The Favor

He had a sudden urge to go to her, take her hands, and ask her what he could do to help. The realization, and the effort it took to remain on his stool, surprised him. Rescuing damsels in distress was not the type of work that either Kane Management or Favors for a Fee regularly engaged in. He might like women in all their various shapes and sizes, but he didn’t often find himself with an urge to do the knight-in-shining-armor thing.

He was bored. That’s what it was. Mark Anderson had piqued his curiosity and then kept him waiting for over half an hour. Swivelling back to the bar, Ryder took another sip of beer and checked on the score. The Orioles were tied at the top of the seventh. He didn’t turn when she passed behind him. That was why he only glimpsed what happened out of the corner of his eye. The loud obnoxious man who was working on his third beer shoved another man and that man plowed into another in a domino effect that sent the blonde stumbling backward.

Fate, he thought, slipping from his stool and catching her elbows as she struggled for balance. For one brief moment, as he steadied her, he caught her scent—something that reminded him of tart lemonade on a hot afternoon. Surprising. And certainly not sexy, at least he wouldn’t have thought so. But his body had different ideas. If he’d followed his impulse, he would have turned her around and pressed her close, just to see what that would feel like. But Ryder Kane could be cautious when the occasion called for it. And the intuition that he’d come to rely on in his work told him something about this fragile beauty spelled trouble.

“You all right?” he asked as he turned her around and carefully set her away from him.

“Yes.” Then she gasped. “My bag.”

Ryder saw the canvas bag on the floor, its contents spread about. As he dropped to his knees, he picked up the nearest item—the inhaler she’d used. He reached for the objects that had slid beneath his bar stool—a pack of blue note cards and a plastic bottle that held prescription pills. Sierra Gibbs was the name he noted and she was to take two as needed for migraines. A definite nervous Nelly.

“Thanks.” The voice was deep and just a little breathless. When he turned, she was on her knees facing him, and for an instant as he gazed into her eyes, his mind went blank except for one word. You.

Ryder couldn’t put a name to the feeling that raced through him. It didn’t feel like the flashes of intuition he sometimes got. And it couldn’t be recognition. The first time he’d laid eyes on this woman was a few moments ago.

This close, her face wasn’t quite as perfect as it had seemed from a distance. Oh, the skin made him think of pale and delicate porcelain—the kind that you were almost afraid to touch. But the sprinkle of freckles across her nose and the faint scar on her chin made it more interesting.

The hair wasn’t quite perfect either. Several long strands had come loose. Reaching out, he resisted the urge to pull the rest loose and instead tucked one of the stands behind her ear. He heard her quick intake of breath and felt the instant tightening of his body as his fingers touched her skin. When she bit even white teeth into her bottom lip, heat shot through him. He wanted very much to replace those teeth with his own.

Okay. Now he could name exactly what he was feeling. Lust. That was familiar. He might have even relaxed a bit if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t quite free himself from her gaze. Her eyes were the deep-blue color of lake water—the kind that tempted you to jump right in even though there was no telling what lay below the surface. From the time he’d been a kid, he’d been fascinated by the water, by the secrets it held, the adventures it promised.

“You remind me of someone,” she said in that same breathless voice that sent ripples of awareness along his skin.

“Really?” He watched her eyes narrow until she was looking at him as if she were determined to see everything.

She took a deep breath. “Have me met somewhere before?”

He smiled. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

WHEN SIERRA caught his meaning, she felt color flood her cheeks. In a moment, she’d be beet-red. Her skin was already flushed from that arrow of heat that had shot through her during the moment when he’d held her against him. His chest had been hard as a rock, and the warmth of his breath at her temple had made her insides melt. She’d never reacted quite that physically to a man before. She’d never talked to a stranger in a bar before.

And he thought…he thought she was coming on to him.

“I didn’t mean…” she began. “I’m not trying to… It’s just that… I mean…” How was she supposed to explain that strange feeling of recognition she’d felt just seconds ago when she’d looked into his eyes? “I—”

“Stop.” He held up a hand. “I’d rather you didn’t tell me that you’re not trying to pick me up. My ego is very fragile.”

