Adrienne Giordano

by Relentless Pursuit

  “What’s next then?” Kristen asked.

  “Unless anyone has other ideas, we’re stuck.”

  “But the security for the wedding tomorrow is set, right?”

  “That’s rock solid. No problems there.”

  * * *

  An hour into the senator’s daughter’s wedding, Billy stood in the hotel’s circular drive directing a crush of people toward the open area away from the hotel. “Big frickin’ problem,” he muttered to himself.

  Of all the scenarios he’d conjured for security breaches during the senator’s big event, not one of them included a fire alarm going off. To Billy’s way of thinking, this had to be a diversion. Someone yanking the alarm would be a hell of a distraction for a car-theft ring bent on breaching security.

  “Side of the building, folks. Sorry for the disturbance.”

  In a few minutes, the side street would be blocked. Freaking mess. Sirens wailed in the distance, alerting him the fire department would be arriving soon. They’d need to get these towers cleared and get everyone back inside.

  And he needed to get his ass to that parking lot and make sure no cars disappeared.

  To his left, small groups made their way to the parking lot, most likely to retrieve their cars and leave. The guys covering the parking lot were about to get slammed. The handheld radio he carried chirped. Dennis requesting additional security to help with crowd control. Except, no one could be spared. If anything, they needed to double up on parking lot security.

  Billy held the radio to his mouth. “No one from the parking lot moves.”

  “I need help, Billy. We’re moving more than a thousand people here.”

  “I understand, but the parking lot security stays put. They’re about to get slammed with people leaving.”

  Kristen hustled through the lobby doors and rushed toward him, her strides long and fast and all business. “What’s happening?”

  “It’s a south tower alarm. There’s no smoke anywhere. The guys in the security office are checking the footage for the area where the alarm was pulled.”

  “Is this a distraction so cars can be stolen?”

  “That’s my guess.” Billy waved his arms toward the side street. “This way, folks. Keep moving. We need to clear this area for the fire department.” He turned back to Kristen. “Is the senator freaking on you?”

  “I beat him to it by offering the open bar for another hour tonight.”

  “Nice, M.H.”

  A fire engine pulled into the drive and whooshed to a stop. Kristen swung toward the truck. “I need the fire department to okay everyone reentering or we’ll have pristine conditions for an assassination attempt on half the members of the United States Senate.”

  There’s a thought Billy hadn’t considered. His stomach did a pitch and roll. This whole thing could be a rouse to get the senator and his powerful friends outside. And that would be bad for business. “Where are the senator’s guests?”

  “On the beach side. I didn’t want them near the street. I had Peter take them down.”

  “Remind me later to tell you how impressed I am with your crisis management skills.”

  She half smiled. “I’ll do that.”

  She stepped away to speak with one of the firefighters and a minute later, a team charged to the side entrance of the building where they could enter the hotel unimpeded.

  Kristen returned to his side and he said, “Can you handle this crowd control for a minute? I need to check the parking lot.”

  “Sure. I can’t go inside. Might as well make myself useful.”

  Already sweating, whether from the agitation eating away his insides or the suit he wore, even the cool night air offered no relief. He stopped at the automatic gate he’d had installed for the senator’s event and glanced at the line of cars attempting to leave. Four security guards stood at the lot exit checking ID and car registrations. Before too long, the place would look like an L.A. expressway during rush hour. People would be pissed.

  Too bad. He wasn’t about to let one car disappear on his watch.

  “You need help?” Billy said to one of the guards.

  “Nah. We got it. They’ll have to wait is all. If you’re good with it, so are we.”

  “Perfect answer. I’m gonna prowl around some. See if anything looks sideways.”

  Lights from the fire engine threw flashes of red across the stacked up cars and Billy moved into the fray. He walked down the first row, angling around guests, all dressed appropriately for clubbing or dinner. No gang bangers. He scanned each car making sure to linger near the high-end ones.

  Nothing.

  He stopped and checked his immediate surroundings. “Come on, where are you?”

  Nothing unusual. He scooted through two cars to the next row, repeating his process while keeping an eye on the first row.

  Too much damned ground. He lifted his radio. “Dennis, you got anyone that can help me in the parking lot?”

  Not that he counted on that since Den had just been begging him for someone. “Give me a couple minutes. The fire department cleared the north tower. Once those guests are in, I’ll send you someone.”

  Good news. The senator and his crew would be heading in to safety. One problem fixed. Billy continued prowling the parking lot, the crowd thinning as people abandoned their ideas of leaving.

  Ten minutes later, after the south tower had been checked and the guests allowed to re-enter the building, Billy approached the parking lot entrance.

  “Everything is good here,” the guard he’d spoken to earlier said.

  “You checked every car?”

  “Yes. IDs and registration all match.”

  Billy smacked him on the back. “Excellent.”

  He spun back to the cars, scanned the area one last time and wondered if he was paranoid or if he’d just dodged a big fucking bullet.

  * * *

  After the chaos of locking down the hotel and ensuring the fire alarm was indeed the result of a prank, Kristen sat in her suite sipping a martini and hating every second of waiting for Billy to show up. When had she ever been needy?

