Just Beyond Reach

by Candace Irvin

  That earned her a blink, not to mention a raised brow. "Why should I care about your husband's club or his debts?"

  "Because he's using my job to pay them off."

  Another smile as he reached for her a third time. "Like I said, no problem." She covered his paws as they covered her.

  "There's one more thing."

  This time, those dark brows lifted together. "What?"

  "I don't like to share."

  That comment earned her a booming chuckle as the man's blackened gaze seared low, fusing itself to the current contents of his hands. "That is not going to be a problem either because, chiquita, you have more than enough candy of your own to keep me very satisfied for a very long time." She swallowed the bile in her throat as he leaned closer, preparing herself to feel those fleshy lips against her throat…or worse.

  She felt neither.

  "What the—"

  The rest of Eddie's words, as well as the man's air supply, were severed as a pair of taut hands clamped into his neck, choking him for a good five seconds before he was hauled back and sent slamming into the wall opposite the partition.

  A split second later, Eddie was hacking and wheezing as he lay sprawled out on the floor of the alcove. He was probably more stunned than she was.

  But Eddie wasn't in nearly as much trouble as she was going to be.

  And when she finally turned to acknowledge the smoldering fire blistering down on her, she knew it.

  Joe.

  10

  He had always believed the man he would be incarcerated for killing would be the one who had slaughtered his parents.

  Evidently, this was not to be.

  His crime of passion was about to be committed here and now. As soon as the sniveling bastardo at his feet found his spine and rose to face him.

  Then again, why wait when he could assist the coward?

  But as he reached for the technician's neck yet again, Teresa grabbed his arm. "Joe."

  "¡Silencío! I have no desire to—"

  "Damn it, listen to me!"

  Joe jerked his attention from the man still gasping for air as he cowered at his boots to those false-blue eyes. "Teresa, I am in no mood for excuses. You will leave this room now, and I will settle this."

  Her grip only tightened—and in distinct warning. "The hell you will. I'm staying right here until you listen. I don't know what you think you saw, but Eddie was helping me. I came up here to drop off something for my supervisor and ended up twisting my ankle. That's why I was sitting on the counter, husband."

  Husband.

  The case.

  Madre de Dios, he no longer cared about their case. His concern was for her. He knew full well what he had seen. Just as he knew what he would have seen had it taken him but two seconds longer to compromise the lock on the outside of the pharmacy door.

  "Joe, please. Baby, you've got to believe me." She brought her hands to his face and stroked the sides of his jaw as she stretched up to him intimately. "Have I ever lied to you?" Her words were as soothing as her slender fingers. Her gaze was not. Those blue eyes were ordering him to back down. "Sweetheart?"

  Again, the soft endearments. He was well aware she was attempting to give him his out. Preserving their covers.

  Their case.

  The flood of reason finally succeeded in cooling the worst of his fury. Much as he hated admitting it, Teresa was right. They had a job to do.

  Had he not just spent the afternoon in Alberto Mendoza's apartment in Los Angeles examining the man, his wife, and their four children? Children that, like the others from last night, were also missing a kidney apiece?

  Fortunately, Alberto had swallowed his story that he was there visiting merely to ensure there were no complications from the surgeries. And, thankfully, there appeared to be none. But they did possess a complication here with this man.

  And, unfortunately, his own blinding rage had caused it.

  He flicked his disgust down upon Hernández.

  Evidently all those undue hours spent in the gym were for naught but show, for this molester of women seemed determined to hide behind those same women's skirts when finally faced with an opponent his own size.

  Perhaps it was for the best. For when it came to lingering fury, Joe admittedly possessed far more than his share. Even now, should this coward trembling beneath him find his spine and rise to face him, he would take him down again.

  Permanently.

  He pushed his anger back to Teresa. "Return to your work, wife. I will see to you later."

  Her gaze narrowed.

