by Jill Shalvis
Ten minutes until two.
She wanted to cry. Wanted to howl, and by the looks of him as he shoved his fingers through his hair, he felt the same way.
“We could go lock the glass doors,” she said quickly. “And pretend you’re not here—”
“Tess. I can’t take you here, not like this. We need privacy.” He slid her bra straps back up. The backs of his fingers brushed her pebbled nipples, ripping a shiver from her.
He groaned. “And hours,” he said roughly. “We need lots of hours.”
“I think I only need a minute.”
He closed his eyes and murmured, “Don’t make this harder.” He slid his fingers into her hair and tilted her head up to his. Eyes still closed, he kissed her, one long, clinging kiss that made a soft, clingy noise that tugged between her thighs.
“Tess,” he whispered, just that, just her name.
Her heart stumbled and she hugged him hard.
They heard the doors opening, signaling the arrival of his client and they stared at each other.
“I’ll bring the files you need,” she said, but didn’t let go of him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For showing me how you feel. I know it must have been hard.”
He smiled ruefully and said, “Hard? You don’t know the half of it.” He shifted his hips against her, showing her what exactly was “hard,” making her laugh softly as she pulled away.
MUCH LATER, long after he’d seen his client, Reilly surfaced from his computer and stretched, glancing at his clock.
Six-thirty.
He pushed away from his desk and went down the hall, wondering if—
No, Tess hadn’t left without saying goodbye. She sat at the front desk, bent over a stack of papers, her hair falling into her eyes as she chewed on the eraser on her pencil and muttered to herself.
Just seeing her there made something within him soften and relax. “Hey,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her.
For the first time since he’d met her, she didn’t jump. Instead, she craned her neck to give him a smile that was at once both sweet and unbearably sexy.
His gaze dropped to her mouth.
So did hers and she let out a little laugh that sounded just a tad unsure. That made two of them. “It’s past quitting time,” he said.
“I know.”
“I appreciate all the extra work you’ve put in since Cheri’s gone Benedict Arnold on me.”
“You’re going home, right?”
Ah. Now he got it. He’d babysat Eddie and now she was babysitting him. He moved around, turning off the stereo, pulling the shades, turning off most of the lights before moving toward the front desk to shut down the computer for the night.
One thing his life experiences had given him were heightened senses, whether he liked it or not. Even from across the room he could smell her, some complicated mix of soap and shampoo and lotion that probably hadn’t been designed to drive him insane.
“Reilly?”
There was only the one light left, by the elevator doors, and the glow of it fell over her face as she moved to stand in front of him and put her hand on his arm. Her eyes were so incredibly green and so incredibly focused on him, he felt as if she could see all the way through him.
He liked to keep himself distant, he prided himself on it, and yet with her it was damned difficult. Even when he shut her out, which he’d done on purpose rather than cave in to what she made him feel, she didn’t give up on him. He should probably tell her to, because he could tell she had hopes for him. He should just say right here, right now, for her not to bother.
Pinning hopes on him was just a waste of time.
“Are you going home?” she asked again.
He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He did it as an excuse to touch her, which was startling. “That’s generally the idea behind leaving work.”
She cocked her head and gave him a long look. “You’re being evasive on purpose.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. You’re going to Eddie’s. He said I needed to keep you from doing that. He said you needed to go home to bed, Reilly.”
To bed. With her?
Something within him went hot at that thought. She blushed, letting him know that he was slipping, that he’d let that thought show. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you out.”
She grabbed her purse and they got on the elevator. She stared at the closed doors as they began to descend, then looked at him. “I’m sorry about earlier, when I said you didn’t have any feelings. That was wrong of me.”
The elevator doors opened into the lobby. There were only a few people milling around and no one close. He stopped her when she would have walked away. “I don’t want you to be sorry.”
“What do you want?” she asked.
He stared at her. Hell if he knew.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. She started walking away, counting change out of her purse.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting my bus fare ready.”
His stomach did that slow somersault that only she could cause. “I thought your car was fixed.”
“Was being the operative word, apparently.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
She looked up, then laughed softly. “Thanks, but don’t worry. I’m off duty. I’m no longer your responsibility.”
“I’m giving you a ride.” And he took her hand to prove it, leading the way out of the building and toward his car.
“I know you’d rather be alone,” Tessa said when they stopped by his car.
He unlocked his passenger-side door for her, waiting until she slid in before he leaned down and spoke, his mouth only an inch from hers. “Yeah, I want to be alone. Alone with you.” It wasn’t often he came right out and admitted such a thing to a woman and it had been a hell of a long time in any case. He expected a coy smile in return.
Or maybe mock shyness.
He didn’t expect her to lift up enough to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss the very corner of his mouth before murmuring, “That makes two of us.” Then her busy, hot little mouth worked its way to the other side of his for another nibble, keeping her eyes open on his the entire time. Slowly, purposely, she glided the tip of her tongue across the crease of his lips.
Hands shaking a little, he pulled back and put her seat belt on.
