Strip Search

by Shayla Black

  "You should be happy he's gone," Nicki pointed out. "You didn't seem that fond of him"

  "I don't like the idea that he hurt you, but anyone who saved your life three times and paid off a huge loan to get Uncle Pain-in-the-ass out of your hair deserves a medal in my book."

  "He didn't just hurt me; he broke my heart," Nicki pointed out, voice sharp. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

  "Always yours, Sis." Lucia hugged Nicki and winked. What the hell was up with that?

  "So, do you have time to see one more today?" Lucia asked, then glanced toward the stage door.

  "One more audition?" Nicki frowned, shuffling through all the papers in front of her. "I don't have any more applicants. I'm going to have to pick one and try to be happy with the choice."

  "This one showed up last minute. I thought you might be interested."

  And Lucia smiled once more. She was looking entirely too pleased with herself. Maybe Mr. Last Minute was a huge hottie.

  Would you notice if he was?

  Without Mark, she was feeling decidedly numb from the waist down. It wasn't fair! He was probably in New York, burying his past by living the party life with a different gorgeous woman every night. He'd probably already repressed the memory of her face and patted himself on the back for getting out of Vegas, out of her life, so quickly and easily. While she ... well, since Mark had gone, she'd returned to having the personal life of a nun.

  "I don't know. They're all starting to run together at this point."

  "Poor you, having to look at half-naked guys all day. Life's tough."

  Nicki shrugged. "I didn't notice you exactly cheering after any of the earlier auditions."

  "True, but you said yourself when you started this morning that you never know when you're going to find the right one. This guy may be it."

  Geez, she was relentless today. "All right, all right. Bring him in. If he's got you looking at a man besides Blade Bocelli, I'll kiss him on the spot."

  Lucia blinked, suddenly all innocence. "I haven't looked at Blade like ... that."

  Nicki shot her a dubious stare. "This afternoon when he passed through here all decked out in his bad-boy best, I thought I was going to have to pick your tongue up off the floor."

  Come to think of it, the way Blade had looked at Lucia was even more hungry. For as long as Bocelli was here, she'd better keep an eye on those two ... And it better not be long. He was her uncle's lackey, and she wanted him gone. She'd told him as much, too.

  "Do you want to see this audition or not?" Lucia snapped.

  "I said I would."

  "Good. And it doesn't matter if he moves me. If he moves you, definitely kiss him."

  Before Nicki could question that odd comment, Lucia disappeared up the stage.

  The door opened, then closed, a squeak that reminded her she still hadn't bought any WD-40.

  The lights dimmed until the room turned damn near dark. Nicki frowned. Did this guy need major drama for an audition?

  Slow footsteps crossed the stage. The shadow of figure, tall, broad, rippling with power took his place in the center. Golden hair backlit by a dim overhead light, face concealed by intriguing shadows, white shirt with a turned-up collar, black pants--amazingly sleek. But the way he moved ... it brought memories careening back.

  Nicki's heart didn't just stop; it left major skid marks.

  No. It couldn't be. Not Mark. This man had short hair. She could see the ends brushing the top of his stiff collar, hugging his scalp, flirting with the shadows about his face. But everything else ...

  No, it just couldn't be. Mark had gone. He wasn't coming back. No matter how tempting it was to hope that he would repair his scarred heart for her, it wasn't realistic. She had to stop wishing otherwise.

  "Can someone get the lights so I can see him?" she called impatiently. "I can't audition someone I can't see."

  Nothing but dark. Quiet. Damn it, where had her sister gone?

  "What's your name?" she asked the dark shadow on the stage.

  "Guess," he murmured.

  The voice--that oh-so familiar voice--sent a surge of lightning down her spine.

  Oh my...

  Before she could even complete the thought, a boom of music filled the air. A hypnotic beat followed, pulsing, seducing. The lights flashed on in a bright, blinding show, stunning her.

  Mark!

