by Mallory Rush
His gaze was instinctively challenging. And guarded. But the hardness he usually felt knot in the pit of his makeup staggered against an alien force. Something vulnerable. Something that was nudging his defenses with a persistent whisper that escalated into a demanding cry for understanding. Acceptance. A distant but gripping need for a gentle and all-encompassing embrace.
Their eyes were locked in a revealing gaze. His, doubtless saying more than he could possibly bring himself to admit because the exposure, even unspoken, was tearing at years of protective masking he was urgently trying to slap back in place. Her return gaze was soft, asking for access to those hidden areas he hadn't even allowed himself to breach for so many years that it began to hurt to look at her.
Rand glanced away.
She touched his hand. He commanded himself not to grasp it and bring her into his arms. Arms that felt so open and empty he clamped them against his ribs to keep from filling the void.
"I hope you're not upset that I ran a check on you."
"Of course not," he said more shortly than he meant. Steeling himself, he chanced another meeting of eyes and met the gentlest shade of green. They could have been pastures of soft, dew kissed grass, beckoning him to rest after years of ceaseless running.
"I wasn't trying to pry," she explained.
"I know. In fact, I would have been disappointed if you hadn't taken the precaution. You just proved you're careful and professional. Exactly the kind of person I need."
The person I need... I need... I need. Rand drew a deep and not so steady breath as his words came back with unsettling overtones that left him straddled between the need to yank her out the chair and onto his lap, or run for the safe exit of the front door and get the hell out while the getting was still good.
"I need to finish reading this file before we discuss whether or not I'm a willing candidate." She began to read, then muttered, "I can finish this sooner if you quit staring."
Rand managed to focus on her apartment which wasn't easy since she held his attention as captive as he needed to hold her in Zebedique, to free his sister.
And perhaps someone else. A boy buried so deep he'd nearly forgotten him but who seemed bent on putting in a belated appearance.
Was it the feel of easy comfort here that whispered to Joshua? His eyes settled on a nearby book case. How many women kept a can of mace next to an old... baby doll?
Shaking off the threat of memories, Rand glanced at his watch. It was getting late and Rachel was turning the last page of the file. He anxiously scanned her face.
"So what do you think?"
"I think the findings seem accurate and the plan you outlined on hooking the slaver with me as the bait would probably work, given what I've just read."
"And given that you'll agree." He gripped the arms of the chair where she sat—next to the couch he wanted to pull her onto so he could roll her beneath him. Chemistry wasn't new to him, but when had he wanted to hold a woman just to have her hold him back, giving him some companionship so he didn't have to keep going this treacherous search alone?
"What you're asking me to do is infiltrate a highly dangerous echelon of pleasure seekers."
"I am." He took the file and shoved it onto the coffee table. Grasping her hands, he forgot about his pride long enough to expose his desperation.
"I need you, Rachel. Five women investigators have already turned me down. With each `no' I get more time passes while I'm working against the clock. Precious time, Rachel. The slavers could move their operation any day and then where would I be? Square one, scrambling to find their whereabouts that could be fifty or two thousand miles from here."
"And meanwhile your sister remains prisoner."
"That's right. I've already invested more time than I can afford, working out of motels, burning up the phone wires, catching red eye flights to New York to keep my business together. I can't do this indefinitely."
"But once you make it to Zebedique, how will you cope?"
"Hopefully, we can move quickly. If it takes awhile, I'm prepared. An office is already set up in the home. No need to fly out until the job's done." His jaw tensed. "I won't leave there without her."
"How much time have you spent looking for someone who'll agree?"
"Too long. That's why I need a quick decision from you." He leaned in, relaying his urgency. "There aren't many women who can fit the bill for this job and no one could be as perfect for it as you. I need you. Desperately. After everything you've read and heard about me, surely you realize those are words I don't use lightly."
Rachel experienced a quickening melt-down that was turning her objectivity inside-out. She felt for Rand, and for the sister she had glimpsed through the file. Black and white type had heartlessly translated Sarah into a statistic. But to Rand she was flesh and blood.
She felt Rand's warm human flesh pressing against hers, and the blood that flowed through his veins seemed to course into her own. Could she do it? Did she dare try cracking the ring when simply holding his gaze made it impossible to think?
Just the facts, ma'am, she ordered herself. She was working hard to establish her reputation, one that didn't depend on her dad's and transcended the liability of her age. Rand was in a position to help her get a leg up.
He was also capable of compromising her ethics. No emotional involvement allowed. As in a heart sign with a diagonal slash. Only her heart seemed heedless of the slash.
It pounded rebelliously as she looked at him now, all strong enigmatic male and caring desperate brother. She tried to force away any outward softness while it was there, shifting, catching her up inside. If their first meeting had left her breathless, the dizzying momentum that continued to gather was enough to send her scrambling for escape from this emotional vacuum sucking her in. She couldn't see any exit except for his arms. The very arms she needed to escape.
If only she could forget the case and search this dark place reflected behind his eyes that must have its roots in a faded black and white photo. If only...
