“You may change your mind,” he warned.
But she wouldn’t. Nothing he said was going to convince her that she didn’t want another kiss.
* * *
BOLT’S EVERY MALE chromosome ached to tell her that he would make love to her all night, all day and into next week if that was what she wanted. Nibbling on her delicious mouth and her delectable breasts had only been the appetizer. His body was hungrily demanding a ten-course feast, and he wanted to devour every savory inch of her.
And yet, his conscience wouldn’t let him. When he hadn’t believed in the perfume bottle’s paranormal powers, it was fine to make love to her if she wanted him to. But after witnessing her reaction to Hathaway and his “party,” Bolt could no longer deny that Amanda was influenced by a power he couldn’t explain.
He’d read her dossier, and her past had revealed that Amanda wasn’t the kind of woman to take a lover lightly. She’d had only two relationships, one during her last two years of college, the other a few years ago. In both cases, she’d known the men for a long time before she’d become involved.
And knowing what he did about Amanda, knowing what Kincaid had told him about the perfume bottle, he now believed they needed to talk about the perfume bottle’s effect before he went further. Taking her away from the monitor and Hathaway had been the first step. Already he could see the haze clearing from her gaze and the questions beginning to arise.
He gritted his teeth and attempted to ignore his aching balls, his pounding lust, his need to sheathe his sex inside her. Amanda was no longer a woman in a file. She was his partner and he wanted her respect. And he couldn’t earn that if he took advantage of her.
Gently he placed her on his bed and pulled a sheet over her so he wouldn’t be distracted by all her tempting flesh. He had to say this right. Combing his fingers through his hair, he considered where to begin, but with her dark hair fanning the pillow and her curious eyes on him, he was having difficulty collecting his thoughts.
“What I’m about to tell you is going to sound farfetched at best.”
She nodded and he appreciated her patience. He took a seat beside her, propped a pillow behind his back and flipped the sheet over his erection, hoping out of site would equate to out of mind. Not likely after what they’d so recently shared, but he wanted her full attention on his words.
She rolled onto her side, and elbow crooked, propped her head on her palm. Her other hand, she rested lightly on his knee. “I’m listening.”
“I believe that somehow the paranormal effects of the perfume bottle Hathaway stole turned you on.”
She snorted. “Now, there’s a leap in logic, especially since I’ve never seen the bottle, let alone touched it.”
“We don’t know how the paranormal effects work. Maybe the bottle emits a scent into the air and you breathed it in.”
“The only time I’ve been near Hathaway was during that party last night. You think I breathed in an aphrodisiac, and it didn’t activate in my system until now?”
“Suppose the drug activates when a key word is spoken,” he suggested. “Maybe Hathaway said something on the monitor that made you respond.”
She eyed him warily. “Is such a thing possible?”
He shrugged in frustration. “I don’t know. Our mission is to reclaim the bottle for its rightful owner, not necessarily figure out how it works. You never so much as shook Hathaway’s hand last night, right?”
“Correct.” She hesitated, shivered, then wrapped the sheet tighter around her. “But he looked at me oddly.”
He tried not to frown. “You mentioned that before. Can you explain it a little better?”
“It’s difficult to describe. But even at the time, I noticed that I couldn’t look away. As if his drilling stare compelled me to…to…”
“To what?”
“I don’t know. It just felt weird. Then I met you and I forgot about him.” She swallowed hard, but bravely held his gaze. Bolt realized that if he ever married, he’d want a partner as courageous as Amanda. “Do you believe I was immediately attracted to you at the party due to something Hathaway did?”
“It’s possible.” He suspected that admitting such private thoughts was extremely difficult for her. Yet, she did so in such a straightforward and honest manner that his compassion soared and made his determination to protect her harden.
She lowered her tone but her words were clear. “And then when I practically attacked you just now…that’s not exactly characteristic behavior for me.” Her fist tightened in the sheet. “I was drowning in lust. Out of control. I could think of nothing but having you. Even now the residual effects may still be in my system. I may not be thinking clearly. I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Her eyes flickered with pain before she looked away and gestured to his groin, where he remained at half-mast. “Obviously you didn’t want to go through with—”
“Nothing could be further from the truth.” How could she think he didn’t want her? Even now, his blood still simmered and he ached with the lack of release. After what she admitted, he could do no less than the same. “I wanted you. I still do. But I wouldn’t take advantage of a woman who’d drunk too much alcohol. And whatever affected you was out of your control. I thought we should be on the same page before…continuing.”
“I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” She needed to hear it all, his every hypothesis and ugly suspicion because if they were going to keep on working together she would do so with her eyes wide-open and every theory at her disposal. “If you continue as my partner, it’s likely that Hathaway will repeatedly trigger the same reaction from you. This is going to sound crazy…but I’m prepared to keep you satisfied so that you won’t fall under his complete influence.”
Her eyes went wide and her face flushed. He didn’t believe she was blushing from embarrassment. On the contrary, she seemed turned on by the idea. But was her reaction due to a genuine attraction to Bolt? Or due to the effect of the damn bottle? He wished he knew.