The glint of humor she saw in his eyes settled some of her nerves. “Somehow, I don’t think so.”

Competent and confident were the two words that came to mind as she studied him. He was different from the men who frequented the Blue Pepper—they were either local merchants or the up-and-coming movers and shakers of DC. He was also different from the men she ran into in her field of work. They were slow-moving academics. Cautious book people who seldom took risks. Just like herself.

This man, in addition to having classic Adonis-like good looks, was…what? Real was the first word that came immediately to mind. His skin was a golden-brown that came from working in the sun rather than a tanning salon, and she bet the muscles she’d felt came from something other than a tri-weekly appointment with a personal trainer. And there was a hint of danger about him.

He smiled at her then, and her gaze shifted to his mouth. For a moment she thought of nothing at all, except how those lips might feel pressed to hers. The thought startled her. She’d never before wanted to pull a man’s mouth to hers.

“Why don’t we start over?” He took her hand, and though his fingers only gripped hers lightly, she felt the sensation right down to her toes.

“I’ll say I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere, I’ll introduce myself and I’ll offer to buy you a drink? And you’ll say…?”

She couldn’t say a thing. They were squatting down, leaning toward each other, their fingers linked, their knees nearly brushing, and she’d never felt this kind of intense connection with anyone in her life.

In the part of her mind that hadn’t shut down, she realized that she wasn’t feeling like herself at all. Around them, people edged past. Above them, faint noises swirled—glasses clinking, people talking, laughing. She barely heard them. All she knew was that she wanted this man—this perfect stranger—to kiss her. She couldn’t recall ever wanting anything quite this much. What would happen if she just leaned a little closer, reached up and drew his mouth to hers?

Her sister Natalie would do it. And her sister Rory wouldn’t be the least bit afraid. What about the Sierra she wanted to be? She would do it. Suddenly, the wanting, the need was so strong that she felt herself swaying toward him.

As if he’d read her mind, he tightened his grip on her fingers and his free hand moved to the back of her neck, steadying her. “I want to kiss you,” he said.

Startled, she raised her eyes to meet his, and the old Sierra suddenly reasserted herself. “You…can’t.”

His brows lifted. “If you don’t want me to, offering a challenge isn’t the best strategy.”

She’d known he would be a bit dangerous, but she hadn’t expected the thrill that moved through her. “I’m not offering a challenge. But we’re in a public place. We don’t even know each other.”

His lips curved again. “And your point is?”

She moistened her lips, and tried to focus her thoughts. What was her point? If she truly wanted to initiate a sexual relationship with a man, she had to start somewhere. It would be good practice. “Never before in my life have I wanted to kiss someone that I didn’t know.”

Something flashed into his eyes then, and it made her breath hitch.

“That makes two of us,” he murmured as he took her mouth with his.

A riot of sensations moved through her. His mouth was just as strong, just as competent as she’d anticipated. It terrified her. It delighted her. The scrape of his teeth on her bottom lip, the clever slide of his tongue over hers sent tiny explosions of pleasure shooting through her.

She’d never been kissed like this—as if he had all the time in the world to take and take and take. She’d never felt this alive. Her blood pounded, her body heated until all the worry, all the anxiety that had been plaguing her for weeks seemed to evaporate. She should think. But how could she when her whole being seemed to be filled with him? No one had ever made her feel this way. So wanted. So wanton. So free.

You. The word repeated itself over and over in her head as she gripped his shoulders and felt those tensed, hard muscles. Greed erupted in her. She wanted to touch more of him. She wanted to run her fingers through that dark hair. She wanted to press her palms against his chest, his back, his waist. And she wanted his clothes out of the way.

With a moan, she moved her hands to the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

RYDER FELT as if he were going under for the last time. Worse, he felt as if this time he’d be sucked into a riptide that would drag him places he’d never been before.

Oh, he’d experienced the sparks from the moment that he’d touched her. Those he’d been familiar enough with. And he’d known that he was skilled enough to fan them into a flame. That had been his plan. He would coax until she offered and then take a real taste of her.