Drawing on a reserve of professional strength that denied the woman reaching for him inside her, she confronted the stark, brutal facts she could not ignore.
"You want me to work the casino, look lonely and lost. Hook up with the slaver, let him buy me a drink at the bar, lead him to think I've got no family and I'm sexually innocent. And I'd have to do this without even a gun for protection."
"The gun would raise suspicion since they'd go through your things after getting you alone. But I'll watch from a distance. And we'll bring in another PI to tail you. If you've got a colleague you prefer to work with, we'll go with your recommendation, no question."
"Jack. Jack O'Malley. He was my father's best friend and sponsored me for the five years training I had to put in before I could take the state exam. Jack's hands down great. But no matter how savvy a PI is, there's no guarantee things will go according to plan. Even Jack might not be able to get close enough to switch drinks with me." Rachel exhaled a shuddering sigh. "I don't relish the thought of downing a designer drug if it comes down to that."
"And it could. Much as I hate to spell it out, you deserve the unvarnished truth. What it comes down to is that there's a good chance you will be drugged. If you are, they'll do whatever it is they do in transit and getting through that just might be easier if you're flying high. If you manage to stay sober, you'll have to give the act of your life."
"For how long?"
"The auctions take place each Saturday so it depends on when the nab is made. Chances are you'll have at least several days of sheer hell that you've got nothing to depend on but your wits. All I can promise is that once I get you off the auction block, we'll be in this together. Even when we're staging a performance for Jayna or anyone else who might be listening at the bedchamber door."
Rachel gave pause to consider the implications of that. Rand, enacting his role as owner over her body. While her own body was eager at the moment to get the show on the road.
&nb
sp; Stop it, she ordered herself. Any hormonal urges or forbidden thrill she felt had no place in this moment of his dire straits and her ability to make a rational decision.
"You're sure you're in and not being set up yourself? What if it's a fake invitation and you get hauled away to a foreign prison? What if I'm stranded and go to the highest bidder? I could end up just like Sarah with no one here to get either of us out since you refuse to go to the police."
"It won't happen. My connections are paying a debt that comes to a staggering sum. My seat's reserved and I'll be watching you close. Don't worry, I've made sure the invitation's legit."
"I do worry. These go betweens don't sound too ethical. What if they double cross you?"
"Do you actually think I'd drag you into this without having some assurance myself? We're talking heavy leverage."
"How heavy?"
"Let's just say that an unnamed third party has a sealed envelope with recognizable names, places, and lots of incriminating evidence on its way to The New York Times if there's so much as a single screw up. My `associates' have plenty of incentive to make sure this goes off without a hitch."
This was definitely not a man to cross, Rachel decided. As tempted as she was to explore some things she was probably better off not knowing, a sense of self-preservation demanded she put up a final defense.
"It's dangerous."
"I'll protect you. That's one promise I won't break."
"You said I'd be stripped. Put on an auction block." Stripped. Auctioned off. Could she actually endure such a violation of her modesty only to be bartered like a slab of human beef while Rand sat in the audience with a clear view of her body? She shivered, imagining the ordeal.
"It's the only way. I'd never ask such a thing of anyone, and especially not a woman as special as you, but I have no choice." His grip tightened. "You can name your price. I'm willing to pay however much you ask."
For some reason that hurt. He was reducing this to money. Then she hurt a little more, remembering the cash he'd laid on her desk, inducing her to hear him out. Money talked; she'd listened to the seductive jingle of his coin.
"And what happens, Rand, if I say no deal?"
"Then I pay you some hush money and you promise not to leak a word about what you've learned here. I'll walk out and we won't see each other again—at least not under these circumstances."
Money again. As much as she needed it the thought of green bills had never been so distasteful. Just as the thought of never seeing Rand again left an empty ache in the region of her chest. Somehow, saying good-bye disturbed her more deeply than the idea of being stripped.
"But what would you do, where would you take this?"
He shrugged, a determined look spanning his face and radiating into the tenseness of his posture.
"I'd keep hunting until I found someone who would agree. I'm sure they wouldn't be half as intriguing, entertaining, or come close to being as tempting to look at as you. But I have a sister to find and those are optional qualities that didn't enter the picture until now."
His laugh was short, humorless. "You know, Rachel, the too little time we've spent together, the conversations we've had when I called on any trumped up excuse just to hear your voice... they've done something for me that money can't buy. I actually found myself feeling something so good that work and Sarah weren't the only things on my mind. Even if you don't take the case, I'd like to thank you for that."
What those words did to her. Words that assured her these topsy-turvy feelings she couldn't acknowledge for him were alive and well in Rand's dark and vibrant persona. A persona that would have no choice but to go to another woman if she refused. One that would share his house. Take his case and likely for the money she herself disdained.
None of these were reasons to agree, and yet she couldn't deny they were playing a crucial role in her decision.
"The ink's still wet on my license, Rand."
"Doesn't matter. You're good, Rachel. In fact, you're better than good. You'll be successful no matter what, but this case just might get you there a lot quicker. I have a certain amount of clout that I won't hesitate to throw in your direction if you say yes."
