Several staff members walked by and Kara could feel their eyes on the two of them. “I’m not staying the night with you.”
“Mendez said to do whatever I want and don’t you do whatever he wants?”
“I do my job.”
“Which included fuck—”
“Stop saying that over and over and assuming you have the answers. You know nothing about me or my motivations.”
“I have a good idea.”
Why did her gut tighten at the accusation in his voice? Why did she care what he thought? “No,” she ground out. “No you don’t.” She let the emotions she felt about her real situation bleed into her words, or maybe there was no “let” about it. She’d been operating in a zone for months, trying not to feel anything, to stay focused. Only two times had she failed, and both times were with this man.
His lips twisted sardonically. “I have to admit, you play the victim well, but you won’t play me again. We both know you’re weaving lies to everyone around you. No victim does that. I’m getting answers and I’m getting them tonight.”
Those dangerous emotions she was feeling jabbed her in the chest, made her vulnerable, made her need to get away. “I’m taking my car or I’m not leaving.” His hand was still over hers, holding her and her keys, making her hot and confused when everything had been so clear until he’d shown up in the picture. “Let go. Unless you think you can’t keep up with my ten-year-old Ford Focus.”
His eyes narrowed sharply, but the handsome planes and angles of his face remained unreadable. “Where are you parked?”
“The space beside you.”
A second passed, then another and he released her hand and motioned her forward. Kara didn’t hesitate to seize her victory. Her chin lifted and she started walking. Blake pursued instantly, behind her, stalking her, the short walk to his passenger door and her driver’s door. This man made her feel exposed, out of control. Bad things with lives on the line, and not her own. She wasn’t worried about herself. She’d learned years ago that to do what she did, you had to wake up ready to die, but she was never, ever; ready to let someone else die.
She clicked her keychain so that her locks opened and reached for the handle. Blake reached around her, the front of his thigh pressing down the length of hers starting at her hip, the feel of him stealing her breath. “Don’t even think about running,” he warned.
Heat washed through her and over her at his touch, and she was shaken by the depth of need she felt for him. She didn’t look at him for fear he’d see her reaction. “I have nothing to run from,” she said, and silently added, because I have everything to lose if I do.
Silence greeted her declaration, the seconds ticking by again, and she held her breath, waiting for his reaction. Finally he stepped back, and instead of relief, ice slid over her where heat had been moments before. She didn’t understand the sensation any more than she understood anything this man made her feel.
Kara yanked open her door and he walked to the 4Runner. She slid into the car and tried to tell herself everything was fine. But it wasn’t fine. Blake saw too much. “You have a good story,” she reminded herself, needing to hear it out loud. She’d covered her bases, created her identity without flaw. Except for Denver, she thought. It had been a last-minute decision and she knew better than to make unplanned moves. Her stomach knotted with the realization she’d screwed up. If Blake mentioned Denver to Richter, he’d discover she wasn’t working for Richter, Newport, or the cartel that night she’d stolen his files. She’d be dead for sure, which meant she had to do what she’d come here for and get out of here. She was out of time.
Chapter Four
Why the fuck couldn’t he stop thinking about getting her naked again? And why was he still feeling this ridiculous urge to save her when she’d thrown him under a bus in Denver?
Blake pulled the 4Runner out of the garage behind Kara’s car, cursing her for distracting him, and fighting a flashback of blood and loss and…more blood. Damn it to hell, the acid burn of the past never faded and, no matter what he did, no matter what the momentary rush of pleasure or adrenaline rush he created, it always came back. Even trying to make it go away felt wrong, like he was trying to wash away Whitney, when he’d have traded himself for her in a heartbeat. Finally, he had the chance to do the only thing he had left…avenge her. He wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stand in his way.
His cell phone rang and a glance told him it was Kyle. Blake answered to hear, “Were you going to call and tell me Denver didn’t get you killed, or just drive the new 4Runner around town and break it in?”
“You knew I made it out of the building alive the same time I did, or we wouldn’t be talking. Someone is skimming product and selling it on the side. Mendez slid me inside by naming me as his head of security.”
“What happened to the prior head of security?”
“He failed to solve this problem.”
“He’s dead.”
“I’m sure.”
“Good opening for you, but I’m scratching my head. I thought for sure when we saw your Denver playmate waiting on you, you were about to be ten feet under.”
“According to Kara, the head of the Denver division was testing me to see if I could stumble and recover before recommending me to Mendez.”
“That doesn’t seem like a test. It sounds like a setup for blackmail, a way to control someone he gets inside Mendez’s operation.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Blake agreed dryly, pausing at a stoplight behind Kara.
“And Mendez’s secretary is helping to undermine him. It pulls this together for me. It makes sense.”
“Yeah.” Blake let out a breath, not sure why that logical answer to why Kara had been in Denver didn’t feel right to him.
“You don’t think so,” Kyle observed, having spent enough years working with Blake to know him better than even his brothers did.
“Something doesn’t add up,” Blake admitted. “What do you know about her?”
“On paper, she looks like a perfect candidate to be motivated by money. She’s caring for a mother with Alzheimer’s disease who has no insurance.”