  Worse, in less than forty-eight hours, he’d be gone. History. Out of her life.

  And she’d be crushed. So much for self-protection.

  She tightened the belt on her silk robe, the red one that matched the lacy underwear he liked. Lucky for him, she stocked multiples of the red.

  A knock sounded and she checked the peephole before swinging the door open. Billy stood in the hallway, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, his tie hanging loose while his short dark hair shot up in a rumpled, sexy mess.

  “Hi, sailor. How’s my hotel security?”

  “Hello, Madame Hotness.” He looked her up and down. “You are living up to your nickname. And you’re hotel is safe and sound. Although, I’d hate to be those dumbass teenagers who pulled the fire alarm. The father was pissed.”

  She stepped aside and waved him in. The minute she closed the door, he reached for her belt and tugged. It dropped to the floor and the robe hung open.

  An urge to close the robe nagged at her, but she forced herself to stand tall and not curl her shoulders.

  “The red again,” he said. “My lucky night.”

  “Are you hungry? I brought some cheese and appetizers up.”

  Billy dropped onto the sofa and snatched a bit of cheese from the tray. “How about hot monkey sex first and then we have a snack?”

  Her robe remained hanging open and she fought to stand still while Billy made no attempt to control his staring. Unable to withstand the fierce, focused attention, she closed her robe.

  “Oh, come on. Please?”

  Flattening her hands against her sides, she tapped them against her legs. You can do this. He likes the red.

  “In fact, why not lose the robe?”

  Apparently, she wasn’t the only one needy tonight. It unsettled her and tingles shot up both arms. She flipped her hand to the bedroom. “How about we go to t
he other room?”

  He vaulted off the couch. “Let’s roll.”

  With him in tow, she stripped off the robe on her way to the bed and tossed it. Billy dragged his hand down the center of her back.

  “Very nice, M.H.”

  And then, from behind, his hands were around her waist, drawing her against him, and then drifting up, over her breasts in a slow torturous route that forced her to draw a breath. Too much. She rested her head against his chest, let herself fall into the sensation of him touching her. Had she ever stopped thinking, obsessing, long enough to know she could enjoy sexual attraction? That she could crave it?

  Never.

  Now, all she wanted was his hands on her.

  She reached into the side table drawer while he moved his hands up and down her body and trailed kisses over her shoulder and back.

  Good God.

  “Blindfold,” she said.

  “Already? Can’t I play?”

  She spun to him. “You worked to get me to want to be naked with you. You can play later. Please?”

  “Deal.” He snapped the blindfold on, stripped and eased onto the bed as Kristen made quick work of getting rid of the bra and panties and straddled him.

  “Oh, wow,” he said. “Not yet. I just want to feel you against me.”

  With that, she lowered herself on top of him, letting her breasts press against him, skin against skin, savoring the perfection of his body while trying to ignore his single digit body fat.

  Yet, somehow, it didn’t seem fair to him having to wear the blindfold. Even with his hands traveling over her, why should she be the only one allowed to see? He’d been more than patient and was clearly not repulsed by her body.

  He’s leaving anyway.

  What did it matter? She pushed herself up and smoothed her hands up his chest, twining her fingers in the St. Christopher’s medal he never took off.

  She glided her fingers up his neck, ran the backs of them against his stubbled chin and cheek and kissed him, long and slow. The gentle touch of their tongues sent fire shooting through her and she groaned. So good. So free.

  Here she was, naked, with the lights on, completely at ease sitting on top of him. Never had that happened. Not with her paranoia about crushing the man under her.

  Somehow, he’d managed to make her comfortable. No. More than that. He made her feel beautiful and cherished. Not the fat Amazon she’d been living with all these years.

  Relief soared. Acceptance. Finally. Anticipation, without warning, urged her upright and—before she thought too much about it—she yanked the blindfold from his eyes.

  Billy stared up at the ceiling. “Did you do that on purpose?”

  Totally exposed, she dipped her mouth to her upper arm and laughed into it.

  Still, his gaze remained straight up. “Seriously? I can look?”

  “You can.”

  She remained motionless, sitting on top of him, her back straight, no hunching, while she absorbed the long, slow swoop of his gaze. Her hair fell over one shoulder and he pushed it back, running his hands over her bare breasts, his palms pressing against her. He grinned and she bit her lip, forced herself not to collapse inside. She didn’t want to hide. Not from him.

  What she wanted, and what was hard to admit, was for this man to love her. This man who would drive her insane with his constant need for activity and his never-can-be-silent mouth. That’s what she wanted.

  “You have no idea,” he said, “how incredible this feels.”

  He shot up to a sitting position, wrapped his arms around her and, his face against her chest, held her close. “You’re beautiful. You have to know I think that. From the second I saw you, I was dumbstruck. Just flat out stupid with lust. All I ever want is to get my hands on you. I literally cannot wait to touch you. That’s how beautiful I think you are.”

  He shifted her to the bed, sat beside her and ran his hands up and down her body, over her legs and stomach, his lips following the trail of his hands until he’d covered every inch of her. The tingles left in his wake turned to a throbbing sensation that should have broken her apart.

