by J. Kenner
“You’d be surprised.”
“Considering you’re the most distracting mo—” He coughed. “Woman I’ve run across in a long time, I probably would be surprised. Especially if you’re saying that all men don’t agree with my assessment.”
“Let’s just say your competition isn’t exactly breaking down my door.”
At least, not until recently. She let her mind drift back over the last few days. Leon—sort of. The coffee shop guy. Walter. That cop. Burke. Hale. Even that polished-looking fellow she’d met at the mall. Moopi or Mordi or something. Hale’s cousin—the guy who made animal films. It was as if all the men on the planet had suddenly realized she existed.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Believe it.”
She’d gone from being invisible to being so radioactive she practically glowed. If the scenario weren’t so suspicious, it would be intriguing.
But right now, she wasn’t in the mood to analyze. Instead, she was in the mood to enjoy. And absolutely nothing was going to stop her. Not nerves, not logic, not muggers. Not anything.
Looping her arm through her date’s, Tracy aimed what she hoped was a saucy grin in his direction. “But none of that matters. Right now, I want to have a good time. And I want you to be the one I have it with.”
Hale let her words float over him. Exactly the kind of words he’d spoken to so many females, so many times. He should be happy. Hell, he should be ecstatic.
So why in Hades did he feel about two inches tall?
Mentally, he shook his head, needing to get over it. Tracy had just said she wanted exactly what he wanted—and needed for his mission. No strings. No commitments. Just a wild time and enough warm, fuzzy moments to convince her to hand over the belt.
Life really couldn’t be more perfect. Could it?
He headed through the central area of the mall, Tracy’s arm still looped through his own. His assignment practically required him to have an affair with this woman, and that was what he was going to do. A dirty job, but somebody had to do it.
So what if he felt something for her beyond attraction. He knew better than to try and take it anywhere. Mortals and Protectors were like oil and water. Mortals left. They couldn’t stand the heat, so they got the hell out of the kitchen.
Or the Protector ended up turning down the heat to a slow simmer for fear the mortal would somehow get burned. He thought of his father, Donis, now back with Tessa after twenty-five years. Donis hadn’t been on active duty in almost a year. Instead, he was spending “quality time” with Tessa. Yeah, right. To Hale’s ear, that sounded like a fancy way of saying he’d let himself be put out to pasture.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Tracy’s soft voice pulled him out of his reverie.
“Sorry. I was distracted.”
“Earlier you said I was distracting you. Guess I’m not that unique after all.”
At her fake pout, he laughed, amazed at how much he enjoyed hanging out with this woman. He stroked a finger up her bare arm, relishing the way she shivered under his touch. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re one hell of a distraction.”
She gave him a long look. “Good. I want to be.”
Hale pulled her close, then realized they’d stopped near a Brookstone, and the gadgets and gizmos in the window caught his attention. Tugging on her hand, he led her into the store.
“What are we doing?”
“Taking care of you,” he said. And that’s all he was doing.
Just being a Protector. A little preventative medicine. At least, that’s what he told himself as he searched for a repair kit to leave in Tracy’s car. He found one easily enough, a little kit with jumper cables, some goo that filled up flat tires, a jack, and some other paraphernalia. He schlepped it all to the cash register as Tracy looked on, her eyes wide.
“For me?”
“It’s either this or buy you a new car.” He was tempted to do that, actually, but he doubted she’d accept.
“Oh.” A frown creased her forehead, then cleared and she raised herself up on her tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you.”
His heart twisted, and he reminded himself that he was simply protecting her. That was all. His job. “You’re welcome.” After he’d paid up, they wandered out of the store. He looked around, needing to shake this flood of emotions and get back on track with his seduction plan. “So, what do you want to do now?” he asked.
She looked amused. “You asked me out, remember? I’m looking to you to provide me with a whole evening’s worth of entertainment.”
“Well, yeah. But it’s still early. What I have planned for tonight will blow your socks off.” At the moment, he didn’t have anything planned. “But I haven’t had any time to come up with something equally fabulous for the afternoon.”
She leaned closer, and his body tightened in response to her warmth. “No? Too bad. Guess you’ll have to think fast.”
“Okay. I’ve got it. The perfect afternoon’s entertainment.”
Tilting her head, she looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked. “You do think fast.”
He nodded. “It’s a little game I like to play called Guess What I’m Thinking.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, and he considered leaning down to kiss it.
“What do I get if I guess right?” she asked.
“Anything you want, sweetheart. Anything at all.”
“Really?” She looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked. “Cross my heart.”
“I think I like this game.” She licked her lips. “If I win.”
“Don’t worry about that. If we decide to play, I think we can safely say the fix is in.” In one quick motion, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
She gasped, her look of pleased surprise giving him more satisfaction than anything in a long time. “Something I can help you with, mister?”
“Actually, there’s something I can help you with.”
“Oh?” Again, that sexy little twitch at the corner of her mouth. “And what exactly is that?”
