Catherine clasped her hands. “I’m so glad you’re pleased.”
“Pleased?” His voice was deep, husky. “I’m out of my head, sweetheart.”
His gratitude came with a spontaneous hug. He held her lightly, yet with enough strength that she couldn’t pull free.
His appreciative kiss surprised them both.
Against him, Cat flushed with his warmth. The muscles in his back contracted as her curves brushed the hard planes of his body.
She inhaled, and he exhaled.
They breathed breast to chest.
Memories struck where their hip bones bumped.
His body was solid, strong, unforgettable.
Seconds ticked, expectant and significant.
Daunting for him.
Damning for her.
His angular features shifted from enthusiastic boy to mature man. He looked at her as if he was trying to place her but couldn’t. He grew confused.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him, this nonconformist with his long hair and inky brown eyes. His jaw worked, the scar on his cheek prominent.
He had that male x factor that turned women on with no more than a look. He was staring at her now.
She inhaled the cedar-and-lime scent of his soap, the starch in his cotton shirt, and all that was James Lawless. His strength was indefinable, his body inescapable.
He was momentarily hers.
The walls, bookshelves, wooden bins, and Captain America lost clarity as Law bent for a second kiss.
The man was a master. The initial slant of his lips, the light flick of his tongue made a woman want more.
Much, much more.
He coupled with her mouth with the fierceness she’d experienced at Haunt.
She kissed him back with the desire of Wonder Woman.
It was Law who broke their kiss.
Law whose eyes honed in on her mouth.
His breathing was raw, his recognition sharp. “I know your kiss.”
Startled, she stepped back and hit her hip on the corner of the wooden bin. She rubbed the soon-to-be bruise.
“You couldn’t possibly.” There was no way she was acknowledging what had happened at Haunt. “We met yesterday at Driscoll Financial.”
“Kisses are like fingerprints—no two are alike.”
He was scaring her now. “There have to be similarities.”
He shook his head. “You could blindfold me and have every past lover kiss me. I’d recognize each one, as far back as sixth grade.”
Panic squeezed Cat hard. The floor seemed to shift, and she clutched the wooden bin for balance. A lick to her lips found them warm and swollen. She tasted him on her tongue. “You’re mistaken. Perhaps in sleep—”
“You’re more than a wet dream,” he said, cutting her off. “Lips don’t lie, sweetheart. I’ve kissed you.”
Chapter 6
Law couldn’t take his eyes off Cat. He kept staring at her mouth—so soft, sweet, and responsive. She’d kissed him with want and need, then grown fearful.
Her nerves now ruled her. She’d backed into the wooden bin, then gone on to take out a table. If she wasn’t careful, she’d soon be walking into walls.
She glanced around for the nearest exit, only to realize she’d have to pass him to reach the door. Her sigh was audible.
Cat was hiding something.
He was damn curious.
“The comic.” She handed back the dollar she’d crushed in her hand when they’d kissed. “You’ll need to pay Luella.”
Law allowed her the change of subject, for now, anyway. He pocketed the wrinkly, somewhat sweaty bill. “I’ll owe her six figures once the comic is appraised.”
“Luella’s in the Tea Room.” Cat directed him down the hall, then took off ahead of him.
Law was slow to follow. He watched her retreat.
She couldn’t walk fast enough.
Déjà vu. The sensation was sketchy and just beyond his grasp. He couldn’t put his finger on Cat’s pretty pulse, yet her heartbeat was a part of him. Of that he was certain.
He’d kissed her.
It was all about the when and where.
That would follow.
The Tea Room had cleared out. Only Luella Fern sat at a round parlor table, catching her breath. She welcomed them with peach lemonade, water biscuits with cream cheese, and ladyfingers with raspberry preserves. She looked at his comic book and asked, “You like Captain America?”
“He was a childhood hero,” Law admitted as he took a seat across from her. “This is a first edition and quite valuable.”
Luella’s surprise crinkled the corners of her eyes. “My nephew tossed the comic in the bin years ago. I’d forgotten it was there.”
Law was grateful Cat had unearthed it.
The older lady bit daintily into a water biscuit. “It’s worth more than a dollar?”
“Much more,” said Law. “The sale of your bookstore will make for a nice retirement in Richmond. The price of this comic would buy a beachfront condo in Florida.”
Luella smiled at him. “I do like warm weather. I have a sister in Vero Beach.”
Law would make sure she was set for life.
He looked at Catherine, who sat next to him, perched on a parlor chair, ready to bolt. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, again and again. Law wanted to kiss her still. He knew the more he kissed her, the quicker he’d know who she was to him.
“Catherine will draw up the papers and deliver a check for the shop,” Law told Luella. “Once I have an expert opinion on Captain America, I’ll send additional payment.”
Luella patted his hand. “You’re a good and honest young man,” she praised him. “Anyone else would have bought the comic for a dollar and never shared its true value.” She smiled at him. “My long-deceased husband was a Baltimore Orioles fan. I also enjoy baseball. After today, I’ll be cheering for the Rogues.”
Law pulled out his wallet and extracted his business card. “If you ever want to catch a game, call my assistant, Walter Hastings. He’s good for tickets.”
A glance at his watch, and Law realized he was running late for his commercial shoot. He’d promised Harold Mazzo that he’d arrive by three fifteen for the four o’clock shot. It was already three forty. Law hated to be late.
He pushed to his feet, only to have Luella wave him back down. Rising herself, she moved to an antique desk and slipped a manila envelope from the drawer. “For your comic,” she said.