“But?”
“But she’s too squeaky clean. No other family, no ties. Her identity reads like something I’d create to go undercover.”
The light turned green and Kara started moving again, and Blake followed her. “Find out when she went to Denver, if she was alone, and who paid her expenses.”
“I’m on it, but I’m guessing it was all cash no matter who is involved.”
So was Blake. Kara turned right and he followed, bringing the pier and the hotel sign into view.
“We have to consider the possibility she could be working for an agency. Royce could call in a favor and run her through the FBI database—”
“Forget it. I’m not having my brother, who has a pregnant wife at home, involved in this.”
“He doesn’t have to know it’s for you.”
Blake grimaced. “This is Royce we’re talking about. He’ll figure it out.” And he’d lecture Blake about having a death wish and try to intervene. “Start with finding out about her Denver travel. And see if you can track any calls between her and the head of the Denver division.” Kara pulled into a parking garage. “I need to go. I’ll call you when I can talk.” He ended the connection, pulled into a spot beside Kara, and watched her kill her lights as he did the same.
Blake waited on Kara to exit her car before grabbing his duffle and exiting his own, the timing meant to ensure she didn’t have the chance to drive away while he was outside his vehicle. Once she walking toward her trunk, he joined her and took her briefcase.
Surprise flashed in her eyes, like she didn’t expect him to be a gentleman, and he had reason not to be with her, without question, but manners were inbred by his military father. “So you can’t hit me with it,” Blake explained, his hand brushing hers, the connection sending a jolt of pure lust rocketing through his blood.
br /> She shivered and hugged herself, and he knew she wasn’t reacting to the cool evening air floating off the nearby ocean, but to the instant heat simmering between them. “I’d have thought you’d be more likely to hit me with it.”
“Never hit a woman,” Blake assured her, his nostrils flaring with the soft, familiar feminine scent of her he’d been dreaming of for a week now. “Spanked a few, but—”
“Way too much information,” she said, holding up her hands and looking appalled.
“I’m pretty sure you have a creative enough imagination to figure it out on your own anyway.” But the truth was, despite the hot night they’d spent together, there was an innocent quality about her that defied how sizzling she’d been in bed with him. Not innocent, but…something. He doubted seriously she’d gone to any of the many places he had in the past two years. He motioned her toward the elevator. “Let’s go have that chat we need to have.”
“You know everything there is to know,” she insisted, falling into step with him.
“I doubt that,” he commented dryly.
Her brow crinkled. “You doubt and assume too much.”
He almost choked on the irony of that statement. “Only when I have reasons and you’ve given me more reasons in a week than most do in a lifetime.”
She punched the elevator button. “Or you’re so cynical that you see things that aren’t there.”
He stared down at her, thinking how petite she was, how delicate and easily hurt she appeared. How in need of protection. That’s what made woman such weapons. They made a man forget they could pull a trigger just as easily as he could. “We’re both working for Mendez and you think I’m too cynical?”
She bit her bottom lip. He wanted to bite that bottom lip. He wanted to lick it and her. He was going to lick it and her. “I suppose you do have a point there,” she conceded.
They stepped into the elevator and she hit the lobby floor, which was the only option. She leaned on the wall and faced him. He leaned on the wall and faced her. Neither of them spoke as the elevator creaked upward, but the sexual tension between them blistered the walls. She sucked in a breath as if the heat was too much to handle and cut her gaze. Whatever her motivations for sleeping with him in Denver, whatever his for that matter, they’d wanted each other and they still did.
The doors opened and she glanced back at him, pausing as if she knew they were headed to bedroom bliss, and there was no return once they were alone. She was right. She exited with him at her heels and into the typical upscale hotel lobby, including random seating and lots of tile and chandeliers. At the check-in desk, Blake gave his name and waited until the attendant slid a key toward him.
Blake slid it back. “Change my room.”
The fifty-something male frowned and Blake could feel Kara staring at him. “Is there something wrong with the room?” the man asked. “Or…you haven’t seen the room.”
Blake looked at the number on the envelope. “Superstitious. I hate the number 260 and the entire second floor. I need another floor and room.”
A few minutes later they headed to the final bank of elevators and the seventh floor, where a family of four joined them. They exited at the seventh floor and she motioned to the right. “Lucky 711 is this way.”
He smirked and fell into step with her down the hallway. “I prefer to ensure my privacy.”
“He didn’t have the room bugged,” she commented. “I made the reservation and he never asked me the details.”
They stopped at the door and he swiped the card. “Since I know you don’t want this conversation overheard any more than I do, I believe you.” He shoved open the door and grabbed her purse.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, holding onto it.
“This isn’t déjà vu, sweetheart. I won’t be having any toxic surprises tonight.”
She glared at him. “I don’t—”
“I’ll be finding out for myself.”
She wet those lips he was thinking about licking, His cock jerked, blood running hot. She was killing him, and not softly.
“I guess I would feel the same way,” she admitted finally.
“I guess you would.” He glanced down at her hand still holding the purse.
