by Mia Dymond
Rachel dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “I don’t read those magazines. Only thirty three percent of the articles printed are based on fact anyway.”
He bit his lip. If she hadn’t read the tabloids, then his PR worked. He’d managed to convince her he was a careless, free spirit, loving and leaving women all over the world. Except he wasn’t.
Somewhere, down deep in his heart, a part of him wanted to set her straight. Why was that so important? He shook his head. Normally by this time of the evening he’d be naked, sweaty and satisfied. Yet, tonight he’d gotten more pleasure out of taking her to dinner. Even if she avoided his advances.
Max brought the car to a stop and stepped out to open the back door. Hawke took Rachel’s hand and led her through the front door of the office building.
“Hawke, this really isn’t necessary.” She frowned. “The building provides 24-hour security. I’ll be fine.”
He pulled her onto the elevator. “Good to know.”
He leaned casually against the wall railing as the doors closed. “Are there cameras in the elevators?”
“No, just in the hallways.”
He pushed himself off the railing. “So, no one could see what happened in here at any given time.”
“No.”
He moved closer and circled her with his arms, gently placing one hand in the small of her back. “And, if something did happen in here, only the occupants would know.”
Rachel answered with a slow nod.
“Do you want something to happen in here?”
Her eyes glowed in the heat between them. “Yes.”
Hawke swallowed her whispered consent as he lowered his head and captured her lips. Within seconds of contact, he fought the urge to wrap his fingers around her hair and pin her to the wall. To lift her skirt over her creamy thighs and drape one long, shapely leg across his hip. White-hot flames traveled the length of his body. A breathy moan left her lips and taunted his libido to put them both out of misery.
Yet, despite the electricity boiling his blood, his insides quivered at the tenderness of her kiss. His heart threatened to jump out of his chest. She felt so right. Warm, soft, pliable, his for the taking. But not here. Not now.
His head swam as he lifted his lips from hers. “Just for the record, Rachel, brains are beautiful.”
Hawke forced himself to release her long enough to push the button to open the elevator doors. Knowing full well they were now in the view of several strategically-placed cameras, he returned her to his embrace. With a heavy sigh, he placed a kiss on top of her head, then turned her and nudged her through the open doors.
“Sweet dreams,” he told her as the doors slid closed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Max tapped Rachel’s business card against the table as he waited for his team to arrive and wondered how the hell they were going to pull this off.
Manuel Diego was a crafty prick and when Uncle Sam called his SEAL team for help, Max knew the mission would be more than they bargained for. Chasing terrorists was a bitch, especially one who had managed to evade capture.
It hadn’t been his first choice to plant Hawke in his current role but he had to admit, so far so good. Hawke proved himself a dedicated soldier and better yet, a communications genius. They had yet to find a computer Hawke couldn’t hack. Who in their right mind would’ve ever known he also possessed rock star quality? Traveling the world as a major rock star had definite benefits and Hawke had opened several doors in the investigation. In fact, it had been Hawke’s undercover work that had brought them to Diablo, Arizona, hot on Diego’s heels. And, until Hawke got up close and personal with Rachel Newberry he’d been confident.
Maybe Steele would be a better candidate for extracting information. Steele’s combination of smooth talk and surfer-dude good looks pried information out of even the most stubborn bastard. He operated on the basic principle that even a criminal had his balls squeezed by the warm, promising grip of a woman, and Steele made it a point to find her first. Once he worked his magic, the criminal was putty in his hands. There was only problem with that scenario, Hawke would never agree. And, in all reality, Max couldn’t blame him. The mysterious Miss Newberry was one fine female specimen.
Max propped his scuffed combat boots on the table, folded his arms behind his head, and allowed his thoughts to drift back over the latest cast of characters in this mission. Most specifically, the stacked, blue-eyed blonde from the concert.
