together and zipped up her pants in record time.
To the casual observer they were two people just making out by a parked car. But the contractors recognized them from inside.
âAinât you two got a room yet?â shouted one.
The other one laughed and made a rude gesture: thumb and forefinger of one hand forming a circle while he poked the index finger of his other hand through it repeatedly.
Dominic ignored them. If he took one step away from Jane, heâd expose her state of disarray.
Finally they got into their trucks and roared away.
Janeâs face burned as if someone had held every inch of it to an industrial sander.
Dominic raked a hand through his hair and released a tense breath. He opened the door for her, andshe slid into the luxury of the Jaguarâs buttery leather seats, beginning immediately to fasten her bra and button her shirt.
Still in a state of confusion, she didnât question the idiosyncrasy of a man who drove an expensive British import but frequented seedy, mangy bars like the Three-Legged Dog.
Dominic got into the car himself, started the engine and began to drive, still sporting quite a stiffie.
Jane sat in heated, embarrassed silence until she noticed that they werenât heading back to her car. âUh, Sayers? Zantyneâs in the complete opposite direction.â
âIâm taking you to dinner.â
Jane absorbed this. âItâs customary to ask a woman if you can take her to dinner before actually doing so. She might object.â
âAre you objecting?â
Of course her stomach chose that precise moment to emit a growl that was half lawn mower, half jungle beast. âUm, not exactly.â
âWell, then, thatâs settled.â
âHas anyone ever told you that youâre a bit high-handed?â
âDarlinâ, better high-handed than underhanded. Donât you agree?â
âThatâs not the point,â she said stiffly. âI didnât agree to aâ¦aâ¦date.â
He stopped for a traffic light, turned toward her and smiled. âAnd yet youâre such a hot one.â
âWhoa,â Jane said. Dom thinks Iâm hot. But shesaid, âI think we just, um, got carried away out there. You really shouldnât talk to me like that.â
âMmm? Well, I donât think you should kiss me or touch me like that if you donât want me to talk to you like that.â
Her cheeks caught fire forâwhat?âthe tenth time that night? But she wasnât giving up. âI didnât actually kiss you. You kissed me.â
âYeah,â he said in a dry voice. âAnd I noticed that you kicked and screamed and broke a chair over my head.â
âIf you were a gentleman, you wouldnât point that out.â
Dom sighed and shook his head. âYou know, weâve had this âgentlemanâ conversation.â
Ooooooh! âYou know what? I donât want to have dinner with you.â
âDo, too.â
âDo not!â
Dominic, blast him, began to laugh. Then he called her âchicken.â
Jane pointed out, with any dignity that she could still scrape together, that she was not a chicken.
âI know,â he said. âBecause youâre coming to dinner with me. Youâre not going to run away from what you felt out there.â
Jane folded her arms across her chest. âI didnât feel a thing, Sayers!â
âLiar,â he said in agreeable tones.
She made a strangled noise.
âWant me to prove it? Pucker up, sweet Jane!â The car swerved dangerously as he leaned toward her.
âNo! Drive. Justâdrive, you lunatic.â
âThatâs better. Now, no more fibbing or Iâll leave you at Maxâs Downtown to wash the dishes after our meal.â
Beyond words, Jane simply clenched her fists and stared out the window. Maxâs? Dom was taking her from the Three-Legged Dog to a four-star restaurant. The
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