Tall, Dark and Filthy Rich. Jill Monroe

her breath would hitch, reminding her why’d she been idiot enough to attend this dance.

      Then Cole had walked toward her.

      He’d asked her to dance. With a nod, she’d joined him on the floor, her heart beating so loudly it overpowered the music. The song pounding from the speakers changed to something slow and seductive, and Cole drew her closer. She took a deep breath. Memorized the smell of him. He’d worn cologne that night. It reminded her of the woods, but didn’t mask the scents she associated with him. Leather from his jacket. Or the harsh soap he used to clean his greasy hands after working in the garage.

      She’d closed her eyes as she settled her forehead on his chest. Jessie vowed she’d dance this one song and leave. She knew this was a pity dance. Cole was trying to save her from the embarrassment of not having been asked out onto the floor even once. But she didn’t care. She would have taken Cole any way she could have got him.

      Cole Crawford had tried to save her back then. As he was doing now, by infiltrating this gang of female coworkers and helping to pull her out of a potentially awkward situation. How sweet. But Jessie was more than capable of saving herself. In fact, Cole should be concerned about saving himself. From her.

      She flashed him a smile, and his steps slowed for half a beat. She made sure her lips didn’t turn up in satisfaction. Cole might not be so immune to her as he’d been in high school. “Your colleagues were inviting me to join you for your Thursday night out. Club Octane good for you?”

      Cole shuddered. Ah, the ladies were setting her up to make him uncomfortable, Jessie realized. Excellent. She’d play along. “So what’s wrong with Club Octane?”

      “Two words. ‘Dancing Queen.’”

      Eve and Jane laughed, but Jessie was still confused. “I don’t get it.”

      “The probability of me having to dance to an ABBA song is perilously high at Octane. I’ve never met a woman who wouldn’t dance to that song, and try to drag me onto the floor with her. Not going to happen.”

      Eve draped her arm around Cole’s shoulders. “You see, according to the Atlanta Daily News, Cole here has his finger on the pulse of what women want. So like any man…he’s not going to give it to them. No dancing.”

      Jane shook her head sadly. “Ever since that article came out, it’s been only sports bars.”

      Cole raised an eyebrow. “It hasn’t been all bad for you.”

      She nodded. “True, I actually participated in the fantasy-sports league. Won an HDTV Big Screen with surround sound.”

      “You never saw so many grown men crying in their beer,” Cole said dryly.

      Jessie laughed. She loved it. The camaraderie. The teasing. She’d missed that since she’d left the force. Hadn’t even realized she had until now. Maybe that was because—

      Stop. She wasn’t going to do this. She wasn’t searching for inner reasons.

      “I’m going to call Perry and see if he wants to join us at Latitude 33. I’ll meet you there,” Jane said with a wave.

      “Good idea. I’ll call Mitchell, and invite Nicole.”

      And that left Jessie and Cole alone together.

      “Perry and Jane live together, and Mitchell is Eve’s boyfriend,” Cole told her.

      “Ah,” Jessie said with a nod.

      The smile faded from his eyes as Cole faced her. “Thanks, Jessie. You really came through for us today. But then you always come through, don’t you?”

      The light atmosphere disappeared instantly. Jessie’s jaw almost dropped. Could he actually be referring to that fateful night that nearly killed him and sent her to her father for help? Here? In the impersonal beige hallways of some TV station?

      No, she was inferring way too much. Jessie gave a light laugh, wanting to lighten the mood. “Yes, well, I can see all that Latin Ablative Absolute work we did has really paid off in the work force.”

      Cole’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled. “I don’t even remember what that is.”

      “I just remember it was hard.” Did she want to steer the conversation back to the questions she always wanted to ask? No, she could enjoy her visit down memory lane to a point, but there were memories she didn’t want to relive. Cole leaving her without a word was one of them.

      No, better to keep it light. She glanced at the banks of TV monitors. All on different channels. It felt surreal. Uncomfortable. Jessie nodded her head toward the row of screens. “It’s strange, but I feel I’m being watched.”

      “It’s a TV station. You can’t escape it. But I know what you mean. If you’re ready, I’ll walk you to the restaurant. It’s only a block from the studio.”

      That was the nice thing about the midtown area of Atlanta. Places to eat, shop, live and work were all within easy walking distance.

      Cole led her to the reception area. With a wave to the security guard chatting to the receptionist, they emerged onto the sidewalk. Jessie blinked as the late afternoon sun hit her eyes, and she rummaged in her purse for sunglasses. With her odd schedule, she’d become a creature of the night, and bright sunlight really bothered her.

      The click of her boot heels on the pavement was the only sound for a while. The weather was still mild for this time of year in Georgia, and Jessie took a moment to enjoy it—the warmth of her skin, the sun on her hair. Days like this were few and far between.

      Cole reached for her hand and drew her into the shade and out of the way of foot traffic. He’d donned his own sunglasses, but the set of his lips was stern.

      “I know you were cornered in there. You don’t have to go. I’ll call Eve’s cell right now and—”

      Jessie placed a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles tighten beneath her fingertips. “No, it’s okay. I think it will be a lot of fun.”

      His expression grew dubious. “You realize they are going to grill you.”

      She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and gave him a wink. “Actually, I promised them a lot of dirt. Yours.”

      His shoulders stiffened. “Then maybe we should talk about this. There are…events I don’t discuss with any…”

      As his words trailed off, the tension ramped up between them. Jessie swallowed. Hard. She knew exactly what things, what events Cole was referring to.

      She returned her hand to Cole’s arm. “It’s okay. I’m not going to talk about events.” She’d be thrilled to never think about what had happened that night. Ever. “Some stories are best left in the past,” she said, hoping her voice was reassuring.

      His eyes met hers. Searched hers. Jessie forced out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, those ladies want the kind of dirt they can tease you about. Something embarrassing from high school. Like falling out of your seat in second period or getting caught passing notes in class. Maybe I should tell them you actually wore pajamas on pajama school spirit day.” Which had never happened.

      His shoulders relaxed and his upper lip lifted in a half smile. “I don’t think they’d believe you.”

      “I don’t think they would, either.”

      The heat of his gaze faded, and his eyes turned hazel once more. He shifted his shoulders, and his body language became neutral. The barrier had returned. There was a detachment about Cole. There always had been. Oh, he was more at ease around people now, his “hands off” attitude more toned down. But it still lingered. That was probably why the women in his office took so much pleasure in teasing him. That article gave them the right tool to find a chink in his heavy emotional armor.

      Jessie didn’t like barriers. Not anymore. They could hurt people. Her line of work was all about