His expression was one of resignation, but there was a twinkle in his dark eyes that had my pulse suddenly skipping. Once upon a time that twinkle had signified a sexual onslaught—one I'd always been willingly swept away by. "I thought we'd moved past this whole ‘business only' deal with our rather erotic dance and kiss."
That rather erotic dance and kiss had actually been shared with Azriel, who'd taken Jak temporarily out of the picture—and taken on his form—to protect him. But because so many people had seen somebody they thought was Jak with me, I'd asked Azriel to supply him with memories of the evening. I just hadn't expected said memories to be so complete.
"Then you thought wrong, Jak. As I told you on that night, there's nothing left between us and there will be no repeat."
"Nothing left, huh?" His hand whipped out and snared mine. His grin was devilish as I tried—without success—to pull away. "So the racing pulse, and the desire that stirs the air, is nothing more than my imagination?"
"Nothing more," I said, and wished it was. Wished the past would just leave me the hell alone. But then, I'd invited it—and him—back into my life, so I had only myself to blame.
"And if I leaned across the table and kissed you," he said, in a voice so intimate it felt like a caress, "you would feel nothing more than the press of lips against lips?"
My gaze dropped to the lips I'd once known so well, and then I closed my eyes, drew back a foot, and kicked him. Hard. He yelped and released me, and I shifted out of immediate reach.
"Well, it's safe to say that was not the response I was hoping for." His grin was somewhat rueful as he rubbed his shin. "But do not think me defeated. If I breached your defenses once, I can do it again."
"Jak, give it up and just concentrate on business."
"I can't. I love a good challenge."
"Yeah, almost as much as you love a good story, and that's what wrecked our relationship in the first place."
"That is undeniably true." He caught the attention of a passing waitress and ordered a couple of beers. "So, business. I've been asking around about the murders of Frank Logan, his ex, and his secretary, and I'm afraid I'm getting nowhere fast. No one is talking."
"Not surprising, given that everyone who knows anything is ending up dead."
He nodded. "I did discuss Logan's murder with his partners, but other than sussing out who's handling his estate, I wasn't able to get anything helpful, either about Logan or Nadler."
I crossed my arms on the table and leaned forward a little warily. His spicy, woodsmoke scent teased my nostrils, warm and familiar. "Just as well I managed to get something, then, isn't it?"