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his jacket around her shoulders. “Here, you’ll need this.” He wrapped the heavy, faded denim tightly around her body. His arms were bars of steel, hugging her. “It’s chilly out here.”
    Their noses met. She tingled all over with the type of fever chill that would normally send her to bed. Not a bad prescription for tonight, either.
    “But you’ll be even colder on the motorcycle.” Her voice was barely audible.
    “Maybe you shouldn’t be driving in your condition.”
    “I’ll be okay.” He shifted, his body slowly dragging against hers, radiating heat even through the denim. Touched his tongue to her bottom lip, took a small lick. A thrill shot through her. “I can drive. You’re a good tonic for recovery.
    Plus, I’ll be extra careful, because I’m coming back for you tomorrow.”
    He couldn’t be serious. Perhaps “tomorrow” was the equivalent of “I’ll call you.”
    She didn’t know how to respond, but that didn’t really matter since she couldn’t speak. David had placed his lips near hers. She closed her eyes and waited for a kiss that didn’t quite come.
    He held her lip between his teeth, ever so gently. Both of his closed around it and he nibbled. She could not move, except to close her eyes with a sound of surrender that came from deep in her throat. His tongue ran back and forth, laving the stimulated flesh he held so delicately.
    Back and forth, back and forth. How could he be so patient?
    Her nostrils flared, taking in air. She was trying not to pant like an animal.
    Her tongue had never felt so sensitive in her mouth, flicking and furling in anticipation.
    With a long, warm, sucking pull, he released her lip. His face tilted back and he paused for so long she became certain that she’d collapse to the sidewalk with frustration if he didn’t complete the kiss.
    The puckish grin returned, the one that lit up his eyes. “Dang, girl, you’re making my head swim.”
    She shook her head at him. “Dang, girl? Where are you from?”
    The grin dropped away, but he answered lightly enough. “A lil’ do-nothing, go-nowhere town in Georgia.”
    “Ah, a Southerner.” As if she couldn’t tell by his accent. “I’m a Bostonian, through and through.”
    His gaze skimmed her dress, what there was to see of it. “I like the northern states.”
    Out of the weak, wobbly mess that was her mesmerized body, her nipples sprang up like bullets. “But you left the city.”
    “Like a skunk running from its own stink.”
    She smiled at his exaggerated accent. “And now you’re back…?”
    “Visiting friends,” was all he said. He squeezed and released her. “Let me get my bike. I’ll walk you to the door. This might be a ritzy neighborhood, but you still can’t be wandering around alone in that dress.”
    Brooke nodded, surprised by how let down she was that he hadn’t asked again for her to go with him. After that kiss, she might not have been able to say no, even though leaving window dressings scattered in public view was strictly against store policy. The conscientious employee part of her should be thrilled that now she could go back inside and finish up the job with no one the wiser except the night watchman.
    It would be as if putting on the dress and meeting David Carerra had never happened.
    But I’ll know. I’ll remember for the rest of my life that once I could have run off with a sweet-talking stranger, but was too chicken to take the chance.
    ON THE WAY to work the next morning, Brooke stopped off at a newsstand and bought the early edition of every newspaper she could find. She took them to a coffee shop and sat down with a double espresso. After working until two in the morning, then tossing and turning in bed when she should have been sleeping, she needed the extra jolt of caffeine.
    After a healthy swallow and a mental kick in the scaredy-pants, she paged through the first paper. Nothing. Thank you, God.
    She picked up the Insider. The trashy tabloid had never