by Leslie North
Those ones were especially tricky right about now.
“C’mon,” Heath said, stepping away from her to take her hand. “Let’s start moving closer. From the sound checks, he’s about to start.”
Her back felt cold and unprotected now without him standing behind her, but she stumbled along at his side, trying hard to get her head back in the game. She’d always had a vivid imagination, which sometimes got her in trouble. Even her boss at the paper was always warning her to make sure she backed up the accusations in her stories with hard facts and proof. Which was exactly why she’d gone undercover on this EnKor case. When her usual sources had turned up nothing on the evidence front, more drastic measures were needed.
By the time they’d reached the outer edge of the crowd around the stage, Senator Lawrence was getting out of his limo. From this distance, he looked so benign, like a kindly old man who volunteered at church on Sundays and played bingo during the evenings. That was totally false, Aileen knew. The senator had carefully cultivated that doting old man routine to cover his shrewd, shifty business dealings behind the scenes. Now, if Aileen could just get her hands on the proof she needed, she’d be all set to run with her story. It would bust open his fraudulent green energy deals and had the potential to bring down the whole crooked EnKor enterprise. It could win Aileen a Pultizer, it was that volatile.
“See a good spot to catch his eye?” Heath whispered as they weaved through the people to get closer. “I’d think maybe off to the side there, near where the babies are, that way when he goes in for a photo op you’ll be there to ruin his day.”
“Good thinking.” She pulled him in that direction and soon they were standing shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of young moms with drooling babies in their arms while Senator Lawrence—windbag that he was—went on and on about holiday spirit and clean energy to power all the decorations and what his agenda would be for the next term in Congress when they all met again after the first of the year. Finally, he stopped talking and began shaking hands, working his way around the stage slowly until he approached where Aileen and Heath were standing.
She glanced over and spotted a Secret Service agent standing guard nearby, but thankfully no one had recognized her and Heath yet, so their disguises must be working.
As the senator approached, Aileen squared her shoulders and stepped forward, ignoring Heath’s stiff posture beside her and his warning look. At first Milford Lawrence didn’t seem to see her, engrossed as he was with the whining, fussy baby in his arms. But then, as he handed the infant back to its mother after the photo op, he glanced over and spotted her, the flash of the cameras gleaming off his wire-rimmed glasses. He froze, his polite smile faltering a bit as he stared into her amber eyes. No disguising those.
“Senator Lawrence. It’s me. Aileen Coen. Just didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten about you or your shady dealings. I’m watching. Even when you think I’m not, I am. And if you’re doing anything wrong with your deals with EnKor I will find out and I’ll take you down so fast your head will spin. Bank on it.”
Heath grabbed her arm and pulled her back into him again. “We need to get out of here now, before the Secret Service hauls our asses off to jail.”
“It’s a free country and I can voice my opinion.”
Senator Lawrence gestured at the guard closest to them and Heath took over, guiding her back into the thick of the crowd and away from the stage.
“Hey!” Aileen protested, trying to pull free once they were outside the perimeter of the crowd and away from the Secret Service’s watchful eye. “Why’d you pull me away from there? I was getting to him. I could tell.”
“Yeah.” Heath hailed another cab then opened the door for her. “And he was getting to us. Pardon me, but I’d rather not spend the night in a dirty cell when my nice clean brownstone is so much comfier. Now get in.”
5
Wham. Wham. Wham.
Heath punched and kicked the heavy bag hanging from the ceiling of the workout room in the basement of the brownstone later that night. He’d needed to burn off some adrenaline from the day and clear his head, and physical exertion always did that for him. Plus, it helped keep his bum leg from stiffening up too much.
He swiped the back of his gloved hand over his sweaty forehead and glanced up at the window set high in the concrete wall where nothing but orange glow from the nearby streetlight and the passing feet of pedestrians were visible. They’d done pretty well today with the senator, at least in his estimation. Aileen had gotten her threat across and he’d not gotten his ass hauled into police headquarters by the Secret Service. Always a good thing.
Still, he’d known Aileen had wanted to stick around and harass the senator more and she’d not been happy about Heath pulling her away when he had or about him shoving her into a taxi and bringing her back here. After his workout and shower, maybe he’d go upstairs and cook her a nice dinner to make it up to her. Not necessary, since he’d done nothing wrong, but if it smoothed things over between them then…
A frown deepened between his brows as he spotted a familiar pair of black patent leather Santa boots tromp by on the sidewalk outside. His thoughts sped as fast as his heart and he was yanking off his gloves and running up the stairs two at a time within seconds.
Shit, fuck and dammit all.
He’d even set the security system to make sure she’d stayed put—for her own good, of course—and somehow Aileen had gotten out anyway. Racing out of the brownstone, Heath barely noticed his lack of clothing from the waist up. He was so pissed at the moment, he could’ve qualified as a frigging supernova star. Sneakers sloshing through the wet slushy snow covering the pavement, he caught sight of Aileen about a half a block up the street, dressed in that goddamned Santa suit again and covering a lot of ground fast. Dodging pedestrians, he charged after her. No fucking way was she running now. Not after he’d spent all these weeks and effort on tracking her down. He’d get her back. For Murphy. For her own safety.
