She diligently wrote the out in her scorecard. On paper, all the fuss seemed like nothing. A simple out, the end of the inning – no sign of a close call.
‘There’s always something going on over there,’ Morgan said, not letting the subject drop. ‘Why is that?’
She felt that sizzle of danger again, riding along her nerve endings.
‘I couldn’t say, but we’ve appreciated your diligence. There’s no reason you should have to visit us again.’
‘So give me one.’
Her pen stopped, frozen on the paper.
‘Go to dinner with me tomorrow,’ he said softly. ‘My treat this time.’
Her brain stalled out, too.
The invitation was unexpected. It shouldn’t have been tempting … but it was. The plan tonight was to thank him for his efforts and then walk away. He was too close already. He’d seen more than he should.
But the words just wouldn’t come.
She could feel his gaze on her like a heavy weight. She knew she couldn’t see him again, inside her office or out of it. Yet, with every inning that passed, she was dreading the end of the night more and more.
Silence loomed between them. He wasn’t letting her off the hook. She felt like everyone in the park was looking at them and began to imagine murmurs. People in the stands close to them even turned to watch.
Suddenly, Nina realised she wasn’t imagining it. Looking up, she caught their reflection on the scoreboard. She and Josh were posted in stunning clarity on the big screen.
Her stomach dropped. Oh, dear Lord, no.
The Kiss Cam.
Hoots and hollers rang up loud around them, and she did the only thing she could think of doing. She lifted her programme in front of her face and hid.
She was a self-assured, sophisticated woman who didn’t need the attention the selfies crowd seemed to crave these days. Luxxor was known for being discreet. She didn’t advertise her company. The last thing she needed was her face plastered on a fifty-foot-high LED screen.
But then the detective moved in his seat.
He caught her wrist and slowly pushed the programme down. His hand slipped into her hair, and he cupped the back of her head. Their gazes caught as he leaned in.
Nina couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. She heard the commotion around them surge as his lips covered hers.
But then all she could do was feel.
She closed her eyes as sensation bombarded her. The kiss he planted on her was slow, intimate and thorough. The heat built slowly, sexily, until her resistance melted into thin air. Her programme slipped out of her hand. She leaned into him, and a sound left the back of his throat. He sealed their mouths together as his other hand caught her waist. She reached for him and her hand settled on his jawline. The crisp feel of his five o’clock shadow couldn’t have contrasted more with the soft strands of his hair brushing against her fingertips. She wanted to touch more. She wanted to feel more.
He pulled her closer, and the armrest dug into her stomach. If not for it, he would have had her on his lap, and she wouldn’t have minded.
He felt so good.
He made her feel good. Aroused. Safe. Connected. Awakened.
Around them, the joking laughs turned to embarrassed gasps. The hoots and catcalls became wolf-whistles, but it was the collective sigh that ran throughout the whole of Nationals Park that finally got through Nina’s clouded head.
She wasn’t safe. This was foolish, risky … dangerous.
She pulled back sharply, but his hold on her tightened.
‘Don’t.’ He lifted the programme again to hide both of them.
Her breath came hard as she looked into his dark eyes. She could feel his own against her face and her lips. She licked them to stop the tingling, but his gaze dropped with the motion. He kissed her again, hard and fast.
Hoots rose in volume again, and, even with the programme hiding them, the Kiss Cam operator finally realised he’d focused on a kiss unsuitable for a family-friendly audience.
Nina pushed away and found her hand against Morgan’s chest. He was warm and hard. The strength beneath her fingertips could have scared her, but it lured her even more.
She yanked her hand away and turned her head. His lips brushed against her temple. His hand was still tangled in her hair, but she felt his hold gentle. He was slow in letting her go, and his fingertips almost seemed to caress the back of her head and then the tight muscles of her neck, but then she was free.
Nina’s heart beat in her chest so hard, she could hear it in her ears. Her breaths raked her throat, but she forced them to shorten. She sat up straighter and smoothed her rumpled jacket.
This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all.
She swept her fingers over her mouth to tidy up any smudged lipstick, but discovered she had none left. She uncrossed her legs and put both feet square on the ground.
‘Nina,’ Morgan said in warning.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said politely, ‘but it’s getting late, and I have an early morning.’
‘Come on, Nina. That’s been coming for a long time, and we both know it.’
She zipped up her purse and tucked her hair behind her ear. He was still leaning towards her, getting in her space. She could feel the people seated around them leaning in, too, trying to hear.
‘I really need to go.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘The deal was for a game.’
She glanced at the scoreboard. Her scorecard was way behind now. ‘It’s the seventh inning. The game is official.’
‘You agreed to ride with me.’
‘To the game. Mr Howard can pick me up.’ She pulled her phone from the side pocket of her purse and began to text her security night detail. Her fingers were steady as a surgeon’s, but her forearms were clenched so tight they ached. ‘Please, stay and enjoy the rest of the game. Your ticket will get you into the post-game media interviews, too.’
‘Nina.’ Morgan’s voice like a rock against slate. His hand was in her hair again as he made her look him in the eye.
He could see right to the heart of her.
