“Cheer up, bro,” Mercy told him, grinning, “you’re about to have an induction.”
“The club for people who kiss your ass?”
“Hey, Fox kisses no one’s ass.”
“True,” the Englishman said.
“Your induction into man-work, junior. Why the hell do you think Candy wanted you in Amarillo? To get stuff off the tall shelves?”
Colin’s frown deepened, and something flickered in his eyes, a fast snatch of something Mercy might have missed had he not been paying attention.
“What?” he asked.
Fox said, “Our Col here has designs on Jenny.”
Mercy didn’t know whether he ought to laugh or punch the guy again. “Jenny Snow?” he asked with a disbelieving fake smile. “Really?”
“I think she might have designs on him, too,” Fox continued.
“Well damn. I’ll be.”
Colin shifted uncomfortably.
“Grab your apron,” Mercy said, pointing toward the clear plastic number he’d laid out. “And step into my laboratory.”
~*~
“Howdy, Miss Jasmine.”
Jazz knew that voice, with its heavy Texas accent. She knew it, and had found such pleasure in it – in the man that came with it, big and blonde and insatiable. But now, it crawled up the back of her neck like a chill, and left her shivering inside.
She never would have expected this of herself, but it was happening, ever since that night that Aidan had tried to strangle her. He’d apologized, sure, and she’d moved on…but she could find no appeal in her normal sexual exploits. She went cold and frightened just at the thought.
She pinned a frozen smile to her face and turned to face the Texas VP. “Mr. Candyman,” she returned. “How’ve you been?” Ordinarily, she would have passed her hands up his rock hard chest as she delivered her line. But now she kept her arms stiff at her sides.
His grin was truly dazzling, as was the way he braced a tan forearm on the doorframe above her head and leaned in, pinning her against the kitchen jamb. “A whole lot better now that I’ve laid eyes on you, darlin’. What’re you supposed to be anyway?” His eyes traveled down her body, and his finger touched the little hollow in her throat, trailed downward.
“A nurse,” she said, and couldn’t believe the way her heart was hammering. What big hands he had. Hands bigger than Aidan’s; hands that could choke –
“A naughty nurse,” he said with a deep chuckle, fingertip flirting with the plunging white neckline of her costume. Before she could say anything, he slipped his whole big hand into her uniform and palmed her naked breast.
She gasped, and he misread it.
“Did you miss me?” he whispered, breath stirring her hair as he got even closer. His fingers tightened, digging into her flesh. “I’ve been dreaming about these, sweetheart. You gonna let me see in a minute?”
She dampened her lips. “I…”
“Hey,” a voice said just behind Candy.
She knew that voice too: Carter.
Candyman pulled back a fraction, but his hand stayed in her top as he turned his head slowly, with put-on boredom, toward the younger member.
Jazz bit her lip in surprise when she caught sight of Carter’s face. He looked absolutely murderous. While that wasn’t much of a threat to someone as big as Candy, it was still impressive in its own right, his level of aggression.
“Can I help you with something?” Candy asked.
Carter kicked his chin up, bold and stupid and wonderfully brave, Jazz thought. “Don’t mess with Jasmine tonight.”
