Free Tempted in the Night by Robin T. Popp Page A

stared at her, his expression dark and angry. She knew she was about to catch an earful, but then the bouncer put a hand on John's shoulder. "You, too, buddy."
    He nodded once. "All right. Come on," he said to her.
    "I think not," she said, sounding outraged for the sake of the bouncer. "I hardly even know you and I'm certainly not leaving with you."
    John's jaw dropped. "What the hell … ?"
    "That's it, buddy. You're outta here. Lady doesn't want to go."
    The bouncer put his hand on John's shoulder to escort him out, and for a second, Jess thought he might balk. He certainly looked mad enough.
    Instead, with more dignity than she would have given him credit for, he straightened his shoulders and nodded to the man. "You and I are going to have a nice long talk—later," he promised her and then walked out of the bar without looking back.
    Jessica felt a shiver of apprehension race down her spine, but the emotion was quickly replaced with guilt. She knew the detective had only been trying to protect her, but when would he learn that she didn't need his protection?
     
    Outside, John crossed the street to his parked car. He was in a foul mood. It was bad enough that he'd had to go to the station and be grilled about the young woman's death, but then Dick from Internal Affairs had shown up. John had barely succeeded in convincing the man that he wasn't working a new case, arguing that he'd been following up on an Exsanguinator lead that had, unfortunately, led to the most recent victim.
    Dick had demanded to be told everything and John had promised to bring him up to speed, just as soon as he got a cup of coffee. He'd walked out of the debriefing room and straight out the front door, bumming a ride from one of the other homicide detectives back to his car.
    Seeing the bar open, he'd only wanted one small drink to take the edge off yet another bizarre night. Instead, he'd walked in to find Jessica Winslow, looking entirely too good in a figure-hugging top and a skirt so short that her mile-long legs were on display to every male eye in the place. Dressed like that, she was bound to attract trouble.
    It was on par with his luck tonight to get thrown out of a bar for trying to protect her. He dabbed the napkin against his lip again and saw that the bleeding had slowed considerably. Crumpling the napkin in his hand, he tossed it onto the dash where it landed next to other wadded-up pieces of trash.
    He glanced at his watch again and saw that it was almost three. Hell, he didn't even know why he was sitting here, waiting for her to come out. She sure as hell wouldn't appreciate it.
    He heaved a sigh and settled in for a long wait because while he might not know
why
he was waiting, he knew he wasn't leaving until he saw her again.
    At
three o'clock
, the doors to the bar opened and patrons began stumbling out. John sat a little straighter in his seat as he watched for Jessica. When she didn't appear, he grew concerned.
    He reached for the handle of his car, about to go search for her, when the door opened again. He stayed where he was and waited. Like watching a movie in slow motion, the first thing he saw was a slim foot with painted toenails clad in a black high-heeled sandal. His gaze traveled up the slender ankle, past a toned calf to a shapely thigh that seemed to go on forever before the hem of the skirt blocked further view.
    Her hips were slim, he noted, but shapely, and they curved into a narrow waist. The formfitting red top was just visible beneath the black leather jacket she now wore, but he already knew what lay beneath. Her breasts weren't large, but to his eyes, they were the perfect size and shape for her toned body.
    As he watched, Jessica started walking down the sidewalk, but stopped after taking only a few steps. She pulled her purse in front of her, opened it and seemed to be searching it for something.
    "Come on, Jess," John muttered to himself, growing anxious. He didn't like her being out there all alone.