‘You don’t want to run from me.’
No, one should never turn their back on a predator.
‘I appreciate what you did for Rielle.’ She stood smoothly. ‘Thank you for inviting me, Detective.’
The low sound that emerged from his chest was practically a growl.
‘Josh,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘Yes, we can.’
‘No. We can’t.’
He let her past him, and disappointed sounds emerged from the crowd who’d witnessed it all.
Nina felt the weight of their stares as she walked confidently but quickly to the exit. She could feel the disappointment of all the strangers around her, but it didn’t come close to the regret she felt deep inside her chest.
Her body ached with arousal. Her lips felt puffy, and her fingers craved more than the brief touches they’d stolen. This had been it, her one little bit of self-indulgence. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin.
After tonight, she’d never see him again.
She’d been trying to push Josh Morgan off her trail for a long time now. She was pretty sure she’d finally accomplished her goal. And it was for the best. For everybody.
No matter how much it hurt.
Chapter One
Josh rode the elevator up to the seventh floor of the Emissary Hotel, glaring at the numbers as they ticked off with a merry chime. It had been one o’clock in the morning when his phone had started ringing.
One stinking o’clock.
He rarely did ‘merry’, and never at this hour.
He twisted his neck to the side and heard a satisfying crack. This is what he got for being a nice guy – although others might argue with that assessment. He hadn’t been in a good mood for a while now, with good cause. He ran a hand over his face and straightened from the railing against which he’d been lea
ning. He didn’t work the night shift, but he’d been called in. Whatever it was, it better be worth his time.
The happy elevator finally arrived at its destination, and he glowered at the uniformed officer waiting in the elevator lobby.
The cop’s spine stiffened, making him stand up at least an inch taller. ‘Room 740, Detective.’
‘What are we looking at? Assault? Theft? Murder?’
He needed to get his brain in the right place before he walked in there.
The uniform’s Adam’s apple bobbed. ‘Solicitation, sir, and breaking and entering.’
Well, that was a combination.
Josh muttered a curse and swiped a hand through his mussed hair. He hadn’t taken the time to primp before he’d driven over here. ‘Sounds like something you guys could handle. Why am I here?’
The cop swallowed hard again and shrugged.
The tired ache in Josh’s head pressed harder. He turned on his heel and strode down the hallway. The place was swanky. The carpeting was a deep emerald green. There were skinny wooden tables with spindly legs holding vases of flowers. The wall sconces looked to be brass, with frosted glass shades. The staff downstairs had all been clad in uniforms that matched the green carpeting, and just the air of the place said money.
It definitely wasn’t the kind of place that rented by the hour.
That didn’t mean that all the wealthy patrons didn’t have their eyes pressed against their doors’ peepholes right now, watching everything that was going on. They were probably just as pleased as he was at having been awakened in the wee hours, although the Emissary would no doubt be making it right with them.
He might get a handshake out of the deal.
With a grunt, he focused on the spectacle ahead of him. Police swarmed the end of the hallway, a lot for a solicitation charge. There were uniformed cops, a hotel manager, and some guy in a suit on a phone.
He frowned. What had happened? Had the john gotten rough? Was it a freaking orgy in there?
The young officer who’d called him stepped into the hallway, writing feverishly in his notebook. Simons was a good cop, and the son of the guy who’d mentored Josh. Blue ran in the family’s blood. The kid wouldn’t have called him here if he wasn’t needed.
‘Simons,’ Josh said.
The cop looked up and a relieved expression settled onto his face. ‘Detective Morgan. Thanks for coming.’
Josh crossed his arms over his chest. He felt a bit better for having been rolled out of bed. ‘You need an assist?’
‘Yeah.’ Simons blew out a breath and looked over his shoulder towards the hotel room. ‘I’m in over my head.’
So he’d called in someone he trusted enough to admit that to. Josh nodded in understanding. Usually, in cases like this, the patrol units handled the onsite arrests, and the case was handed off to the detective division for further follow-up. Something must be hinky for Simons to call in the detective unit early.
‘Solicitation, huh? You guys running a sting?’
‘No, we were called in because of the B&E.’
Josh frowned. ‘Who broke in? The pimp?’
Simons looked at his notebook. ‘TMI News. They’re one of those paparazzi news shows.’
The dull ache in Josh’s head intensified. He was starting to catch on now. It wasn’t what had happened that was causing the uproar. ‘Who is it?’
Someone he knew? Someone from one of his other cases trying to make a bad situation worse?
‘Senator Gunderson. The news guys swear he’s here with a prostitute.’
Ah, hell. That explained the extra personnel. Whenever you brought a political player into a case, things got messy. Like sewer-system messy. He knew. He was DC Metro PD. He’d had interactions with the Capitol Hill types before, but it had been a while. He didn’t want to get within a hundred feet of a stinker case like this.
But the kid was even less well equipped to deal with it.
Josh sighed. ‘You did good calling me.’
Everything needed to be handled by the book. All I’s needed to be dotted, and all T’s crossed. Not only did they have a political player, the press was already on the scene.
‘Walk me through it.’
