Courting Justice

She leaned over closer toward him. “Look, this is Peyton and not some woman you feel you have to impress. Not sure what’s going on with you but—”

“What do you mean you’re not sure what’s going on with me?” he asked, before taking a sip of his water.

She shrugged. “I think you feel that by being here you need to practice your player lines. You’re trying to steer clear of Lela, and you think I’m safe. Good old safe and reliable Peyton Mahoney.”

He set his glass down and leaned back in his chair. “Is that what you think?”

She decided to come clean. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. But I believe whatever is going on here started with that kiss last night.”

A smooth smile touched his lips. “No, it all started when you said you wanted me to remember you weren’t Sam.”

His words should have kick-started her memory of last night and what she’d said but they didn’t. “I don’t understand.”

“And you have no idea what that kiss was all about?”

She frowned, trying to recall if there was any part of last night she had forgotten. She swallowed deeply before saying, “Please tell me that in my delirious state I didn’t come on to you or something.”

He chuckled. “Or something?”

She frowned at him. “You know what I mean.”

He placed his menu back on the table. “No, you didn’t come on to me, but evidently you think I came on to you.”

No, she really didn’t think that. But they had shared a kiss, and she needed to know why. “I really don’t know what to think,” she said, deliberately keeping her voice low when she saw one of the groups of women from the elevator walking in and taking a table not far away. They gave her a surprised look, as if it was hard to believe someone who looked like Angelo would be spending time with her. She might not be all dolled up like they were, but she didn’t look bad.

She glanced back over at Angelo and a thought suddenly entered her mind. Maybe the kiss hadn’t been all that hot and heavy like she assumed it had been. Maybe it was nothing more than a brotherly peck, and she had dreamt that it was something else.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, Peyton?”

Pretty little head? Boy, he was full of compliments today. She held up her hand to cut off any further words from him. “Let’s just forget it.”

“Forget what? The kiss, or your thinking that I have ulterior motives for complimenting you?”

“Doesn’t matter. Have you forgotten about Lela Stillwell and what you asked me to do?”

“No.”

“Okay, then,” she said, deciding that now they were finally getting somewhere.

“Will you do it?”

Peyton hesitated. She was certain she had fully slept off her hangover, so why had her head begun spinning again? She wondered if she should let Angelo know he was practically making her dizzy. “I’ve given it some thought.”

“But you haven’t made up your mind.”

Actually, she had. She wouldn’t do it since she wasn’t sure if she could keep her infatuation with him from resurfacing. It had been bad enough two years ago when he’d stayed at her place those few days. She had told him to make himself comfortable and feel right at home. He’d done just that. He had thought nothing of walking around shirtless and letting her see him in just his pajama bottoms.

“Actually, I have. I don’t think doing something like that will work. Who in their right mind would believe we have something going on?”

He glanced over at her, seeming surprised that she would say such a thing. “Why wouldn’t they?”

She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, nobody would think of us as a couple.”

“I disagree.” He glanced around the café. “There’s not a woman in here who I could imagine myself with besides you.”

Following his gaze she glanced around the room, too, studying the various groups of women. Not surprisingly, the majority of them were staring right back at them. They were probably wondering why he was sitting with her instead of them.

She returned her gaze to Angelo and her heart rate increased when she saw he was staring intently at her. “Not that I think I’m chopped liver or anything, but look at them.”

“I did.”

“And what do you see?”

“Women—plenty of them with their faces made up, their hair in place and their nails done. And every last one of them with I’ll-eat-you-alive-if-given-the-chance looks on their faces,” he said.

She lifted a brow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“For me it is. I told you why I’m here. And the thought that anyone wouldn’t think we’re a couple is simply crazy. You are better for me than any other woman in this room, hands down.”

Was that irritation she heard in his voice? She fought back a laugh that he would waste his time being annoyed at such a thing. “Hands down, huh?” she said, deciding to make light of their conversation.

He leaned in closer and the look in his eyes told her he wasn’t making polite conversation. “So what do you think, Peyton?”

If he thought he had answered all her questions, she had news for him. “Why me, Angelo?”

Their gazes held, and the look in his eyes had her heart pumping like crazy. She bit her bottom lip, feeling a sudden flutter in the pit of her stomach. For whatever reason, it appeared he was still annoyed with her.

“You’ve known me longer than anyone here, so I can trust you,” he finally said. “With you I don’t have to worry about your interest in me being purely financial or because of my newfound fame.”

His words were actually a compliment—kind of. And she couldn’t help the sensation that made her chest swell or the undercurrents that were making the tips of her nipples harden under her blouse. “I thought men who weren’t serious about women didn’t care one way or the other, as long as they were on top of their game.”

He shrugged his massive shoulders. “Maybe for some, but I’ve outgrown that.”

She waved off his words. “Whatever.”

“You don’t believe me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Angelo? No. But does it matter what I believe?”

He was spared from answering when the waitress came to take their order. Just as well, Peyton thought. He had told her more than enough fairy tales today anyway.

* * *

Angelo shifted in his chair thinking that every muscle in his body was feeling Peyton’s presence. Conversation for them had ceased for the moment while they enjoyed their meal.

She had ordered a lot, and he was surprised she ate it all. Since he’d eaten breakfast and lunch, all he wanted was something light and decided a bowl of soup would be enough, or so he’d thought. But more than once he swiped a French fry off her plate.

He slowly chewed on the fry thinking he could feel the connection between them even if she couldn’t. Did she even sense what was taking place? Had she caught on that he was laying the groundwork for what was to come? What would eventually happen between them?