But she wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Her mouth wasn’t soft and warm as he’d expected. Instead, it was hot and avid and as demanding as his own. She was so alive. So responsive. He felt the beat of her pulse against his fingertips, the moan vibrating deep in her throat. And beneath the passion, he could sense innocence, too.

Greed—his, hers, or a combination—rocketed through his system, tearing at his control. This was a first for him. No woman had ever set off this fevered combination of sensations and needs.

Needs? Even as a little alarm bell went off in his mind, Ryder felt a flash of intuition—the kind he often got when he was working on a case. This woman could have the power to shake up a life he was perfectly satisfied with. That uncomfortable possibility, along with the fact that they were kneeling on the floor of a very public place, had him grasping the reins of his control and pulling tight.

Slowly, he set her from him. Her eyes were huge and that blue color had turned smoky. Her hair had tumbled to her shoulders, and she looked every bit as stunned as he felt.

“Are you all right?” His voice was ragged, and when he drew in a deep breath, his lungs burned. He’d forgotten to breathe. Another first. Just who was this woman that she could do this to him?

It had been years since he’d allowed himself to need anyone or anything. No one could be depended on. He’d learned that lesson the hard way when his mother had walked out on him, and later, when his aunt had left him too. He was always careful to keep his relationships with women uncomplicated and mutually satisfying. This woman had complications written all over her.

Despite all that, he wanted to kiss her again. He was going to have to give that some thought.

When she closed her eyes, and sagged, he felt a sprint of fear. That was a first too. How could he feel such a concern for a woman he didn’t even know?

“Are you all right?” he repeated as he tightened his grip on her.

NO, SHE WASN’T all right. And she wasn’t feeling like herself at all. Clenching her fists, Sierra stiffened her spine, and wished for her inhaler. If she’d had any strength in her limbs, she might have tried to find it. Instead, on a count of ten, she drew in a breath and let it out.

“Fine. I’m fine.” She would be in a minute. What had she been thinking? She’d kissed him. She’d let him kiss her back. And there was something, someone, inside her who wanted very much to repeat the experience.

She drew in another breath and pushed down the little ripples of panic that threatened to turn into huge waves. The problem was she hadn’t been thinking at all when he was kissing her. For those few moments, she’d felt so extraordinary, so…wild, and so incredibly wanton. It was as if she were a totally different woman. She took yet another breath.

“Here,” he said, pushing something into the hand he’d been holding. “Do you need this? Or this?”

Once he released her hand, her brain started to clear. Sierra glanced down to see that he was offering her inhaler and the prescription pills she carried with her at all times. Reality check. This was the old Sierra Gibbs, she thought, a woman who suffered from asthma and migraines. That Sierra wasn’t a woman who kissed strangers in bars. So who was the woman who had kissed this man?

It was a new question and her desire to find the answer to it had her fighting off another onslaught of panic. She used her inhaler. Then feeling a bit steadier, she said, “Thanks.” Steeling herself, she met his eyes.

Concern was all she saw. There was nothing of the desire she’d seen earlier. Sierra swallowed her disappointment. All of her life she’d managed to bring out the protective streak in men. Even Bradley Winthrop, the man she was currently seeing, treated her as if he were her caretaker.

Wasn’t that one of the reasons that she’d come up with her five-step plan? She didn’t want to be the baby who was taken care of anymore. And she wanted to be a take-charge woman in the bedroom as well as out. In short, she wanted to be the woman she’d just been in this man’s arms.

She’d do well to remember that she had a five-step plan. But while she was gazing into his eyes, it was difficult to remember the steps. His eyes were as gray as smoke, the kind that could swallow you up in a heartbeat. For the first time in her life, the thought of losing herself that way sent a little thrill through her.

Oh, she was definitely not the same woman who’d walked into the bar a few minutes ago. But she wasn’t at all sure that she was ready to be the woman she’d felt bloom inside her during that kiss. She had to think…she…

“At least let me buy you a drink. You look as if you could use one. I know I could.”

“Yes. Okay.” The words were out before she remembered. “Oh no, I can’t. I forgot.” She tore her eyes from his and glanced around. How could she have forgotten her sisters, not to mention her father’s letter?