  Never had she imagined she could be this free in her own skin.

  She reached for the table and the stash of condoms she’d stuck there. “Okay, fella, time to stop teasing me.”

  “Oh, come on. You can’t be giving in this soon. I’m not nearly done.”

  “How about we have that hot monkey sex you said you wanted and we can play afterward? Compromise? I promise I’ll stay naked all night.”

  “Pinky swear?”

  “I’m seriously going to slap you.” And yet, she held up her pinky. “I will stay naked, but you have to screw me. Right now.”

  And then he was inside her and the slow slide into oblivion made her gasp. Perfect. Her thoughts twirled and twirled, the unhurried pace making her insane with wanting.

  “You have no idea,” he whispered. “No idea. So hot.”

  “Too slow. Too slow.”

  He quickened his pace. This was what she wanted. Always. The freedom. This crazy, unabashed ease between them that let her be herself and not worry about the fat Amazon.

  Something inside her twisted tighter, a coiling spring about to give and she opened her eyes, placed her hands on his cheeks. She wanted to watch. Wanted to see him looking at her when the euphoria hit. Such joy. Who knew?

  She exploded, her body bucking, the contentment drowning her just as Billy lost control, looking right into her eyes.

  Perfection.

  Finally, he collapsed on top of her, chest to chest, his heart pounding against her. “So bleepin’ hot.”

  She laughed. “I thought that would warrant a swear word.”

  “I’m filtering. Give me credit.”

  “Do that to me again and I’ll give you all the credit in the world.”

  “Sweet thing, you’re not getting any sleep tonight. And you’re staying naked. Just like you promised.”

  “You’re not the only one who can keep a promise.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Billy rolled, opened his eyes and met the morning sun cracking through the closed drapes. Harsh. He flipped over and let the softness of Kristen’s king sized bed swallow him.

  She lay next to him, her reddish-blond hair a tangled mess against the pillow. Dang, he loved this bed.

  He laughed at himself and Kristen stirred. Not wanting to wake her, he remained still. Frozen in his spot. But then her eyes popped open and she stared right at him, blinking a couple of times as if she couldn’t quite grasp him being there.

  He nudged closer. “Morning, sunshine.”

  She snuggled into her pillow. “Good morning. What time is it?”

  “Nine o’clockish.” He inched closer, set one hand on her hip. “You need to be somewhere?”

  “Eventually. The senator’s brunch is this morning. I’ll need to pop over and check on him.”

  To hell with the senator.

  Billy propped himself on one elbow, spotted condoms on the bedside table and decided this would be a terrific time to get laid. “How about I do wicked things to you before you go off to another man?” He ran his finger down the center of her chest, let it wander a little farther and felt her shiver. Gotcha. “How would that be, M.H.?”

  “I don’t see a whole lot wrong with that plan.”

  Twenty minutes later, just as Billy completed his mission, Kristen’s phone rang. Still on top of her, he reached for the phone on the bedside table and tossed it over his shoulder.

  “That won’t make it stop ringing. The thing is indestructible. In thirty seconds, the voice mail will chirp.”

  Which it did.

  “Told ya.”

  But then the phone rang again. “Christ sakes,” he said. “It’s Sunday. Don’t you ever get time off?”

  “You know the answer to that. Let me up.”

  No.

  Sure he was risking being labeled a toddler again, but he didn’t think a few extra minutes in bed w
as a lot to ask. Not when he’d be leaving in twenty-four hours.

  He pressed his weight into her for insurance. “Ignore it.”

  “I can’t ignore it. I have responsibilities. Normally, I would have been downstairs an hour ago making sure everything was set for the senator’s guests. Instead, I’m here with you. Where I want to be. Just let me take this call so I can come back to bed.”

  * * *

  Kristen scooted from beneath him and retrieved her phone from where it landed. She picked up the still ringing phone and listened as Dennis informed her of what had to be a mistake.

  “What?” Billy bolted to a sitting position. “What happened?”

  She held up her hand. “How many?”

  “Seven,” Dennis said. “Including yours. It must have just happened. The valet saw yours not half an hour ago when he parked another car. I’m sorry, Kristen.”

  Gripping the phone, she closed her eyes. A little peace was too much to ask. She’d known it, but allowed herself to be lazy and stay with Billy when she should have been working.

  And now, along with six other cars, her Aston was gone. She could only pray one of the cars didn’t belong to the senator. What a nightmare.

  “Have you called the police?”

  “They’re on their way.”

  “I’ll be down in fifteen minutes.”

  She clicked off and stared at the far wall. Seven cars. They’d been so aggressive with security the evening before, they’d let themselves feel smug. This is what complacency did. This is what allowing Billy Tripp to distract her did.

  Her gaze remained focused on the wall, her mind reeling off a to-do list while the businesswoman inside scolded her for neglecting her responsibilities.

  “Kris?”

  She turned to Billy, who had already shoved his legs into his suit pants from last night.

  “Seven cars are gone. Including mine.”