  Nicki gasped as he began to move, swinging his hips, shoulders rippling. Heat and shock flooded her insides, shutting down her brain. He was here? Here! A million questions formed ... then faded as his intent gaze lured then captured hers in its relentless grip. He looked at her as if she was dessert and he was a man with a serious sweet tooth.

  Her heartbeat took on the rhythm of a native drum. Breathing became secondary to looking at him, especially when he grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled it wide open, exposing miles of that glorious golden chest that made her mouth water and her fingers itch ... and her heart ache with what could have been.

  Desire hit her hard next. It was fair to say that she wanted the man--if want had suddenly taken on the same context as a life-altering craving.

  Then yearning jabbed her gut in a one-two punch, nearly flattening her. She wanted more than his body. She wanted him. She wanted his time, his laughter. She wanted his love. Mark had to know that. So why was he here, teasing her?

  He prowled closer, then unfastened the button of his leather pants. He winked at her before he reached for the zipper and pulled it down with all the speed of a teeth-grinding crawl. Beneath, she only saw more of those intriguing shadows. Was he naked under there?

  Even the possibility made what few breaths she was taking nearly impossible.

  Heat flashed over Nicki's skin as he stalked yet closer, closer, until only a narrow table separated them. So close she could see every inhalation make his abs ripple. So close she couldn't miss the pulse beating wildly at his neck. So close she couldn't escape that musky pine scent of his that sent her into hormone overdrive. So close she now read the determination in his hazel eyes.

  He had come here for some reason. The possibilities made hope way too sharp, because it jabbed her in the chest, right in the heart. It would be much safer to believe he was here to collect his money.

  Was it possible he'd come back for her?

  Then he touched her, reached out with those long brown fingers and caressed her face.

  His hand might have well been a live wire for the shock wave it sent through her. The man still affected her like no one ever would.

  The music stopped. Nicki closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Did she assume he was here for her? No, the money. Three hundred thousand dollars was a lot. Certainly, he'd want to collect.

  But why tantalize her with his half-finished striptease if he only wanted cash?

  "Open your eyes, Nicki. Look at me."

  Slowly, she complied. He wasn't a mirage. She could still see him standing there, all tall and solid and real. Still smell the heady woodsy scent of him enveloping her, both comforting and dangerous at once. Those eyes of his, wholly magnetic, seized her gaze again. But something was different. Very different. When she looked at him, his expression was wide open. She could suddenly read his every thought.

  He was nervous. As he drew his fingers away from her face, his hand shook. He wanted her--in a big, bad way. That's what the fire in his green-brown eyes shouted. And his stare also told her he believed that being here was more important than his next breath.

  Oh my...

  "You're not here to collect the money you gave my uncle, are you?" she whispered.

  He smiled, a hint of dimples flirting on his face. "No. I got a nice fat reward for bringing Zack in and turning the money over. Apparently he was wanted for several things and had swindled more than one person lately. So when I got the money, I sent it to your uncle on your behalf. Your business is all yours now."

  "Why?" She frowned, puzzled. If he said guilt ... Damn, that would kill her.

&n
bsp; "You found that cash. You deserved it, baby."

  Her heart stuttered. "But you said--"

  "A lot of really stupid things. Fucked-up things. I wish I could take them back." He walked around the table, removing the barrier between them. "I wish that more than anything."

  Just like that, the ice inside her began to crack.

  Mark knelt beside her chair and looked right into her eyes. His anxiety hit her first. But under that, she found more. Lots more. He took her breath away, not just with the whiplash of desire heating his eyes. But the warmth, like a thousand suns. It wrapped around her, suffusing her, like a comforting quilt.

  Hope burst in a spiked rush all through her. Her gut clenched. Tears slashed at her eyes. "Mark?"

  Her trembling voice betrayed her jumble of wishes and nerves and fear.

  He reached up and laced his fingers through her hair before settling his palm against her nape. God, he usually did that before he kissed her ... Her body knew that, too. She felt her breasts tighten, a rush of moisture down low Her heart began to thud.

  Well, at least she was no longer numb from the waist down.

  "I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry."