Normally he didn’t give Hawke’s groupies the time of day, but this one demanded his attention. His undivided attention. Compared to his six foot plus, she was tiny, just over five feet tall with an attitude twice her size, and his animal instincts roared to tame her. Yet, something about her spelled wild. He winced when his cock jumped. Oh, hell no. He slammed the door on his thoughts, relieved when the three other soldiers entered the suite.
He glanced at Steele. “Well, any red flags?”
“Maybe.”
Max eased to the front of the couch and waited for him to elaborate.
“Pacific Valley Heights is clean, however, Rachel Newberry is dodging shadows.”
“How so?” Max rubbed his jaw.
“She hasn’t been in Diablo long. She was employed by Bridgewater & Austin in New York City.”
“Impressive firm.”
“She left New York City in a hurry.”
Max’s gut clenched. “Why?”
“Apparently, her architectural degree wasn’t the only thing that impressed William Bridgewater. They were lovers for almost two years. When Bridgewater’s wife caught on, all hell broke loose. In the end, Bridgewater blamed the whole thing on Rachel and fired her. Rachel packed her bags and left town.”
Max snorted. “That’s it?”
Steele nodded. “So far. Cameron Tremaine is interesting, though.”
“Tell me about it,” Max muttered. “Has she done time?”
Steele snickered. “No, nothing like that. She doesn’t have a criminal record. She has, however, had a stalker in the past.”
“Who?”
“Ex-boyfriend. He is doing time. The arrest report is hilarious.”
“How so?”
“The responding officer found him with a black eye, a bloody nose, and his hands tied behind him with nylon.”
“Rope?”
“No...pantyhose.”
Max shook his head in disbelief and pinched the bridge of his nose. Pantyhose. She used pantyhose to tie up her stalker. Unbelievable. Resourceful, but unbelievable.
He wondered what kind of weapon she branded to beat him. Probably one of those high heeled contraptions she wore. The ones that made her legs go on for days. The same accessories that would look perfect on her naked body.
Someone cleared his throat and Max glanced up to see Hawke wearing a shit-eating grin. He quickly forced his thoughts away from Princess Seduction. In fact, the further away from her he stayed, the better.
Convinced he was back in his right mind, Max eased himself off the couch. “Any information about Rachel’s activities at Bridgewater?”
Steele shook his head. “Zilch. She had little contact with anyone but him.”
Max glanced at the second soldier. Best damn tracker he’d ever known. Silent and dangerous, able to slip undetected in and out of the darkness. “What about movement, Shadow?”
“I’ve followed her for a week. Same routine. No indication she meets anyone for a drop. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the green-eyed groupie went to the concert for one reason.”
Just as Max anticipated, Hawke jumped all over that accusation. “She’s not a groupie.”
Steele shot Hawke a puzzled glance. “Hawke, women who hang out back stage are groupies.”
“Well, yeah,” Hawke agreed, “but not Rachel. She actually ran away from me.”
Shadow steepled his fingers and grinned. “She’s playing cat and mouse.”
“No. She’s not interested.” Hawke released a heavy breath. “When I
took her to dinner, she held me at arm’s length the whole time. She thinks I’m a cocky, spoiled player.”
Shadow shrugged. “You are.”
Although he knew Hawk’s reasons for defending Rachel, Max still felt there was more to her reluctance. “The whole seduction scenario sounds fishy to me.”
Shadow grinned. “Why?”
“I know firsthand the blonde hellcat had to pull her backstage. Rachel obviously went by force.”
Hawke smirked. “The hellcat has a name, Captain.”
Steele and Shadow both lifted their eyebrows.
Max folded his arms across his chest and refused to fall for Hawke’s pitiful attempt to trap him. “All I’m saying is that Rachel doesn’t fit the prototype of a gold digger. And, her professional reputation is spotless.”
Max watched a mischievous grin cross Hawke’s face. “See? She came to see me.”
Shadow shook his head. “This assignment’s made you such a diva, Hawke.”
“So how does she fit in Diego’s organization?”