  He raised his hand to her cheek as if to stoke it lovingly. The motion would not have been a stretch, if not for his truly foul mood. "Tessa, go. I merely wish to speak with the man."

  "You promise to leave him intact?"

  He inclined his head. "I give you my word."

  She held his gaze a moment longer, then nodded before tilting her face to receive the customary brush of his lips at her temple. "Thank you. I'll call you later tonight at the club."

  He waited until she had rounded the partition, the soft squeak of her comfortable nursing shoes fading as she crossed the tiles of the lab. Only when he heard the corresponding click of the door locking behind her did he extend his hand to the man lying at his feet. The wariness in that black gaze increased.

  As well it should.

  "Come." He allowed himself a brief smile as he continued to extend his hand, knowing full well the twist of his lips held no amusement. "You have naught to fear. I have given her my word."

  Hernández wisely chose to come to his feet unassisted, the man's gaze wary as it evaded his. Instead, it sought out the watch strapped to his wrist. The same wrist that had been attached to the hand that had been touching Teresa only minutes before—intimately.

  Joe closed his eyes to purge the image from his mind—and ease his temper.

  As he reopened them, the technician turned to the counter and the illicit collection of pills now scattered across it. "If you're here for the money, perhaps you'd rather—"

  "I am here for payment, and I would not—" He flicked his distaste to the pills. "—rather."

  Hernández shrugged. "Then you'll have to stop by the house. You can't expect me to carry that kind of cash at the hospital."

  No, but he did carry the goods whilst here, did he not?

  For even now, the technician was smoothly scooping the pills back into a tidy pile before he dumped them into the zippered pocket at the side of his canvas bag.

  However, the man's nerves betrayed his seeming nonchalance as his fingers fumbled, sending two of the Percocet tablets to the matching white tiles at their feet.

  Joe leaned down to pluck them from the floor with the fingers of his left hand as he slipped those of his right beneath the cuff of his jeans and into the throat of his boot. As he stood, he made as if to pass the pills back to Hernández' waiting palm, but he did not release them. Instead, he allowed the glistening blade of his switchblade to snick softly but distinctly from its sheath so that he might use the edge to caress the now dampening muscles of that unduly thick neck.

  Hernández swallowed, his flesh pressing into the blade that much more.

  Joe allowed his sigh to escape. "Must I say it?"

  Hernández shook his head ever so slightly. "I'll have the money t-tomorrow."

  He waited a moment, then frowned. "Tomorrow, I am busy." After all, a wait would do the shift in their relationship good.

  As well as Teresa's investigation.

  "H-how 'bout the d-day after?"

  "Excellent."

  He should have left it at that. If the memories of five minutes earlier had not been etched so deeply within his brain, he would have. Along with the sight of those heinous, recent scars upon the family from his latest border run—on behalf of this man. He kept his voice soft. Even used the man's name. "Eduardo?"

  Another swallow. "Yes?"

  "You like to look at a beautiful woman, no?"


  "Uh…"

  "A simple yes or no will do."

  "Yes."

  He nodded at the stark whisper. "I understand, for I also enjoy looking at a beautiful woman. But as far as my wife is concerned—"

  "I s-swear, I-I didn't—"

  "Shhh…" He smoothed the edge of his blade down, attempting to ease the frantic motion within that silently working throat. "This I know. Tessa, she tells me this, remember? And as we both know, she is my wife. Therefore, I must believe her when she assures me your touch was in no way…improper. In fact, I should probably thank you for assisting in her moment of need. But I will not. What I will do is assure you that, while I understand your desire to look upon a beautiful woman, if your gaze should ever happen to linger upon my woman for longer than two seconds again, I shall be forced to ensure that you never gaze upon another." He scraped the tip of his blade up that profusely sweat-dampened cheek, tracing the tender flesh beneath the technician's right eye for emphasis. "Have I made myself clear?"

  "Very."

