Yours in Black Lace

by Mia Zachary

  “He started hitting me. He was careful to hit me where no one could see, where the bruises wouldn’t show in public. Then I ‘fell’ and ended up in the hospital.” Stevie dropped her gaze with a bitter twist of her mouth.

  “I was lucky that Dr. Weitzman had some experience dealing with what she called Painful Privilege. Apparently there are a lot of successful, well-educated women who are battered by their powerful, high-profile husbands. With Dr. Weitzman’s help and some therapy, I filed for divorce.”

  “I can’t imagine how…difficult…that must have been for you.” Again, Emelio seemed to look beneath the surface and understand what she didn’t say.

  Difficult didn’t begin to describe the final months of her marriage. She touched a finger to the bridge of her nose, a permanent reminder of Tom’s reaction to the divorce papers.

  With therapy, she’d learned to look to the future instead of dwelling on the past. She’d gotten a onetime settlement instead of alimony just to make sure all ties to New Orleans were broken. Thinking about better times, she did her best to lighten the mood. Frankly, she’d had enough of memory lane for one day.

  “It was worth it. I got my life back. And, believe me, I really lived it up for a while. Kind of acted like a kid who’s been grounded for a couple months.”

  “Oh, yeah. How?” Reading her mood, Emelio picked up his fork and speared a mouthful of his salad.

  Stevie laughed and shook her head. “The story of my wild and rebellious postmarital days is staying a secret.”

  “I’ll tell you about my wild days if you tell about yours.”

  “Please. A little earring isn’t what I would consider outrageous.” With renewed appetite, she plowed into the fish and rice on her plate.

  He touched a finger to the sapphire stud in his left ear. “I’d just been assigned to the Special Operations Division. Alex had worked undercover before and he figured I needed something to make me look streetwise. It was either this or get a tattoo.”

  “I have a tattoo.”

  His dark eyebrows lifted and his expression was one of fascinated disbelief. “What is it? Where is it?”

  “I’ve got a purple-and-black butterfly.” A spark of mischief ignited inside her and she let a slow, inviting smile spread across her face. “But you’ll have to find it yourself.”

  “It might require a very thorough search.”

  The melodic timbre of his voice turned his statement into a promise and sent her pulse into overdrive. Sensual awareness leaped between them as Emelio let his eyes travel slowly over her body, as if the intense heat of his gaze would burn away her clothing and reveal the tattoo.

  “Now are you flirting with me, Emelio?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  Stevie’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Well, hot damn. Or maybe it was that hot shower. “What made you change your mind?”

  He shrugged one broad shoulder, as if making light of the situation, but the intensity of his expression gave him away. “Your black-lace letters. A man can only take so much teasing, and, lady, you’ve been tempting me for too long.”

  “But?”

  One corner of his mouth curved slightly, as if he was amused by how easily she’d read him. Then the teasing light faded from his eyes. “But first we need to talk.”

  Stevie groaned and dropped her chin. “Don’t get all serious on me. We’ve had enough depressing discussions for one day.”

  Emelio reached over to take her hand. “I have to consider what happens when we get back to Miami, how our employment relationship is going to be affected.”

  She leaned forward, pleased when his eyes glanced down at her cleavage. “I thought we settled the issue when I fired you.”

  “This is important, Stevie. You work for me and, at the moment, I’m protecting you. We don’t know what Braga wants from you or how long we’re going to be here.”

  He hesitated, as though weighing his next words. “Typically, in circumstances like this, undercover assignments or witness protection or whatever, time seems compressed, emotions run high. When you’re on a case, you’ve got to constantly remember it’s not real life.”

  “How romantic.” Stevie pulled her hand away and sat back in her chair. It seemed he was ending things before they’d even started, and she didn’t like feeling the tiny stab of rejection.

  Emelio kept his tone professionally remote, but blatant desire lit his hazel eyes. “Romance has nothing to do with it—it’s about two people giving in to irresistible possibility.”

  “Gee, Emelio, try not to be so excited.”

