Midnight Man Read Online Free Page B
Author: Lisa Marie Rice
hers as if he could walk inside her mind. Then he nodded and walked toward the door. He didn’t seem to rush but he covered ground fast. In a second, he was out the door.
Large as he was, he didn’t make any noise. How could that be? He was wearing boots and they had to make some sound on hardwood flooring, didn’t they?
But he disappeared as silently as he had come. He’d appeared before her as suddenly as a ghost. And then he was gone.
Suzanne stared at where he’d been long after she heard the front door snick shut, then groped blindly for a chair. She had a busy day ahead of her but she couldn’t go anywhere until her legs stopped trembling.
Chapter Three
At 1900 on the dot, John rang Suzanne’s front doorbell and at 1901 he heard the light click of her heels on the floor inside. She was punctual, he had to say that for her.
John supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Suzanne Barron was a businesswoman, after all, and a successful one at that. You don’t survive in business if you can’t meet a schedule.
He’d found the business world, in its own way, as demanding as the Navy.
John stood patiently outside the door, refraining from picking her locks and cutting through the alarm system out of pity. He’d made his point.
No, he stood outside her ridiculous excuse for a door and rang the bell, like a normal human male waiting for a female. To go out. Out on a date.
He supposed that’s how you do it. Man waits for woman outside door. His dating experience was pretty limited. Usually when he wanted sex he’d go to an off-base bar and cast his net until someone bit. Sometimes it took five minutes, sometimes ten.
The women weren’t looking for hearts and flowers and he wasn’t looking to give it to them.
Suzanne Barron was an entirely different matter. Getting into her bed was going to require some finesse and some dusting off of his rusty social skills. He was going to have to make some polite non-business-related conversation, something he rarely had with civilians.
Why couldn’t he just fast forward to the good part? He shrugged his shoulders under the cashmere overcoat that was part of his businessman disguise, wishing they were already in bed, recognizing how unusual it was for him to be so impatient.
He’d once hidden behind a boulder in one of the nastier ‘Stans for four days and four nights without moving a muscle to get a shot at one of Abdul Rasheem’s lieutenants. This itchy feeling was unlike him.
He was going to have to get through this evening. And probably a few other evenings after this one. Asking her out to dinner—out on dates—was necessary. There had to be something between meeting her and having sex. He couldn’t just say, “Let’s go to bed.” It didn’t work that way, not with ladies.
Or so he presumed. He didn’t have much experience with the species. So here he was, locked into getting through an evening making conversation.
He didn’t want to make nice.
He didn’t want to have to give his opinion on how to decorate his new office. He just wanted to dump the whole problem in those pretty hands of hers and let her take care of it. And he sure as hell didn’t need her input into what security system the building needed. He was fine with that.
What he wanted was to skip dinner and go straight to bed. Feel those long, slender legs wrapped around his waist. Sink into her. She’d be hot and tight…
He sighed and shifted, jaws clenched. It was altogether likely that getting into her building was easier than getting into her bed.
The door swung open and there she was, Suzanne Barron, as of this morning his new landlady and just about the most desirable woman he’d ever seen, silhouetted in the frame, warm fragrant air from inside the building condensing in the cold night.
Damn! His stomach clenched. Did the whole freaking building smell like her?
She looked
Large as he was, he didn’t make any noise. How could that be? He was wearing boots and they had to make some sound on hardwood flooring, didn’t they?
But he disappeared as silently as he had come. He’d appeared before her as suddenly as a ghost. And then he was gone.
Suzanne stared at where he’d been long after she heard the front door snick shut, then groped blindly for a chair. She had a busy day ahead of her but she couldn’t go anywhere until her legs stopped trembling.
Chapter Three
At 1900 on the dot, John rang Suzanne’s front doorbell and at 1901 he heard the light click of her heels on the floor inside. She was punctual, he had to say that for her.
John supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Suzanne Barron was a businesswoman, after all, and a successful one at that. You don’t survive in business if you can’t meet a schedule.
He’d found the business world, in its own way, as demanding as the Navy.
John stood patiently outside the door, refraining from picking her locks and cutting through the alarm system out of pity. He’d made his point.
No, he stood outside her ridiculous excuse for a door and rang the bell, like a normal human male waiting for a female. To go out. Out on a date.
He supposed that’s how you do it. Man waits for woman outside door. His dating experience was pretty limited. Usually when he wanted sex he’d go to an off-base bar and cast his net until someone bit. Sometimes it took five minutes, sometimes ten.
The women weren’t looking for hearts and flowers and he wasn’t looking to give it to them.
Suzanne Barron was an entirely different matter. Getting into her bed was going to require some finesse and some dusting off of his rusty social skills. He was going to have to make some polite non-business-related conversation, something he rarely had with civilians.
Why couldn’t he just fast forward to the good part? He shrugged his shoulders under the cashmere overcoat that was part of his businessman disguise, wishing they were already in bed, recognizing how unusual it was for him to be so impatient.
He’d once hidden behind a boulder in one of the nastier ‘Stans for four days and four nights without moving a muscle to get a shot at one of Abdul Rasheem’s lieutenants. This itchy feeling was unlike him.
He was going to have to get through this evening. And probably a few other evenings after this one. Asking her out to dinner—out on dates—was necessary. There had to be something between meeting her and having sex. He couldn’t just say, “Let’s go to bed.” It didn’t work that way, not with ladies.
Or so he presumed. He didn’t have much experience with the species. So here he was, locked into getting through an evening making conversation.
He didn’t want to make nice.
He didn’t want to have to give his opinion on how to decorate his new office. He just wanted to dump the whole problem in those pretty hands of hers and let her take care of it. And he sure as hell didn’t need her input into what security system the building needed. He was fine with that.
What he wanted was to skip dinner and go straight to bed. Feel those long, slender legs wrapped around his waist. Sink into her. She’d be hot and tight…
He sighed and shifted, jaws clenched. It was altogether likely that getting into her building was easier than getting into her bed.
The door swung open and there she was, Suzanne Barron, as of this morning his new landlady and just about the most desirable woman he’d ever seen, silhouetted in the frame, warm fragrant air from inside the building condensing in the cold night.
Damn! His stomach clenched. Did the whole freaking building smell like her?
She looked
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