Because You Love Me ; Journey to My Heart

by Terra Little

  “Are you laughing at me? Seriously?” His shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I was traumatized.” He laughed harder.

  “I’m sorry,” he said between rounds. “But it doesn’t seem like the problem is closed spaces. It sounds like you might be jinxed and also you have bad taste in friends.”

  The giggle that came out of her mouth was both self-deprecating and sexy as hell. “In my friend’s defense, we were both drinking, but...” She stopped short and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, who am I kidding? In my defense, too, but that’s beside the point. The point is, you’re probably right. I do seem to be the common denominator, don’t I?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” They shared a chuckle. “And you know, as much as I’m enjoying watching those lovely legs of yours strut back and forth, since you are the common denominator, I’d feel much better about being stuck in an elevator shaft, on a haunted elevator, if you would please sit down.”

  “I’m not sitting on the floor,” she shot back, still pacing. “And stop looking at my legs.”

  As if that were possible. He was a man, and really, what else was there to do right now but look? She was a gorgeous woman and he had a sneaking suspicion that she knew it. Built like a brick house, with jiggly, palm-sized breasts, a two-handed grip of a waistline and a butt that jiggled almost as much as her breasts, she obviously dressed to be seen and admired, so he looked his fill. On another woman, the simple wrap dress that she was strutting around in would’ve been appropriate for Sunday-morning service. But on her, it might as well have been flesh-toned Saran Wrap because it matched her creamy caramel complexion nearly perfectly and left very little to his suddenly lurid imagination. Honestly, as far as things to look at went, those smooth, shapely legs of hers were just the tip of the iceberg.

  Wondering what the chances were of this woman and Blythe somehow being related, possibly even long-lost sisters, he slipped his glasses back over his eyes and sighed. “You’re joking, right?” She dimpled prettily, and behind his lenses, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. The move was classic Blythe Nunley.

  “Weeellll,” she drawled, obviously pleased with herself as she stopped to strike a pose that turned out a stiletto-clad heel and showcased her taut calf muscles. “Not to toot my own horn, but—”

  “Of course not. Why would someone like you toot your own horn?” Her head snapped back on her neck and her eyes widened, but whatever she’d been about to say in response was abruptly cut off by his chirping cell phone. “Excuse me,” he said, unclipping it from its holster and turning his attention to the oversize screen. “Good news. We’re next in line to be rescued...within the half hour.” Irritated all over again by the delay, he returned the phone to its holster and met her eyes. “Now, what were we talking about?”

  “I think you were just about to finish insulting me.” Shifting to face him, she crossed her arms underneath her breasts and took a step in his direction. The pointed toes of her stiletto pumps stopped just shy of his crossed feet, and her gaze narrowed in on his. “Am I right?”

  Secretly swooning, Cooper tipped his head back and stared up into her frosty, amber-colored eyes. He was wondering if she was aware that her nipples were hard and straining through the fabric of her dress. “Trust me, ma’am, insulting you is the last thing on my mind right now.” Certainly not when getting the hell away from her as soon as possible was the first.

  In his current state of mind, she was a sensual distraction that he could’ve definitely done without. Lack of sex had his eyes wandering to places that they shouldn’t be, that ordinarily they wouldn’t have—from her breasts, to the play of muscles in her calves when she moved and the perpetual pucker of her ridiculously suckable, plum-tinted lips. To her bare ring finger and the tiny, sparkling diamond piercing her left nostril.

  From where he was sitting, she was lit from behind by the overhead florescent lighting, casting a glow around her shapely silhouette and an angelic halo around the shock of wild, curly, copper-streaked hair framing her stunning face. Yet every time she flicked her jewel-toned, feline eyes at him, his cock growled and alarm bells went off in his head. Nothing about her suggested piety or vows of chastity; instead he was instantly reminded of the insanity of his weakness for beautiful women.