“So you’re volunteering to keep me sexually satisfied?” Her tone rose into an almost hysterical giggle.
“It may be necessary.” He shrugged. “If you back out now, I’ll understand.”
“Why didn’t you tell me everything right from the beginning?” she demanded, her eyes flashing with heat.
“Because I didn’t really think this could happen. And even if I’d told you, I didn’t think you’d believe me anyway.”
“And what changed your mind?”
Knowing his words might frighten her, he nevertheless told her the truth as he saw it. “You went from a regular conversation to hot so fast that the change seemed…uncontrollable.”
She bit her bottom lip, rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. “If I back out, what would you do?”
At the question, disappointment shot through him. “I’d find someone else. But you were our first choice.”
“Because of my sister?”
“And because of your FBI training.”
She spoke slowly. “I don’t know what to say. I want to nail Hathaway for Donna. I want to clear her name. And if he’s manipulating other women… I’d like to stop him, too.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “Suppose he sets me off when you aren’t around?”
“That won’t happen.” He couldn’t keep the growl from his tone.
“And you’re ready to…to…”
“Keep you so damn satisfied that you aren’t going to want anyone but me.”
* * *
AMANDA WANTED TO SAY yes to Bolt’s plan, but was she thinking clearly, or was the sexual haze of pleasure Bolt had created clouding her judgment? Or was the damn bottle responsible for her yearning to toss all caution aside and allow Bolt to take care of her every sexual need?
He certainly was capable of doing so. She had no doubts about that after her wondrous orgasm.
But the idea of being out of control unnerved her.
Amanda didn’t ever drink more than a glass of wine. She didn’t do drugs. The notion of the bottle messing with her mind scared her on several levels. If she couldn’t trust her own feelings, then she’d have to rely on Bolt—a man she’d known for barely twenty-four hours. He was asking for a lot of her trust, perhaps more than she had to give.
Although she was well aware of the Shey Group’s reputation, Hathaway was a dangerous man. He’d proven that by getting away with murder. And they weren’t dealing with normal criminal activities. If the bottle affected her mind, they had no idea what Hathaway might influence her to do.
And yet, Amanda recalled the last time Donna’s enthusiastic voice had zinged through the telephone lines. She still remembered every word they’d exchanged and her own thoughts at the time that now left her with so much guilt.
Donna had sounded so vibrant. “Sis, Hathaway’s the best boss I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah, right,” Amanda had snorted then sipped her coffee, pleased to hear her sister’s sarcasm rather than more bitterness over her recent divorce.
Ever since Donna’s cheating, no-good ex had left her, Amanda’s younger sister had sworn off men for good. So her phone call revealing a new attitude had come as a welcome surprise.
Perhaps Donna’s sudden job change had done her good after all, at least improving her sense of humor. Her sister hadn’t been thinking clearly for months, so Amanda had feared she’d taken the new job based on the wrong reasons. Last year, after Donna had successfully proven the viability of her patent, she could have written her own ticket in the defense industry. McDonald Douglas had offered her stock perks and a golden parachute to woo her to their company. But when Donna’s husband had left their marriage for a stage starlet, Donna had careened into a one-eighty-degree career change.
Amanda had never understood her sister’s insistence on leaving a job where she was highly paid and respected to one where she’d be treated like a piece of meat. Modeling was not known to help a woman’s self-esteem. Why a woman with a genius IQ would want to model for Hathaway Balkmandy was beyond Amanda. But high intelligence didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with good judgment and Donna had always been flighty, requiring Amanda to be the steady, practical sister ever since their parents had died.
After months of talking doom and gloom, Donna was brightening up the phone lines with her enthusiasm. “My boss Hathaway is so rich he’s promising to fly me to Paris for the spring shows on a private jet.”
Amanda laughed. “Glad to see you’re over Ryan.”
“Ryan? Who’s Ryan?”
“That’s the spirit.”
Amanda had been head cheerleader as well as both mom and dad to her sister for well over a decade. While her brilliant sister had skipped two years of high school, then went on to earn her Ph.D. in record time, Amanda had had no choice but to grow up fast. Judging by the mistakes her sister had made, as a surrogate parent, Amanda hadn’t done such a great job.
Amanda wasn’t sure where she’d gone wrong. Perhaps she’d been too overprotective. But what twenty-two-year-old was prepared to parent a rebellious sixteen-year-old?
“There’s only one problem,” Donna chattered on.
“You snagged a nail and need another manicure?” Amanda teased.
“Very funny. Modeling is hard work, you know.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s very taxing on your brain,” Amanda muttered, then could have bitten her tongue for speaking so freely. She’d put herself through college on the life insurance her parents had left, then worked double shifts to put Donna through, too. And she couldn’t hide her concern. But who was Amanda to say that her sister wouldn’t be happier peddling her good looks than using her brain?
She sighed. She just wanted her sister to be happy. Odd, how Donna had gotten the brains and the good looks, yet of the two women, Amanda was much happier. Perhaps she didn’t expect as much. She didn’t seem to have Donna’s highs and lows, living in the saner middle ground. Down to earth and practical, she was the provider, the one who everyone depended on in a crisis.