  "Excellent." Once again, there was no pleasure in the smile he brought to his lips, nor did he mean for there to be. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a wife and a club to attend to."

  With that, he retracted the blade.

  Hernández was still perspiring as Joe turned away from the man to round the partition and depart the pharmacy.

  It was only when he had closed the outer door and cleared its window that he stopped to lean down and draw up the cuff of his jeans. Suspicion pushed in, rivaling the fury of minutes before, as he slipped his blade into his boot. His anger also returned as he straightened and strode down the empty corridor. This time ten-fold.

  Teresa. Surely, she had not—

  But when he saw her waiting for him at the elevators, holding open the doors of the nearest one with the small of her back, he knew she had. He reached and twirled her into the lift, sealing her face first and spread-eagle to the wall. As the elevator doors closed, he reached out with his free hand and pressed the stop button to keep them so. The telltale tinge in her cheeks having already alerted him to the fact that her anger was still riding high as well, he took care to lock her wrists securely above her head with his left hand as he reached down with his right, slipping his fingers beneath the cuffs of her nursing trousers. He searched one shapely calf, then the other.

  It was as he suspected. She carried no protection.

  He drew his breath as well as his fury in sharply as he skimmed his hand over her thighs, her hips and then the dip at her waist. She suffered the indignity of the weapons search in silence until he reached the upper curves of her breasts—for he had jerked his fingers away far too quickly as he finished searching the deep valley he found.

  "What's wrong? Can't handle the excess?"

  He blinked down upon the curls tumbling down her back. Surely, she would not dare to taunt him now?

  But she had.

  She tsked softly. "You should have asked Eddie for pointers. He was doing fine before you showed up."

  ¡Carajó!

  He wrapped his arm about her waist and spun her about to seal her back against the wall of the elevator, locking his thighs to her legs for good measure—as well as his own masculine protection. "How dare you approach that man unarmed?"

  "I wasn't—"

  "You have no blade!"

  But she did have her hands. And in his haste to keep her knees from his groin, he now realized she had managed to free one of those hands. For while the fingers of her left were firmly meshed within his, those of her right were now locked to that very portion of his anatomy he had originally sought to protect. The woman now had him by the cojones—quite literally. He himself had taught her the move years before.

  Most impressive.

  Though he would have thought it more so, if she had not been using it so effectively upon him at that moment.

  She smiled—but like those he had bestowed upon Hernández, the curve held little humor. "So, tell me, Agent Cortez, should I bother returning the favor of the search? Or would you prefer to cry uncle here and now, and be done with it?"

  He opened his mouth—and her fingers tightened.

  At that moment, he would have submitted willingly to either alternative she had already offered rather than suffer the humiliation of the one his body had opted to choose for him.

  "My, my. You seem to have a bit of excess yourself."

  Unfortunately, her husky admonishment, as well as the knowledge that she would never truly harm him, only served to cause that excess to increase. He closed his eyes in order to protect his heart as he pleaded softly, "Tessa…release me."

  "Why?"

  He eased the remainder of his breath out only to draw another, more painful breath in. "Because I am…asking."

  He felt her nod. "Fair enough. But frankly, in light of everything that's been happening between us lately, I have to confess, I'm a bit surprised as to the amount, as well as the force, of your…excess. So as long as I have your undivided attention, I'd like you to answer a question for me, okay? Just one simple question—and, remember, I require the truth."

  He waited in dread, already knowing her question.

  "Who is she?"

  Dios mío, not here. Not now.

  Not with her hand locked to his—

  But it was no longer locked. Indeed, those slender fingers now fairly cradled him right through his pants, all but stroking all of his…excess. Caressing. And in the silent, blissful moments that followed—as that same excess increased even more—he could not have moved to save his soul.

  "Joe?"