  The woman standing in front of him wasn’t Blythe Nunley, not by a long shot, but something told Cooper that she was just as—if not even more—dangerous to his drama-free way of life. Once bitten, he was definitely twice shy.

  Thanks, but no thanks.

  Still, though. She was pretty, like a trinket that was nice to look at but best admired from a safe distance.

  “Good, because you don’t know the story behind these legs. I worked hard for them and I earned them fair and square.”

  He thought about what she’d said and grinned. “Zumba classes?”

  She stopped short and sucked in a deep, seemingly fortifying breath. “No. Spin classes,” she admitted sheepishly as her shoulders slumped guiltily and a shy smile took her mouth. Charmed despite himself, Cooper—his cock tightening—returned her smile. “And maybe a few water-aerobics classes, too. But it was still intensive, backbreaking work.”

  “And it definitely paid off, if I may say so.”

  “Coming from someone like you, Harry Potter, that really means a lot.”

  Zinged right between the eyes, just as she had no doubt intended, his brows shot up just as the car shuddered and then stabilized, and the panel lit up again. A few seconds later, his cell phone chirped and he reached for it blindly, still holding her amused gaze with a slightly offended one of his own. It rang in his hand, surprising them both. He touched a finger to the screen. “Hold that thought.” Putting the phone to his ear, he said, “Yes?” He was so busy watching her take out her own cell phone, try to make a call and then curse when she couldn’t that he barely heard a word the agent on the other end was saying to him. Something about them working on the elevator right now and having them out soon. “Okay, thanks for letting me know,” he said and ended the call.

  She looked worried. “I’m sure everything is fine,” he said, rolling to his feet and straightening his clothes. “Your husband is probably standing in the corridor right now, sweating bullets and praying nonstop for your safe return.”

  She dropped her cell back in her clutch, snapped it shut and tucked it once more underneath her arm, chuckling pitifully. “Is that your way of asking me if I’m married? Because if it is, I have to say, it’s pretty terrible. But for the record, I’m not.”

  He shook out his suit jacket and shrugged into it before picking up his attaché case and slinging the leather strap over his shoulder. She had turned away to give him some privacy when he’d gotten to his feet and began adjusting himself, and now he stepped up next to her, where she stood facing the doors, and slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. Even in heels and with big hair, the top of her head just barely cleared his shoulder. She was shorter and curvier than the women he was typically attracted to, and, based on her attire, much more free-spirited, but none of that stopped him from wondering if she tasted as delicious as she looked.

  Okay, so obviously you’ve lost your mind, right, Talbot?

  “You know, that Harry Potter remark stung a little bit,” he told her, staring straight ahead. “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

  She giggled. “You thought no such thing. But if it helps, I really didn’t mean to insult Harry Potter, even though you really do remind me of him.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “I think it’s the bow tie and suspenders,” she mused softly. “And you both have nice lips.” Cooper felt her eyes on the side of his face and turned his head to look down at her.

  Big mistake, Talbot.

  “Yours are nicer, though,” she added, seemingly as an afterthought, and he flushed to the roots of his hair.

  “Thank you but that doesn’t help.
” She lifted a brow, then opened her mouth to speak, and he put up a hand. “Buuut... I’m willing to give you another chance to redeem yourself.”

  “Oh, really? And just how might I do that?”

  “Well, since I’m here on business and this is my first time visiting St. Louis,” he said just as the car shuddered again and then slowly began ascending. “Maybe you could show me around the city a little bit and then join me for dinner afterward.”

  She looked surprised. “Are you asking me out?”

  “You know I am.” She was a good actress, but she wasn’t that good. She’d been staring at his lips for so long that he knew the answer to his next question long before he asked it. “Are you interested?”

  “Um...” The bell signaling their arrival to the fifth floor sounded again, and she jumped as if she’d been caught doing something naughty. They were still staring at each other when the doors slid open.

  “Dr. Talbot!” a deep, frantic voice boomed as soon as they did. “Over here, sir.”

