The Family Jewels by Christine Bell Page B

even sure why I would want that to happen. Sounds painful."
    "You know what I mean. The ladies probably fall all over themselves to get a bit o’ the old Callahan Irish salami, am I right?"
    He didn't deny it but she wasn't sure if that was because his shoulders were shaking with laughter or because she was right.
    “There’s no such thing as Irish salami,” he corrected her with a wink.
    “Well that’s a damn shame, isn’t it?” She pressed her cheek against the cool leather again realizing the smell reminded her a little of Jake himself and she burrowed closer. “Do I have eggs?" she murmured, scrunching her face in hopes of jogging her memory.
    "Eggs?” He shook his head slowly. “Right now, you mean?"
    "Don't be ridiculous. Who brings eggs to a bar? I mean, do I have eggs in my fridge .” She enunciated carefully since he was clearly not on the ball tonight. “At my apartment ."
    "I couldn't say," he responded, humor still lacing his tone.
    "I bet I have eggs.” She realized belatedly that she'd said it in a stage whisper and had added a double wink in case he didn't catch her drift.
    Was she seriously propositioning him? When was the last time she'd done something just for the sheer pleasure of it? Sure, she ate the occasional slice of cheesecake, or spent a lazy day window shopping on Fifth Avenue without buying, but really indulging? Doing something for the sheer pleasure of it, without an eye to the consequences? It had been a long time.
    And something told her that Jake Callahan would be so worth it.
    She was already sure to regret the fifth --or was it sixth?-- Manhattan she’d drank, anyway. If she was doomed to a morning of regrets, why not add another to the list?
    She sat up, and repeated her offer, being extra careful not to slur her words this time in case he thought she was too drunk to make life decisions.
    “What do you say, Callahan? Want to come in for some,” she waggled her brows at him, “eggs?”
    His strong hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he pulled in front of her apartment building and popped the car in park. Her heart pounded as he shifted in his seat to face her, his handsome face backlit by the full moon.
    "Countess, I would surely love some eggs. And believe me,” he took her chin in his hand urging her to meet his gaze and let out a pained laugh, “I'd love...whatever else it is that you’re offering, but I prefer my ladies coherent, and an hour ago, you didn’t even like me. If you wake up tomorrow and still want to make me eggs? You have my number. I can be here in twelve minutes or less. Guaranteed."
    That last word left no doubt in her fuzzy mind that he was guaranteeing a lot more than just the speed of his arrival.
    She wet her suddenly dry lips, trying desperately to work up enough moisture to respond. Play it off like she'd been kidding around. But the intensity in his eyes halted her dead in her tracks.
    Lord was he handsome. And dead wrong. She did like him. Far more than she ought to.
    Even as her brain was telling her to open the door...to step out and thank him for the ride, she found herself leaning toward him, unable to stop herself.
    "Sadie," he muttered, when her mouth was only an inch from his. It was meant to be a warning, she was sure, but it sounded more like a prayer. A second later, she closed the gap between them and he slanted his mouth over hers. This was no gentle kiss. It was a gnashing of tongues and teeth. A maelstrom of heat and want. A culmination of tension that had been brewing between them from the moment they'd laid eyes on each other.
    He pulled back with a groan to trace her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and laced his fingers into her hair. Then he tipped her head to the side so he could take the kiss deeper again. She moaned against his mouth, desperate to get closer, silently cursing the console between them.
    "I knew you'd taste like that," he rasped, the huskiness of his voice conveying his need. He wanted her as