For myself.
That last thought made his steps fumble and he nearly face-planted into a nearby snowbank before he righted himself. People passing by gave him strange stares, either because of his shirtless state or his dark scowl, he wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter. He was getting Aileen back because it was the right thing to do. His feelings about her, or lack thereof, were irrelevant.
Heath caught up to her before she reached the corner, thank God, and grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn and face him. “Where the hell are you going?”
His breath puffed on the frigid air and now that he’d stopped, the cold started to lick at the sweat on his skin and made him shudder slightly. Then again, that tremor running through him could also be because of the spark of want he’d spotted in her eyes as Aileen took in the sight of him, half-naked and freezing in the brisk New York winter. A rapidly-rising warmth spread inside him despite the chill.
“I’m going back to the MacLeans’ for the night. Then tomorrow, I’m going undercover again to get my story.”
“We made a deal.” He tugged her closer to the nearby building, where at least the brick wall helped block the worst of the wind. “You’re just going to back out of it now, like a coward? What about your integrity? What about Murphy? He’s worried sick about you, you know?”
“I know. That’s why I want you to tell him tomorrow that you found me and that I’m fine. Tell him what I’m working on and that I’ll be home soon, once I get my evidence to nab the senator and EnKor.”
“Like hell I will.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his gaze. “I trusted you.”
“And I’m sorry.” Aileen sniffed and looked away. She hadn’t brought anything with her, only the Santa suit she’d worn in on the first day, he noticed. His heart tugged a bit, regardless of his wishes to the contrary. She looked so alone and small standing there that he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close, protect her from anything or anyone that dared to harm her. But that wasn’t possible. There were too many
variables between them that made holding her and touching her and wanting her a very bad idea. Too bad his heart and his libido didn’t seem to care. “But this story is too important. I can’t let Senator Lawrence or his sham company harm people like the MacLeans. They mean too much to me. I can’t allow him to get away with it. No one cares as much about this as I do.”
Heath shifted slightly, resting his hips back against the cool brick. “That might be true, but I’m still you’re partner. And I’m way bigger than you. If you start giving me shit, maybe I’ll just pick you up and toss you over my shoulder and carry you back to the brownstone myself.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me. Or don’t. Either way, we have a deal and I never break my promises. Now which is it going to be? You walk back with me, nice and peaceful or I haul you back caveman-style?”
They stared at each other across the span of several feet. A stand-off.
“Fine,” Aileen huffed at last, taking off back toward the brownstone without waiting for him.
Heath grinned and jogged to catch up with her, glad for the activity to warm his now-icy skin. Now that he thought about it, carrying her over his shoulder with all those delectable curves draped against him wouldn’t have been bad either, at least on his part.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Aileen glanced over at him and sneered. “I hope you’re happy.”
“Ecstatic. Thanks for asking.” He chuckled at the middle finger she flashed him. For some reason, feisty women always turned him on, even though most would as soon kick him in the nuts as kiss him. Still, an idea occurred, one that would help him burn off more excess energy and also assure him that if she did get out on her own again somehow that she had the skills to take care of herself. “You mentioned having a black belt, yeah?”
“In Krav Maga.” She gave him some serious side eye. “Why?”
“You owe me a workout. Seeing as how your little escape attempt interrupted my last one. So, how about when we get back to the brownstone we hash it out on the mats downstairs. You show me what you got and I’ll do my best not to kick your ass too badly.”
Aileen snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“What?” he asked, his tone taunting. “Afraid you can’t measure up?”
“Oh, I can take whatever you dish out, big boy, don’t worry.” She gave a slight shrug. “Don’t want to hurt you, that’s all. Doesn’t seem fair, with your limp and all.”
“Right.” He bit back a grin. “Well, low blow aside, I’ve taken on warriors twice your size and won every time, so a little half-pint like you should be no trouble at all.”
Fierce competitiveness flashed in her amber eyes and her Cheshire Cat smile widened. His traitorous cock twitched in response. “Okay then. You’ve got yourself a sparring partner, buddy. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Twenty minutes later, Heath was back in the basement, warm and dry and stretching out his now-stiff muscles in preparation for teaching Aileen a thing or two about messing with an ex-military man. He’d just bent over to touch his toes when a creak sounded on the stairs behind him. He glanced back and nearly swallowed his damned tongue.
Gone was the bulky Santa suit and clunky boots. In its place was a pair of black, form-fitting yoga pants and a pastel pink sports bra that revealed far more than it concealed. If she’d planned to use distraction to her advantage, then she’d done well. He also didn’t miss the way her gaze caught on his backside, currently in the air because of his position, or the slight blush of color now staining her cheeks. Okay then. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who could use their body for distraction purposes tonight.
He straightened, then decided to remove the T-shirt he’d put on after returning from the cold outside. Slowly, Heath pulled the garment over his head before tossing it aside, giving her ample opportunity to ogle him to her heart’s content. He might be out of the Navy now, but he still kept himself in fighting shape and knowing his toned physique got her attention gave him a small thrill of pleasure. By the time he faced her fully, her cheeks were a darker shade of pink and her lips were parted slightly.