“You’ve got this thing, right here.” He traced the corner of her lip with the tip of his index finger, barely grazing her skin. A low moan settled in her throat, and he knew he’d touched a nerve. Not wanting to threaten the moment, he urged her closer, until their hips met and he had to fight the desire to grind against her and lose himself in passion.
“A thing?” she repeated, her voice breathy. With her tongue, she traced the edge of her mouth, until she caught the edge of his finger. “This thing?” she teased.
Almost as if to punish him, she turned her head, then drew his finger into her mouth. The combination of the sweet, wet warmth and the sucking sensation nearly did him in. His body hardened, this woman affecting him stronger and faster than any he’d touched. And he’d touched plenty.
He groaned, resisting the urge to rock against her. Hell, more than that, he was fighting the urge to pull her skirt up and sink himself into her. She might like it—from the way she acted, it was a good bet she’d be as enthusiastic as he was—but outside a mall on a Saturday afternoon was hardly the place for a close encounter. No matter how desperate he was, she deserved better.
Still, pressed together as they were, she undoubtedly knew the reaction she’d caused. And she didn’t show the slightest signs of relenting.
Well, as they said, no good deed goes unpunished. And he intended to punish her in the most erotic of ways. Before she could protest, he withdrew his finger and leaned in close. He heard and felt her startled intake of breath as he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Right here,” he murmured. “This little twitch. But I think I can take care of it for you.”
“You can?” More breath than voice, her whisper tickled his ear. “How?”
“A unique new therapy. Surprise therapy.” And with that, he pressed his mouth hard against hers, taking advantage of her surprise to dip his tongue
inside and taste her sweetness. She responded greedily, her arms going automatically around his neck, her mouth opening further to allow him better access.
Rational thought abandoned him. Somewhere, in the thinking part of his mind, he knew he should be rejoicing. He’d set out to seduce this woman, and so far he was right on target. But he didn’t care. Not about the mission. Not that she was mortal. Not about anything except losing himself to her.
Oh, yes. Belt or not, this woman had definitely bewitched him.
20
“Mmmm.” Even to her own ears, Tracy’s low murmur seemed dreamy. She was far gone, and she knew it. “If this is the appetizer, I’m not sure I’ll survive the main course.”
He pulled back just slightly, but from the look in his eyes, she knew Hale didn’t enjoy the increased distance between them any more than she did. “Maybe we should stop. I’d hate for you to fill up before we get to dessert.”
“I guess that depends what’s for dessert.”
“Pure, hot decadence,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck.
Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, giving him better access. “Decadence, huh? You certainly know the way to a woman’s heart.”
“Sweetheart, that dish is my specialty.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what Deena and Lane said.” She spoke the words with a chuckle in her voice, but he seemed to tense anyway, and she wondered if she’d struck a nerve. Presumably, he was afraid she wanted some sort of long-term commitment. An honest fear, she supposed, since that’s what most women wanted.
But right now, she didn’t. She was having too much fun exploring her newfound confidence. Plus, the thought of anything permanent with Hale . . . well, really. She was just flattered he wanted her for now. Even if she had fantasies of something longer-lasting, she knew it wouldn’t really happen. Just because he did something nice for her by buying the car kit, didn’t mean they were establishing any sort of relationship. He was just being kind. Considering she was just Tracy and he was Hale—the object of desire for women all over the world—forever was pretty much out of the question. Wasn’t it?
“So, where are we going?”
He stroked her cheek. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
Amused, she said, “I can wait. I’m patient.” Then, lifting herself on her tiptoes, she whispered in his ear, “How are we going to get there?”
“We’re walking.”
Walking? In Los Angeles? No one walked in Los Angeles. “We’re not near anything. Where are we walking to?”
“The Century Plaza Hotel.” He held out his arm for her. “I thought I’d buy you a drink.”
Oh, that sounded good. “I can handle a drink.”
“Can you handle a walk?”
“Sure.”
The hotel was just up the road from the mall, across the street from the twin towers that had housed the pretend offices of Remington Steele years ago. Tracy supposed that if the neighborhood was good enough for Pierce Brosnan, it was good enough for her.
She and Hale strolled in comfortable silence until they hit Century Park East. Feeling devilish, she took his hand. Not exactly a wanton action, but it made her feel bold and provocative nonetheless. When he squeezed her fingers, it made her feel light-headed.
As they approached the hotel, a doorman opened the ornate glass door, and they walked through into a lobby of tasteful opulence. “You have a room here? I’m impressed.”
“Well, tonight I have a room here.”
She cocked her head. “Tonight?”
“Tomorrow I’m in a house—your house. Remember?”
She laughed. “Right.” Then she swallowed as the situation hit home. She was alone with Hale in a four-star hotel.
The situation was the ultimate in decadence . . . and was delightful.
He nodded toward the lobby bar. “Why don’t you grab us some seats while I check my messages.”
She agreed, and quickly headed off in that direction.
Hale arrived at the table she’d procured at the same time the waitress arrived. “Champagne, please,” he said. “Dom. Put it on my room tab.”
