TALL, DARK AND TEXAN

by Jane Sullivan

  Slade sauntered over, sat down in the chair in front of her desk and put one booted foot against the edge of it. She was surprised to see a large bruise on his forehead in several shades of black-and-blue. She thought about asking him which woman had finally gotten fed up with him and smacked him one, then decided she really didn't give a damn.

  "Hey, baby," he said.

  "Foot off the desk."

  Slade slowly withdrew his foot and sat up. "You're looking good today." He sniffed the air. "What's that perfume you're wearing?"

  "Extra-strength deodorant."

  Wendy pulled a pair of files out of her desk drawer and laid one open on her desk. Slade slumped back in the chair again, folding his arms across his chest.

  "You sure do play hard to get."

  "Try impossible to get."

  "Wrong. I never say never."

  "Do you have a purpose for being here other than to harass me?"

  "Yeah. Actually, I do." He tossed a bail ticket down on her desk. "I got Rico."

  Wendy picked it up, staring at it with surprise. Now she knew why his face looked like a human punching bag.

  "You're kidding," Wendy said.

  "Nope. There it is in black-and-white."

  "Actually, it's on your face in black-and-blue. Did the going get a little tough?"

  "I told you already. It's a dangerous business. Sometimes I have to take a few hits."

  "One of these days you're going to take a few bullets."

  "No way, baby. Not me. I'm always on top of things." He casually pushed his jacket aside, revealing a shoulder holster containing a very large weapon, clearly a piece of above-the-waist equipment to compensate for his lack of below-the-waist equipment.

  "You'll have to wait to get your money until Ramona gets back," she told him.

  "Whatever." He leaned forward again and rested his arms on her desk. "So how about it? You and me. Tonight. A bottle of champagne and a nice, soft mattress. What do you say?"

  "No, thank you."

  "But I'm hurting here, baby. I had to take a few punches just to get that guy off the street." He leaned in and spoke seductively. "I could use a little TLC right now."

  "Sorry, Slade. I have plans."

  He sat back with a look of disgust. "Oh, come on, Wendy. Don't tell me that you and Godzilla are still an item."

  A slow burn of anger flared inside her, nearly driving her to blacken the other side of Slade's face.

  No. Don't waste the effort. He's not worth it.

  "I just don't get it," Slade said. "What in the hell do you see in him?"

  "Sorry. I don't have the time to read that list to you. But the next time I have a free hour, I'll give you a call."

  "Next time you have a free hour, I'll take you to heaven."

  "In that case, I'd prefer hell."

  Lonnie and Ralph snickered. Slade gave her a face-saving I-don't-give-a-damn look, then stood up slowly, placing his palms against her desk.

  "The day's going to come when you want a real man. And when it does, you'd just better hope I'm still available." He stood back up. "Tell Ramona I'll be back in a few hours."

  As he turned and walked out of the office, Wendy gritted her teeth, thinking he should consider himself lucky she didn't kick his butt all the way down the block.

  Ralph turned to Lonnie. "I've got twenty bucks that says Wendy decks him before Wolfe does."

  "Ha!" Lonnie said. "I'm not touching that one. I might as well hand you twenty bucks."

  Ralph gave a low whistle. "Between the two of them, Slade's days are numbered." He sat back in his chair with a wistful expression. "Whenever it happens, I just hope I'm around to see it."

  * * *

  As the days passed, Wolfe found it hard to remember what life without Wendy had been like. She was there most evenings when he came home, greeting him with something marginally edible she'd cooked for dinner, and then they'd spend the evening relaxing in front of the television or reading or just talking.

  And then they'd go to bed together.

  She'd insinuated herself into every facet of his life, filling in blanks he never knew he had, making him feel alive in a way he never had been before and pushing the memory of his once solitary existence far to the back of his mind.

  As the days turned into weeks, she even began helping him with his work. In her spare time, she began cruising through Ramona's files, looking for situations where she thought she might be able to help track somebody down. Skip tracing—knowing where to look, who to talk to and what to say when you got somebody on the phone in order to find out the necessary information—was almost an art form, and Wendy was a natural.