Despite his desire to defend Rachel, Hawke slipped back into soldier mode. “I intercepted an e-mail from one of her clients last week. Apparently, he sends a lot of foreign business her way. Plans are shipped to her in a standard cardboard tube. She adds the finishing touches, re-packages the product, and then returns them via courier.”
Shadow nodded. “Sounds plausible.”
Hawke’s eyes narrowed. “These plans, most for commercial buildings, never materialize. Not one structure exists.”
Shadow lifted an eyebrow. “There’s something else in those tubes.”
“Exactly.” Hawke shrugged. “My guess is plans for Diego’s nuclear weapons.”
“Sonuvabitch.” Shadow’s eyes widened. “You really think she’s a part of his network?”
Max answered for Hawke. “For now. We have to wait for Hawke to work his magic to know for sure.”
Hawke grinned. “My pleasure.”
Max took full advantage to wipe the cocky smirk from Hawke’s face. “You sure you’re up for this?”
“Hell yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Cut the bullshit, Hawke. It doesn’t take Einstein to see the chemistry between you two. You’ve got to keep your head in the game.”
“My head is in the game.”
“You’re sure it’s the right head? Because you can’t screw up. We have one chance with this guy.”
“Have I ever let you down, Captain?”
“No. Just so we’re clear.”
“Crystal. Besides, you work for me, remember?”
“I kick myself in the ass every day for letting you talk me into that.”
Steele snickered. “Where do we go from here, Captain?”
“Follow the plan. Hawke keeps up appearances. You and Shadow monitor the movement and communications.”
Hawke nodded. “Speaking of appearances, I’m scheduled to be in Sacramento Tuesday.”
“Convince her to go with you. While we’re gone, Shadow can tap the office. Steele, you have pest control.”
“Me?”
“Somebody has to make sure the office stays vacant.”
“Rachel and I are supposed to meet the housing committee Monday morning.”
“Where?”
“Same building as Newberry & Tremaine.”
Max stood. At least the place was secure. “Well then, let’s get this party started.”
***
Rachel felt moisture coat the back of her neck as she and Hawke entered the posh offices of the Pacific Valley Heights Neighborhood Association. With any kind of luck, the director would take one look at Hawke and approve the application without discussion. Unfortunately, Lady Luck always seemed to avoid her.
“Impressive place,” Hawke said from beside her.
Rachel forced a smile and nodded. “Image is very important to the Association.”
Rachel’s stomach dropped at the sound of determined, click-clacking high heels, so loud it echoed off the glass windows surrounding the reception area. Only one woman’s shoes pierced the tile like that. Well, only one woman’s other than Cameron’s.
“Good afternoon, Rachel.”
Rachel took a deep breath, adjusted her armor and prepared for battle. “Hello, Monica.” She turned to Hawke. “Jaydon Hawke, Monica Kensington.”
Monica gave Hawke her regular plastic smile. “No introduction necessary. So very nice to meet you, Mr. Hawke.”
Rachel stifled the urge to gag. “Hawke, Monica is the director of the neighborhood association.”
“Yes.” Monica’s smile never wavered. “Please, step into my office and we’ll review your application.”
Rachel couldn’t help but feel somewhat perplexed. She faxed Hawke’s application immediately after dinner last week. A phone call this morning confirmed their meeting. She and Hawke followed Monica into a back office and took two seats in front of an executive desk.
Rachel frowned. “I was under the impression we’d meet the committee this morning.”
Monica folded her hands in front of her. “Yes, well, that is normal protocol as you know, Rachel. However, there’s a problem with Mr. Hawke’s application.”
Rachel felt her blood begin a low simmer. “What seems to be the problem?”
“The board feels there are simply too many unfinished structures at the present time. We feel it best to wait to extend another invitation until the current projects are complete.”
The simmer grew to a full rolling boil and Rachel fought to keep her composure. “Those projects are all mine, Monica. The board is fully aware that the progress is on schedule and the homes will be completed by the target date.”
