Mick leaned close and said next to her ear, “What are you doing here?”

He smelled like soap and skin. “Apparently I’m talking to you.”

One of his hands slid to hers and grasped her like a hot vice. “Let’s go.”

She grabbed her purse from the table and looked over her shoulder at Ryan, then Adele. “I’ll be right back,” she hollered.

“You sound sure about that,” said the man hauling her through the crowd toward the back of Mort’s. “Excuse us,” she said as she bumped into Darla. He kept a tight grip on her hand as he just kind of moved through the crowd like a linebacker. She was forced to issue a “Pardon me” and another “Excuse us” over the music pouring from the juke. They walked past the end of the bar, down a short hall, and he pulled her behind him into a small room.

He closed the door and dropped her hand. “I told you to stay out of my bar.”

In one quick glance, Maddie’s gaze took in an oak desk, a coatrack, a big metal safe, and a leather sofa. “You were talking about Hennessy’s at the time.”

“No. I wasn’t.” His gaze narrowed and she could practically feel anger rolling off him in waves. “Because I’m a nice guy, I’m going to give you the option of grabbing your friend and walking out the front door.”

Once again, she didn’t fear his anger. Instead, she almost liked the way it turned his eyes kind of fierce, and she leaned back against the door. “Or?”

“I’ll toss you out on your ass.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Then I should probably warn you that, if you touch me again, I have a Taser and I’ll shoot fifty thousand volts in your ass.”

He blinked. “You pack a Taser?”

“Among other things.”

Again he blinked, kind of slow, like he couldn’t believe he’d heard her right. “What things?”

“Pepper spray. Brass knuckles. A hundred-and-twenty-five-decibel screecher alarm. Handcuffs and a Kubaton.”

“Is it even legal to pack a Taser?”

“It’s legal in forty-eight states. This is Idaho. What do you think?”

“You’re crazy.”

She smiled. “So I’ve been told.”

He stared at her for several moments before he asked, “Do you make it a habit of running around pissing people off?”

She occasionally did make people mad, but she never made a habit of it. “No.”

“Then it’s just me.”

“I don’t mean to make you mad, Mick.”

One dark brow rose up his tan forehead.

“Well, I didn’t mean to make you mad before tonight. But I kind of have a little problem with being told what I can and can’t do.”

“No shit.” He folded his arms across his wide chest. “Why do you need all that stuff?”

“I interview people who aren’t very nice.” She shrugged. “They’re usually in belly chains and leg irons and cuffed to a table when I talk to them, though. Or we talk through Plexiglas. Of course, prisons never let me take in my safety devices, but I always get them back when I leave. I feel safer when I’m packing.”

He took a step back and his gaze raked her up and down. “You look normal. But you’re not.”

Maddie didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not. He probably didn’t mean it as a compliment, though.

He rocked back on his heels and looked down at her. “Were you planning on zapping the blond guy coming on to you in the corner?”

“Ryan? No, but if he plays his cards right, I might cuff him.”

“He’s a tool.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was jealous. “Do you know him?”

“I don’t have to know him to know he’s a tool.”

Which made no sense at all. “How can you say someone’s a tool if you don’t know him?”

Instead of answering, he said, “You were practically tongue-kissing him.”

“That’s ridiculous. I haven’t made out with a stranger in a bar since college.”

“Maybe you’re tired of being ‘kind of sexually abstinent.’”

That was an understatement. She was really tired of it, but when she thought of having hot, down-and-dirty, animal sex, she thought of Mick. Ryan was cute, but ultimately he was a stranger in a bar, and she no longer made out or picked up strangers in bars. “Don’t worry about my celibacy.”

His gaze slid to her mouth and lower, down her chin and throat, and got hung up on her breasts. It was past nine, so of course she was cold. “Honey, your body isn’t made for celibacy.” Her hard nipples made two sharp points in the front of her dress. “It’s made for sex.” He raised his gaze to hers. “Lots of rough, sweaty sex that lasts all night long and into the next morning.”

Normally she might have been tempted to Mace a guy for saying that, but when Mick said it, she felt hot little tugs in her stomach and her body urged her to raise her hand to volunteer for sweaty sex duty. “Celibacy is a state of mind.”

“Which explains why you’ve gone insane.”