  He reached for her again, his expression earnest, and the heat of his skin penetrated her hand. “Believe me, I am turned on. I want to fulfill your fantasies, and maybe create some new ones with you.”

  Wisps of heat raced along her nerves and desire tickled its way down her body. He was saying the words she’d longed to hear, but she saw the residual uncertainty all too clearly on his face. Something twisted inside her at the thought of their relationship going no further than the physical.

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “All I’m saying is, with forced proximity, relationships that normally take months to develop can happen in a matter of hours. I don’t want to make the mistake— Neither of us should be rushing into anything beyond an exploration of desire.”

  She’d had the hots for him practically from the moment they’d met, so she didn’t exactly think of it as rushing. But obviously, for a guy who was juggling three other women, getting romantically involved with her was a real dilemma.

  Even knowing she shouldn’t fall for another charismatic, take-charge male, Stevie was more than willing to explore this powerful attraction then take it to the next level. But it would scare him off if she voiced her feelings now. So outwardly she gave a little shrug and smiled, falling back on the nonchalant cadence of her native Louisiana.

  “Sure thing, chér. We’ll pass a good time then see what happens.”

  “I knew you’d understand.”

  He relaxed visibly and gently tugged her hand until she came over to sit on his lap. The proof of his desire was hard beneath her thigh. There was no doubt that he wanted her, but for how long? Stevie slid one arm behind his neck and smiled.

  “Did you enjoy the latest note I sent you?”

  “I haven’t opened it yet.”

  She arched one eyebrow in surprise. “Really? Why not?”

  His gaze was magnetic, drawing her in with its seductive promise. “Anticipation is the second-best part of seduction.”

  “Yeah, but why settle for second best?” She tilted her head to one side, flirting with him from beneath her lashes. “Don’t you even want a hint about the letter?”

  “Nope. When the time comes, I want you to read it to me. Naked.”

  Stevie felt heat rushing under her skin. The great thing about the notes had been the anonymity, the freedom to say whatever she wanted without having to gauge his reaction. She wasn’t sure she could read the highly personal words aloud.

  His left hand cupped the side of her face, drawing her closer. Stevie’s eyes drifted shut when their breath mingled the second before he claimed her. His parted lips were moist and firm as his mouth slanted over hers in a kiss that was both a slow exploration and a tantalizing challenge.

  She followed the pace he set as she traced the contours of his mouth with her tongue. Then she sensed the hunger building inside him and released the reins on her own passion, eagerly ravishing his mouth as desire sang through her veins. Her heart raced and her body fairly vibrated with pent-up desire.

  He gently stroked her cheeks with smooth, circular motions as he pulled back to look into her eyes. The invitation in his heated gaze was obvious, the silence ripe with expectancy. Then the musical notes of his cell phone broke the spell. His eyes darkened in annoyance but he kept his tone light.

  “I’m sorry. That might be Alex.”

  She suppressed a sigh and tried to ignore the damp heat between h
er thighs as she hopped off of his lap. It had better be Alex, and not one of those cariñas. Whoever it was, they had lousy timing.

  “As soon as I’m done, we can go into the other room and watch a movie…or something.”

  “I’ll take the ‘or something.’”

  Emelio bent down to steal another quick kiss before retrieving his phone from the kitchen counter. “Sanchez.”

  “Hey, buddy. It’s Jack Weston.”

  The hearty voice booming through the receiver made him wince. Maybe if he cut to the chase, the Assistant State’s Attorney wouldn’t talk his ear off for a change. “Jack. How’s the Ramos trial going?”

  No such luck. Weston began to relay the minute details of the court proceedings. The guy had goddamn lousy timing. Emelio stalked across the hallway to the office. He rocked back in his chair and stared out the window until he finally just interrupted.

  “What can I do for you, Jack?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We might have to recall you to the stand.”

  Emelio set the front legs of the black-leather desk chair back on the floor. “What for? Alex and I already gave a week’s worth of testimony.”

  Weston replied with a phony apologetic chuckle. “Hey, don’t blame me. I’m just warning you about the possibility of bringing you back as a rebuttal witness.”

