“The type of backup I would offer?” Jake understood her meaning. “This is your show, sweetheart. I’ll do what you want.” And he’d protect her. Again, he wouldn’t insult her by stating the obvious. Angela knew he’d guard her with his life, as her dad had obviously known as well. He held his arms out, palms up, as he looked up at her, keeping his expression relaxed. “I’m offering my services. Use me as you see fit.”
“I know damn good and well what you’re offering,” she sneered.
Jake watched her, deciding he would let her form her own conclusions and not sway them with responses she would choose to believe, or not, no matter how truthful they might be. And the facts were, if she didn’t want to fuck him, he wouldn’t press the matter. That had never been his style. Jake knew women, though. Angela was making a scene to cover up her own desire. Raging need damn near burned her alive. He saw the flush slowly spread across her face as she shot him fiery glances.
“Are you going to deny you’re undressing me with your eyes?” She stopped in front of him, pressing her hands into her hips and glared at him.
If he stood, he’d be head and shoulders taller than Angela. She was already on the defensive and he wasn’t going to push her into a corner. So instead, checking his slight irritation, he stretched out his legs, forcing her to jump to the side so she wouldn’t trip over them.
“You say I’m hands-on. I’m sure you know all there is to know about me, darling.” He didn’t speak too slowly, kept his voice flat, and only stared at her face as he spoke. Already, from what he knew of this case, Angela needed him. Jake doubted even her father would have been her best backup. Possibly Huxtable had reasoned that one out, too. “According to your father, you were very aware of me, and my reputation, when we danced the night away in Tijuana.”
“I gave you critical information and you proceeded to blow all evidence to hell and back,” she accused.
“The FBI blew our evidence up, sweetheart. Our hands were rather tied with that matter.”
She stared at him, her expression remaining chilled and tense. “And if things get out of control here, would you call the FBI once again?”
Jake stood, forgetting his effort to help Angela relax. She tilted her head back, staring up at him when he spoke.
“If a madman who prefers his women doped up on slave juice captured you, put your life in serious danger, and I wasn’t able to get you out, you’re damn fucking straight I would call in whatever authorities can help.”
She searched his face, pressing her lips into an adorable pout before slowly looking down. Her gaze traveled down his chest and fire erupted inside him. She’d just pissed him off and he still wanted her. Angela might be right. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to work together.
“I heard your father was abducted in Mexico, but rumors suggest he allowed himself to be captured to get on the inside.” She began pacing the length of the hotel room, and continued shooting him hesitant looks. “That’s what I’ve done, Jake. I’m on the inside, but not at the risk of slave juice being stabbed into my arm.”
“Because you’re getting cozy with some Italian warlord, you think you’re exempt from his slave juice?” Jake was having more and more trouble keeping his emotions in check around her, which bugged him.
“I don’t know what you know about Mario Mandela, but let me tell you, he’s not an idiot. Right now, my cover is secure. Mario knows I’m high profile because of the circles he believes I move in. He is under the impression my schedule is very full and I’m often in the public eye. If I stray from my hectic schedule for even an hour, I would be missed. He won’t risk the game and all it means to him just for me. Women don’t mean that much to him. He is smart, though, and I’m covering my ass.”
“I’m going to help cover that ass of yours.” He didn’t smile this time and she didn’t appear as insulted with his crude comment.
When she tilted her head slightly and pierced him with those sexy eyes of her, several strands of hair fell over her shoulder and drifted across her arm and breast. “I’m not sure you’re the best man for the job,” she mused, her voice suddenly soft-spoken, gentle, as if she were contemplating something pleasant, instead of deciding if she could handle having him up close and personal without getting too close.
“Why would your father think otherwise?” he asked. His fingers itched to pet her thick black hair. It would be so smooth and silky. Her probing stare captivated him just as much as the rest of her did. When Angela met his gaze, staring hard and straight into his eyes, it was as if she saw past the surface and analyzed and discovered everything about him. As unnerving as the thought was that she might be able to see more of him than he wanted her to see, at the same time it was somehow erotic that Angela wanted to dig and learn more about him.
