Stolen Seduction

  He scoffed. “Not mine.”

  She leveled him with a look. “I saw you with her.”

  “Saw me what?”

  “Saw her working you.”

  His brow wrinkled. “I like my women a little bit smarter and lot less pushy.”

  “Don’t get all bent out of shape,” she said as she started walking again. “She was only coming on to you to piss me off. Odds are good that’s why she hustled Billy, too, because she knew that would get to me.” Her temper bubbled up all over again at just the thought.

  “Hold up.” His hand on her arm pulled her back to face him. “Are you jealous?”

  “Of Nicole?”

  “Of your sister and Sullivan.”

  “Why would I be jealous of Nicole and Billy?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  The clip to his voice told her the idea got under his skin, and just the thought had a memory flash of their heated kiss this morning skipping through her mind. Her skin tingled as she remembered his hands on her body, what he’d felt like all hard and hot pressing up against her, how good he’d tasted. And what they would have both done if the phone hadn’t stopped them.

  Then she heard his gruff admission: I do want you. I’ve wanted you since we met, and that doesn’t piss me off, it jacks me up. Followed by his numbing revelation that the heat between them would only cause problems, ones she didn’t want.

  She was sick to death of people telling her what she was supposed to do, how she was supposed to feel, what was best for her. Her father had done it for years. Her ex-husband was still doing it under the guise of friendship whenever he saw her. Now Shane was trying to do it, too.

  Her eyes narrowed. “If you have something to ask, Maxwell, just spit it out.”

  He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans and flicked something that made a clicking sound.

  “You know, that’s really starting to annoy me. What is it?”

  He pulled out the square plastic box and gave it a little shake before repocketing it. “Tic Tacs.”

  “Nervous habit?”

  “You could say that. Safer than Jameson.” His eyes grew serious before she could ask what that meant. “Why would Sullivan go along with your sister? I thought you said he was helping you. Looks to me like he’s working against you.”

  She turned and resumed walking again, because, yeah, that’s how it looked to her, too, and she didn’t like it. “He may be a genius, but he’s still a guy. And Nicole knows men.”

  “Sullivan’s a genius?” he said with disgusted disbelief from close behind. “Now who’s being the comedian?”

  “His IQ’s in the Nobel Prize-winning-genius category. Not that you’d ever know by looking.”

  “No way.”

  “Way.”

  His footsteps echoed behind her. “Then what the hell’s he doing with you?”

  Oh, that did it. She stopped. Pivoted. Leveled him with a look.

  He read her reaction and quickly held up his hands. “That’s not what I meant. I should have said with any of you. Rafe, Kauffman, my sister.” When her glare narrowed, he raked a hand through his already disheveled hair. “Shit, this is coming out wrong. I’m just gonna shut up now.”

  “Smart man.” Temper back to bubbling, she resumed walking and mentally ran over what Billy had told her. Nicole wanted in. And she wanted part of the prize at the end or she wouldn’t give up her bronze.

  Yeah, right. Like Hailey believed that one.

  But what did Nicole really want? Money, sure. Security, of course. A way to get out from underneath their mother’s thumb.

  Hell, that last one was the same damn thing Hailey wanted.

  If she was ever going to prove she hadn’t killed Bryan and find out what her father had been up to, she needed those numbers on the bottom of Nicole’s statue. But enough to partner up with the viper? Oh, that was almost asking too much.

  “If you’re thinking through something, Roarke, just say it right now.”

  How the heck did he know what was going on in her head before she did?

  “Don’t read my mind,” she said without looking his way. “It’s irritating.”

  He slipped his hands in the pockets of his jeans. That click-click-click came from his pocket again. “I wasn’t. I could practically see the little mouse on the wheel in there.”

  “You’re a regular Jay Leno today. What got into you?”

  “Don’t know. Coulda been loss of blood from yesterday. Mighta been that caffeine I was pumping you with earlier. More than likely, though, it was you. This morning.”

  Three words: You, this morning. That’s all it took to make her completely forget whatever she’d been thinking before.

  She glanced over her shoulder only to catch a deep scowl on his face, not the humorous expression she’d hoped to see. The man was a complete mystery. One minute he was kissing her with a rabid passion she hadn’t experienced in, yeah, forever, the next he was looking like just the idea ticked him off.

  No, that wasn’t it, she realized as she studied him. The next he was looking like a man who did want her but didn’t like the idea of her wanting him back.

  And what the hell kind of sense did that make?

  She was just about to ask that very question when glass in the passenger window of the car to her left shattered, raining tiny bits and pieces all over the concrete at her feet.

  “Get down!”

  The air left her lungs in a rush as Shane slammed into her from behind. He took her to the ground hard, rolling so his back took the brunt of the impact. Then he was on top of her, his arms and head and chest shielding her face and torso from the flying glass.

  A second and third gunshot slammed into the car above them. Before she even got her bearings, Shane rolled off, grabbed her hand and jerked her around the other side of the vehicle to push her down near the wheel well, using it to block their sniper.

  He pulled her Beretta from his shoulder harness, where he’d put it this morning after she’d given it to him on the plane. “Goddammit. I miss my fucking gun.”

