See Jane Fall by Katy Regnery Page B

his eyes off the road.
    Interesting. Okay. Maybe I deserve that
after this morning’s cold front.
    “Those wise-ass New York chicks are often
under untold pressure, you know.”
    “You forgot cute. I said cute ,
wise—”
    “I didn’t forget anything.”
    “You know you’re cute, right,
Jane?”
    “You don’t have to say that.”
    “I wouldn’t if it wasn’t true.”
    “All part of the service.”
    “Nope, that’s my personal opinion.”
    Jane had had just about enough. “You don’t
have to do that.” An edge crept into her tone.
    He pulled over to the side of the road, put
the car in park and cut the engine, looking at her. “I don’t have
to do what?”
    “You don’t need to butter me up. You don’t
need to flatter me. I’m the assistant. Let me school you here, Professor… I’m the girl that’s the friend , Lars. I’m
the girl you talk to about the girl you’re going out with on
Friday night. I’m the girl who tells you which restaurant to take
her to and what kind of wine she hopes you’ll order. I’ll even come
over beforehand and help you pick out what shirt to wear, and if
you forget your wallet while you’re out with her, I’ll jimmy your
bedroom window open, find it in the pants you wore yesterday and
drive it over to the restaurant. And when I hand it to you, she’ll
look at me like I’m nothing…and—”
    “Jane.”
    “What?”
    “Stop talking.” In an instant he had
unsnapped his seatbelt, unsnapped hers, slipped one arm around her
waist and pulled her across the seat next to him.
    He placed his hands on either side of her
face and before she could completely get her head around what was
about to happen, she felt his lips brush gently, but firmly, across
hers.
    Her eyes closed, tearing up from the
unexpected sweetness of his reassurance, and as her lips opened in
surprise, she kissed him back. His fingers played with her curls,
tilting her face exactly how he wanted it, moving his lips with
more urgency.
    She lowered her hands to rest her knuckles
on his thighs, and he moved his hands from her face down her arms
to her hips where she felt his fingers curl into fists along the
waistband of her jeans as the kiss deepened, as he slipped his
tongue into her mouth and pulled her closer to him. His tongue
plunged deeper, satiny and stroking, making her dizzy from the
contact, her breathing fast and fierce as her palms pushed down on
the iron muscles of his thighs.
    Her heart pounded, her head was spinning,
her insides a swirling mess of longing and warning, feuding in the
overwhelmed territory between her head and her heart. She felt his
fingers graze the skin of her waist under her shirt, which made
goose bumps rise all over her body, somehow prompting her back to
reality.
    “Wait.” Jane drew back, panting. She didn’t
dare look into his eyes, staring at her hands on his leg instead,
listening to the sound of her breathing, which was amplified in her
ears, heavy and ragged.
    She unfurled her fingers and reached up to
touch the tender, hot skin of her lips with a tentative caress,
finally looking up at Lars. He was watching her, searching her face
with a frank, unapologetic, unwavering gaze. She read it quickly:
Hungry for more, but happy with what he’d just gotten.
    He released her hips and smiled, reaching up
to push an errant curl back from her forehead before leaning back
into his seat. “You’ve got it all wrong, Jane Mays.”
    No. You’ve got it all wrong, Lars
Lindstrom. You haven’t met Samara yet. You don’t know what I
know. She stared at him, unsmiling, conflicted between her
growing feelings for him and the pain of loss she’d feel later.
    “It is what it is, Minx. Sometimes it just
sneaks up on you.”
    “What does that mean?”
    He leaned over her to pull her seatbelt back
over her chest and she felt his breath hot against her cheek. She
closed her eyes, longing pooling again in her belly and making her
heart race.
    “It means…you’re