Monica gave a cocky sneer. “I’m sorry, Rachel, your assurance is simply not good enough.”
Rachel’s heart pounded and suddenly some very unladylike language lined up on the tip of her tongue. She opened her mouth to blast Monica’s explanation into a thousand, tiny little pieces when she felt pressure on her thigh. She looked down to see Hawke’s hand there, his fingers pressed into her skin. Immediately, putting Monica in her place became her second priority. She lifted her eyes to face him, ready to demand why he had distracted her. Instead, she only had time to wet her bottom lip before his mouth captured hers.
Caressing, massaging, easing hers open.
Lost in the desire of Hawke’s kiss, Rachel felt her anger dissipate, very quickly replaced by red hot lust.
And then he gave her lips one last peck and retreated.
Rachel blinked in an effort to clear her vision. Hawke raised an eyebrow. Monica cleared her throat.
Rachel turned back to Monica. Although she wasn’t convinced Hawke’s kiss helped matters, Rachel mentally stuck one hand on her hip and wagged a finger in Monica’s face. Take that and shove it right up your committee.
“Monica, you know as well as I do that Hawke’s application will be approved on his name only. The paperwork is simply a technicality.”
Monica’s face paled. “Well, I suppose I could make an exception.”
“You do that.” Rachel moved to the front of her chair. “Because if you don’t stamp that application approved in the next five seconds, I’ll call each member of the committee personally.”
Rachel waited as Monica hesitated, probably for Hawke’s benefit, and then reached into her desk drawer. In the next second, she thrust the application at Rachel, complete with approval.
Rachel gave her a smug smile. “Thank you. We’re due to break ground this afternoon.”
Monica’s face reddened. “You couldn’t have possibly gotten permits this quickly.”
Rachel shrugged as she and Hawke stood. “You forget who he is, Monica.”
And those were my lips he kissed.
Monica stood and tossed another plastic smile at Hawke while she extended a hand. “Yes, well, I apologize for the misunderstanding, Mr. Hawke. Welcome to Pacific Valley Heights.”
Hawke gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Than
k you, Ms. Kensington.”
“We can see ourselves out,” Rachel told her.
Once clear of Monica’s office, Rachel practically ran for the exit.
“Rachel,” Hawke said from beside her, “slow down.”
Rachel came to a screeching halt just outside a set of elevators. With a quick glance around the lobby, she grabbed Hawke’s hand and pulled him inside the first empty one. She gave the close button a hard slap and exhaled when the doors slammed together.
She counted to ten and desperately tried to slow her breathing.
Lost in her anger, Hawke’s voice reminded her she wasn’t alone. “It amazes me how well you women get around in those things.”
Rachel glanced at him and noticed he looked at her shoes. The two-inch Louis Vuitton sandals she’d bought at Cameron’s insistence. It was a wonder she hadn’t broken her neck.
She sighed to dispel her tension and then smiled for good measure. “Talent, I guess.”
Hawke reached to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “You okay?”
“Of course, why?”
“She was brutal, Rachel.”
“Maybe so,” Rachel agreed, “but we managed to get around her.”
Hawke chuckled. “We certainly did. You should’ve seen the look on her face after I kissed you.”
Rachel’s breath gave an involuntary hitch. Another incredible, mouth-watering, panty-dampening kiss. One she could’ve continued while undressing him and doing him right there on top of Monica’s desk.
The same one that couldn’t be repeated.
“About that kiss,” she began while her knees threatened to buckle.
Hawke’s low husky response didn’t help matters. “You liked it.”
She stood speechless, unable to dispute that fact. He took advantage of her silence and stepped closer. Against her will, she placed a palm on his chest to stop his movement. However, the warmth from his skin seeped into hers and made it doubly difficult to speak.
“Yes, I did.” She’d be a lying fool if she didn’t admit it. “But, I need you to understand something.”
Hawke’s eyes sparkled as he nodded for her continue and for a brief moment she questioned his ability to take her seriously.