Six
“So, what happened?” Jazz asked, her hand reaching out to steady Tasa’s quivering body. Peering into her face, she asked with concern, “Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tasa stammered out, slipping away from Jazz, and going behind the bar to put away the dried glasses.
“Okaaay,” her friend said with a trace of doubt in her tone. “I know what this is. It happens often enough that you shouldn’t be embarrassed.” Tasa glanced up at her in confusion. “Whistle has that effect on women.”
A laugh punched out of her. Good God, was she that obvious? While she was rattled by the way he wormed into her soul and the very real risk that he’d ferret out her secrets, she was far more concerned about the way her body reacted to him. She wouldn’t be able to rebuff his attentions. The possessive gle