“You have a date?”

“Yes.” She grabbed her canvas bag and stuffed the pills and the inhaler into it. “Sort of.” Spotting her day planner under a stool, she reached for it, but he was quicker.

“Sierra Gibbs, Ph.D.” He read the name off the card that had slipped out of the plastic slot on the cover. “What’s the Ph.D. in?”

“Psychology and Sociology.” She glanced around, but didn’t spot the letter from her father.

“Two Ph.D.’s. I’m impressed, Doc. And you’re a shrink?”

In spite of the interest in his voice, she kept her eyes averted. “Not in the way you probably mean. I don’t have a private practice or anything like that.”

“No couch?”

“No. Only psychiatrists use those.” He was smiling, she was sure of it, but she didn’t dare risk another look at his mouth. She wouldn’t be able to think if she did. “I teach at Georgetown in the graduate school. Mostly, I do research and write. I just finished a book.” She was babbling. And no wonder. Her lips were still vibrating from that kiss.

In spite of her resolve, she found herself looking at his mouth again. Immediately, curiosity began to war with common sense. If she just had the courage to lean forward and close the distance, would she experience that same whirl of sensations again? The thought slipped into her mind so easily, as if the man who’d just kissed her was simply some experiment that she wanted to run through again.

But he wasn’t a lab experiment, and she should really get a grip. Her sisters would be waiting for her, she reminded herself. She was never late for an appointment. And she had her father’s letter to read.

Scrambling reluctantly to her feet, she said, “I really have to go.”

She made it halfway to the stairs that led to the upper dining level when she remembered the letter. With a flutter of panic, she whirled around and saw that he was right behind her, the envelope in his outstretched hand.

“It was under one of the stools,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Ryder grabbed her wrist before she could turn and used a finger under her chin so that she had to meet his eyes.

“The kiss was my pleasure, too, Dr. Gibbs.”

“I…it was…I don’t think…I…”

Ryder smiled at her. This blushing, flustered woman was the nervous Nellie he’d first spotted pacing in front of the restaurant. This side of her contrasted sharply with the determined-looking Joan of Arc who’d strode so purposefully into the restaurant. And then there was the woman he’d held in his arms a few minutes ago. “Kisses are best when you can’t think at all—don’t you think?”

Color flooded her face, and Ryder saw once again the innocence that he’d sensed in the woman who’d kissed him so passionately. How many other women lurked below the surface? Curious, he felt the strong pull of desire. Oh, there were complications here all right.

“That kiss was…” she began.

“Incredibly exciting.”

“Yes, but I think…I’m sure….”

Later, Ryder would wonder if he might have given into impulse and kissed her again right then and there, but his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. The high-tech version of “saved by the bell,” he supposed as he took it out.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said to Sierra Gibbs before, with some effort, he turned away and took the call.

“Ryder, it’s Mark.” Static rattled in his ear for a second. “…delayed…not going…make it.”

Right. Mark Anderson, the man he was supposed to meet. And the man who’d slipped right out of his mind for the past few minutes. “Where are you?”

“I’ve been…think it was worth it.”

In spite of the choppy connection, Ryder could hear the excitement in his old friend’s voice, and something else that he recognized as fear. “Are you all right?”

“…can’t talk…on the phone. Not safe…they can trace the location…?”

“If they have the right equipment,” Ryder said. And just what was Mark involved in that he’d have people tracing his cell? “Are you in trouble?”

“…tomorrow…same place?”

“Sure. Blue Pepper, five o’clock?” Ryder frowned when he realized that the call had ended. He hoped that they had the time straight between them.

He was about to climb back on his stool when he spotted the blue note card beneath it. It had to have fallen out of the doc’s bag. He bent over and picked it up. He was turning, intending to take it to her, when his gaze fell on the neat little list.

A five-step plan for initiating a sexual relationship with a man.

Intrigued, he read further.

