With This Fling. Jeanie London

had taken a hike, but Rachel hadn’t gotten her walking papers yet. As soon as she did, Anthony would be knocking on Harley’s door again. As always, she’d welcome him. He’d taught her an orgasm was the best cure-all for whatever ailed her, and she could use a good one right now. She had termites, a shot transmission…and Mac Gerard in hot pursuit.

      What a week!

      Brushing hairs away from her forehead, Anthony smiled down at her. “Let’s tackle one problem at a time here, princess.”

      “Transmission.”

      “Done deal.”

      “I don’t have the money for the parts.” She barely had the money for her next meal, but she wouldn’t tell him that. School loans had strapped her finances tight for too long, but once she’d bought the house… “I’m having heart palpitations about what the exterminator and contractor are going to say.”

      “No problem. I’ll cover the parts, but it’s going to take me about a week to get them. My suppliers put me on C.O.D. ever since the move. They want their cash up front until they’re sure I won’t crash and burn the business.”

      He didn’t have to say another word for Harley to know he was offended. He’d been doing business with his suppliers for nearly ten years. She also knew it was the first of the month, and since he’d only made his third mortgage payment on this high-square-footage property, his cash must be really tight.

      “Is everything all right?” She set her coffee cup on the desk. “Are your mom and Damon doing okay?”

      “I covered Damon’s share of the mortgage again this month.”

      She’d figured that would happen. Anthony DiLeo Automotive comprised one third—albeit the largest third—of what had become a DiLeo compound. Anthony had bought the huge property, then renovated the space into his new garage, his mother’s new hair salon and his brother’s new dojo.

      Until Damon got his martial arts studio off the ground and built up his client base… “I can put in a plug with Josh. Maybe he’ll consider moving Eastman Investigations. The place we’re training in now is a dive.”

      Anthony smiled, one of those blinding, white-toothed grins that had been taking her breath away forever. “That’d help. I’m going down to talk to the bank about modifying the mortgage now that the rates have dropped again. Until then, I’m screwed. Next to nobody pays cash and the credit card companies hold up my money for six weeks. But the banks cover the debit transactions every week, so I’ll get your transmission then. Okay?”

      She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

      Anthony reached for his coffee, looking satisfied. He always liked when she fed his ego—a full-time job even when he wasn’t saving her ass.

      “Well, that’s one problem off my back, thank you very much,” she said. “Now I have to figure out how I’m getting around. What’s your loaner situation?”

      “Not good. I’m taking on twice the business with only two spare vehicles.”

      “What are my chances of talking you out of the Firebird?”

      “How about the chopper? I’m on Mama detail this week. We’ve got a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, a casino cruise Friday night and a wedding on Saturday.”

      Harley was genuinely flattered that Anthony trusted her to drive his pride and joy. “Are you sure? Would you rather let Damon borrow the chopper? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind lending me his car. He barely leaves the dojo anyway.”

      “Damon is not driving the chopper.” He leaned across the desk to slide open a drawer. “I’ll only trust you, princess.”

      “You’ll kill me if I ding the paint.”

      He scooped the keys from a drawer and held them out to her, catching her gaze above his hand. “Then don’t ding the paint.”

      She plucked the keys from his fingers and smiled.

      Looked like her day had finally taken a turn for the better. Now if her luck just held through the afternoon…

      3

      MAC USUALLY ENJOYED an occasional night gambling at Harrah’s. It was a new pastime in his repertoire, one that Josh had introduced him to. Josh had also been the one to insist they drop by the casino tonight, after returning to the office after-hours to find Mac still working.

      While Mac appreciated the attempt to take his mind off the case, he finally left Josh in the Blue Dog Poker Room to walk off his restlessness in the fantasy world that made up Harrah’s. His head was cluttered with questions about how best to recover the stolen items and he was struggling to think clearly while suffering a bad case of Harley on the brain.

      So he wandered beneath the starry sky in the jazz court and tried to distract himself when the dueling pianos played music that reminded him of how good she’d felt in his arms when they’d danced at the wedding.

      He finally made his way to the VIP lounge to get away from the music. Flashing his ID, he greeted the doorman, then stepped inside to savor the quiet…and find the very woman who’d been haunting his thoughts as if she’d materialized straight from his imagination.

      Harley.

      She sat alone, contemplating the drink she held with both hands. Gone was her requisite black—she’d dressed in cream leather, a formfitting pantsuit that molded her slim curves.

      She presented him an unfamiliar opportunity to observe her without having to think on his feet or dodge physical blows. He simply admired the way the color emphasized her skin, how her delicate profile peeked through the tumble of red hair.

      She seemed different tonight. Something more than the wardrobe change. Then he recognized what that difference was. Though Mac hadn’t made the connection before, hadn’t realized she functioned with shields up against the world, he suddenly understood now, when those shields were so noticeably absent.

      Something about the slump of her shoulders. And the way she’d hooked her feet around the chair legs to lean forward, as if she needed the table to support her. She seemed somehow unguarded, all alone in the world.

      This was Harley uncensored. The Harley he needed to seduce. They were making each other crazy with this unrequited lust and he didn’t understand why she couldn’t see that, why she fought him so hard. All they needed to do was satisfy their hunger and go their separate ways. It was simple. Inevitable.

      Mac didn’t hesitate. Covering the distance, he slid into the chair across from her. She snapped her head up and blinked those deep blue eyes.

      “You’re not seeing things, Harley. It’s me.”

      She brought a shaky hand to her forehead. “I’m in hell.”

      “No, you’re in Harrah’s.”

      “No, you’re here. I’m in hell.” She dropped her face into her outspread hands and Mac thought he saw her shudder.

      That was his second clue that all was not business as usual. The first had been her reaction to him—normally after she’d made the nasty comment, she would have taken off and left him to chase after her.

      “Is everything all right?”

      “Why are you here?” Her voice was muffled behind her hands.

      “I came with Josh.”

      That got her attention, and she lifted her head. “Josh is here, in the casino?”

      Mac nodded but he didn’t get a chance to gauge her reaction, because she slid the chair back and got to her feet, treating him to a head-to-toe view of slim curves enveloped in leather.

      That sensation clenched low in his gut again as he took in those curves, so beautifully