“Now who’s the tool?” She adjusted her purse to keep it from falling off her shoulder, but her fingers barely touched the bag before Mick pinned her wrists to the door beside her head.

She looked up into his face an inch above hers. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not going to just stand here and let you shoot my ass with fifty thousand volts.”

She tried not to smile and failed. “I was adjusting my bag on my shoulder.”

“Call me paranoid, but I don’t believe you.”

“You really thought I was going to zap you?” Zapping him had been the furthest thing from her mind.

“You weren’t?”

She chuckled. “No. You’re too pretty to get shot with fifty thousand volts.”

“I’m not pretty.” He let out a breath and it touched the side of her face and neck. “You smell like strawberries.”

“It’s my lotion.”

“You smelled like strawberries that day in Handy Man Hardware.” He buried his nose in her hair and she was so shocked, she felt like she’d been zapped. “You always smell so good. It’s been driving me crazy.” He pressed the length of his body into hers. “When I saw you across the bar, I wanted to do this.” He lowered his face to the side of her throat.

“I thought you wanted to toss me out on my ass.” How had it suddenly gotten so hot? A few minutes ago, she’d been cold. Now she felt hot little tingles rushing across her skin.

“I’ll get to that. Later.” He let go of her hands, but his hips held hers against the door. He’d definitely dressed left. He was long and hard and a dull ache settled between her thighs. Harriet had been right. The Hennessy men were blessed. “First I wanted to smell you right here.” He pushed her sweater away and kissed her bare shoulder. “Where you’re soft and taste good.”

“I like soft skin.” She took a shallow breath and closed her eyes. She wanted him to taste a little lower. “I’m kind of a hedonist that way.”

“How can you be a hedonist and celibate?” he asked against her neck.

“It’s not easy.” And becoming more difficult by the second. If she wasn’t careful, her hedonist side would rule her celibate side, and she would go down in a blaze of orgasmic glory. Which didn’t sound so horrible. Just not with him. She lifted her hand to the side of his face and brushed her thumb across the slight stubble of his cheek. “Especially when you’re around.”

He chuckled. A low masculine sound that came from the center of his chest. He raised his face and his gaze had gone all half-mast with lust and his lashes looked very long. Desire shone bright in his eyes and his hands moved to her waist.

“You’re the last man on the planet I can have.” She raised her mouth to his and he lifted his weight. “And the one I want most.”

“Ain’t life a bitch,” he whispered against her lips.

She nodded and rose to the balls of her feet. Her hand slid to the back of his head and she pressed her mouth to his. His hands on her waist tightened, and for several agonizing heartbeats,

he remained perfectly still, his warm palms glued to her waist, his mouth against hers. Then a deep groan sounded low in his throat, and he slid one hand to the small of her back and the other between her shoulders on the outside of her sweater. He brought her against his chest and he kissed her. Soft, sweet. His lips created a delicious suction and he drew her tongue into his mouth, his cheeks sucking lightly.

Maddie’s purse fell to the floor and she moved her free hand up the hard muscles of his arm and shoulder. Heat radiated from him and warmed her breasts where she was pressed against his chest. Maddie had never been a passive lover, and while he sweetly made love to her mouth, her fingers combed through his hair and her free palm roamed the hard contours of his chest and back. If he wasn’t Mick Hennessy, she would have pulled his shirt from his Levi’s and felt his bare skin.

Mick slid his mouth to the side of her throat. “You’re the last woman I should want,” he said between short gasps. “The only woman I can’t stop thinking about.” His hands moved to cup her behind and her hips cradled his erection. “What is it about you that drives me so crazy?” Pressed against her lower belly, he was enormous and so hard the pressure against her pelvis almost hurt.

Almost. She rocked against him as he pushed her sweater down her arms. He tossed the red angora somewhere behind him, but she didn’t need it. She was too hot. Her fingers curled in the front of his shirt and her mouth moved to his neck. He tasted good beneath her tongue. Like warm flesh and aroused man, and she sucked his skin. She grasped handfuls of shirt and swayed against his stiff penis. It had been four years since she’d felt anything so delectable, and she’d missed it. She’d missed the touch of a man’s hands, his hot mouth, and the sounds of arousal deep in his throat.