by J. Kenner
“Now,” he whispered, the one simple word arousing her even more.
He didn’t give her time to respond, just grasped her hips and lifted. She arched back, then cried out as he brought her down, maneuvering his hips up to impale her on him. They moved together, lost in a delicious haze of passion, their bodies slick with sweat despite the coolness of the room.
A frenzy of primitive urges welled inside Tracy, and she pressed against him, seeking a satisfaction that she knew only Hale could bring. She focused on the sensations ripping through her, wishing she could capture the moment as he drew her nearer and nearer to some exquisite pinnacle.
Mentally, she reached out, her mind seeking release as much as her body, and when her climax finally came, its force seemed enough to tear her from his arms. She held on tight, not wanting to ever let go, as waves of pleasure crested over her.
When she could breathe normally again, she curled up next to him, her fingers drawing patterns on his chest as her eyes drifted shut under the lure of sleep.
And as he stroked her back, whispering her name, Tracy knew she’d found her own little slice of heaven.
Tracy snuggled closer in her sleep, and without thinking, Hale tightened his arm around her shoulder, content to just lie there and look at her. They hadn’t made it out of the hotel last night, had made love throughout the night, yet he wasn’t sated, and it was everything he could do not to wake Tracy up and take her once again. He wanted to lose himself in her over and over, again and ag—
Then he remembered. Protection. They hadn’t used any protection. He never did that—forgot. Ever. The fear of having a child—worse, of having a half-mortal child—had always kept him vigilant. Hale simply didn’t lose himself in the heat of the moment. Not like that. Not like he had with Tracy.
He ran his hands through his hair. Hera help him, with Tracy, he’d completely let go. He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. He’d lost himself in her. He’d never lost himself to a woman before, but he’d gone over the edge with this one. Willingly. Boldly. Over and over again.
Maybe it was lust. Maybe it was chemistry. Maybe it was those damn pesky pheromones doing their little thing. He didn’t know and, frankly, he didn’t care. No matter what the cause, the bottom line was the same. The woman had gotten under his skin. He was going to be thinking about her day and night. Wondering what she was thinking. Focusing on her instead of his duty.
It wasn’t a situation Hale wanted to be in. It wasn’t a situation he could let himself be in.
He needed to extricate himself. Needed some distance.
Needed to let her know in no uncertain terms that what they had going here was just sex.
No matter how much he might be craving more.
On the other hand, no matter how much he wanted to untangle himself, he did have to admit his seduction scheme had worked. They’d connected—and he couldn’t just walk away and jeopardize the mission. Which left him in a bit of a quandary. What in Hades was he going to do now?
For a few more minutes, he let himself enjoy watching her. Her hair fanned across the pillow, framing her face as she drifted in the peace of sleep. A smile touched her lips, and he wondered if she was dreaming of him.
No. No sentiment. Just practicality and the mission. His training. His job. His life as a Protector.
Bracing himself, he woke her up.
Her sleepy smile almost dissolved the steel of his conviction, and he fought the temptation to make love with her again. But he needed some distance if he was going to figure out this mess, and he held fast. “Want some breakfast?”
“No breakfast in bed?” she asked, rolling closer and sliding her hand onto his thigh.
His body tightened in response, and he had to force himself to move away. “The brunch in the cafe’s supposed to be great.”
Her brow furrowed, a little V appearing above her nose as she pulled her hand back. She must have recognized the change in him, yet she didn’t argue, just nodded and slipped out of bed to throw on the sundress she’d left hanging over the armchair. “Then let’s go have breakfast.” And that was that. She didn’t try to persuade him to remain in bed, to . . .
He reminded himself that this was for the best. Hadn’t she told Mel just a few short days ago that all she wanted was a fling?
She had. And that’s all Hale had wanted, too. He hadn’t wanted the kind of relationship where you wake up in the morning craving the other person, where food becomes secondary. Where everything becomes secondary.
But now . . .