  The moment she picked up the phone, the actress in her came out, and she could tell the little white lies that were sometimes required to extract information even Wolfe couldn't get. She even started logging on to his computer at home, searching through public records to help him put two and two together to find a bail jumper's whereabouts. In a few weeks, she gave him details he could use to help locate people he might not have found otherwise. In light of that, he really shouldn't have been surprised when she wanted to jump into yet another aspect of his job with both feet.

  He came home one afternoon, intending to pick up a quick bite to eat before heading out for surveillance that night. He'd told Wendy that morning that he'd be away most of the evening. She'd seemed so disappointed that he almost relented and told her he'd skip it, but he had a line on a guy he'd been after for a while, and it was time he brought him in. Not a big apprehension, but it was the routine ones that kept money in his pocket. Yes, it would be a screaming bore, but a necessary one. Then he got home and found out it wasn't going to be as boring as he thought.

  Wendy wanted to come with him.

  "Go with me?" he said. "What for?"

  "To keep you company."

  "You don't want to do that. Believe me."

  "Why not?"

  "Because there's nothing on earth more boring than a surveillance. I found out where his girlfriend lives, and I'm just hoping to get lucky and he'll show up there. I could be sitting there for hours for nothing."

  "Then you ought to be happy that I want to come along and keep you company. As a matter of fact, I've packed some snacks in case we're out there for a while." She picked up a paper bag off the kitchen table and opened it up. "See, it's all here. Apples, granola bars, pretzels, those cheese crackers you like, Twinkies for my sugar fix and bottled water. You bring the binoculars and the handcuffs, and we're all set."

  "Wendy, I don't think you understand just how boring—"

  She dropped the bag, circled her arms around his neck and silenced him with a kiss so scorching it could have brought a dead man back to life. It was all he could do not to strip her naked right there.

  "Granola bars, you say? Are they the chewy ones with the chocolate chips?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay, then. You can come."

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  « ^ »

  Joe Dixon was the kind of criminal who really had no reason to jump bail. He was a low-level drug dealer who would probably get off fairly easily if his attorney had any sense at all, but still he hadn't bothered to show up to court. One of those not-too-bright criminals who practically demanded that revolving doors be put on courthouses.

  Wolfe pulled his van up near the house in question and killed the engine. He got up and moved to the back. Wendy followed.

  "Cool van," Wendy said, looking around at his surveillance equipment, then running her hand over the bunk at the back of the van. "Nice place to crash. Do you sleep here often?"

  "Only if I get dragged out of town on somebody's trail. Saves having to get a hotel room if it's just one night."

  "Okay. Tell me what's going on with this guy."

  Wolfe pointed out the window. "Dixon's girlfriend lives in that house across the street two doors down." Wolfe sat on the bunk, picked up the binoculars and zeroed in on the house in question. "I'
ve got a source who says Dixon is hot for her in a major way. Chances are he won't be able to stay away for long."

  "Can I see?" Wendy asked.

  Wolfe handed the binoculars to her, then swapped places so she was sitting in front of him on the bunk.

  "Okay," she said. "I see the house."

  "Can you see through the window?"

  "Yeah. There's a woman inside. She's dressed to kill. All made up. Looks like she's waiting for a hot date. Dixon?"

  "Let's hope."

  "Okay, now she's sitting down on the sofa. Grabbing the phone. Calling … calling … ooh. She looks a little pissed. Wonder if he stood her up?"

  Wendy looked back over her shoulder at Wolfe with a calculating smile. "A woman scorned is a woman who'll get her boyfriend's butt over to her house no matter what. This should be good."

  As Wendy looked through the binoculars again, Wolfe wondered if there was anything that Wendy undertook that she didn't have a good time doing, if there was any way to dampen the good spirits that radiated from her twenty-four hours a day.

  If he was going to be able to keep his mind off her beautiful body long enough to get this job done.

