"Those shoes must be killing you," Griffin said with another encouraging smile. "Though they're sexy as hell."
The compliment took her ire down a tick, so she made her way to the place beside him. Once she sank onto the seat, he reached for one shoe and brought it to his lap. His fingers found the zipper tab at the heel of the sandal and tugged it down. "Very sexy," he murmured, slipping it off.
He left that foot on his hard thigh and bent for the other. With the same tender care, he removed the shoe. With one big hand draped over the tops of her feet, he reached for a handful of tissues that he then offered to her, the odd expression back on his face. "Go ahead, honey-pie. It was my fault we were there tonight. I guess it's fair that you cry on my shoulder."
Cry on his shoulder? The tissues slipped from her hand as Jane stared at him. Then the pieces came together - his tender consideration, his careful movements, that look on his face that was part kindness, part resignation and part pity. For a moment she went speechless, then her anger started to boil again.
"You think I still care about that...that..."
"Norm Scrogman?" Griffin suggested.
How Griffin knew Ian's real name, she couldn't say. But it was as good a pejorative as any. "I despise him."
"Sure you do."
He didn't believe her. Jane slid her feet from his lap and gave him the evil eye. "Listen to me. The man is a selfish, egotistical, unabashed and unashamed user."
Maybe he mistook her tight voice for a tear-clogged throat. He picked up the tissue box and pressed it into her hands. "Go ahead. Get it all out."
She threw the cardboard carton at him. He ducked, and it bounced off the cushion and fell to the floor. "Hey!" he protested.
"Just be glad I'm not holding the letter opener," she said. "Don't you get it? I won't cry over that man. Any man." Ever again.
"Still, you're shaking."
"From rage. Do you know what he did to me?"
"I'm pretty curious now, I must admit."
Jane swiped up her wineglass and took a healthy swallow. Griffin, his gaze still wary, reached for his own beverage. "Let's agree not to throw anything else, okay?"
"I'm just so mad!" Jane declared. "Seeing him again brought it all back. I feel as if I've swallowed a balloon and it's inflating inside me."
He made a go-ahead gesture with his glass. "Then by all means let out some of the pressure, Jane. Though I find the idea of you exploding...uh, never mind."
More heat shot over her skin and she glared at him. "Did you have to bring that up now?"
"I probably shouldn't," he admitted. "It's just that you're kind of red-faced and your breath is coming too fast and - "
He broke off as she half cocked her wineglass. " - and I'm going to be very quiet now and let you get your feelings off your chest - " his glance dropped to her heaving breasts and then jerked back to her face " - I mean off your, um, mind."
Her gaze narrowed on him. "I think you're trying to distract me. Tease me out of my temper."
"A little. Is it working?"
His semihopeful and too-charming smile didn't move her. "No. Because that means you're still feeling sorry for me."
"Shouldn't I? Apparently the two of you had something going, some sort of...understanding and then he was a jerk to you."
"Jerk doesn't cover it," she muttered. "Have you ever read one of his books?"
"Not really my thing. I was on a plane or two when the movie adaptations played, but though I usually slept or read through them, I caught the gist." Griffin looked down at his drink, then back up. "I admit I heard Skye mention his name, so I checked out his website. I read some reviews of his books."
Jane tilted her head. "What'd you think?"
"That you might have guessed your association wasn't going to be happy-ever-after when the romantic relationship in every one of his novels ends in death by lingering disease or natural disaster."
Despite herself, Jane laughed. "Now I feel an even bigger fool."
He frowned. "I didn't mean to rub salt in the wound."
"You're not listening. I'm past being wounded when it comes to Ian." She took another swallow of wine. "He called me his muse, you know. In print."