by Tessa Bailey
Ailish hadn’t been teasing Henrik at all. She’d been too focused on his injury to notice much else, but he had all the classic symptoms of a teased male. His fists were balled, his breathing uneven. The bulging line of his arousal was breathtaking, a damp spot marking where the head sat, wedged inside the leg of denim. All because she’d been standing close to him? Ailish’s heart sped up. Imagine how he would react when she really turned it on.
“You shouldn’t be smiling right now.”
“I know.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Isn’t it awful?”
Suspicion tempered the heat in his gaze. “What’s the third fault?”
Thrills raced up and down Ailish’s back, weaving into her hair. “I like to torture men, Henrik. Maybe your undercover squad should have sent a woman.”
She knew her nipples were in hard peaks by the way he shuddered while looking down at her breasts. “I don’t understand.”
Ailish dropped her attention to the vee of his legs. “Are you sure?”
“Eyes up,” he rasped. “An answer, please.”
Never having been required to put her affliction into words before, it was difficult for Ailish to form an explanation. “I’ve learned to be satisfied when a man wants me. But…I don’t actually let him. Have me, that is.”
“Jesus Christ.” Henrik’s laughter was chock-full of pain. “I deserve this. That’s the fucking kicker.”
“Why do you deserve it?”
He raked both hands down his face. “You don’t want to know, Lish.”
She wanted to push, but her stubborn nature wouldn’t allow it. If he didn’t want to tell her, she wasn’t going to beg. “You have a pet name for me already. Can I come up with one for you?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I might like hearing you say it a little too much.” His attention was locked on her mouth. “I can’t have this conversation with a hard dick, Ailish.”
She sucked in a breath. “Do you have a plan to make it soft?”
His crack of laughter made her jump. “That plan can’t involve you.”
“Why?”
“Damn, you ask a lot of questions.”
Ailish’s shoulders sagged under the weight of disappointment. “Oh God. I have a fourth fault now, too?”
Henrik’s sigh blew her hair back like a stiff gust of wind. “While I’m with you, Ailish, I’m working. There are lines I can’t cross.”
Even knowing it was a little evil, nothing could suppress the pop of excitement in her belly. She was alone with a man—a gorgeous man—who wanted her. But had to keep his hands off. It was a tease’s paradise, and they were both screwed. Or not screwed, depending on your point of view. “We can’t sleep together.”
“No.” He dropped his needful gaze to her breasts again. “We can’t.”
She executed her best nonchalant shoulder shrug. “Oh.”
“You’re smiling again.”
Ailish couldn’t stifle her chuckle. Man oh man, she really liked this big ol’ bruiser, and they’d only just met. He deserved a fair warning about what he was getting himself into. “Henrik, you should probably put as much distance between you and me as possible. I really like that you want me. And I probably won’t be able to help trying to keep it that way.” She drew a lazy circle on his abdomen with her index finger, watching in awe as the ridged muscle shuddered under her touch. “For instance, I’d love to tell you I’m wearing cheap white panties and you can see clear through them in the right light.”
His body did this kind of heave, right at Ailish, flattening her backside against the sink. Their mouths were suddenly so close, she could feel his hot puffs of breath on her lips, feel his chest lifting and falling where it met her breasts. “I don’t like hearing that you’ve talked to other men that way.”
“I haven’t,” she whispered. “I don’t. I usually just—”
“I do not want to know.”
Henrik made a subtle move, just a downward roll of his hips that dragged his erection over the crotch of her leggings. But it wasn’t really subtle at all because he stopped right over her clit and nudged forward. She nearly jumped out of her skin, it was so unexpected, her body’s deluge of need so extreme. “H’oh boy.”
His mouth sifted through the hair covering her ear. “Tease me as much as you want. Just don’t try to send me packing again. Are we clear?”
“I told you I don’t like being ordered around.”
He rasped the stubble of his jaw against her neck. “You’d love the way I do it.”
Ailish’s outrage was shattered when Henrik pulled away, leaving her to sag back onto the sink. “You’re not the only one who can tease.” Her mouth hung open as he backed through the doorway into the bedroom. “Where do you keep those see-through panties?”
What had just happened here? She couldn’t deny her curiosity over wanting to see what he did next. Not very many things surprised her, but this man—he couldn’t seem to stop. Brow knit, Ailish pointed toward the top drawer of her dresser. She watched as Henrik remove a single pair, examined them a moment, and stuffed them into his back pocket.
“I’ll be watching the cabin, but you won’t see me until tomorrow morning. We’ll talk then about why I’ve been sent and your potential role in the investigation.” He paused at the door. “You’re safe, Ailish.”
Finally, she found her voice. “What about you?”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Men who anger my father don’t last long. Especially when I’m involved.” She hugged the bathroom’s doorframe. “Maybe that’s the real reason I think you should put distance between us.”
“What did I say about trying to send me packing?”
“I can say whatever I want because you just stole my panties.”
He held up a shiny black device. “And your phone. Say good-bye.”