“I’m not sure.” Her hard lines of anger began fading. “Sounds like he and I need to talk about this.”
“Tell me about Mario.” He wanted her talking, opening up to him. They weren’t going to throw in the towel on this until they were sure as to whether they would work well together, or not. Already he thought they would make a good team. “How close have you gotten to him?”
“He took me shopping today.” She looked mighty proud of herself.
“You move fast, sweetheart,” he drawled. “When did you two meet for the first time?”
Her grin was wicked. “We met over the weekend at his private club I managed to get myself into, then seated myself conveniently under his nose.”
“Sounds like I missed the good stuff.”
“There isn’t any good stuff with this case,” she added quickly, her smile fading.
Angela had a point there.
“So tell me about Mario Mandela. What makes the man tick?”
“He’s an evil bastard.” She shivered and hugged herself, wrinkling her nose as she shook her head. “I’ve never been this close to someone so evil, so heartless, and so sure of himself that he is doing the right thing. He has no conscience.”
“He couldn’t to be part of the game.”
“Point taken,” she said easily, shaking her finger at him. “I have successfully bugged the back of his limosine.”
Jake was impressed. When she studied his face for a moment, then grinned, her expression lit up. “I’ve already got track running upstairs in my room,” she offered, looking really proud of herself.
“You’ve got the ball rolling beautifully, darling,” he praised her. “I’m seriously impressed.”
Angela must have realized she’d relaxed too much, was actually enjoying having a conversation with him, and apparently decided she wouldn’t allow her guard down even that far. That warm look disappeared and she pressed her lips together.
Angela stared at Jake, not saying a word. She took him in from head to toe. He was acutely aware of wherever she looked. When she lifted her attention to his face, he swore he witnessed her mind switch gears.
“I’m going to head upstairs to talk to my dad,” she announced, starting toward the door. “Mario is supposed to send his car for me early this evening. I’ll be in contact with you before I leave and let you know what we’ve decided at that time.”
“You aren’t leaving yet.” Jake was right behind her, reaching for her and dragging his fingers down her smooth, thick hair before she spun around, yanking the strands from his fingers.
“Rule number one is this is my case. You answer to me, not the other way around. I’ll give the orders.” She held her index finger up toward his face and straightened to her full height, which was probably somewhere around five and a half feet tall. “That is, if I decide we can work together. I need to call my dad and debrief.” When she took a step backward, her hands were facing him, palms out, as if she warded off some dangerous animal. “You aren’t going to stop me and you aren’t going to touch me.”
“I’m not the bad guy here, Angela,” he said, holding his own hands out in a gesture of surrender. He had no problem with Angela running the show. If she rema
ined this skittish, though, he would have to work even harder to protect her.
When she let out a loud breath, her body deflated. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This case means a lot to me. I’ve come so far on it. And I’m really curious why Dad doesn’t want to do backup and asked you instead,” she mumbled, pushing hair behind her shoulder.
“Because of his missing persons case.”
Her eyes opened wide when she stared up at him. “My dad doesn’t have a missing persons case.”
“How often do you two discuss each other’s cases?” Jake didn’t know Huxtable and his daughter’s relationship well enough to know if he’d tell her everything, or not. Angela’s tone suggested she believed she knew about every case he had, though.
Angela tugged at her sleeveless sweater, stretching the knitted material over her breasts, then crossed her arms, showing off her cleavage as she leaned against the door instead of opening it.
“Lately all we’ve talked about is this case.” She dropped her attention to her hands, unfolding her arms and staring at her fingernails, which were nicely filed and painted a bright pink. “I guess he could be working other cases right now without me knowing it.” She didn’t look up when she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m used to knowing everything he does,” she added, sighing and shaking her head.