“Not here either, I suppose,” she said with a little sigh, leaning back as she echoed his earlier words in his office.
“Tess—”
“I know. Probably not anywhere, right?” She sat back and slipped out of her sweater. When she leaned forward to tuck the sweater down by her purse, her sleeveless, scooped-neck blouse gaped open enough to reveal the very top curve of her breasts, and her purple silky bra.
“We work together,” he said a little desperately. Did her panties match?
“Yep, we work together. We work and we obviously, as evident in your office earlier and also in the elevator a few days before that, do more.”
He shut her door and came around the car, sliding in behind the wheel. “It’s that ‘more’ that’s holding me up.”
“You don’t like making love?”
He jerked his gaze to her, then concentrated on merging into traffic because looking at her, seeing her need and hunger reflected in her eyes, a need and hunger that matched his own, killed him. “I like…making love.”
“Are you sure?”
Was he sure? The woman couldn’t see he had an erection threatening the very zipper on his pants? “Very,” he said tightly.
“Then what’s the problem? I mean, we’re attracted to each other, Reilly. Are you going to deny that?”
“No.”
“We’re also adults. So I don’t see why—”
“Because you deserve more than what I can give you.” He glanced over at her again. “Way more.”
“I don’t mean to sound contrary, but that’s my deci
sion.”
His jaw started to twitch, a muscle reaction he hadn’t had since leaving the CIA. He put his fingers to the spot and said, “I’m an in-the-present type of guy.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I can give you work. I can give you conversation. I can even give you great sex, but—”
“Great sex?”
She looked extremely intrigued. Damn it.
“How do you know for sure?” she asked. “Unless we try it…”
Oh man.
“Ah,” she said, nodding. “I get it now. It was the L-word. I specifically said making love, didn’t I. Well, I’ll settle for wild, hot sex then. How about that, Reilly? Are you up for that?”
15
WAS HE UP for hot sex? Was she kidding? He was “up” all right. Reilly tried concentrating on the traffic, but for once there wasn’t much. He glanced at Tessa, who was waiting for him to answer. “You realize we nearly simultaneously combust every time we touch.”
She nodded. “Yes. Which I figure will come in handy in bed.”
Restraint sorely tested, he gave up reasoning with her and just drove. They were within a few minutes of her place when his cell phone rang.
Eddie’s number showed up on the display. “You get your wish,” Reilly said into the phone in lieu of a greeting. “I’m staying away tonight.” But he got no response to that, which was strange. Eddie had a response for everything. “Eddie?”
Still nothing. Not breathing, not a sound, nothing but a wide open connection.
With cool, calm precision, Reilly did a U-turn and got on the freeway northbound, heading toward La Canada. “Eddie,” he said again.
Still nothing.
Tessa was looking at him. “What’s the matter?”
A very bad feeling, for one. “Eddie,” he said into the phone. “I’m going to call 9-1-1—”
“Reilly.”
He nearly sagged in relief at the sound of his father’s whispering voice, even though it came from far away, signaling that Eddie wasn’t speaking into the phone at all, but at it. “Eddie, are you—”
“I can’t hear you,” Eddie whispered in an odd voice. “So I hope you can hear me. I dialed with my toes. I sure as hell hope you’re there and that you haven’t let some sweet young thing answer your phone for you. Wait, what am I saying, you don’t even like sweet young things.” He let out a little laugh. “Anyway, son, I’m in a bit of a bind, as you might have guessed. Literally. Don’t call the cops,” he said quickly. “You’ll see why when you get here. You are getting here, aren’t you?”
Reilly shook his head and pressed on the gas.
“I don’t want you to get upset or anything,” Eddie whispered, “but the police were wrong about Sheila. I’d call them myself and mention it, but…well, you’ll see.”
Reilly got off the freeway in La Canada and raced up Foothill Boulevard, going far above the speed limit.
Tessa’s fingers gripped the console, but she said nothing about his driving. “Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure.”
They turned onto Eddie’s street, but instead of pulling into the driveway, Reilly turned off the engine and kept his cell phone to his ear. Most of the La Canada Foothills were covered with growth indigenous to the mountains of Southern California. Eddie’s lot was no exception and the view of the house was blocked by tall, staggered oaks and pines. He turned to Tess. “Wait here.”
She already had her hand on the handle of the door. “What’s the matter?”
“I haven’t a clue.” Eddie had stopped talking, which was worrisome. “But given my father and his life, it could be anything.” He pulled a gun from the glove box and glanced at Tessa when she gasped. He tucked the gun in the waistband of his trousers. “You have your cell phone on you?”
“Yes. Reilly—”
“If I’m not back in ten minutes, call the cops.”
“Reilly.”
He looked into her shocked green eyes and saw pure stubbornness. She was going to be difficult about this. He shouldn’t have been surprised. “Look, the call was just a bit strange, even for Eddie. Given what we’ve been through in this very house, humor me.” He looked into her eyes, willing her to listen.
