and I are too smart for that.”

The boy beamed at her, his round cheeks rosy with pleasure. He gave a definitive nod. “Yeah!”

“You be quiet,” he said to Declan before shifting his gaze to Gracie. His attention traveled over her body in a long, slow perusal that had her crossing her arms over her ample chest. He wanted to tell her if she'd wanted to hide her peaked nipples she should have worn a different shirt, but since his cousin was here, hanging on their every word, James said, “I'll get you to work up a sweat one way or the other, baby girl.”

The fork she'd been holding fell from her hands. She scowled at him, brushed her hands off, and then her expression turned sly. “I'll make you a deal, Professor. I will play your game, but afterward I'm making cupcakes and you'll have to eat some. Don't you think that sounds fair, Declan?”