  And just like that, Cooper thought cynically, their captivity was over and his chances of talking her into wrapping those lovely legs of hers around his neck went up in smoke.

  Back to reality you go, Romeo, the little angel on his right shoulder drawled.

  Kiss my ass, the one on his left snarled back.

  As soon as they stepped off the elevator, Agent Bearden cleared a path through the small crowd that had gathered in the corridor outside the elevators and hurried toward him. He was one of the two rookie officers that Cooper had brought along to Missouri with him, as part of their field-training experience. He spotted the other one, a petite blonde with multiple food allergies, several feet away, and nodded with satisfaction when he saw that the show had gone on in his absence. This one, he recalled as he met Bearden halfway and took the lead, had an annoying habit of ending almost everything that he said to him with sir and was currently on the fence about whether or not to get rid of his dreadlocks. He had talked nonstop about it during the flight, until Cooper was ready to grab a pair of scissors and chop them off himself.

  “Glad you’re okay, sir,” Bearden said, reversing directions. “As you can see, we’ve already detained the subject but she hasn’t been formally Mirandized yet. I thought it would be best to wait until you arrived with the arrest warrant.”

  “Good work, Bearden,” Cooper said, reaching into an inside breast pocket and taking out a copy of the arrest warrant. “I’ll take care of Mirandizing her. Good work, Agent Bidwell,” he told the other agent as they approached. Then he turned his attention to Shannon Bridgeway. She didn’t look very happy about the handcuffs around her wrists or the restraining hand around her forearm, but both were standard procedure. “Shannon Bridgeway, I’m—”

  “What in the hell is going on here?”

  Cooper stopped short, surprised to find the woman from the elevator shooing him aside and positioning herself between him and Shannon like a human shield. When both of his agents moved to block her, his gaze left hers long enough to silently order them to stand down before zooming back to hers and locking in. “What are you doing?”

  “I was just about to ask you the same thing!” she raged up at him. “What are you doing and why is my friend in handcuffs?”

  “Your friend?”

  “Yes, my friend! Why is she being arrested?”

  He reached up and scratched a spot on the back of his head thoughtfully, took a breath for patience. “I’m sorry, but what did you say your name was again?” Like he didn’t already know. Talk about bad luck.

  “My name is Olivia Carrington. Who are you?” He knew the second she realized what was happening, because her eyes widened in shock and the expression on her face turned thunderous. “Agent Talbot?”

  “In the flesh, except it’s Special Agent in Charge Talbot, and I have a warrant to detain Shannon Bridgeway.”

  Her eyes popped. “On what grounds?”

  “On the grounds that she may be in possession of information that is material to an active federal case. Information, I might add, that could possibly have been obtained days ago, and without all of this fuss, had you just handed Miss Bridgeway the phone when I called, Miss Carrington.” They stared at each other and, in her eyes, he saw his fantasy of bedding her crash and burn.

  He sighed.

  “I told you that she didn’t want to speak with you.” Sparks were shooting out of Olivia’s eyes when she folded her arms underneath her breasts and closed the short distance between them, putting herself in his personal space in a silent challenge that he motioned for his interning agents to ignore, if for no other reason than from his new vantage point, he could see straight down the front of her dress. She tipped her head back to look up into his eyes and he sucked in a sharp breath. “I told you when you called that she had nothing to say to the FBI.”

  “And I warned you that this would happen if you insisted on blocking access to Miss Bridgeway. As a matter of fact, I was tempted to bring along an obstruction warrant for your arrest as well, but now that we’ve met, I’m glad I didn’t. However, I am going to have to insist that you step aside.”

  Chapter 6

  Speechless, Olivia watched helplessly as Cooper and his minions whisked a shell-shocked Shannon away from the growing crowd of spectators in the elevator atrium and rushed her down the corridor in the opposite direction. Left with no choice but to follow them, she fell in step behind Cooper and kicked her stilettos into overdrive to keep up with his long-legged stride. Before long she was practically skipping to keep pace.