She nodded, then pulled out her cell phone and turned it on. “Ten minutes or call the police—” he said, breaking off when he leaned in for a quick, hard kiss he hadn’t known he needed.
He pulled back and started to get out of the car.
“It’s getting dark,” she whispered, her hand grabbing the front of his shirt. “I know how you feel about the dark. Let me come with you.”
She was going to kill him, this woman of the soft eyes and soft heart and the body that could bring him to his knees. “Wait here,” he repeated, then got out of the car. He stepped off the sidewalk and into the thick grouping of trees as he made his way toward the house under the security of the growth, wondering what the hell he was walking into this time.
Darkness hadn’t fallen yet, but it was close and no lights had been put on upstairs. In comparison, the downstairs blazed with lights, as well as the sounds of glass shattering and other assorted thumps and bumps that signified either a temper tantrum or that someone had decided to help his father redecorate in a very expensive manner.
Reilly skimmed around the back, keeping hidden by all the bush, which was easy enough to do. Damn, his father was extremely lax in the security department. In fact, this whole place, with the myriad of windows and doors—everything—it was all a virtual security nightmare.
The back door was unlocked. Naturally. Eddie might as well put out a sign that said come screw me over, please. Since no more commentary had come from his cell, he stuck it in his pocket. Then he pulled out his gun and entered. At the sound of more glass raining down, he flattened himself against the wall and looked around. He stood in a lanai that led to a large den, which opened into the great room. From there he’d be able to see the kitchen.
That’s where the glass-crashing sounds were coming from. He entered the den and saw no one.
From the kitchen came a screech that sounded furious and frustrated. “Take that!” a woman screamed.
He took the safety off the gun and headed into the great room. He could see a woman in the kitchen systematically tossing every piece of china and glass from the cabinets with glee. Reilly didn’t recognize the fortyish, tall, leggy blonde, though she had the usual look of one of Eddie’s preferred women—blond, stacked and…hard.
“And take that!” she cried and dropped a vase that looked quite expensive. She stomped on it. “Take that, you son of a bitch! Everything in this place should have been mine, would have been mine, if you’d just fallen in love with me.” Another vase hit the floor. She stomped on that, too. “Like I did with you!”
“Well,” Reilly said. “That was your first mistake, falling in love with the bastard.”
Her head came up and she stared at Reilly, at the gun pointed at her, and blinked. “How did you—” she said, blinking again. “You’re not Eddie.”
“Nope.”
“You look just like the no-good, son of a bitch.”
“I had some bad luck with the genes,” he agreed.
She tossed back her blond hair. Slowly licked her lips. “Are you as good in bed as he is?”
“Step away from the counter and the island,” he said. “Out into the open.”
Her full red lips affected a pout, but she did as he said. “I knew I was going to get caught this time,” she said.
“So, you’re the one. You’re the ex-girlfriend…Sheila, right?”
“Ex,” she said, nearly spitting it out. “I hate that word. Look, you can put away the gun. I’m not dangerous or anything.”
“I don’t think so.” With his free hand, he pulled out his cell again and called the police, even though Eddie had asked him not to. He no longer cared. While he punched in the numbers, he kept an eye on the woman he assumed was as crazy as she seemed.
&nb
sp; His father sure could pick them.
When he hung up, she tried a sweet smile. “I just wanted to hurt the schmuck like he hurt me,” she said. “He discarded me like…like week-old trash.”
“Not to be contrary or anything,” he said, “but Eddie discards all women like week-old trash.”
A sound behind him had him taking a quick peek, because he didn’t intend to be taken down by this crazy lady’s thugs again. But instead of thugs, he saw Tessa.
And his mother.
Cheri smiled weakly and waggled her fingers at him. “Um, I need to break in here.” She eyed the hard-looking blonde with interest, then the mess at their feet, and finally Reilly, still holding his gun on the woman. “Honey, is that really necessary?”
Reilly laughed in disbelief. “Yes, very necessary. Mom—”
“Eddie doesn’t discard all women,” Cheri said softly.
“He discarded you—”
She shook her head and made her way closer. “It’s time I told you the truth, baby. Eddie never wanted me to tell you and I’m not sure if that was stubborn pride or misguided loyalty to me,” she said, sighing, “but I discarded him. I was young and stupid and didn’t want to be tied down.” She shook her head and said, “And you want to hear the crazy truth? I’ve been regretting that decision ever since.”
He stared at her. “And you’re telling me this now because…?”
“I don’t know,” Cheri said, lifting a shoulder. “Because you’re acting as if all your troubles are his fault.”
Sheila laughed. “Listen, Mommy Dearest, why don’t you take your boy’s gun away and then turn your head, huh? And I’ll just get the hell out of your hair.”
Cheri lifted a brow. Checked out the mess once more. And slowly smiled.
Sheila did, too, in relief.
“Sorry,” Cheri said, shaking her head. “You’re going to jail, and you’re never going to bother Eddie again.”
Sheila’s smile faded. She muttered, “Hell.”
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Reilly looked at Tessa, who was standing there quietly. “What happened to waiting in the car?”