  Sincerity made his hazel eyes shine so green. His expression held no shutters, nothing closed off from her. Nicki had no doubt he absolutely meant every word.

  Slowly, almost reluctantly, he released her and peeled off his shirt completely. Then he turned his back to her and bowed his head.

  His scars. He'd cut his hair, and he was intentionally showing these scars that he'd hidden for years, to her. She held in a gasp of surprise.

  Now pink and fading with time against the warm gold of his skin, they were ill-shaped blotches, five of them that spanned his neck. They bespoke his pain, uncertainty. His tense shoulders told her without words how awkward and afraid he was.

  "I had three surgeries to have all this removed. I had radiation, chemo, more drugs than you can imagine. I got sick, lost my hair, lost my job, and puked my guts up until my toes turned blue. But I survived. And other than Kerry and my doctors, no one has seen these."

  Nicki ran gentle fingertips across the unusually soft pinkish skin. Mark didn't flinch, didn't move. He just let her touch. The amount of personal trust he'd placed in her lap wasn't lost on her. The question was, why?

  "Thank you for sharing that with me." She dropped her hand to his arm, squeezed. It felt so good to touch him ... but he wasn't hers to touch. Reluctantly, she withdrew her hands to her sides. "I know that was a very difficult time in your life."

  Mark faced her again. "Yeah. It was three terrible years. The cancer kept coming back, but I didn't give up until I beat it."

  "You're not a quitter."

  She smiled at him and wanted to believe his sharing meant something. But he had more to say--that was all over his face. She held her breath, hoping ... even though hope could be so painful. What if the only thing he had left to say was good-bye?

  "I'm not quitting now." His solemn face matched his vow-filled voice.

  Nicki blinked, surprise curling through her. Did he mean he wasn't giving up on them?

  "I want to explain what happened the night Zack was arrested. Will you let me?" he asked.

  He wanted to let her into his thoughts even more? Nothing in the world would have made her say anything but yes. She nodded.

  "I met Tiffany when we both worked at the bank. She seemed quiet and lost. She was new in town, knew nothing about working in a bank. I was assigned to train her to handle customers and be the branch manager's assistant." He swallowed. "We were both orphans from dirt-poor families. She leaned on me, made me feel ... important. My sister was grown and had just moved out on her own. I was alone, and I wanted a family. Tiffany made me believe she loved me and wanted to be with me for the rest of our lives. Getting married seemed like a logical conclusion."

  Hearing about his marriage ... It hurt. Granted, he'd said it was logical, rather than emotional, but somewhere he must have thought himself in love with her.

  "Mark, you don't have to tell me all the gory details--"

  "Yes, I do. I want you to understand. Five more minutes, please. After that, if you want me to go, I'll leave for good. But I have to explain."

  Nicki nodded, feeling the ice around her heart go beyond cracking to melting.

  "We'd been married four months," he said, voice solemn, "when I was arrested one day. It happened in the bank, in front of my wife, my peers, and my boss, who lusted after Tiffany. All the evidence pointed to me. I had opportunity to embezzle from the bank, and I had motive, since I owed eighty thousand dollars in medical bills."

  She gasped. "Didn't they investigate?"

  "Enough to see that I looked guilty. The Feds locked me up, set a trial date, gave me a public defender who didn't know his elbow from his ass, and left me to rot. If Kerry and Rafe hadn't come to my rescue, I would have been convicted and carted off to prison for about twenty years."

  Terror clenched her stomach. "Dear God! Mark."

  "But Kerry and Rafe did intervene. And they discovered that my own wife had framed me. Not only did she frame me, she only married me to frame me. And she tried to kill my sister. I found out later she was originally from Arkansas, her name was Ruthie Jo, her father was a traveling preacher, and she'd run away at fifteen and earned a living on her back for several years before deciding to find a more lucrative crime to commit. Despite being her first husband, I was just another victim in a long line of suckers."

  "I'm so sorry." Nicki's heart melted completely and broke for him. No wonder he was damaged. Trusting anyone not to lie and deceive after that had to be damn near impossible.

