She cursed herself for a fool as she silently struggled against the pull he had on her. The struggle was a dismal failure. Her nipples hardened to thrust against her bra, and she crossed her legs tighter, but it did nothing to stop the empty ache that throbbed between her thighs. She could feel herself growing wet, the folds of her sex swelling. Sucking in a deep breath to try to calm her racing heart and slow her erratic breathing, she only managed to draw in his scent over the fumes of salon chemicals. The hot, masculine smell of him was so familiar, even after all this time, and the realization sent a harsh pang through her.
His fingertips moved down to work the tension out of her neck, and she swallowed a moan. Her body softened for him, some muscles loosening while others tightened to ready her for sex. Helpless anger roared within her, and she pinched her eyes closed in denial of one simple truth. If he ever tried to seduce her, she was fucked. In every possible way.
Just like she had been so long ago.
He leaned forward to grab a pair of scissors off of the counter in front of the chair and his lips brushed her ear. «Think of it this way, Celia being gone gives us a week to formulate a game plan.»
The last thing she wanted was to spend time with him, but the faster they got Mason and Celia together, the faster she could escape from Cedarville. And him. «Fine.»
«Dinner tonight? To discuss plans?» His scent filled her lungs, and the need within her twisted tighter. Damn fate for doing this to her, for shoving her back into contact with the last man in the world she wanted to see. Ever.
«I'll meet you next door.» A little diner occupied the space next to the hair salon. It had good food and, more importantly, booths that offered enough privacy for them to talk without being overheard. Anyone who listened in would think they were batshit nutty anyway, but it was best not to draw attention to themselves. Humans just wouldn't understand. Back when she'd been a human, she wouldn't have understood either, so she couldn't blame them.
His hands began expertly snipping away at her hair, trimming the ends and letting them flutter in tufts to the floor. She'd bet her afterlife he'd never cut hair before. That was how things worked as a Guardian. If you needed a skill for an assignment, it just came to you. If you wanted to look a certain way, you just did. There were no wings, no halo, no white light, no awe-inspiring powers. Maybe because the human-born angels were the lowest rung on the celestial corporate ladder, but maybe not. They didn't even have a superior they answered to-they were merely compelled to do the jobs they did. They woke up one day, their heads filled with the assignment at hand. And then they went to work. There was no fighting it, no trying to get out, no rebellion. This was what they'd been called upon to do, and they'd do it until they failed to get it right. End of story.
«All right, that should do it.» He brushed a few stray strands off the cape. His silver eyes met hers briefly in the mirror, and awareness she didn't want to feel tingled down her spine. «I get off at seven.»
The words get off falling from his lips did nothing to calm her rabbiting heartbeat. «Until seven, then.»
Jericho was waiting for her when she arrived at the restaurant, his big body dominating one of the tall wooden booths in the back. His long fingers toyed idly with the silverware in front of him.
«Mrs. Chambers, it's good to see you!» One of the waitresses offered a big smile as Tori stepped in from the door.
«Thanks, Lindsay. How's your mom doing?» The girl's mother had recently broken up with her boyfriend, and as the resident town gossip, it was Tori's job to make sure everyone knew she knew their business. This definitely wasn't a position she'd have wanted for a whole year. She felt twinges of guilt whenever she spread people's news around, but she had to keep up her cover.
«Mom's doing okay. I guess.»
Lindsay's smile wobbled a bit and Tori gave her arm a comforting pat. «It'll all turn out all right. You mark my words, young lady.»
«Thanks, Mrs. Chambers.» The girl pulled in a big breath and her grin became more genuine. «Where would you like to sit?»
«Oh, I'm meeting a friend for dinner.» Tori glanced up and found Jericho's sharp gaze pinned to her, taking in the exchange between the two women. She cleared her throat and tilted her head towards his booth. «Bring us both the special and some coffee, would you?»
«Sure thing, Mrs. Chambers.» Lindsay moved to obey while Tori approached the booth, sliding onto the bench opposite her worst mistake.
«Vitoria,» he said in greeting.
«It's just Tori now.» Unlike him, she'd done everything in her power to ditch her accent, her old identity. The rolling Spanish inflection had made her stand out in the United States when she'd needed to blend in. She rarely spoke her native tongue anymore-not unless an assignment called for it. Her job was her life now. She didn't need to be a beautiful, accomplished young lady any longer. There was no rich, doting husband to attract, no parties to host at her older brother's hacienda. A pang of longing went through her. She missed Enrique so much-her only family after their parents had passed away. They'd been devoted to each other, so much so that she'd insisted on accompanying him in 1836 when he rode with Santa Anna from Mexico to fight against the rebellious American settlers in Texas.
Rebellious settlers like Jericho.
So long ago, and yet she recalled every detail of that time as if it had been branded into her mind.
Lindsay glided up carrying a big tray, lowering it to the tabletop to transfer over the plates of steaming food and big mugs of coffee. Tori smiled at her. «Thanks, Lindsay.»
«No problem. Flag me down if you need anything else.»
«We won't need anything else,» Jericho replied with a quick grin before switching his gaze to the other side of the booth. Again, Tori felt pinned by the intensity that burned there. After this many years of living, she'd have thought some of his intensity would have lessened, but not so much.
To cover her uneasiness, she picked up her coffee and let the cup hide her face as she took a deep draught. Ah, caffeine. It wouldn't help at all in settling her jangling nerves, but she loved the stuff, so who cared? «So…Mason and Celia.»
«Yeah.» He picked up the fork he'd been playing with when she came in and applied himself to his food with gusto. «Those two aren't going to make this easy. The last year of failed attempts is just going to make it harder to get them to break down and actually trust each other.»
«Yeah, trust. It's a fickle thing.» If there was a bite of irony to her voice, she didn't bother to cover it. She'd trusted him, and he'd betrayed her. Discussing how to help him make a woman trust anyone was like twisting the knife that had been parked squarely between her shoulder blades for over a hundred years. Not that she was bitter. Much.
His gaze cut to her, so she busied herself with her own dinner. He took a sip of his coffee, and she could feel his gaze on her, willing her to look at him, to make that connection, but she refused to give him what he wanted. They had a job to do. The personal shit between them could stay good and buried for all she cared. She was never going there again with him. His fingers tapped a light tattoo on the table. «We have to make this work. The last angel may have failed these people, but I'm not going to.»
«Neither am I.» She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. «I have never failed a client before and I don't intend to start now.»
What they didn't say was that neither of them knew what happened if an angel failed. They were just…gone, replaced. Where they went was something no Guardian knew. Tori didn't guess anyone who'd failed got a promotion, but she didn't want to find out if the other option was a downward spiral to the hot spot. Some mysteries she'd learned not to wonder about. It was safer that way.