“This friendship is over.”
His laugher followed him out the door.
Ailish frowned at the entryway for a moment before shutting off all the lights and slipping into bed. Time to consider the real matter at hand. Henrik was here to take her back to Chicago, to operate against her father. A terrifying possibility. Despite her father’s overprotective nature, he wouldn’t hesitate to mow down his own daughter if he perceived her as a threat. Running away with his money had already accomplished that task to a certain degree, but if he realized she was working with the cops? It would be the ultimate act of betrayal.
Could she believe Henrik Vance when he said cooperating had to be her decision? What if the police had really found new evidence against her to use as leverage—and this was just a ploy to bring her in peacefully?
She might have escaped her father, but she hadn’t escaped the one very important lesson he’d imparted. Trust no one.
Ailish had to get away from Henrik Vance.
Chapter Four
He’d expected her to make a break for it overnight. But as Henrik was quickly learning, Ailish had no intention of meeting his expectations.
From across the campsite, Henrik watched Ailish hang clothes to dry on the provided line, the secret smile on her face indicating she enjoyed the task. He’d wager she was humming. God, he wished he were close enough to hear which song. His mind started to conjure guesses, even though it would likely be a song he didn’t expect, knowing her.
Knowing her? Easy, man. He’d only been acquainted with the stats from her file until last night, and those surveillance notes had done nothing to give him accurate insight.
Caine O’Kelly was known for having an irrational, hair-trigger temper that usually led to people dying—often members of his own crew. Ailish’s decision to leave Chicago might have been impulsive, but she clearly knew how to play the long game. Was hanging laundry her way of sending a signal that she wouldn’t bolt?
Clever girl. Too bad he wasn’t buying it.
Henrik needed to be on his toes. In more ways than one.
So, t
he girl was a tease, huh? He’d never been teased. Not without immediate follow-through. If there was mutual interest in sex between him and a woman, they typically ended up sleeping together in short order. Not that he slept with armies of women, but when Henrik got the urge, he sought women who weren’t after anything serious. For a long time, that decision revolved around his job. The demanding hours and danger he faced every day.
Then Ailish had approached him in the park, opened her pretty mouth, and every belief he’d had went from dried cement to loose sand. Since that day, there had been no other women to speak of. Now here he was. A man aching for one woman, unable to have her. But kind of hoping she’d show him a little more of that teasing nonetheless. The verdict was in—he’d lost his fucking mind.
Henrik needed to get his shit together before approaching the cabin. He’d taken his edge off last night in the backseat of his truck, winding her panties around the base of his cock and jacking off the remaining flesh. As his hand slipped up and down, he’d thought of Ailish answering the door in her underwear as she’d done, but this time she’d braced her hands on the doorframe and swayed her hips. Dipped low and eased back up, back arched to push her ass out. He hadn’t hit a peak that heavy in a long time, making him wonder if he didn’t mind a little teasing.
Even so, the day would be torture. Already the devil on his shoulder was urging him to bring her inside and see who could hold out the longest. Jesus. His job was to keep her safe, and that needed to take priority over his neglected johnson.
Get your head in the game, Vance.
Loins girded, Henrik climbed out of the vehicle and crossed the dirt courtyard to where Ailish was hanging a pair of smiley-face boxers. And humming the Addams Family theme song.
He opened his mouth to ask her where she’d managed to rustle up a Disney princess T-shirt, ugly boxers, and see-though underwear all in the same place, but she spoke first, without even looking at him. “I was wondering how long you were going to watch me.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she turned. “Did you like what you saw?”
Fuck. Two seconds and his resolve had already waned. Focus. This is about her life. Men had already come after her. Henrik was the only object standing between her and the next ones. “Talk to me about breakfast, Ailish.”
“Pancakes, sausage…”
“Good. Do you have those things in your cabin?”
She clipped a sock to the line. “I have Cup Noodles and some beef jerky.”
After fifteen hours without food, Henrik’s stomach chose that moment to growl. Which made Ailish drop the clothespin in her hand, face lighting up like he’d just announced she’d won the Miss America pageant. Until that moment, he hadn’t noticed her black eye had been covered with some type of makeup. He was grateful, since looking at the injury made him ill. Had she done it more for his benefit? Or her own?
“Was that your tummy?” She leveled her disbelief at the body part in question. “I didn’t know they could be so loud.”
“I have a stomach,” he corrected. “Not a tummy.”
Ailish gave a low whistle. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of a grump in the morning.” She went up on her toes, then back down. “I just thought of your pet name.”
“I told you I didn’t want one.” His stomach growled again, and she stifled a laugh with her hand. “All right. What’s the nickname?”
She stooped down to retrieve her box of clothespins and skirted him with a smug expression. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” Halfway up the cabin steps, she stopped and turned. “There is a diner about a mile from here, if you need to take care of the lion living in your stomach.”
“Only if you come with me.”