Tracy started to argue—a bottle of Dom wasn’t exactly cheap—but then she managed to keep her mouth shut. If this man wanted to buy her champagne, she was going to let him.
The small, round marble table provided almost no buffer between them, and when she scooted her chair closer, her breath caught as her knee bumped against his. Instinctively, she started to pull away, then felt his hand close over the thin cotton material of her sundress. For a fleeting moment, she wished she’d worn a miniskirt.
His fingers traced a circular pattern on her knee, and she lost herself to the sensation until somewhere in the back of her brain she realized he was talking.
Oh. Words. She squinted, trying to will her mind to listen. “—about being an animal trainer.”
Work stuff. Small talk. That was good. She could talk about work on autopilot and still let part of her brain get lost in the wonder of his touch.
“I love it. I told you. I’ve always loved animals. And I’ve always loved Hollywood, too. My grandmother was an early film star—Tahlula Tannin.” Hale nodded in recognition, and she continued. “Anyway, when my grandmother was older, she starred in a sitcom that had an animal cast. Mel worked for the company that did the training, and I hung out on the set.”
“So that’s how you met Mel?”
His fingers were still stroking, and it took her a second to realize it had been a question. “What? Oh! Yes, in a roundabout way. I went and worked for a vet for a while, then for another local company that trained animals. Last year, when Mel bought Paws In Production from her boss, she hired me. We’d been friends, but once we started working together, we became even closer.”
Stroke, stroke. The man’s touch was driving her crazy. She gnawed on her lower lip, fighting the urge to leap over the table and demand more.
“She sounds like a good friend.”
“Oh, she is. Once my grandmother died, I pretty much just had Mel.”
“You and your grandmother were close?” The stroking stopped, and Tracy mentally breathed a sigh of relief. She tried to get her thoughts to return to a state of semi-normalcy.
“Oh, yeah.” She’d tried to describe her relationship with her grandmother before, but never managed to find words adequate. “She raised me, you know. She was Mom and Dad and best friend all rolled into one. She let me get away with murder in some ways even while keeping me on a strict leash in the important ones.” She blinked back fresh tears. “Sorry. The whole thing makes me sentimental.”
“Don’t apologize for loving your family.”
The smile she flashed him felt weak, but her whole heart was in it. “My grandmother was wonderful.” Leaning sideways from the table, she pointed to her belt, wanting to explain her grandmother’s odd gift to this man. “This was hers. I found it recently.” She shrugged. “That’s why I’ve been wearing it so much lately.”
Instead of looking bored, Hale seemed genuinely interested. “It’s beautiful. Antique?”
She nodded. “I should probably frame it. Maybe in a shadow box or something. I’m stupid to wear it; I couldn’t bear to lose it. And I guess it must be worth something, since that guy you saved me from wanted it. Maybe it’s real gold.”
“Your grandmother willed it to you? Interesting legacy.”
“Even more interesting since I just found it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was in a box in the attic. All the specific stuff mentioned in her will was inventoried by the lawyers. But this wasn’t in the will. I mean, it was, since I inherited everything that didn’t go to anyone else. But it wasn’t a specific bequest.” She frowned, remembering the engraving. “And there was a message, so she definitely meant for me to have it.”
Hale’s blue eyes were bright as he leaned closer. “A message?”
“Yeah. Like a riddle. Something l
ike, Be careful what you wish for. And it was addressed to me.” She shook her head, not intending to get lost in that quagmire again. “Not like my grandmother at all. She was very up-front. Riddles weren’t exactly her thing.”
“Interesting.” He stroked her hand. “Why don’t you let me borrow it for a few days? I know some people in the antique business. Maybe they can give you some information about it.” He looked deep into her eyes. “And you know you can trust me. I’ll take good care of it.”
Tracy hesitated. She was curious about the belt. If Hale knew someone who could tell her its history, or even what it was worth, it might be a good idea to let him take it.
Her hand slipped to her waist, and her fingers closed over the clasp. But she couldn’t bring herself to unfasten the thing.
Odd.
She tried once more. Again, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Sorry,” she finally said, not quite sure why she was hesitating, but willing to trust her instincts. “I just can’t bear to part with it. Its value to me is sentimental, you know.” She grinned, feeling a little foolish. “That, and it seems to give me a jolt of confidence. Pop psychology, you know.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it’s nice of you, but no, thanks. I’d rather keep it close to me. I’d be devastated if it got lost.”
He nodded, though he looked a little disappointed he couldn’t help. “I understand.”
“What I really want is to know the story behind her message, and I don’t think you can help me there.”
“Probably not,” he admitted. “There must have been things about your grandmother’s life you weren’t aware of.”
“I suppose.” She munched on a pretzel as she considered the proposition. “When you get right down to it, I guess, everyone has secrets. Don’t you think?”
“I know they do.”
She leaned closer. “Yeah? Well, what are your secrets?”
“I already told you the biggest one.” He grinned. “I’m a superhero.”
A laugh escaped her. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“Forgot?” His face morphed into an expression of mock-offense. Then he held up an arm and flexed his muscles. “How could you forget?”