Jake sensed her sincerity. Angela was proud of her father, loved him, and more than likely believed she took care of him. Huxtable might be a hard-ass, but he wouldn’t weigh her shoulders down with anything else while she worked this case. That meant he loved his daughter as much as she loved him. Maybe it was that tight bond that sent him flying out to California, stuffing his pride the best he could, and asking for help on his daughter’s behalf, because he knew she was going in way over her head.
“What are your plans tonight?” he asked.
“To end the game,” she said without hesitating.
“Nothing wrong with optimism.” He noticed her hand on the doorknob again, but she wasn’t turning it. He really didn’t want her leaving. If she did, he’d probably boot up his laptop and start researching her. It would be a lot easier, and more enjoyable, learning about Angela from Angela. “Call your dad here,” he decided, moving into her space and taking her hand off his doorknob. “It would be a good idea to hear your debriefing. I need to be brought up on everything.”
Her hand was soft, her fingers long, slender, and warm. Jake gripped her smaller hand in his, turning her as he did, and guided her back into his suite. When he ran his fingers down her back, he swore she shivered. Her silky black hair was thick, very straight, and had an enticing aroma to it he’d love to breathe in deeper, fill his lungs with it. Holding her hand and escorting her, his fingers and palm barely moving across her slender, perfectly arched back, damn near hardened every inch of him to stone. Jake needed to figure out how to work with this woman without sporting a hard-on every time he got close enough to smell her, feel the sexually charged energy she emanated, or touch her. Maybe it was the Chicago humidity affecting him. Jake didn’t lose control around women, no matter how hot they were.
Angela slid her hand out of his when she once again stood near the chair where he’d sat. She stared at her hands, rubbing them together. Jake wondered if he affected her the way she did him. That was one hell of a scary thought. If it were the case, knowing both of them were defenseless around the other, would either prove incredibly deadly, or wear both of them out trying to fight it.
“And if you’re in charge,” he added, trying to relax her, especially if she were fighting to douse the fire burning alive inside her, “you’re going to have to tell me what you want me to do.”
St. Martin’s Paperbacks Titles By
LORIE O’CLARE
Tall, Dark and Deadly
Long, Lean and Lethal
Strong, Sleek and Sinful
Play Dirty
Get Lucky
Praise for Lorie O’Clare’s previous novels
“The best book I’ve read this year!”
—New York Times bestselling author Lora Leigh on Tall, Dark and Deadly
“O’Clare [writes] page-turners filled with well-developed characters, and sparkling, sharp-witted dialogue c and attraction so strong you can feel it!”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Gripping.”
—A Romance Review
“Ms. O’Clare has written a gritty, dangerous, and sexy story. The action starts on the first page and doesn’t let up until the last. Tall, Dark and Deadly is a page-turner packed with sensuality and suspense. You won’t want to miss this one.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
“Intriguing [and] highly stimulating c a fantastic blend of mystery and suspense.”
—All About Murder
“The passion and steamy sensuality are great, as are the action and emotion.”
—Romance Reviews Today
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
GET LUCKY
Copyright © 2011 by Lorie O’Clare.
Excerpt from Stay Hungry copyright © 2011 by Lorie O’Clare.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
ISBN: 978-0-312-37216-3
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / April 2011
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
eISBN 978-1-4299-6587-3
First St. Martin’s Paperbacks eBook Edition: March 2011
Don’t miss the first HOT novel in Lorie O’Clare’s Bounty Hunter series
PLAY DIRTY
ISBN: 978-0-312-37215-6
And look for the novels in her dangerous and sexy FBI series
STRONG, SLEEK AND SINFUL
ISBN: 978-0-312-94344-8
LONG, LEAN AND LETHAL
ISBN: 978-0-312-94343-1
TALL, DARK AND DEADLY
ISBN: 978-0-312-94341-7
Available from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
Get Lucky Page 35