  So did she. Why had she given him hers? Good thing she’d thought to grab her backup pistol before leaving the plane.

  She draped her bag over her head so the strap ran across her chest, chanced a glance around the car they were hiding behind, then pulled out the semiautomatic when she saw movement.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Shane asked as she checked the magazine.

  “He’s by the gray van over there.” She snapped the magazine back in place. “Cover me so I can get around behind him.”

  His hand snaked out so fast, she didn’t track it until he had a death grip on her Windbreaker. “Like hell.”

  “Maxwell, we’re both trained—”

  “Last I checked, you’re a wanted suspect. A paper-pushing wanted suspect. You plug somebody and you really are going to go to jail. And if you think I’m letting you get close to this son of a bitch, you’re higher than a kite.”

  Glass shattered above them. He grabbed her head and pushed her down so the debris didn’t hit her.

  She swatted at his arms with her free hands. “I’m not going to keep running from this guy—”

  “Guys,” he corrected. “There were two in the swamp, remember?”

  “Shh,” she said, looking to the side. “Listen.”

  Shane loosened his grasp, went still. “He’s reloading.”

  That was enough for her. As soon as he let go, she was off. Ducking behind cars and moving quietly and quickly so as not to be seen.

  “Goddamn it, Roarke.”

  She ignored Shane’s muttering and inched her way up until she was only one row from where she’d seen their sniper hiding between a minivan and a beat-up Camry.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. She thought back to the way her attacker had cornered her in the elevator. Sending her a message, he’d said. Well, he was about to get one right back. She was done playing the helpless female. She want
ed to know if it was indeed Paul and what was really going on.

  Bracing her back against a dirt-covered Suburban, she wrapped both hands around the 9mm and slowly peered around the corner of the vehicle. Nothing moved within a twenty-foot radius. Security obviously hadn’t heard the shots because no one came running. Cars honked on the street a quarter mile across the massive parking lot. Shouts and cheers echoed from inside the track where the next race had already started. Above, palms swooshed and swayed in the growing breeze. But all Hailey heard was her pulse. Strong and hot and heavy in her ears.

  Her eyes zeroed in on the van. She counted to three. Took one step and was jerked to a stop by a hand around her mouth that came out of nowhere.

  “Don’t you fucking move.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I thought I had a death wish,” Shane whispered in Hailey’s ear. He jerked her back tight against his chest and didn’t loosen his hand around her mouth or the one with a death grip on her wrist. “But, lady, you take the cake. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  She stiffened, but he didn’t let go, not even when she ground that cute ass of hers into him, briefly sending his brain spinning to thoughts other than the fact some moron on the other side of this SUV wanted to blow holes in their heads.

  They had a real communication problem going on here. That and a power struggle he liked way too much.

  “If we’re going to do this,” he whispered so quietly only she could hear, “we do it together. On three?”

  She froze, then nodded once. She still had the 9mm clamped between both hands. Adrenaline pumping, he moved in stealth mode toward the other side of the SUV. When he was in position, gun drawn, crouched low near the front tire, smelling rubber and asphalt, he gave her the signal.

  She disappeared around the back of the Suburban as he crept past the hood. Though his first instinct was to pull her the hell out of here where she couldn’t get hurt, he was starting to realize Hailey Roarke did things her own way. No matter the consequences.

  And damn if that didn’t light him up more and piss him off all at the same time.

  He peeked around the side of the SUV, careful not to be seen or get caught in the crossfire if Hailey started shooting. But he found nothing but air between this vehicle and the next one.

  “Goddammit,” Hailey muttered, gun lowered as she came around the other side herself.

  Shane pushed up on his legs, and they both took a careful sweep of the cars directly around them in case their sniper was hiding close by.

  Nothing.

  He was holstering his gun when Hailey came back into sight, a frown across her mouth, one gorgeous crease between her bonny blue eyes. “Spineless bastard ran off. I’m sick to death of this cat-and-mouse game.”

  So was he, but mostly because she was as unpredictable as their would-be assassin.

  As soon as she slipped the safety on her 9mm, he grasped her by the arm, swung her around and pushed up so her back was against the silver Suburban and he was all she felt at her front. His mouth was hard, hot and aggressive against hers, and if he left a bruise on her soft and supple lips, right now he didn’t care.

  He pulled back but didn’t let her go. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  The shock in her eyes was replaced with a fiery passion he was all too willing to see flare up. “Don’t turn into the all-macho male, Maxwell. I’m not a rookie.”

  “No, you’re stupid.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Watch it.”

  He ignored her temper and zoned in on the one thing that still had his pulse in the triple digits. “What if there’d been more than one, Hailey? Did you stop to think about that? If this person knows you, like we think, then they know you aren’t going to sit back and do nothing. Which gives them the advantage because they’re expecting you to go on the offensive like this.”

  “So you’re saying I should play the victim? I don’t think so.”

  Oh, man. He wasn’t getting turned on by her aggression. Definitely not.

  “I’m not saying be the victim. I’m saying be smart. I don’t particularly want to get my head blown off because you’re frustrated.”

