Luckily, before he had to resort to caveman tactics, she glanced up and caught sight of him. A smile flashed across her face, quickly replaced by a scowl. But at least she got up from the stool, spoke briefly to her companion, and headed on over.
Her hair was multicolored, different shades of red. It matched her crimson top, which was tight and short, revealing the smooth, white skin of her stomach right down to her navel. Christ—she’d had it pierced. A small red stone nestled in the indentation, and his dick actually twitched.
He forced his gaze lower. The black pants looked like they’d been painted on, and she wore high heels that made her hips sway as she walked. The effect was spoiled a little as she tripped and swore. But she eventually came to a halt in front of him. He put a hand on the bare skin of her waist and led her to a dark corner.
“Who was that?” he asked, nodding toward the bar.
“Just a man who reckons I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.”
“Quite a transformation.” He smoothed a strand of her hair. “I especially like this.”
Her brows drew together. “You like it?”
Why did he get the impression that his liking it hadn’t been the purpose of the exercise? But he did like it. “Very sexy.”
“It’s the ‘just got out of bed’ look.”
He had an image of that multicolored hair spilling over his pillow. “We’ll see.”
Alarm flashed across her face, and she took a step back, then swore. “These goddamn shoes are killing me.” She perched on the stool behind her and exhaled.
“So what’s with the makeover?” he asked.
He had no clue what was going through her mind. Obviously, yesterday had had a profound effect on her. Why else had she suddenly decided to face Michael after all these years? Then when he’d seen her later at the office, he’d known she wanted him, could almost scent her arousal, and he’d needed all his willpower not to take her right there.
But she’d run again.
Now this.
If she’d changed her look for some other man, he was dead. Jake had seen all the men watching her. Who could blame them? All the same, they might look, but they’d better not touch.
Maybe it was time to make that clear to Kim. She beat him to it.
“So what’s this about you getting the guys to babysit me?” she asked, a scowl on her face. “Dave said you gave orders that they’re to ‘keep me out of trouble.’”
Ah. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying you want that sort of trouble?” He took a step closer. “I thought I made it clear yesterday. You want a lover, then that’s me.”
“That is just Neanderthal.” She shook her head. “I don’t get why you’re being like this. I’m so not your type.”
“You’re not?” Tell that to my dick.
“You like sophisticated, elegant women.” She waved a hand down over her outfit. “That’s not me.”
Did he? He’d never considered that he had a type. But he supposed from outward appearances it might seem that way. In fact, he’d chosen women who could take care of themselves, who wouldn’t want more than a casual fling—women who wouldn’t touch his emotions while he waited for Kim.
But he wanted more than a casual fling with Kim. He just had to find a way to persuade her she wanted the same.
“So what about us?” he asked. “We were good together.”
“Us?” She looked wary. “Well, you showed me that I’m not frigid. I was a little worried about that.”
“No. You’re definitely not frigid.”
“That’s the last thing I needed, to prove I was over Michael.”
Couldn’t she see that she was far from over him? That the bastard still controlled her life? “So why don’t you want to be with me again? With a little practice, we’d be even better.”
She twirled a strand of red-gold hair around her finger while she considered her answer. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I don’t think we should. Jake, you’re my friend. I like you. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t lose me.”
She tilted her head. “How many of your ex-girlfriends are you still friends with?”
“I wasn’t friends with them before. I’m sure we can have sex and stay friends.”
“I thought we could as well. But then you…” She took a deep breath and girded herself to continue. “Then you…asked me to marry you. And I knew it couldn’t work.”
“It could work. We’ll make it work. I know my last proposal didn’t go well. Next time—”
“No next time. Don’t ever say those words again. Never.”
Well, that was going to make his next proposal difficult. Because there would be a next one, despite what she thought.
“I saw Michael this morning.”
“You did?” He searched her face—had she seen him following her? But he could get nothing from her expression.
“I’d been meaning to see him for a while. Then when you and I talked about him yesterday, it brought back the past.”
“What happened?”
“I kicked him.”
He wished he could tell her what a great job she’d done, but he guessed she wouldn’t be too pleased about Stalker Jake. “Good.”
“But seeing Michael reminded me that I don’t want to ever get married again.”