Rachel weighed the future ordeal against the immediate impulse chanting his plea, Say yes. If she did, she could reunite a sister and brother and right a terrible wrong while she took a giant leap forward in her chosen profession.
Though at the moment her profession didn't seem nearly as important as the man waiting on edge for her answer.
Once she shook on it there was no turning back.
She extended her hand.
"Put it there, partner."
Chapter 5
"Yes!" Rand shouted a victory whoop. His hand closed over hers. "Quite a handshake you've got, lady. Guts."
"I like yours too." She returned his beaming smile, feeling a buoyant lifting that felt like a twinkle inside.
"Wonder what your daddy would think?"
She glimpsed another window. No daddy for Rand Slick. But he was human, wanted approval as much as the next man.
"He'd think you were no mark. He'd like you, but he wouldn't trust you. At least not with me."
"I can understand that. Sometimes I don't trust myself."
"Why not?"
Rand shrugged. "Guess it goes back to certain promises I didn't make good on. Mistakes I've made along the way."
"We all make those."
"True, but some are more irreversible than others."
She wanted to probe but his eyes told her it was private territory not to be investigated just yet. Best to stick with a more immediate concern. One her feminine instincts hearkened to while her business ethics demanded she avoid this part of the deal.
"About our roles, Rand. Think you could enlighten me a little more on just what they might involve?"
"Better than that, why don't we give it some practice? Pretend I've just taken you into the Master's chambers." He pulled her from the chair and onto his lap. Before she could stop herself, a small gasp caught in her throat. "This is the scenario: The servants are listening at the door, wondering how I'm going to stake my rightful claim. Do I seduce you with tender words that they don't expect to hear anymore than I'm used to saying them?"
Wondering if this truly was a game, and too aware that she didn't want it to be, Rachel forced herself to back off from exactly what she wanted to explore.
"I'm not sure if this is such a good idea, Rand. Maybe we should forget this and ad lib when the time comes."
"No. Rehearsal is part and parcel, Rachel." Her behind was anchored against his groin. He was... sweet heaven, he was thick against her, large. Aroused. She felt an immediate, answering response that tensed her belly and tingled the tip of her womb only to reach up and increase the weight of her breasts. "God, you feel good in my arms. Where have you been all this time? And how can we have just met and fit together like this?"
"We can't do this." She said the words even as she felt herself settle deeper against him and realized she'd draped her arms around his neck. Her head rested against his shoulder and she inhaled the marvelous scent of him. A light growth of whiskers at his jaw grazed her cheek. He was nuzzling against her or she was doing the nuzzling. "Please, Rand," she said unevenly. "We have to stop this. Now."
"That would be an appropriate response. To which I would reply, `We haven't even started.'" He locked his hands at her hips. "Then I'd add: `How can you say we have to stop when I can feel you pressing deeper and wanting the same thing as me?'"
A cry of need all but strangled her as she refused the instinctive sound.
"You want me to help you get your sister back, don't you?" She forced her mouth from his neck, his warm strong neck where she could feel the steady, reassuring beat of his pulse. "You have to understand, a private investigator can't get emotionally involved with a client. It can muddy their judgment, even leave them open to make mistakes."
"Is that a certainty? Be honest with me."
&nb
sp; "It's a possibility."
"Anything's possible. Give me a concrete reason."
"Professional protocol."
"Protocol isn't something I bow to and mistakes are possible no matter what the climate. Give me something, anything, to make me believe my holding you is going to jeopardize my sister. Facts. Examples. C'mon, Rachel. Remember, we're in Zebedique and you'd better have some solid reasons to keep me on the other side of the bedroom door."
Was he testing her mental reflexes, just as he'd tested her at their first meeting? She didn't know, she didn't know anything except that she wanted to forget possibilities and protocol and missing sisters so she could embrace the brother that had more facets than a crystal, more forbidden allure than she could possibly deflect.
"You're a client," she blurted in a strangled voice. "A client. You're nothing more than a case to be solved and filed away once we're through."
"That's it? If that's the best you can do then I must insist that you don't let the servants hear you say I'm nothing more than your client and you can't get involved for a mere technicality. Your flimsy protest would jeopardize our plan a lot quicker than any amount of involvement you might have to fake." He searched her eyes. "Or not fake?"
With the stroke of one incisive gaze, the sweet bite of his fingertips tightening at her hip, she felt more naked than she possibly could on the auction block. In self-protection she denied the truth by emphatically shaking her head.
"You would still refuse me, the Master to whom you belong? Then I would have no choice but to persuade you with logic." He traced her lips with a fingertip then veered to her throat. His smile was intimate as he monitored the rapidity of her pulse.
"This isn't logical, Rand," she said urgently. "This is not a business-like position for us to be in."
"But it is business and exactly the sort of position we will be in. And given that it's business, humor me so we won't have to completely wing it."
"Okay." She drew a deep breath, needing some oxygen to clear her head. The oxygen didn't help. Reality and fantasy blurred together while she grappled to hang onto a fact she knew to be real. "I just told you I won't have you no matter what you say or do. It's impossible under these circumstances and no amount of logic can sway me."