Amanda had done her best and thrown her heart into parenting her sister, but it had been a rocky road at best. Yet despite her single-minded endeavor to raise her sister in a practical and levelheaded manner, Amanda’s efforts hadn’t prevented Donna from piercing her tongue, her navel and probably several other areas that Amanda would rather not know about. But Amanda had thought her worst mistake, by far, had been urging Donna to marry Ryan. Amanda had believed marriage would settle her sister. And in truth, she’d looked forward to sharing the responsibility and expense of her sister, who never seemed to earn enough money to support her expensive taste in clothes.
“So what’s the problem?” she asked her sister, expecting another one-liner.
“Hathaway’s so exciting that every woman who comes near him wants him as much as I do.”
“What?” Amanda almost spit her coffee onto her desk. “You aren’t serious, are you?”
“Of course I’m serious. The man is so cute—”
“Please.” Amanda’s concerned-sister radar went into overdrive. “I thought you’d sworn off men.”
“I did. But Hathaway is amazing, and I’m not talking about his talent for picking models, or his 5th Avenue penthouse, or his stretch limo.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“The man has charisma with a capital C.”
“So does Quentin Tarantino. That doesn’t mean I’d date him.”
“Hathaway may like to party, but he’s a businessman, first and foremost.”
Amanda barely restrained another snort. Hathaway might be wealthy but she thought of him in the same light as Larry Flynt and Hugh Hefner, certainly not suitable husband material. “Let me get this straight. You’re attracted to him?”
“Along with every other woman in N.Y.”
Amanda wanted to shout at her sister to take the next train out of Manhattan. Every muscle in her tensed as she tried to remember that Donna was now a grown woman and had to be allowed to make her own mistakes. But those mistakes always had consequences and somehow it always remained Amanda’s task to come barreling to the rescue.
She attempted to keep her temper under control. Good men weren’t easy to find—and N.Y.C. was notoriously hard on single women.
Besides, her sister had to be on an emotional roller coaster after her divorce, surely not thinking clearly. However, she might be brought to see reason with logic. Amanda strummed her fingers on her desk. “If Hathaway doesn’t think you’re special enough to ditch those other women for, then he has no taste. So why would you want him?”
“Because…he’s irresistible.”
Amanda should have hung up the phone, taken the next train into the city and dragged her sister out of Hathaway’s clutches. Instead Amanda had hoped Donna was going through a phase. Besides, at the time, she’d been trying to track down the “Soul of God,” an extremist group reputed to be importing a truckload of C-4 into Newark airport. Unfortunately her intelligence had never panned out.
And she’d never spoken to Donna again. Amanda still felt guilty for failing to stop her sister from working for Hathaway. She should have put aside her FBI work, given it to an associate and checked out the agent’s credentials, his reputation with women. If she had, she might have saved Donna’s life.
Amanda would go to her own grave wishing she’d done something to help her sister. But she hadn’t, and she’d lost her forever.
She wasn’t the kind of woman who usually involved herself in dangerous missions. Her forte was research, putting together hints of intel from a variety of sources to obtain the big picture. But she couldn’t banish the image of Donna’s body in a Dumpster. And to clear her sister’s name and help put away the man who’d murdered her, Amanda had to take a few risks. If she had to lose a little control and ended up making passionate love to sexy Bolt Tanner, well, that was the price she’d pay to do what must be done. In truth, even if Amanda hadn’t found Bolt
so attractive and considerate, she wouldn’t have decided differently. The fact that she would enjoy the particular decision was something she didn’t want to think about right now, especially while Bolt was waiting so patiently for her answer.
However, before she gave him a reply, she wanted to know more about Bolt. Turning back onto her side, she kept her tone level, ignoring that both of them were naked beneath the sheet. “Why did you take this mission?”
“Working for the Shey Group is what I do.”
“Did you know beforehand that you might be required to…that I might need…” She felt like an idiot for not being able to say she might need a stud service. But that made what he’d just done for her sound demeaning.
He grinned, asking her question for her. “Did I know that you might need my help remaining sexually satisfied to avoid the effects of a perfume bottle? Yes, I suspected. But I wasn’t certain.”
“Suppose you’d found me unattractive?” She watched him closely, expecting him to prevaricate.
But he responded simply. “Then I would have suggested another man take the job.”
“The decision was that easy for you?”
He ticked off points on his fingers. “One, I like what I do. Two, I’m well paid. And three, I was attracted to you from the moment I saw you. So the decision was pretty much a no-brainer.”
Curious that his thinking process was so straightforward, without all the ifs, ands and buts that she normally went through before deciding anything of major importance, she watched to see if the mention of emotions would cause him to back off or squirm. “But what if your feelings for me grew?”
He didn’t so much as blink. “That would be another plus, don’t you think?”
She laughed. “Are you always such an optimist?”
“What’s not to be optimistic about when I have a naked, beautiful woman in my bed?”
He had a point. But he obviously looked at the situation very differently than she did. He wasn’t the one whose mind was being messed with by a bottle. He wasn’t the one who didn’t know if he could trust his own thoughts and feelings. And he wasn’t the one whose sister had died.
Uncontrollable Page 6