“No.”
Jori thought about that answer as she worked the second stud through the shirt fabric. She and her girlfriends had planned for her prom for three solid months. The guy who took her wasn’t nearly as interesting to her as getting the right dress and heels. They had pored over the wholesale catalogs in her mother’s dress boutique, making sure they each picked out the absolutely most sick dress of all. “Where did you grow up?”
He looked down at her, his lids nearly closed. “The Alabama-Coushatta Reservation in east Texas near Livingston.”
“Reservation?”
“Shocked?”
“No.” Jori studied his face. It gave away no clues. “I know about Native American reservations. I just never met anyone who grew up on one.”
“In your world, I’m not surprised.”
She ignored the jibe. “Didn’t your father make a big deal out of his Cajun background?”
Law nodded. “Yeah. He liked to do that. Called himself the original coonass.” Some emotion crossed his face but disappeared too quickly for Jori to read it. “I wasn’t reared to share his heritage.” At her raised eyebrows he added, “My mother was a temporary sidetrack for him. One of many.”
“You share his name.”
“Yeah. She got him long enough to make it legal. Most women didn’t.”
“So your mother is Alabama-Coushatta?”
“Was. She’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? You didn’t know her.”
“But I know you.”
Law grunted and looked away. That empathetic impulse of hers had a way of catching him off guard. Her fallback position was open. His was clamshell-shut.
Jori took the last stud from his hand and began working at his chin. His skin was warmer here, and she couldn’t help but notice the steady pulse beating in the hollow of his throat. She longed to stroke the pulse point with her finger. But she knew that would prove disastrous to their evening plans.
She moved her gaze a few inches upward. He had shaved very carefully. His jawline was satin-smooth. She lifted a finger to touch the shiny flat scar curving down from the left side of his chin onto his neck.
“Stop.” She met his gaze inches from her own and got a jolt. He looked annoyed, but she knew now that it was an indication of how very much he kept himself under control.
She tucked her lips together as she finished buttoning the stud. He wouldn’t like it if she found humor in his predicament.
There would be time after. And after, she was going to do a lot of things to him she could not let herself think about at this moment.
“Now the cuff links.”
He held out his arms. His wrists were thick. The cuffs barely met around them.
When she finished the second cuff, he leaned forward quickly and sniffed her hair. “You smell nice.”
She glanced up, straight into those dark-golden eyes shadowed by a thicket of black lashes. “Thank you.”
“Where’s the cummerbund?”
“Not wearing a sash.” His expression was priceless.
“Fine. But everyone else will be wearing one.”
“Two words. Black belt.”
Jori grinned and then helped him slip on his jacket. For a rented garment it looked ridiculously good on him. She smoothed his lapels with her hands. “Very nice.”
“What about this thingy?” He held up the bow tie by its cord.
“Not an option for the wedding.” She took it from him and began to attach it around his neck. “You can ditch it at the reception.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll remove it personally.”
He reached up and closed his hands over her waist. “Want to practice removing things now? You still haven’t told me what articles of clothing don’t match.”
It was a hot lick of a moment. The air sizzled and snapped. He didn’t look at ease in the tux. He looked like a heat-seeking missile dressed up as James Bond. All badass attitude and yet coolly watchful. His golden-black gaze was leaving heat streaks on her skin.
“We can’t … not now.”
He smiled. It was something she was beginning to think of as a reward because he did it so rarely and felt so good. “Later.”
Jori nodded, not daring for both their sakes, and the wedding, to say another word.
Law watched her gather up her purse and a wrap that looked like a sweater with long tails she wrapped around her waist and tied. She didn’t look dressed warmly enough for the weather. He should insist she put her coat over what she had on. Maybe he should get the blanket off the bed.
When he suggested the latter idea, she laughed and ran her hand down his jacket front. “You’ll find ways to keep me warm. I’m counting on it.”
Law grunted and swung his hand out for her to go ahead out the door. He’d find ways all right. Spend the entire trip thinking about them. He was already hot enough to burn down the cabin around them.