Free The Protector by Gennita Low Page B

life,” Jazz told her. “He’ll drive a hard bargain.”
    “We’ll see whether you’re right,” she said dryly. “What should I say I’m keeping you safe from? Those girls in Rose’s neighborhood?”
    She had the sass of a cocky trumpet interrupting a good piece, creating the interesting reply to the string of background harmony.
    “Maybe,” he replied, looking at his target through half-closed eyes.
    Jazz had never looked at a woman and thought of music before. He studied the woman next to him and wondered what she would say if he told her that she was inspiring some pretty cool rhythms in his head. His lips quirked. She would have one of those tart comebacks in that soft French accent that inspired other kinds of rhythms.
    “You get amused easily, don’t you, Lieutenant? No one even need tell you a joke.”
    “I can’t even smile now?”
    She sighed. “You smile too damn much.”
    He had been told that before. “I can’t help it,” he told her solemnly. “I was born with a big smile on my pretty face. Maman always said she had to smack me to make sure I knew how to cry.”
    Vivi gave him a startled glance, then laughed. He liked the way her laughter sounded—full-bodied and mellow. “I’ll have to remember to kick your ass a bit then,” she said.
    “Over dinner?” he persisted.
    “Maybe after,” she replied very softly.
    He grinned. Maman’s advice had always been good. To get a date, always make the woman feel like a woman, shehad said. And always tell her his maman beat his behind a lot. He had gotten his two wishes—a smile and dinner. He had been around women enough to know not to push his luck. He changed the subject.
    “How do you know where to take me?” Jazz asked. He was curious about how Vivi had gotten such information, anyway. He belonged to one of the top covert groups in the United States; very few people knew anything about them. He suspected that Vivi was one of them, and that added a whole layer of intriguing possibilities.
    “My boss told me,” Vivi said, slanting him a quick glance as she maneuvered the small car through the hodgepodge of traffic down the increasingly busy downtown.
    They were back to mysterious film noir heroine leading the man around, Jazz thought in amusement. “And your boss is…?”
    Her answering look was telling. “Have I asked any questions about you, your covert activities, or your outfit, Lieutenant Zeringue?” When he smiled lazily at her, her back straightened defensively. “What? Why do you always do that?”
    He was getting to her. “Do what?” he asked.
    “Don’t give me that innocent boy act. You always give me that look whenever you think I’m speaking double entendres.”
    “Well, you were the one who brought up covert activities and outfit, chouchou ,” he pointed out. “I’d be happy to demonstrate all my covert activities after dinner tonight. I have no outfits in mind.”
    Vivi answered with a sudden bout of choked coughing. He had a feeling she was trying to disguise her laughter. For some reason, she didn’t want him to know she enjoyed his company, but he’d caught the laughter gleaming in her eyes before she turned back to the traffic. He leaned over and whispered wickedly, “Except for my pendant, of course, chouchou. I think it’d make the covert activities very exciting.”
    Her hand came up between her breasts, grasping at thehidden pendant. “You’ll have this back as soon as we reached our destination.”
    “No, keep it warm for me till after dinner,” he told her wickedly.
    Her hand stroked at his necklace absently, and he suddenly wished she were doing the same thing to him somewhere more strategic. “Lieutenant Zola Zeringue,” she warned. “You don’t know when to stop pushing your luck.”
     
    Whatever had possessed her to even contemplate a dinner date with this man? Vivi slammed the car door shut. The subject of her thoughts did likewise, looking around the neighborhood as he did so. It