  He sat so close behind her that he could smell the last traces of the flowery shampoo she'd used that morning. The collar of her sweater had slid to one side, and he stared down at the curve of her neck as it sloped along to her shoulder. Suddenly, surveilling Dixon was the last thing on Wolfe's mind.

  He pushed the sweater to the edge of her shoulder, then leaned in and kissed it.

  "What are you doing?" she asked.

  "Surveillance."

  "Wolfe," she murmured, staring through the binoculars again. "We have to keep watch."

  "I am watching."

  "Watching me doesn't count."

  "Okay, then. Let me have the binoculars."

  She handed them to him. He immediately tossed them aside. Without missing a beat, he reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it up, forcing her to raise her arms as he slid it off over her head.

  "Wolfe! What are you doing?"

  He tossed it down on top of the binoculars. "There. That's better."

  She started to turn around, but he put his hand against her shoulder.

  "Nope. Don't move."

  He took his shirt off, then edged closer to her, pressing his chest to her back. He circled his arms around her, then closed his hand over her naked breasts and squeezed softly.

  "You're playing on the job," Wendy said.

  "Nah. I'm the boss. I'm giving myself a break."

  Wendy sighed softly, relaxing against him. "This is how you expect to make a living? Feeling me up in your surveillance van?"

  "Okay. So it doesn't pay much. But the perks are unbelievable."

  All at once Wendy sat up straight. "Oh! Oh! Wolfe!"

  "What?"

  "Dixon!" she said, pointing out the window. "Is that him?"

  He teased his lips over her neck. "What?"

  "I see … see a car pulling up to the house…"

  He smoothed his hands down until one palm lay flat against her stomach and the other moved up and down her thigh. "A car?"

  "Yeah," she said, a little distracted. "And a man … is getting out … and…"

  "A man?"

  "Yes. Dixon. It has to be Dixon."

  Wolfe nudged her hair aside with his lips and nipped her earlobe, still stroking her thigh. "Don't care."

  "But your bail jumper—"

  "Forget him. Low-end. Nonviolent. Dime a dozen."

  "Don't you want to apprehend this guy?"

  Wolfe dragged his lips across her cheek. "Guy? What guy?"

  Wendy laughed softly. With a faint groan of resignation, she dropped her head back to rest against his shoulder.

  "Okay," she said. "I give up."

  "You're so easy."

  "No. You're just persuasive."

  She turned around and he dragged her into his lap, kissing her hard and deep as he cradled her in his arms. She was so beautiful, so willing, and he was so incredibly hot for her. All he wanted in this world was to make love to her right here and right now. He lay her down on the bunk and reached for the top button of her jeans. Just the sight of her half-naked filled him with anticipation, so he could only imagine how he was going to feel when she was totally naked. He flicked the button open. Then all at once, Wendy put her hands down on top of his.

  "Uh-oh."

  "What?"

  She stared up at him, her eyes wide. "I don't suppose you brought a condom, did you?"

  As the implication of that little omission made its way to Wolfe's sex-heated brain, he muttered a curse. Not once in his career had he ever had occasion to use a condom on a surveillance, but why hadn't he anticipated that this surveillance just might be a little different than most?

  "Please tell me you have one in that sack of yours," he said.

  "Sorry." She paused. "How about an apple instead?"

  Wolfe rose from the bunk.

  "Where are you going?" Wendy asked.

  "Home."

  She reached for her sweater. Before she could grab it, he yanked it up and headed for the front of the van, depositing it in the front passenger seat on top of her coat.

  "Hey! What are you doing?"

  "Saving myself some time later."

  "But—"

  "We're only five minutes from home. Just sit there and think about what I'm going to do to you when we get there."

  "So I'm just supposed to sit back here half-naked?"

  "That's the plan." He started the van, then glanced into the rearview mirror. "Move a little to your left."

  Confused, she did as he asked, crossing her arms over her breasts at the same time.

  "Nope," he said. "Arms down."

  She placed her palms against the seat.

  "Ah, there you go," he said. "That's perfect. Now, stay exactly in that position until we get home."