  He could not answer, but he did manage to open his eyes. However, so aroused was he that he no longer cared to find the blue and not the soft green he so loved staring back at him. For despite their color, her eyes were filled with hunger and with passion—for him. Dios as his witness, he tried to ignore it as he had so many times this past week. But the invitation that came with it, the promise of love and of surcease from a lifetime of confusion and of pain, as well as the unending craving for this woman, was simply too strong. The answer slipped free.

  "You."

  She blinked. "Wh-what?"

  "I love you. No one else. Tessa, I swear to you on the grave of my mother, there is no other woman in my life. There has been no other woman for a very long time. Only you. Always you."

  And then, he lowered his head and kissed her.

  Softly at first. Slowly. But with ever-increasing persistence.

  Soon her hand fell away from the wall of the lift to grip his shoulder as he cupped his fingers about her neck, tilting her jaw with his thumbs as he delved his tongue between those gently bowed lips and into the sweetness of her mouth. He felt the soft catch of breath inside her throat, and a moment later her other hand released him to reach up for his opposite shoulder as she finally kissed him in return.

  And then, those slender arms were sliding about his neck and pulling him so very close. He was aware of the warmth of the salt washing down into their kiss, but he could not have said to whom it belonged.

  Nor did it matter. All that mattered was that he was kissing her as he had never kissed another woman.

  With love.

  It freed him. For somehow it was giving him the strength to savor her unique taste over and over, with no thought to the how or the why or even when this moment would end. Surprisingly, he also felt no blinding need to copulate, no need searing through him at all, save one. The simple, burning desire to prove to this woman with his lips and with his tongue that, although he could never take her into his bed, she was the only woman he would ever take into his heart.

  He did not know how long they stood there, holding the other, kissing, loving. He only knew it would never have been long enough.

  He did not want it to end.

  But end it must, and soon—for he must not have pressed the elevator stop button in completely, because the lift had lurched into motion. It was now humming softly around them as he drew
the kiss to its conclusion. Even now, as he skimmed his lips over her damply fanned lashes, then pressed them to the lightly scented flesh at her temple, he could feel the lift coming to a halt. He straightened as the doors slid open behind them and tipped her chin once again, staring deeply into the love, as well as the confusion, now swirling within her eyes.

  "We will talk when your shift is done, sí?"

  She nodded mutely.

  He released the tresses wrapped about his fingers before sliding the tips of those same trembling fingers across her lips, flushed and swollen from his kiss.

  Then he turned, nodded once to the elderly gentleman holding the door for him, thanked the man politely—and left.

  He was gone.

  She'd suspected it when she'd driven into the apartment complex and parked her Jeep next to the empty slot assigned to Joe's truck, but the moment she'd slid the key into the lock of the apartment door and opened it, she knew.

  Joe wasn't home.

  Tess entered the hollow emptiness and closed the door, searching the back of the cheap, white-washed slab just in case he'd left a note. Nothing. Not so much as a yellow stickie. Then again, Joe might've come up with a lead last night. Something he hadn't wanted to fill her in on until he'd had a chance to check it out.

  It was possible.

  Not to mention that it would explain the one-eighty change in Eddie's behavior when she'd shown up at the pharmacy two hours after their grope-session to drop off the narcotics spot-check inventory. Sure, the man's boss had returned by then. But even the addition of a lurking, drooling audience couldn't explain why Eddie had fairly snatched the sheet from her hands and then hustled her on her way. Heck, Eddie hadn't even let her inside the door. There was no way that paunchy, beady-eyed pharmacist could instill such a response in a man like Eddie Hernández.

  Only one man could.

  Joe.

  Whatever Joe had said to Eddie had put the fear of God into the man. And from what she'd seen, that fear was there to stay.

  It was time to face the fact that Eddie was going to need a new primary handler—because she sincerely doubted the tech would be giving her the time of day after his little chat with Joe. At least, she was fairly sure whatever had transpired between the men had taken the form of conversation. After all, she had noted the presence of all ten fingers as Eddie grabbed the narcotics sheet.