  “Is all of this really necessary, Agent Talbot?” she hissed under her breath at his back. He didn’t break stride, nor did he acknowledge that he’d heard the question; instead he turned a corner abruptly and sent her into a skid. “Very funny,” she murmured when she caught up to him again. “I almost broke my neck back there!” Still nothing. She picked up her pace. “Seriously, Agent Talbot? Just a moment ago you were complimenting me on my lovely—” He stopped short and she plowed into him from behind, planting a lip-gloss-laden kiss right between his shoulder blades before bouncing off him and steadying herself. “Oops.”

  “Seat Miss Bridgeway in interview room three,” he barked at one of his minions. Then he was reaching for a doorknob along the wall to his immediate right. “I’ll join you shortly,” he said, swinging the door open and spinning around to confront Olivia. “You. Come with me, please.”

  As if she really had a choice in the matter, Olivia thought as Cooper ushered her inside a dark room and slammed the door shut behind them. A second later the overhead florescent lights flickered on, illuminating a small, windowless office, two wooden desks that were set up to face each other and barely enough room left to move around in. They locked eyes and stared.

  “Look,” Cooper began gravely, pointing one long, stiff finger in Olivia’s direction. “You’re pissed, I get that. But this isn’t some high-end fashion boutique, where you can just stamp your feet and pout, and magically get your damn way. This is a federal courthouse, Miss Carrington. What the hell were you thinking, following me around like that?” She opened her mouth to speak and he sliced the air for silence. “You know what? On second thought, I don’t even want to know. Here’s how this is going to go down from here on out. I’m going to go back out there and interview Shannon Bridgeway, and you’re going to calm the hell down, keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way while I do it. Is that clear?”

  It took some serious effort for Olivia to look away from the finger pointed at her face, but she finally managed it. “You can’t tell me—”

  “Is. That. Clear?” he cut in, still pointing.

  “Get your finger out of my face!” she exploded, slapping his finger down and replacing it with hers in the air between them. “And what was that, anyway? Another one of your little sly digs about my looks? You think I spend all of my time wandering around in f
ashion boutiques and staring at myself in the mirror?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “Good, because you would be wrong. And you know what? Screw you anyway, Agent Talbot. Funny how you didn’t seem to have a problem with my looks when you were drooling over my legs.”

  “Drooling?”

  She dropped her clutch on the nearest desktop and crossed her arms underneath her breasts. “You heard me.”

  He shook his head as if to clear it, and the movement was so smoothly executed that she didn’t notice him moving closer to her until he was just there, and her nostrils were suddenly filled with his intoxicating scent. “I’m sorry, but when exactly did you notice me drooling over your legs, Miss Carrington? Was it before or after you stopped staring at my lips?” His expression turned thoughtful. “How was it that you described them? Oh yeah, that’s right. I believe you said they were ‘nice.’”

  “Nice is a very generic word, Agent Talbot. Plenty of people have nice lips.”

  “You’re staring at them right now. Did you know that?”

  “No, I’m not!” But she was and she couldn’t seem to make herself stop. “Okay, maybe I am, but not because I find them—or you—attractive,” Olivia quickly added. He cocked a brow at her and she dug herself a little deeper. “Not really anyway, because honestly you’re not my type. It’s just...been a while since I’ve seen such nice lips on a man and I was curious about your ethnicity. I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

  “No offense taken, especially since I happen to be a leg man and that’s the only reason yours caught my attention. Like you, it’s been a while since I’ve seen such a nice pair on a woman, so I commented on them.” He slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, rocked back on his heels and shrugged nonchalantly. “If it seemed like I was hitting on you before, don’t worry, I wasn’t. Because you’re not my type, either.”

  “I bet you like women who are simple and follow orders,” she sniped, because his words left a salty taste in her mouth. “Do you grow them like that in Kentucky, Agent Talbot?” She saw his eyes narrow behind his lenses and the witch in her smiled.