  She drew back with feigned offense. "Hey! What do you think I am, anyway? Your own personal sex toy?"

  "Works for me."

  "Pervert."

  "Exhibitionist."

  Wendy looked at him admonishingly. "You are so bad."

  "Just enjoy the ride, sweetheart," he told her, shoving the van into gear. "I know I'm going to."

  After pulling onto the street, he glanced into the rearview mirror, surprised to see that Wendy's expression had shifted from a narrow-eyed glare to a speculative look. She picked up the sack she'd brought and pulled out an apple. She sniffed it sinfully, then took a bite, chewing on it slowly.

  "Mmm. I do love apples."

  Her voice had slipped into a lower register, deep and throaty. Seductive. She took another bite, blinking with delight.

  What in the hell was she doing?

  Then, to his utter disbelief, she sat back on the bunk and, beginning at her navel, she ran the apple slowly back and forth over her stomach. Back and forth. Back and forth.

  "How about you, Wolfe?" she said, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "Do you like apples?"

  "Uh … they're okay."

  He flicked his gaze from the road to the rearview mirror, watching as she moved the apple upward to her breasts, rubbing the fruit in circles around her nipples, then dragging it right across them. She smiled seductively.

  "Do you like them any better now?" she asked.

  Oh, hell, yes. If she'd been holding a kumquat it would instantly have become his favorite fruit of all time.

  She closed her eyes with a rapturous sigh. "Mmm. Now I know what Eve saw in apples."

  Suddenly Wolfe realized that his attention had lingered in the rearview mirror a few seconds too long. He glanced back at the road again.

  Curb. Damn.

  He yanked the wheel hard to the left, causing the van to lurch. One more second looking in that rearview mirror, and he'd have been cruising down the sidewalk.

  "Wolfe," Wendy said admonishingly. "You keep your eyes on the road, now. Don't you go getting us into
an accident."

  Okay. So this hadn't been such a smart move after all. What good did it do him to look at her naked if he ended up wrapping the van around a telephone pole?

  "Once Eve ate the apple," Wolfe said, "she had to get dressed." He grabbed Wendy's sweater and tossed it to her. "Time for you to do the same."

  "Throw me a fig leaf," she said, flinging the sweater right back, "and I might."

  Damn.

  A few minutes later, he entered the warehouse and wheeled the van into its parking place. He leaped out of the vehicle and grabbed her sweater and his coat, leaving his shirt behind. He tossed her sweater onto the hood of the SUV beside the van. As he circled around to the back door of the van, he put on his coat, then opened the door to find her fumbling around, apparently looking for the sweater he'd deposited outside the car. She wheeled around to face him.

  "Hey! What did you do with my sweater?"

  He leaned in and gave her a look of warning. "I'll teach you to tease me."

  She crawled up on the bunk by the back door. She met him eye to eye, giving him a smug smile. "Excuse me, Wolfe, but I think I already know how."

  Before she realized what was happening, he grabbed her and hoisted her over his shoulder. He slammed the door behind him and started for the elevator.

  "Are you nuts?" she shouted. "It's freezing out here!"

  "You'll be warm soon enough. I'll make sure of that."

  He carried her through the warehouse, reaching into his coat pocket with his other hand to grab the remote for the elevator. He hit the button, and by the time they reached it, the doors had opened.

  He walked in, set her down and, as the doors were closing, he pressed her against the wall of the elevator. When the cold metal met her bare back she yelped and jumped forward, rubbing up against him. He backed her against the wall again, pinning her hands at her sides and kissing her long and hard. She smelled like apples. Felt like heaven. As he kissed her, she seemed to dissolve against him, as if the fight was melting right out of her. When he finally pulled away, she looked up at him, blinking dreamily and shivering at the same time.

  He opened up his coat. "Come here."

  She slid her hands beneath his sheepskin-lined coat and wound them around his back. He jumped a little when she pressed her cold palms to his back. She laughed softly and lay her head against his chest, and he closed his coat around her.