his elbows while she cleaned and dressed the fresh tattoo. "You here for a tattoo?" he asked.
Kyle shook his head. "No, I'm just here to harass Theresa. I know how much she loves it." There went that blush again, the slightest pink along her cheekbones. It was immensely gratifying and sexy as hell.
Eric dressed and left. Kyle got up and walked over to where Theresa was cleaning off her work space. "I've been thinking about you," he said softly.
Her shoulders stiffened, but she kept on working. Pretending to ignore him.
He smoothed his hands down her upper arms. "I've been thinking about the way you kissed me."
She shrugged out of his grasp and moved over to the workbench. "I didn't kiss you. You kissed me ."
He followed. "Ah, but you kissed me back."
She stripped off her latex gloves and turned to face him. "So what if I did?" Her breasts rose and fell, almost brushing the front of his shirt, though whether she was breathing hard from anger or arousal, he couldn't tell.
"A woman who can kiss like that shouldn't be content with just a kiss." He resisted the urge to touch her again, and settled for staring into her eyes. They were dark brown, almost black, a shade lighter than her hair. Heavily lined in black, the lashes lush with mascara, her eyes looked exotic. Erotic as the rest of her. He shifted his stance to accommodate his growing erection. If she had any doubts about his reaction to her, one look would tell her all she needed to know. "Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about the proposition I made."
She glanced past him, over his shoulder. Too late he remembered the blonde at the cash register. "Scott, go ahead and go to lunch," she said.
"Now?"
"Yes, now. You don't have any appointments until three, do you?"
"Figures you'd run me off just when it was getting interesting." But he scooted his chair back.
A few moments later, the bells on the door sounded and they were alone. He reached for Theresa, intending to kiss her, but she scooted sideways, out of his grasp. "What's in it for me if I do agree to your proposition?" she asked.
He folded his arms across his chest and struck a casual pose against the workbench. "Oh, I don't think you'll be disappointed. The fireworks we set off the other night were just a little preview."
"Don't flatter yourself, cowboy."
He shrugged, ignoring the uneasy feeling in his gut. "What do you want?"
She bit her lip. Her uncertainty surprised him. She took a deep breath. "Okay, here's how it is. If I agree to do this, it's just you and me for six weeks. No other women on the side."
Easy enough. He nodded. "Darlin', I don't intend for either one of us to have time to see anyone else."
She hugged her arms across her breasts. "And you won't try to change me--not the way I dress or act or anything."
He looked her up and down. "I wouldn't change a thing."
"And no lies."
He blinked. "What would I lie about?"
"In my experience, some men will lie about anything. Just don't try it with me. If I find out you've lied, you will live to regret it."
He was starting to get a picture here of one or more lying, cheating, manipulative men she'd been involved with in the past. The thought of some bastard hurting her that way made him more than a little angry. "No lies from me," he said. "Believe it or not, all that stuff about truth, honor and the cowboy way isn't just hogwash."
She nodded, though she hadn't relaxed one bit. "All right then."
Not quite the enthusiastic response he'd been hoping for. "Is that a yes?"
"Come back tonight after closing." She turned and began rearranging things on the workbench. He stared at her back, at the leather miniskirt that clung to her shapely backside, at the fall of straight black hair that reached almost to her waist, at her shoulders hunched against him. That was it? An order to come back later?
"That's not the way to seal a bargain." He closed the gap between them in two strides and put his good hand on her waist, his mouth next to her