“Was there a please in there somewhere?” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I need you to say please, Henrik. I’ve been shuffled around and crammed into quiet rooms my whole life without one person asking me where I wanted to go. I want breakfast, too, but I’ll starve right here on these steps before agreeing without a please.”
He had two reactions to her speech, both of them equally potent. Rage at the ones who’d stolen her choices. Admiration that she’d spoken her mind, even though it appeared she hadn’t had a lot of practice in that arena. “Please, Ailish. Will you come to breakfast with me?”
“I don’t have any money.”
He didn’t like the note of distress in her voice. “I’m buying.”
She stared off over the dirt courtyard for long moments, wheels whizzing in circles behind her eyes. “You can buy me breakfast, but I’m going to keep a running tally of our financial relationship so we stay on even footing.”
It sounded like something she’d learned from her father, but no way in hell would he say that out loud. Instead, he wondered at her particular reasons. Did she dislike being in someone’s debt, even for the price of eggs? Or was she afraid of feeling guilty when she attempted to cut and run? Didn’t matter. She needed to eat more than instant soup. In fact, now that he knew what she’d been subsisting on before his arrival, anxiousness ate at his gut. “Fine. Keep your tally.”
Her shoulders lifted and fell on a satisfied sound. “That negotiation went well, didn’t it?”
“I went just fine, Lish.”
She finished climbing the stairs. “I wonder if you’ll still call me that when you realize I’ve decided to call you Growler.”
Henrik only smiled after the door had clicked shut behind her. No sense in two of them being aware she’d already gotten to him. “My truck is this way,” he called through the closed door.
“I have to change into something better,” Ailish singsonged back.
Oh, he didn’t like the sound of that. When she stepped out onto the porch in a short, loose skirt and a skintight T-shirt a few minutes later, his foreboding proved accurate. Jesus, those thighs. There was so goddamn much of them showing. Enough that if she bent over, they would have a situation on their hands.
On her way to the truck, she winked at him, and he groaned.
Apparently the teasing had begun.
...
Ailish hadn’t allowed herself to wish for decent food over the last couple weeks, because eating noodles would have been an even bigger letdown. But now that so many yummy items were listed on the menu in front of her, she wanted all of them. Good thing the diner was packed full of people or Henrik would hear her stomach growling loud enough to match his. That would never do.
She’d woken up before dawn this morning and started to pack her things, but decided one day to hear Henrik out wouldn’t hurt. After all, they’d barely scratched the surface of why he’d sought her out. Or what exactly this honorary undercover squad expected her to do. She hadn’t stayed because she found him interesting and wanted to know more. That hadn’t even factored into the equation.
Ailish took a sip of orange juice to get the lie’s taste out of her mouth. “What are you going to have?”
“All of it,” he answered, without missing a beat.
She fell back in her chair. “Oh, thank God. Me, too.” Right on cue, the waitress showed up and took their order. It quickly became apparent Henrik had a different definition of everything, in the sense that he actually meant it. He ordered darn near every item on the breakfast menu, while Ailish got French toast, bacon, and eggs. “There really is a lion living in your stomach, isn’t there?”
“Tell me what happened in Wisconsin.”
“Lord, you are such a cop.”
His coffee mug paused halfway to his mouth. “How’s that?”
She gave an exaggerated sigh. “You do that thing. Where you ask abrupt questions to throw off the person being interrogated. It’s not very polite when we’re having a breakfast date.”
He shook his head slowly. As though he were issuing a warning. “It’s not a date, Ailish.”
Trying to hide her embarrassment, Ailish reached for the sugar container and picked through the offerings. “That wasn’t polite, either. Two friends c
an have a date, can’t they?”
His voice was gruff. “Do you usually wear skirts like that for your friends?”
Even as a butterfly flapped its wings in her middle, Ailish let the truth tumble out. “I don’t have any friends.”
For what seemed like an hour, Henrik stared at her, leaving her words hanging in air, before snatching up his coffee and draining it. “Wisconsin. Please.”
“That’s better.” Ailish prayed her cheeks hadn’t fallen victim to the Redhead’s Curse, when they lit up like two blazing bonfires. What on earth had possessed her to tell Henrik that hideously sad detail of her life? “Two men entered through the back door of the guest house. I threw a knife and hit the tall one. They chased me out the front door and—” The waitress showed up with their breakfast. It was a good thing, too, since she hadn’t thought through her recitation of events very well. When the waitress left again, Henrik made no move to touch his food, so she continued. “The man who I hit with the knife gave me the black eye. His partner in the Cubs cap was upset, since they couldn’t take me back to my father injured. So he shot the tall man.”
Henrik narrowed his eyes. “And then Cubs Cap—the shooter—let you go?”
“Yes,” she answered, a little too brightly. “Better to come back empty-handed than with damaged goods, I guess.”
He winced in the process of picking up his fork. “Don’t call yourself that.”
“Lighten up, Growler.”
“Jesus, here we go.” Henrik took a bite of pancakes and Ailish became a little mesmerized by the chewing movements of his mouth. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “Ailish. Tell me the truth now.”