by Mia Dymond
“I guess it’s a possibility.”
“Go with your gut.”
“She didn’t run, Jake.”
“That’s all the confirmation I need.”
“There’s more.” She swallowed hard. “I’m almost certain another woman is missing.”
His eyes widened and she could almost feel heat from the flames dancing within. “And you’re just now telling me?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” she hedged. “Brian claims they made contact with her sister.”
“Name.”
“Sidney Livingston, aka Sunny.”
“Again Bri, go with your gut.”
“She wouldn’t have gone without telling me.”
He didn’t respond as he exited the truck and then opened the passenger door and offered a hand. “We need to get a few things straight with Majors.”
She released a huff and slid her hand into his as she stood. “I’m a professional.”
“I’m aware.”
He held tight to her hand as he urged her up the sidewalk, frowning as they stood at the door. “There’s no way you have keys anywhere on your body.”
“Good grief.” She rolled her eyes and turned the doorknob. Instantly, the alarm system squealed until she punched the appropriate four buttons.
She gestured with her free hand to the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Muscles bulged beneath his clothing as he lowered himself to sit and then folded his arms across his chest. She suddenly felt the walls close in around her.
She lowered herself to sit in the chair beside him, the soft, cool leather somewhat of a comfort against her heated skin, and crossed one leg over the other. Although she didn’t really welcome the confrontation between Jake and Ryan, it didn’t overly concern her. She’d spent time with both men; after the expected posturing, chest thumping, and Tarzan yodeling, logic would prevail and they’d come to the conclusion that she was the one who held the upper hand.
She hoped.
Her stomach muscles quivered and she gave her bracelet a spin for good measure.
“Nervous?”
She raised her gaze to his and lifted both eyebrows. “No.”
“Sure about that?”
“Positive.”
Only the knock at the door broke the heated tension between them. Jake stood and opened the door. Her stomach took another dip.
“Majors.” Jake nodded at the other man and motioned him inside before closing the door.
“Rawlings.” Obviously oblivious to the look of murder on Jake’s face, the agent bent to kiss her cheek before he sat in a second chair opposite the sofa. “Hey, Bri.”
“Hello, Ryan.”
He glanced back at Jake. “So, you’ve discovered our secret weapon.”
“Why the hell didn’t we know she was involved?”
“For her protection.”
“Right,” Jake growled. “You were protecting her by planting her in a den of hungry lions with a t-bone tied around her neck.”
Bri bit back a giggle at Jake’s analogy, knowing full well that releasing it would only fuel his fire. She tried reason instead. “I don’t dance, Jake.”
“Doesn’t matter. As long as you’re there, you’re in danger.”
“I respect your concern Rawlings,” Ryan interjected, “but rest assured she’s knee deep in professionally-trained agents.”
“Oh yeah? Where were those agents an hour ago? I breezed right on through without a second look.”
The other man shrugged. “Right outside the door.”
“Ryan,” Bri moaned. “You put them that close?”
Another lazy shrug. “Had to. You wanted Rawlings to disable the camera.”
She groaned and glared daggers at Jake. “Are you satisfied? Obviously they watch me very closely.”
“Not quite, sweetheart.” He ran a hand across the top of his head. “She’s blonde when she’s there, Majors.”
“Well, her own hair pretty much flashes like a beacon.” Ryan winced. “No offense, Bri.”
“None taken,” she mumbled.
“So it’s okay to dress her up so a lunatic can snatch her too?”
Although Jake’s admission shook her nerves, professional training allowed her to remain non-reactive, skillfully dodging the testosterone-dipped arrows the men flung at each other.
“I asked you for a decoy, Rawlings.” Ryan folded his arms across his chest. “You have yet to comply.”
Silence blanketed the room and she took the opportunity to process Jake’s revelation. All three missing women were blonde, that she already knew, but up until this moment she hadn’t put much stock in the familiarity. In fact, she’d chosen a blonde wig only because it was at the opposite end of the color spectrum from her natural color.
Something close to anxiety made her heart flutter as she moved her gaze from Ryan onto Jake. Since he hadn’t bothered to sit, he braced himself against the back of the sofa, the knuckles of one hand white as he squeezed the cushion. It didn’t take professional analysis to uncover his emotion; no, the man was an open book at that moment – tense, angry and alpha all rolled into one incredible sexy male. Slowly she squeezed her legs together in an attempt to appease the throbbing between.
“I’m working on that,” Jake said finally.
“Well, until you find someone, I have no choice but to rely on her. Besides, we need her expertise.”
“I disagree. She’s told you everything she knows and leaving her in place only puts her in more danger.”
Realization suddenly nudged her; the earlier decision to experiment was the key to solving this whole case. She opened her mouth to speak and then abruptly closed it, thinking it better not to enlighten either man just yet.
Ryan lifted an eyebrow. “You have more information?”
“Nothing other than I believe your perp has an uncanny attraction for women with blonde hair. And that he offers them attention and flattery outside of a dance.”