  Mierda. Emelio scrubbed one hand over his face. Since the judge hadn’t excused him, he was technically still under oath and therefore obligated to appear before the court. That would leave Stevie in the hands of one of the agency’s less experienced investigators if Alex was recalled as well.

  Jack’s too friendly voice broke into his thoughts. “Look, it may not even happen, but I’ve got to prep just in case. Why don’t you swing by my office?”

  “No can do. I’m out of town on an assignment.” The cell phone trilled, signaling that the battery was dying. Emelio reached over to plug the charger into the wall.

  “Well then, the next day. You’ll be back from…?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be in Miami by then. This case could take a while.”

  Weston sighed in exasperation. “Where the hell are you?”

  Emelio started to lose patience. If he were recalled to the stand, he’d deal with it. But right now Stevie was across the hall waiting for “something.”

  “Come on, Sanchez. Cut me some slack. We can’t wait until the last minute to go over the court transcripts.”

  “I know, I know. But I can’t reassign this one. How soon will you know for sure if you need me?”

  “Soon.” When he spoke, Weston’s tone was several degrees cooler. “Depending on where you are, you can be here in a matter of hours, right? I guess I can give you about a day’s notice.”

  “Great, Jack. Keep me posted.”

  Damn it. Emelio hoped his partner had caught that flight from Baltimore. Cursing under his breath, he put the cell phone on the charger and dialed Alex’s number on the landline.

  “Hey, partner. Are you back yet?”

  “Almost. I’m just getting into a cab for home.” He heard the sound of a door slamming, then Alex’s voice giving directions to the driver. “Don’t tell Meghan, but I’m really looking forward to an uninterrupted night. Whoever coined the phrase ‘sleep like a baby’ never lived with a newborn.”

  The quiet ache of jealousy surprised him. Alex had been lucky enough to find a terrific wife, and together they’d made an incredible little boy. While his best friend deserved every happiness, their friendship had naturally been altered and Emelio found himself longing for a family of his own.

  He scraped the hair off his forehead. “Listen, Alex. I don’t know how much time we have to figure out why Braga sent those photos, but it just got a lot shorter.”

  “Yeah? What’s happened?”

  “Weston called me tonight. Said they might have to recall us on rebuttal.”

  Alex’s reaction was an immediate and ugly expletive. “You’d think two years on a case would be enough without having to deal with a monthlong trial, too.”

  They rehashed the investigation and arrests, as well as speculating about Stevie’s connection to Braga, until Emelio huffed out a breath and got to his feet. “Okay. We can talk about the rest tomorrow. Right now I’ve got somebody waiting.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone, and then Alex growled in his ear. “That had better not mean what I think, Em. Not after the hell you gave me for getting involved with Meghan when she was still a suspect.”

  When they’d first arrived at the Cayo Sueño Resort hunting for Ramos and Braga, he’d had every reason to think that Meghan was working for the cartel, despite Alex’s gut-level belief in her innocence. He knew Stevie couldn’t be involved with Braga directly, but somehow she’d attracted his menacing attention. As for her innocence… The letters were proof against that.

  “It doesn’t mean anything, not yet.”

  Alex scoffed. “Bullshit.”

  “What are you talking about?” Emelio returned to the dining room, only to find it empty. The table had been cleared, the dishes removed and the candles blown out.

  “Actually Meghan noticed before I caught on. Stevie’s had her eyes on you for a while now, hombre. And you’ve done some looking of your own.”

  No point in denying it—his best friend knew better. “If I could ever get off the phone, I’d do more than just look.”

  “Make sure you know what you’re getting into this time.”

  Emelio dismissed his warning with a rude suggestion, appreciating Alex’s concern but not the reference to what happened with his last relationship.

  “See you, Em.”

  “Yeah, man. Later.”

  A fast check in the kitchen revealed clean counter-tops and a running dishwasher. But no Stevie. As he clicked off the cordless phone, he heard indistinct voices coming from the Florida room.