His gaze was suddenly riveted there, watching as her pink tongue peeked out to lick her full bottom lip and through the thin material of her top, he saw her nipples hardened. As if caught in a spell, his own body tightened, hardened, and his throat constricted with need before he forced himself to turn away. “If you’re ready, we can get started.”
“Uh, yeah,” Aileen said, her voice sounding breathy and distant. “Let’s do it.”
The double entendre wasn’t lost on Heath, or his cock. And now all he could seem to picture was him, taking her over and over again—against the wall, on the floor, upstairs in his bed; licking and stroking and tasting and claiming every square inch of her soft, supple little body. He damned near groaned before he severed the sound.
Heath could see now how this workout had been a massive mistake in judgement on his part, but it was too late to back out now. Especially after he’d called her on doing basically the same thing earlier. Nope. He’d have to see this through. No matter the consequences.
“Yep.” He walked to one side of the mat in the middle of the large space and crouched slightly, preparing for her attack. “Proceed.”
* * *
Aileen eyed her opponent from across the room, circling him slowly as she waited for him to strike. Krav Maga was about self-defense, not attacking, and though she could go on the offensive if necessary, she really wanted to see how Heath was going to handle fighting her.
She took a deep breath and shook her arms to keep her muscles loose, her eyes never leaving his as they went around and around like two caged tigers ready to defend their territory.
“Are we going to dance all night or are you going to make good on your promise of a workout?” she taunted, hoping to get a rise out of him. Also hoping to distract herself, to keep her gaze from drifting down his handsome face to his flawless, toned chest—smooth except for that tantalizing dark trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Was he wearing anything under them? The possible answer to that question dried her mouth and she licked her lips, aware that he tracked the tiny movement, his own mouth falling open slightly and his breath growing deeper, harder.
At last he made a growling sound deep in his throat and came at her, his large hands landing on her shoulders and she reacted on pure instinct, her years of classes kicking in without thought. He was a good foot taller and had at least fifty pounds of solid muscle on her, but size didn’t matter in Krav Maga and that was why she’d chosen it. Aileen took a large step back with one leg, bracing herself as she brought her arms up between his—crossed at the forearms, Wonder Woman-style. Then she twisted her arms as she flung them outward, using the full force of her body weight. Once she’d broken his hold, she slammed her hands against his ears in a double-pound strike. Heath yelped and grabbed his head, doubling over, and that’s when she went for a knee to the stomach. With a loud “ooofff” he fell to his knees then rolled over flat on his back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling while he blinked hard.
“Jesus,” he said, breathless. “I thought we were pulling our punches here.”
“I did,” she said, smiling down at him. “I could’ve kneed you in the balls. You’re welcome.”
“Fuck.” Heath shook his head then rubbed his eyes. “I’m dizzy.”
“An ear strike will do that to you. Sorry. I tried to not hit so hard.” Pride welled up inside her, along with concern. The guy looked seriously nauseous, the tanned color in his cheeks draining away to leave a sickly green tone behind. Aileen knelt beside him and reached over to rub his temples. “Close your eyes and relax. This helps make the dizziness go away.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, doing as she instructed. “Guess I didn’t rate any tough-guy points with that display, huh?”
She gazed down at his gorgeous face, a bit of his color returning, and the tension inside her re
laxed a tad. She’d just wanted to teach him a lesson—that she could take care of herself—not hurt him. Aileen leaned forward slightly, giving in to her urge to kiss him without even realizing she was doing it. Before her mouth reached his, however, he’d locked his hands around her wrists and levered his body up, rolling her beneath him and trapping her between his powerful thighs.
Her heart thumped and moisture gathered between her legs, even as her embarrassment grew at her own stupidity. She’d allowed him to distract her and he’d taken full advantage, as any good warrior would. Her Krav Maga instructor would’ve been appalled. Yet as she laid there, staring up into Heath’s stormy gray eyes, feeling his bare chest brush against her with each inhalation, his warm, heavy weight pressing her firmly against the cold mat beneath them, all she could do was wish he’d hurry up and kiss her already before she exploded.
“How about now?” he asked, heat and humor dancing in his gaze.
“How about now what?” Aileen rocked her hips upward, grinding against him in blatant invitation. Fighting against her attraction to him was too damned hard, and she was too damned tired now to keep up the pretense. And yes, her brother might be mortified that she’d slept with his best friend, but sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do. Right now? Aileen needed to feel him inside her more than she needed her next breath.
At the rubbing of her body against his, separated only by thin fabric, Heath gasped and held her wrists tight to the mat beside her head. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” She did it again.
“That, dammit.” His voice sounded strained and a darkening scowl grew on his face. “We can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Instead of grinding into him, this time she arched, brushing her sensitive nipples against his chest. A small moan escaped her before she could bite it back. She knew she was acting like a cat in heat, but hell if she could stop herself now. She wanted him too badly. “Can’t that?”