“Nice cover.” Jake gave her another one of those panty-dampening smirks. “Whatever you’re thinking in that amazingly analytical brain, stop.”
“You wish.” She uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again.
“What else?” Ryan prompted.
“He’s obviously a smooth operator because to my knowledge, no one left kicking and screaming.”
“No evidence of foul play on video.”
“True,” Jake agreed, “but the dressing rooms are not videotaped.”
She wasn’t surprised by Jake’s argument. “Security watches us enter and exit.”
Neither man immediately spoke to challenge her statement, from confusion or frustration she didn’t know. What she did know was that Jake wasn’t ready to concede.
True to her prediction, he pinched the bridge of his nose and said the one thing none of them wanted to believe. “Then it’s an inside job.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Heat enveloped her body as Bri stood pounding on Dara’s door not thirty minutes later and although she could attribute most of it to the humid, summer evening, she knew Jake was also responsible. Damn that man and his ultimatums. That thought made her pound even harder and she nearly punched Dara in the nose when she finally flung open the door.
“Bri? Is everything okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I’m fine, Dara, I just have something to tell you and I wanted to do it now before I chicken out.”
Dara’s eyes widened. “You slept with Jake.”
“Huh?” Bri shook her head. “No!”
“You’re planning to sleep with Jake.”
Most definitely. “What?” Bri groaned as she stepped inside and pushed the door closed. “No, Dara.”
“I give up. What could possibly scare you more than that?”
“I’m not afraid to sleep with Jake.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Bri shoved her intended confession to the side as they entered Dara’s living room and she plopped down on the
sofa. “This I’ve got to hear. What brought you to this conclusion, Dr. Hamilton?”
“Well Dr. Miller, you’re afraid Jake will completely control you if you succumb.”
She paused for half a second, ready to issue a harsh denial, then swallowed hard and answered. “You’re exactly right.”
“But you’re wrong and somewhere in the depths of your mind you know it. Alpha males wear shining armor, Bri, but beneath all that steel lays a soft, mushy teddy bear. You already have that man wrapped around your little finger.”
Bri snorted. “Not quite.”
“Come on, Bri, do you think he honestly wanted a lap dance from anyone else?”
“He asked for a lap dance to be nosey. That, and he’s a man; we both know what he wanted.”
“He wasn’t on duty.”
“Doesn’t matter. He still wanted information from me – which brings me back to the reason I’m here.”
Dara squinted both eyes. “You’re up to something.”
She nodded. “But if I tell you, it has to remain a secret.”
“I’m not quite so sure you should tell me.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been incarcerated twice.”
Bri rolled her head against the back of the sofa, suddenly not quite so confident in exposing her plan to Dara. “Never mind. It was a stupid idea anyway.”
“Oh, no way.” Dara sat beside her, eyes wide and sparkling. “If there’s even a remote chance I might have to post bail, I need specifics.”
“No bail, I promise.” She lifted her head and took a deep breath. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
“You slept with him.”
“No, that I was honest about. My role at the Velvet Glove is slightly different from what I told you.”
“You know I support your talent.”
“Thank you, but there’s more. I’m working with the FBI as a profiler. Three girls have disappeared this month and I’m trying to figure out why.”
Dara blinked several times in succession. “Wow, I didn’t expect that particular confession and really, it’s kind of a bummer.”
“How so?”
“I expected something more mysterious. You working as a criminal profiler is just common sense.”
“Uh, there’s more.”
“More?”
Bri nodded. “Remember my experiment? I need to do some further research.”
“Uh-oh.” Dara shook her head from side to side. “Don’t do it.”
“You don’t even know what I’m planning.”
“No, but I know you. I repeat, don’t do it.”
“Aren’t you even the least bit curious?”
“Of course,” Dara huffed. “Lay it on me.”
“I’m going to use myself as bait by dancing.”
“Okay, so now I really stand by my earlier statement. Are you totally insane?”
“I’d like to think I’d know if that were the case,” Bri drawled.
“This is incredibly dangerous.”
“I’ve thought about this a lot, Dara, and even though I’ve determined a viable profile, girls continue to disappear. If I can grab this lunatic’s attention, I can stop him.”
“There’s just one obstacle you haven’t considered – Jake.”
“What Jake doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
“Yeah, no.” Dara lifted an eyebrow. “You know as well as I do that Jake will find out and when he does I, for one, am seeking underground shelter.”
Although she totally agreed, Bri giggled at her friend’s drama in an attempt to dispel any concern – mainly her own. “Agent Majors will put men in place. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m still opposed.”
“You won’t say anything to Jake, right?”
Dara snorted. “You’re absolutely correct in that assumption. I won’t say a word to Jake.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, about Agent Majors. Is he romance hero material?”
She nodded slightly. “He’s another alpha.”
“How does he compare to Mace?”
“Mace?”
“Detective Turner.”
Bri welcomed the sly smile that separated her lips. “You’re on a first name basis with Alpha Number Three?”