She hesitated a moment but let it go before entering the room. His blood ran hot. Kara, alone in a hotel room. He wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t déjà vu. It was “take two” and one hundred percent on his terms.
Chapter Five
Kara trembled as she walked into the room and all the way to the ceiling-to-floor windows, aware of the bed to her right like she’d never been aware of a bed in her life. Feeling like a deer being stalked by a leopard, her chest was tight with a rush of adrenaline and emotion—fear, she realized. She didn’t often feel fear. Not until recently. Not until she’d realized how close she was to losing the only thing she had left in this world. But it wasn’t Blake that scared her tonight when it should be. It was how much she wanted him, how much she wanted him to be something other than she knew him to be. And it was that kind of thinking that tangled women up with men like him and got them killed.
The sound of the door closing behind her set her heart racing and she turned to find Blake flipping the lock. They were alone. She was locked in here with him. In Denver, she’d thought she’d never see him again when she’d decided to sleep with him. Everything had changed now.
He dropped his bag, and her briefcase, on the floor by the door, but held onto her purse. He paused by the bed to his right and unzipped it. “You do know a girl’s purse is sacred.”
“So are the next few hours of my life. I don’t intend to spend them hunched over a toilet from one of your cocktails.” He dumped the contents of her bag on the bed and Kara held her breath, waiting for what he would reveal. Her Glock .22 bounced onto the bed.
He arched a brow. “Anger issues?”
“I won’t apologize for carrying protection.”
He dug through the rest of the items in her purse and stuffed it all back inside. “I won’t ask you to apologize for the gun,” he finally surprised her by saying, and stuck the Glock back in her purse. “In fact, I’d be disappointed if you were foolish enough not to protect yourself, considering who you work for. That doesn’t mean I want to make it easy for you to use it on me.” He back-stepped to his bag and squatted down, punching in a combination on a lock connected to the zipper and then opened it. He snatched up her slim briefcase and didn’t bother to look through it before placing it inside his duffle along with her purse.
“If you want me to go over the restaurant operation, I need that,” she commented.
“I don’t. Not tonight. We have other things to deal with first.”
Okay then. They had other things to deal with. She did wonder why he’d bothered looking through her purse and not her briefcase, but it didn’t matter. The bottom line was the same. Her gun, her purse, and her car keys were now out of her reach, under his control. She was under his control. Trapped. At his mercy. Heat pooled low in her belly. Why, why, why was this man being in complete control so damn thrilling? She tried to tell herself it was a survival instinct, a way to get past being his captive, but it wasn’t. It so wasn’t. It was him. It was something he ignited in her she’d never felt before.
He straightened, big and broad, deliciously male, and shrugged out of his leather coat, tossing it on top of his bag. “Your turn,” he said, his voice a soft command. “Take off your jacket.”
In her mind, she knew she should decline, set the stage early that she wasn’t his willing slave. She should set ground rules for what was going to be more than this one night. But it was just a jacket and she was fully clothed underneath it. To decline seemed the wrong battle to fight.
Kara reached for the tie at her waist and pulled it loose. Blake leaned a shoulder on the wall to his left, watching her, those dark eyes hooded, impossible to read. But she didn’t have to. The heat simmering between them prickled at her skin, teasing her senses.
br /> Slowly she slid the garment off her shoulders and set it on top of the chair in the corner to her right. Blake’s gaze raked down her body and back up again. Kara crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I assume you have questions. I’ve already given you answers.”
“Get undressed.”
Kara gaped at the unexpected demand, her arms dropping. “What?”
“You heard me. Get undressed.”
“No,” she said, exasperated, angry. “I’m not getting undressed.”
“For all I know you have drugs you intend to use on me, or worse, stashed in your clothes. Fool me once, sweetheart, but never again. So either you get rid of your clothes or I get rid of them for you.”
“I’m not getting undressed.”
He pushed off the wall and took a step toward her. Kara’s heart jackhammered and she held up a hand. “Don’t even think about it.”
“You do it or I’ll do it.”
“Forget it, Blake,” she said firmly. “You want to talk, then talk.”
“I talk better with you naked.”
“I don’t.”
“Too bad.”
They glared at one another, the air crackling with the tension between them, the distrust, the anger, and the desire. Kara swallowed hard. They were going to end up naked. She knew it. He knew it. Her mind raced. She wasn’t going to play a victim. That wasn’t who she’d created with this identity, nor was it who she’d been with him before now. It wasn’t even who she was as a person. No matter who he was or what he was, she couldn’t escape this moment in time with him, nor did she truly want to. Living in the moment was part of what she’d been trained to do. She wasn’t going to get emotionally attached, and letting herself enjoy this man physically might even save her life. It might be bad logic she’d question as sane later, but it worked for her now.
Her chin lifted. “You want me to get undressed, then you get undressed.”
His eyes darkened, narrowed, and something unreadable, dangerously hot and edgy, flickered in their depths. He stepped forward, taking a long stride toward her. Then another. Kara stood her ground, expecting him to stop in front of her, to touch her. Please yes. Now that she’d decided to do this, she was all about him touching her. But he didn’t stop right in front of her and he didn’t touch her.