  The brilliant color and dark shadow of several explosions flashed across Stevie’s face. Her lithe body curled around a throw pillow on the white-leather sofa, her hands tucked under her cheek. She must have been tired to fall asleep before James Bond had escaped from the bad guys’ lair and saved the world.

  After lowering the volume on the entertainment center, Emelio covered her with the light blanket from one of the armchairs. Then he picked up the remote control and sat next to her. Impulsively, he reached down to lightly brush his fingers over the corn-silk strands of her hair. It seemed an oddly natural thing to do.

  She stirred, instinctively seeking his touch. He’d never brought a woman to this house before. Even his family was rarely invited here and Alex had only stayed once. So why the hell did Stevie look so right, cuddled on the sofa beside him? Not in the mood to examine his actions, or the feelings behind them, Emelio settled in to watch Bond kick some Soviet ass.

  5

  EMELIO HAD FINALLY taken her to bed. Too bad he hadn’t joined her for…anything.

  Stevie sighed and rolled onto her right side, watching the morning sunlight glitter on the turquoise waters of the swimming pool. The muted whoosh of incoming waves on the Gulf was barely audible through the closed French doors as she snuggled under the hunter-and-burgundy satin quilt. Even Florida got chilly on January nights.

  She wondered if she was lying on Emelio’s side of the bed, and whether he slept on his back or his stomach. She wondered why he wasn’t sleeping right beside her. Flopping over, she stared at the ceiling and worked on identifying her emotions, since she was already focused on the source.

  Lust, pure and simple. She was definitely feeling lust. Her body hummed with an intense desire that had her aching for Emelio’s touch. He was so right about the anticipation. Writing the black-lace letters had been fun, but now she wanted those erotic fantasies of making love with him to become real.

  Then again, love wouldn’t have anything to do with it.

  Disappointment. As much as she hated to admit it, she was also feeling disappointed. Funny how sh
e hadn’t wanted more until he’d set a boundary on their time together. There was no way to look at Emelio and not want sex. But after seeing his paintings and discovering the passion below the surface of his professional veneer, she found that she wanted more.

  Stevie pressed the edges of her palms against her eyes and sighed heavily. The stress of running from an unknown danger must have rendered her temporarily insane.

  After divorcing Tom, she’d avoided men who seemed too demanding or controlling. Emelio had already proven he had no qualms about making decisions that affected her life, and yet she was still crazy about him. Or it could be she was just crazed with hunger. She’d never really finished dinner last night, as her stomach crankily reminded her.

  She turned her left wrist and checked the hour. The Timex had been her father’s. He taught her to tell time on that watch, she remembered. Then he’d made himself a fortune in commercial real estate and traded his old Timex for a flashy diamond Rolex. His jewelry wasn’t the only thing that had changed….

  Kicking off the covers with a scowl, she swung her legs over the bed. She assumed the Mountain Pose and she ran through a series of Yoga stretches, emptying her mind and warming up her body. When she’d finished her morning routine, she went to see about some food.

  The cottage was quiet, only the tranquil sounds of the water and birdsong breaking the silence. Her bare feet padded across the carpeted floors onto the cool terra-cotta tiles as she wandered through the house. Eventually, she found Emelio asleep in the Florida room.

  He didn’t look too comfortable stretched out on the sofa, his long coffee hair tousled and one arm flung over his head. Judging by the rumpled blanket tangled around his legs and hanging to the floor, he’d spent a restless night. Sunshine streaming through the glass walls highlighted the uneasy lines tightening his forehead.

  It also gleamed off the stainless-steel barrel of a gun positioned within arm’s reach on the floor. She didn’t pick it up, but estimated it took a .45 caliber shell. Nine of them in fact. Emelio meant what he said about protecting her.

  But why had he chosen to subject himself to the sofa when there was plenty of room in the king-size bed? Knowing him, he probably thought he was being considerate. Emelio had been so good to her in the last twenty-four hours, allowing her into his home and letting her discover his secrets. There had to be some way to show her appreciation.