1 Attend speed-date night at the Blue Pepper and collect data. 7/28.

2 Study data. 7/29.

3 Select a lover. 7/30.

4 Review and select appropriate sex techniques. 7/31.

5 Initiate sexual relationship.

Could this possibly be what it seemed to be? Eyes narrowed, Ryder read the list again.

What kind of a woman set out to have an affair with a to-do list in hand?

2

AS SIERRA made her way up the stairs to the dining room, she felt two different women warring inside of her. One of them wanted to turn around and kiss that man again. The other one was much more cautious. The second was the one who currently had the upper hand.

Still, she’d kissed a stranger in a bar and part of her had enjoyed it. She hugged the knowledge to her, hoping that the experience would give her the confidence she needed to go forward with her plan.

She spotted her sisters the minute she entered the dining room. They were already seated and Rad, one of the owners of the Blue Pepper, was emptying a tray of drinks and an hors d’oeuvres platter onto their table.

She was late. Just how much time had she spent kneeling on the floor with that man?

Too much time, a little voice in her head lectured.

Not enough time, another voice taunted. Not nearly enough.

Stopping short, Sierra straightened and drew in a deep breath. It just wasn’t like her to think that way. She dug though her bag and then closed her fingers around the inhaler, just in case she needed it. She had to put the man and the kiss out of her mind until she accomplished her mission.

Drawing in another deep breath, she headed toward the table.

Rad spotted her first and hurried toward her, surprise lighting his features. “Dr. Gibbs! You look absolutely ravishing tonight.”

It was Sierra’s turn to be surprised as Rad hugged her and rose on his toes to kiss the air on one side of her head. Rad and his partner, George, ran the Blue Pepper. George, a huge bronze giant of a man, handled the bar while Rad greeted the customers. A small man, Rad changed his hair color nearly as frequently as he changed his ties. Tonight, the white spikes matched his shirt and the tiny dots in his fuchsia tie. As a dues-paying member of the fashion police, Rad was not given to hyperbole. His usual greeting to her was a sigh.

Holding her at arm’s length, Rad studied her carefully. “It’s your hair. That’s what it is. You’ve finally taken my advice to wear it down.”

Her hair. Sierra ran a hand through it. Sometime during that all-consuming kiss, the man in the bar must have loosened her hair. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder, but she couldn’t see him.

Rad gripped her arms and turned her to face her sisters. “Tell her she looks ravishing with her hair down.”

“Ravishing,” Natalie agreed, winking at Sierra.

“Totally,” Rory said. “We’ve been telling her that for years. But does she listen to us? No. We’re just her sisters. We owe you big-time, Rad.”

“Just part of the service,” Rad said, sweeping them a bow before he turned and hurried away.

“This is a major coup,” Rory said as she snagged a shrimp off the hors d’oeuvres platter. “You’re usually immune to Rad’s advice. What’s up?”

She’d just kissed a stranger in the bar, Sierra thought. From her seat, she was able to scan the bar again, but he wasn’t in sight.

“Sierra?” Natalie asked. “Is something wrong?”

Sierra gripped her inhaler more tightly as she drew in another deep breath and refocused her thoughts. “I’m just a bit nervous about opening Harry’s letter.” That was the truth, just not the whole truth.

“Have a shrimp,” Rory said, pushing the platter closer. “Food always soothes my nerves.”

“Thanks, I’ll pass,” Sierra said.

“At least take a drink of the martini we ordered,” Natalie advised.

That she could do. Dutch courage was always helpful when you never had any of your own. After raising her glass, she clinked it to her sisters’, took a sip and prayed that the nerves dancing in her stomach would settle from a polka to a slow waltz.

“Dad’s letter won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be. Isn’t that right, Rory?”

“Absolutely,” Rory mumbled around a stuffed mushroom. “I felt much better about everything after I read mine.”

Sierra thought of the men in her sisters’ lives. “Chance and Hunter must be annoyed that I stole you away tonight.”

Natalie snorted. “Fat chance. They’re having some kind of a men’s night out. I think gambling is involved.”

“And beer,” Rory said, reaching for a mozzarella stick. “They were quite happy to see the last of us.”

“You guys really hit the jackpot, didn’t you?” Sierra asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Natalie said with a smile.