Now, what he wanted didn’t jibe with what he wanted. He wanted a fling. Down and dirty sex. A few nights of doing the wild thing with a woman who made him feel like he’d never felt before.
Unfortunately, at the same time, he wanted Tracy. All of her. Forever. And it wasn’t something he wanted to want.
She slipped on her shoes then turned to him, her face tight and her eyes confused and sad. The look almost killed him. “I’m ready,” she said.
He nodded, fighting the urge to cross the room and pull her into his arms. “Let’s go.”
They headed down, and when they reached the lobby, her face lit up. She grabbed his arm. “Can you wait here for one second?” she asked, then headed across the room where she embraced a tall, blond man with an aristocratic nose wearing perfectly ironed slacks. Hale hated him on the spot.
The man returned Tracy’s smile, his pleasure at seeing her coming through loud and clear, even from across the lobby where Hale was seething.
Their laughter drifted toward him, and Hale seethed some more.
They were flirting. Flirting! The knowledge ate into his stomach like acid, and he cringed, put-off by how much it hurt to see Tracy flirting with another man. She’d said she only wanted a fling, and now he had proof positive that she meant it. Why else would she flirt with another man in front of him?
Well, wonderful. That’s what he wanted, too. Hell, that’s what he’d intended to remind her. He should be grateful. There was just sex between them. Nothing more. Any bond that was between them was physical—sexual. Not emotional. That’s what they both wanted. Right? Right.
His jaw tightened as he focused on his mission. He’d parlay their intense sexual connection into persuasion, just like he’d been planning. No problem. The mission was perfectly on track. And that, of course, was good.
Even so, he fought a scowl as she headed back his way. What in Hades was wrong with him?
“That was Troy,” she said, although he was barely listening. “His grandfather and my grandmother used to star in movies together. I thought he’d moved to London. What a great surprise seeing him again.”
“Hmmm.” Hale was in no mood to talk about other men, and he kept quiet as he led her into the restaurant.
Some other cover models Hale recognized from shoots were at a corner booth, nibbling on dry toast and sipping Evian. There was probably a shoot going on somewhere around here. Automatically, he held up one hand and gave them a quick wave and a winning smile. A wiry redhead who’d appeared recently on the cover of Cosmopolitan winked at him, then stood up to come over.
Hale fought a cringe. He’d reacted out of instinct, waving to the girls, but now he felt a twinge of guilt at showing any sort of interest in other women with Tracy by his side. He quashed the feeling immediately. Tracy didn’t care. Why should she? She’d just made it perfectly clear that this was just a fling, so the fact that there might be other women he knew or wanted should mean absolutely nothing to her. They were both free as birds. Just two consenting adults having a good time.
Too bad he could only see having this kind of good time with Tracy. But that was something he intended to get over, and get over quick.
So, it was a good thing that she’d flirted with Troy and he’d waved to the models. He wanted to make it absolutely clear to all concerned—including himself—that he and Tracy weren’t an item. They’d spent a fabulous, mind-numbing, night together, forged a physical bond like
he’d never experienced. But that was it. That was all. Just sex. Done. End of story. And when they got back to the room, they’d have a few repeat performances. Tighten the seduction up a bit. And then he’d ask her for the belt. Voila! Mission accomplished.
The model—Amber or something like that—sashayed over. “Hale, darling.” She leaned in, presenting him with an air kiss to each cheek. “Kiss, kiss.” He took her hand, determined to be just as free and easy as he’d been for the last thirty-some-odd years of his life. She aimed an invitation in the form of a smile his way, then turned to Tracy and squeezed into the booth next to him, her hip brushing up against his. “Who’s your little friend?” she asked.
“Tracy trains the animals on a sitcom I’m doing some work on,” he said. Not entirely true, but it was easier than explaining Elmer.
Amber perked up, probably smelling a back door into an acting career. Tracy didn’t look nearly as pleased. In fact, she’d gone from looking irritated to downright pissed.