Simons nodded feverishly. Colour was starting to come back to his cheeks. He flipped his notes through several pages. ‘The senator and his … date … rented the room around midnight. Not much later they were interrupted in the middle of … you know … doing the deed by two guys with a camera.’
Josh glanced at the door and doorframe for Room 740. They didn’t seem to be damaged. ‘How did they get in?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet.’
‘Who called it in?’
‘A few of the other guests on the floor. Apparently the news guys weren’t quiet.’ Simons jerked his thumb at the man in the hotel uniform. ‘Hotel management then called us.’
‘Did they tell you the guy was a senator?’
The cop confirmed with a nod. ‘Gunderson checked in under his own name. I don’t know much more than that. We just got the groups separated.’
‘All right.’ Josh rubbed the back of his neck. It was awfully strange for a politician to check in under his own name if he was with a prostitute – unless he was well known and knew people could identify him anyway.
Personally, he’d never heard of the guy. He must be doing a bang-up job on Capitol Hill.
Weren’t they all?
‘Oh, and one more thing,’ Simons said. ‘The senator is running for re-election.’
Shit. There went Josh’s hope of getting back to bed any time tonight.
‘Let’s see what everyone has to say.’ Political prima donna or not, the crime scene process was the same. Josh shook off his tiredness as he started to look over everything. Simons was on his heels, but they both stopped to take a better gander at the door. There weren’t any signs of impact or tampering, just normal wear and tear.
‘Hey, you,’ somebody inside the room called. ‘You in charge here?’
Josh’s eyes narrowed on the scruffy-looking duo. They had to be the so-called reporters. One was wearing a ragged old George Washington University hoodie, ripped jeans and rundown tennis shoes. The other had floppy hair and a bad neck twitch. He kept jerking it around to get his hair out of his eyes. Hoodie carried a GoPro camera in his hand. It didn’t give the duo the appearance of ‘real’ reporters, but the camera was cheaper and probably more portable than the larger units professional news crews carried.
‘I’m Detective Morgan. I’ll be handling the investigation.’
‘Finally! Lance Durquist from TMI News. We caught them on film – dead to rights – the senator and his lady of the night.’ The reporter lifted his camera and started shooting again. ‘What can you tell us, Detective? When will the senator be hauled in front of a judge to pay for his crime?’
‘Turn that thing off,’ Josh growled.
He didn’t have to ask twice.
Hoodie looked nervous. ‘Arrest them, and we’ll get it on the morning web news.’
Like that was an incentive.
The reporter thrust out the camera. ‘Just watch it. It explains everything.’
Josh accepted the camera that was being offered to him, handling it carefully. He looked over the buttons and dials and hit rewind. The video came with audio, and more than one head turned when it started playing again. Grunts and sexy little feminine cries fill the airspace. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.
Damn technology.
He hit rewind again to take the video all the way back to the beginning.
‘I want that video burned.’ A deep baritone voice rang out from the next room. ‘They broke in here. That’s private.’
Josh wasn’t interested in the porn show. He’d get to that in a minute. For the time being, he wanted to see how Hoodie and Bieber had gotten access to the room. It didn’t take long to find out. They’d begun recording out in the hallway. He passed the camera to Simons when he got
the information he needed. ‘Bag that.’
‘Yeah.’ The guy in the hoodie nodded and high-fived his floppy-haired friend. ‘All right.’
The two were grinning as if they’d just caught the next Watergate scandal on tape.
The guy who’d been on the phone in the hallway didn’t find it as funny. He was now inside the room. ‘You can’t use that. It was obtained illegally. My client will fight it.’
The lawyers were already on the scene, too. Fantastic.
‘And – as I was about to say,’ Josh said pointedly, ‘arrest them.’
‘What?’ Hoodie squeaked.
‘Ah, man.’ Bieber jerked his head to try to see as the cuffs were put on. When that didn’t work, he had to reach up with both hands to get his hair out of his eyes.
Simons read the duo their rights. ‘You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney …’
Hoodie’s face turned red with outrage, and he talked right over the cop. ‘You can’t stop the flow of information, man. This guy is running to represent the American people. They have a right to know that he’s not only screwing the system, but whores, too.’
Josh heard the gasp from the next room.
‘Watch it.’ The guy in the suit stepped forward menacingly.
Josh stopped him with a bar arm and eyed him more closely. The guy was pretty in that Sunday sales ads sort of way, but underneath the polish there was a street kind of toughness. The flintiness in his eyes betrayed it.
‘Were you involved here?’ he asked. ‘Why are you in my crime scene?’
The man smoothed his suit and backed off, but the cold fire was still in his eyes. ‘I was called here by my client in the next room.’
Josh couldn’t fight that. The senator had a right to legal representation. ‘Then let me do my work and don’t interfere with police actions.’
‘What? You’re taking their side?’ Bieber finally caught on to what was happening, and his eyes filled with fear.
At least Josh assumed there were tears in both his eyes. One of them was covered by that raggedy hair again.
And … head flip.
There it was again. Yup, the intrepid reporter was crying.
Courting Suspicion Page 2