  She leveled him with a look. “Is that all you’re worried about?”

  “No, goddammit,” he snapped. “I’m worried about you, but you’re too bullheaded to see that. You might have a fancy-ass degree from some yuppie school up north, but they sure the hell didn’t teach you a thing about compromise. If you’re not going to let me be the one to take the risks, then at least don’t go all half-cocked on your own. You don’t have to do everything alone. What’s it going to take to get that through your thick skull?”

  She stared at him without blinking, and didn’t move, not even when he lifted his brows and said, “Well?”

  Her muscles relaxed beneath his hands, one at a time, and finally she said, “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

  He let go and stepped back, knowing his emotions were close to a breaking point. She didn’t get it. But then why would she? Even he didn’t understand what it was about her that set him off and lit him up all at the same time. Half the time he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and lock her up in a closet where she couldn’t get into any trouble and the other half he wanted to strip her naked and keep her quiet with his hands and mouth and other parts of his body he seriously didn’t need to be thinking with right now.

  And that was a bad combination—really bad, considering his history.

  He ground his teeth together because it was safer than putting his fist through a car window. “Try, ‘Okay, Shane. I won’t do that again.’”

  “Okay, Maxwell,” she said with just a hint of sass, “I’ll try not to do anything to get your head blown off again.”

  She pushed past him and sauntered back toward their rental, looking every bit as enticing as she had the first night he’d met her in Key Biscayne when she’d knocked his ass to the ground and pinned him on that cold stone patio. She’d called him Maxwell back then, too. And holy shit, figuring out a way to get her to say his first name was turning into an obsession.

  She suddenly stopped and glanced his direction. “If we hustle, we can hit the bank and maybe figure out what’s in that safety-deposit box before the place closes.”

  We.

  She was tossing him an olive branch. A smart man would take it.

  “What about your sister?”

  A muscle in her temple pulsed, but she resumed walking before he got a good read on her emotions. “If we’re lucky, Billy will find a way to get rid of her. For good.”

  Shane doubted that. Frustrated, he took one more look around the parking lot before following. He’d seen the dopey look on Billy’s face when the kid had been talking to Nicole before either of them had realized he and Hailey were there. No way Billy was going to be able to get rid of Nicole, not unless she wanted to go.

  He supposed in that respect, he and Nicole had something in common.

  He popped a handful of Tic Tacs in his mouth, his temper slowly sliding back to even. By the time he reached the rental, Hailey was already behind the wheel. She flashed him a superior grin as he slid into the passenger seat.

  She waited until he clicked his seat belt, then batted her long eyelashes at him. “All set, Rambo?”

  “Now who’s being Jay Leno?”

  She shifted into gear. “I’m just trying to work on that whole compromise thing.” She pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. “You know, sharing the driving, being in control, grouchy attitude and all that. I can do it, too. See? I can compromise right along with you.” Her glittery eyes rolled his direction. “You want compromise? You haven’t seen nothing yet, honey.”

  Olive branch? Forget it. She was waving a big ol’ red flag, taunting him until the steam was blowing out his nostrils and he was pawing at the ground to get at her.

  And hot damn, he was loving every minute of it.

  He smiled then, a slow curve of his lips as he took her i
n from head to toe. “By all means, show me. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

  Billy knew when to bite his tongue. This was one of those times.

  Dark clouds rolled in off the Atlantic, ones that fit his badass mood like a glove as he drove eighty down the Florida Turnpike toward his apartment in Miami. Yeah, the address sounded nice, but it wasn’t on the beach, wasn’t posh and luxurious like Nicole was used to, wasn’t even fully furnished since he could barely afford the frickin’ rent. Sure, it was several steps up from his last place in Bunche Park, but still…little miss high-and-mighty was about to get a shock to her system. And he couldn’t wait.

  He whipped off the freeway a little too fast and gritted his teeth to keep from snarling when she had to reach up and grasp the safety handle above.

  “Slow down, would you?” she snapped. “You’re going to give me whiplash.”

  “Was that a request from you? Wow, you need something from me? Really? Besides sex?” His jaw tightened. “There’s a news flash.”

  “You don’t have to be such a smart-ass.”

  He glared her way. “Deal with it. I’m already bored with this conversation.”

  She pressed her lips together and stared out the windshield, but she didn’t let go of the safety handle, and he noticed the way she inched closer to the door when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  Had he scared her? Man, he hoped so.

  He jerked the car into his parking spot, slammed on the brakes and shoved the car in park. “Get out.”

  Her eyes flicked from one side to the other as she took in his two-story apartment complex, the cracked sidewalks and the covered portico that was badly in need of repair. “It’s pink,” she muttered as she climbed out and closed the door.

  “You wanted in, princess?” he said with just enough bite to make her wince. “You’re gonna have to slum it with the rest of us peons.”

  “Billy—”

  He pointed toward the stairs. “Second floor. Number 242. Go now.”

  Like a good girl, she went. But as she passed, he saw the flash of temper in her dark eyes. No, little miss high-and-mighty did not like this at all.