“I just love working with animals,” Amber said, turning her full attention Tracy’s way.
“Lucky for you,” Tracy said, shooting Hale a scathing glare. “I’m sure a lot of the men you work with qualify.”
“Oh,” Amber said, apparently not hearing the sarcasm. “I suppose a few of them are, but—”
“If you’ll excuse me.” Before Hale could catch her, Tracy was up and walking toward the restaurant exit.
“Tracy!” he called. But he forced himself to stay put.
She turned back. “Don’t get up.” Her tight smile lacked any of the warmth of last night. “I’ll see you later.” Her eyes met those of the model next to him. “I’m just popping back up to our room to get something I forgot.”
“Men are pigs,” Mel said, her voice echoing over the phone line. “That’s all there is to it.”
Utterly miserable, Tracy nodded. With one hand, she pressed her cell phone against her ear as she crouched in the handicapped stall in the hotel lobby bathroom. “You got that right.” She pulled off about five yards of toilet paper and wiped her eyes, then blew her nose.
“Aw, honey. You did say you only wanted a fling.”
Tracy sniffled. “But I never told him that. And who cares what I said, anyway? Did I sign some pact in blood? Aren’t I allowed to change my mind?”
A pause, then. “Did you change your mind?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” And she didn’t. Being with Hale made her feel lighter—happier—than she’d felt in a long, long time. With him, she didn’t feel alone anymore. She tried to explain to Mel, but wasn’t sure that the words were working. “At first, I really thought I just wanted a wild night. But little by little . . .” She trailed off with a sigh. “Mel, he brought me to the ocean. I thought . . . I hoped . . .”
“Sounds like you’ve really fallen for the guy.”
Tracy released a groan saturated with misery. “Yeah.” She paused. “Or maybe I’ve just fallen for the fact that he seems to like me. It’s not like I’ve had a long and storied love life.” She sighed. “Until recently. The thing is, lately there seem to be a lot of men interested. But as soon as I show any interest in return, these guys start blowing hot and cold. First Leon, now Hale.” She cringed, hating the thought that one was anything like the other. But the facts were the facts.
“And he’s moving in,” she added. “I can’t believe I agreed to let him move in. How am I supposed to live under the same roof with him?”
“Well, like you said, it’s a big house. You’ll probably never even run into each other.”
Tracy rolled her eyes. “You’re not helping.”
“Sorry. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think. Maybe he was just being polite. You said he knew that model, right?”
She shrugged, then realized Mel couldn’t see her. “Maybe. But, no. You weren’t there. I slept with the guy. I’m now qualified to tell who he’s flirting with.” She pressed her head against the cool metal of the stall. “Oh, Mel. You’re right. I’ve fallen for this guy, even if he is a jerk. What am I going to do?”
“I don’t know, kid. I really don’t know.”
Resigned, Tracy clicked off, then hung out in the stall a little longer. It was a bit weird, sure, but it was the one place she knew she wouldn’t run into Hale.
She should head back up to his room and leave him a note, but at the moment, all she really wanted was to go home. She had her purse, so it wasn’t like there was anything keeping her here. With that thought, she slipped out of the bathroom, hugged the wall until she got to the main entrance, stepped out into the light, and then headed for the taxi stand.
Five minutes later, she was still waiting for a taxi.
“Sorry, miss,” the bellman said. “One should be along shortly.”
“You need a ride?”
Twisting around, she looked up to face Hale’s cousin. The guy who’d said he was producing the film that needed an animal trainer. He was standing next to her, smiling.
“Oh. Hi. Um . . .” For the life of her, she couldn’t remember his name.
“Mordi.” He held out a hand. “I’m happy to give you a ride.”
His hand closed around hers, warm and strong, but all she could think about was comparing it to Hale’s. Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them back.
“Tracy?” He frowned. “Are you okay?”
Sniffing and blinking, she nodded. “Sorry. It’s been a long night, and an even longer morning.” She conjured a smile from somewhere. “Yes. Thank you. I’d love a ride.”
