Chapter Two

Jon sat in the back seat and smiled. He had been actually waving his driver ahead to come pick him up, but when he heard the voice of the cabbie, he suddenly found himself making other plans. How could he resist that sexy, sultry voice? Surely it was out of place here in this taxi. He was pleased by the way she asked if he wanted to chat or not. All too often, people just started talking to him once they saw who he was, and he honestly didn’t give a rat’s ass about what most of them had to say.

The cabbie had no clue who he was until he took of his meager disguise. When she finally figured it out her reaction made him laugh. He never got tired of surprising people, and he was grateful she didn’t gush or fawn all over him. That kind of thing got old really quick. Judging by her response, she seemed like she could be fun, and since it was going to be a long ride, he may as well try to amuse himself.

Her slight accent intrigued him. It was soft and melodious, but not one he recognized. Her beautiful deep azure eyes kept meeting his softer blue in the rearview mirror. Seems she was checking him out. He chuckled, returning the favor as best he could from his position in the back seat. He scooted forward to lean his forearms on the passenger-side seatback, and looked his fill.

High cheekbones accented a sun-kissed face. This girl enjoyed being outdoors. Her jet-black hair was shoved under a baseball cap, but tendrils had escaped the hat and were clinging to her neck. Long lashes framed beautiful, wide eyes, and when she caught him looking at her, she smiled. Her whole face lit up when she did that.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“Waiting for an answer to my question, darlin’,” he answered, staring intently at her.

Sieta sighed. “Hope you don’t mind waiting, then,” she said.

Jon chuckled again. “Darlin’, I am not a patient man, but I have a feeling you are worth waiting for.” He reached out to unstick one of the tendrils from her neck, and she flinched and batted his hand away. Her skin was soft, Jon noted in that brief instant of contact.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, full of indignation.

“Just trying to make you more comfortable,” Jon said, backing off. “It looks like that hair stuck to your neck must itch something awful.”

Sieta laughed. Well, shit, now it did. With a grunt of impatience and a sidelong glance at her passenger, she raised her knee to the steering wheel, removed her hat, and used both hands to wind her thick, long hair back up and tucked it under her hat again.

“Shit,” Jon said, hanging onto the Jesus-strap in the back. “Keep your hands on the wheel!” His mouth ran dry at the glimpse of that luxurious hair. He fleetingly wondered what it would feel like draped across his chest,

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Sieta countered.

“Answer my question and I just might,” he said, and reached for her again.

Sieta ducked away and laughed a low, throaty laugh. “Now, don’t make me mace you,” she said. “It would hurt those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

Jon snatched his hand back and put on a mask of horror. “You wouldn’t dare,” he said.

“Wanna bet?” she answered, and reached into her pocket. There wasn’t anything in there but lint, but he didn’t know that.