“Hey, that’s pretty good! Can I use that?”
“Come on Dara, what’s the deal with you and Mace?”
“There is no deal, really, he just came to see me a couple nights ago.”
“Why?”
“He just wanted to talk.”
“He was on a fishing expedition.”
“Yes, but unfortunately I didn’t bite.”
“But not because you didn’t want to.”
“Geez Bri, you’re feisty tonight.”
“Sorry. It’s all Jake’s fault. Telling me what to do like I’m a two-year-old.”
“Ya know,” Dara said as she raised her eyebrows, “it might be fun to let Jake tell you what to do.”
“Now who’s feisty?”
“I’m just saying ...”
“I’m assuming Mace asked why I was at the Glove.”
“He did and I used psychology 101 – redirect to allow the patient to draw his own conclusion.”
Bri giggled as she stood, relieved that Dara had distracted her anger toward Jake. “I love you, sister. You’re definitely one in a million.”
“You remember that when you open one of my novels and read something very familiar.”
Bri hugged Dara then headed out the front door. “Remember, Jake is the enemy.”
“For now.” Dara grinned. “I won’t hold my breath.”
***
Somewhere in the depths of unconsciousness, Mace thought for sure someone had a death wish. The piercing ring of his cell phone broke the peaceful waves of sleep and insisted he answer. Hell. The one night he was off duty at a decent hour and Rawlings was preoccupied by an argument with Bri – someone had better be dead. Literally.
He crammed the phone to one ear. “Turner.”
Silence greeted him. He pulled the phone back and glanced at the screen. Missed call. Dara Hamilton.
Now insanely curious, he pushed re-dial. After several rings, her sexy, breathy voice answered. “Hello?”
“Dara?”
“Mace?”
He rolled over and smashed his phone closer to his ear, his libido now fully awakened. “Dara? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing really. She released a soft sigh and his dick went on full alert. “I need your help.”
“Where are you? I’m on my way.”
“No! Please, just stay put. I just have information I think you need.”
“Oh.” A hard breath left his lungs in relief. “Lay it on me.”
“I feel like such a traitor,” she hedged.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No, sorry, I’m just trying to convince myself that it’s okay to roll over on my best friend.”
He smiled at her terminology. “Roll over, huh?”
“Yes.” His cock twitched at the sound of her soft giggle. “It sounds silly when you say it.”
He waited patiently for her to elaborate, somewhat concerned by her hesitation. He tucked the phone in the crook of his neck, lifted his arm and squeezed the knob on his watch to illuminate the face.
“Dara, it’s three o’clock in the morning. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good. I’m here for you until my nine o’clock briefing in the morning.”
“Can we play twenty questions? I wouldn’t feel so bad about being a rat if you guessed.”
Again, her lingo made him smile. “I’d rather not.”
“Fine,” she groaned. “Bri’s planning to use herself as bait at the Velvet Glove.”
“Holy shit.”
“Exactly.”
“Did Agent Majors suggest this?”
“No, that’s what concerns me. She hasn’t to
ld anyone else.”
He whistled low under his breath. “Jake’s gonna flip out.”
“Um, yeah. Be careful when you tell him.”
“Me?”
“Of course. You’re his partner.”
“You’re the nark.”
“Don’t remind me,” she mumbled.
“Relax, Dara, I’ll tell him.”
“Thank you, detective.”
“I thought we agreed you’d call me Mace.”
“Mace,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I called so late. The pressure finally got to me.”
He stuffed two pillows behind his back and eased against them. “It’s a good thing you’re not a criminal, Dara-the-rat, or you’d crack like an egg.”
“Not necessarily. I write mysteries for a living, remember?”
“Sure, but you also write sex.”
She groaned. “I should have never told you.”
“Why?”
“Because now you’ll never take me seriously. Every time I see you I’ll worry that you’re thinking about sex.”
Too late. His dick jumped. “Believe me, I’d much rather associate you with sex rather than criminals.”
“Oh, well I guess that’s true.”
“Are you working on another book right now?”
“Not at the moment. I just finished one.”
“Something I might like?”
Her gentle laugh crossed the line and gave his cock a nice, long caress. “You read romance novels?”
“I might start now.”
“Sinful Rapture, available at all major booksellers and a vast number of online retailers.”
He paused, careful not to reveal the admission that he’d attempted to purchase that exact novel. “I’d rather have an autographed copy.”
“I’ll make you a deal. Since you agreed to confront Detective Rawlings, I’ll deliver it myself.”
Tonight, his body demanded.
Her soft yawn pulled him out of his newfound lustful appreciation of her talent. “I’ll leave Bri in your hands, Mace. I’ve got a conference call with my agent and editor in a few hours. Thank you for your help.”
“You’re more than welcome. Just don’t forget my book.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Sonuvabitch, Rawlings!”
Jake swung the cruiser around a curve and then took his eyes off the road only long enough to glare at his partner who now wore a nice green pallor with one hand braced against the car door, the other clutching the seatbelt across his chest.