  "I picked up my life and moved to New York, close to Rafe and Kerry. I went to work for my brother-in-law. He's a fabulous hacker. He can crack just about any computer system in the world. As an accountant, he sucks, and lots of his cases require one. So I finished my CPA and added my brain to his.

  "When this case came, the opportunity to nail the bastard who introduced Tiffany to money laundering was something I couldn't pass up. I was supposed to come in here, gain your trust, get inside your books, and figure out who was guilty and how to prove it. I just didn't expect you."

  "Me?"

  He smiled, something gentle that made her lose her breath. "I had a ... um, very physical reaction to even a picture of you. You, in person, put me in meltdown. Getting to know you made all my barriers crumble. That night, on the kitchen table when I blurted that I loved you, I did. But I couldn't face it. Loving makes a man vulnerable, and I had a bad track record. You looked guilty as sin, and I couldn't ask you what was happening without blowing my cover. Even if I could have, I don't know that I would have trusted the answers. And through it all, I couldn't manage to stay away from you. I had to have you, touch you, be inside you every chance I could.

  "What I felt for you, it got deeper and deeper. And I grew more confused. I didn't want to believe you were guilty, but I'd been so horribly wrong before. I didn't know how to trust you. I couldn't trust myself."

  He sighed. Nicki wanted to interrupt, tell him that he didn't need to go on. She understood. Really. But she also saw that he needed to say this to her. This had to be the determination she saw on his face--the resolve to explain.

  Was he looking for forgiveness?

  She also hadn't missed the fact he thought he'd loved her once. Did he still?

  "Go on," she prompted softly.

  His hand tightened at the back of her neck. "This is the hard part."

  There was more?

  "When you and I talked in the Blue Hawaii suite, I'd finally let myself believe you were innocent. I wanted to take that leap of faith in you and in me. Tiffany had told me during our marriage that she loved me, but I realize now it never incited a need or an answer in me. The night you told me you loved me, I think my whole body exploded in happiness and pleasure. I knew I was in deep then. And it scared the hell out of me.

  "But after I let myself believe you
were innocent, I needed that to be true. Then you left me alone with Zack and his gun, and went after the money ... All I could picture was Tiffany all over again. And your betrayal hurt worse. A lot worse. I enjoyed helping Tiffany and having her look up to me. But I loved you, and the thought of your betrayal ripped my heart out."

  Nicki bit her lip as tears stung her eyes. "Oh, Mark, I--"

  "When I realized how bad I'd screwed up, I didn't know how to put it back together. Or if I should. I knew I didn't have my head on straight. What good was I to you when you deserved so much more? But I didn't want you to hate me forever."

  "I couldn't," she whispered. "I knew the problem. I just wish I knew how to help you."

  "You can start by forgiving me."

  How could she not? He'd been to hell and back, then come here to reveal his scars, both inside and out. He may not want her forever, but she admired his courage. And she still loved him.

  "You're forgiven," she promised. "I won't lie and say it didn't hurt, you accusing me, not believing in me. But I hated that you didn't believe in you, either."

  His brows drew into a frown. He was fighting emotion--and losing.

  "You're an amazing woman. I've had a few weeks to think, put my past into perspective. I have choices. I refuse to assume the worst again. My gut led me to you. My heart latched on to you. I fell in love with you, Nicki. That hasn't changed."

  He loved her? Really?

  Tears and smiles hit at once. Lord, her face was probably contorting and her nose turning bunny pink, but she couldn't stop herself. "I tried to forget you these last three weeks. But you're unforgettable."

  "Thank God." A relieved glance later, he grabbed her hands and squeezed and looked deep into her eyes, all the way to her soul. "Then if ... would you--I was hoping ... Damn, I suck at this." He sighed and squeezed her hands again and stared right into her eyes. "I want you to marry me, Nicki."

  Her mouth dropped open. "Marry ... You're sure?"

  He nodded, an anxious half-smile hovering over that tempting mouth of his. "Yes."