Finally, a break! Mordi practically leapt for joy as the valet pulled up with his Porsche. He opened the door for Tracy and she slid in, still looking miserable. And damned if he didn’t feel sorry for her.
Shaking his head, he walked around to the driver’s side, tipped the valet, then headed out. He needed to take advantage of this moment. Clearly she’d had some sort of tiff with Hale—and, when you thought about it, what reasonable-minded woman wouldn’t? The guy was way too full of himself where the ladies were concerned.
Mordi grinned. This was his opportunity. His break. This was his moment to prove himself once and for all.
Determined, he shifted gears and headed for the freeway, trying to drive casually. No sense alerting the girl that anything was up.
After a few seconds of silence, he turned to her. “So where are we going?”
“My house, please.”
He nodded. Time to start his Oprah-esque routine. Get to know the girl. Get into her heart. Get the belt. Trying out his most charming smile, he turned and closed his hand over hers. “You just relax and enjoy the ride.”
Dammit! Hale stormed through his hotel room, searching for Tracy—to no avail. He’d rushed up here to find his hotel card key still didn’t work, and she wasn’t waiting for him. She’d lied. She’d said she was coming up to the room, but she’d lied.
And now she was somewhere in Los Angeles, completely unprotected.
All because he’d acted like an ass. She’d seen an old friend, and he’d lost touch with reality. She hadn’t been flirting; he’d just let his emotions overcome his common sense. He’d been a jerk and, worse, he’d hurt Tracy.
For the first time in his career, he’d screwed up a mission, and damned if he didn’t now what to do now. He needed to find Tracy. He needed to make sure she was safe. To make sure Uncle H and his band of creepy Henchmen didn’t get to her. Hell, he needed to hold her in his arms.
And the belt. Oh, yeah. He had to get the belt, too.
Dammit, dammit, dammit!
He was still pacing and cursing when his cell phone rang, the tone announcing that the call was coming in over the Council network.
“Yes?”
“It’s Zoe. Where are you?”
“At a hotel.”
“Is Tracy with you?”
“She skipped out.” He closed his eyes, silently hoping she was simply walking off steam.
Zoe sucked in a loud breath.
“What is it, Zo?”
“Get over here now. I’m at Tracy’s house with Lane.”
She hung up before he could question her, but from the tone in her voice, he knew better than to argue. Fearing something had happened to Tracy, he started for the door. He was just about to pull it shut behind him when he noticed it—the belt. Draped over the armchair in the corner, just where she’d left it last night.
If he took it, would he be risking his powers? He wasn’t stealing it, but he was taking it without Tracy’s knowledge. Did that count?
At the moment, he wished Aphrodite had written a rule manual. He really didn’t have a grasp of this damn thing’s tricks. Of course, if Tracy was just in the gift shop, it was a moot point. She would ask for it back. But if she’d had a run-in with a bad guy of the Hieronymous sort . . .
Hale needed to know what was going on before he could make a reasonable decision.
Rushing to the elevator, he was down to the lobby in no time. Of course, just being there didn’t exactly do him any good, and he swiveled around, trying to decide where to start his quest.
He settled on the front desk, but no one there remembered seeing Tracy. After trying the restaurant, the bar, and the gift shop, he finally popped his head into the ladies’ room. That little endeavor earned him a couple of nasty looks, but no Tracy.
It wasn’t until he stepped outside and talked to the bellman that he finally cut a break.
“Cute little thing in a red sundress?” said the lanky grayhaired hotel employee, who was probably pushing sixty. He leaned against the bell stand. “Yes, sir. I remember her coming in with you, and I remember her leaving with that other gentleman.” He leaned closer, as if about to engage in some secret divulgence. Either that or he was angling for a tip. “Not a bad-looking guy, but I gotta say, I don’t know what she saw in him compared to you.” He puffed up his chest “Now, if she’d left you for me . . .”