Hands On

by Debbi Rawlins

  The small cubicle looked like a survival kit. Candy bars, granola bars, a hairbrush, two tubes of lipstick, a toothbrush in a plastic baggie and a small leather business card holder. He picked it up and read the top card.

  “Goddamn!”

  A private investigator? He looked out of the tinted window toward the bar as if he could see the blonde. Cassie York, private investigator.

  “Shit!”

  She was going to screw everything up. Bask would know his latest con was a bust, and disappear. And Dalton would be stuck following this guy for the rest of his sorry career.

  No way. He got out of the car and practically sprinted to the back door. A dark blue Mercedes pulled into the lot just as he let himself in. With his luck, it was probably Bask, just because now he didn’t want him to show up.

  Dalton swore when he creamed his finger in the door in his haste to get to Cassie York. He had to stop her. Whatever she had planned. No matter what.

  CASSIE REALLY HATED playing the dumb blonde. But it worked. Every time. Men could be so stupid. She smiled at the bartender, and then sipped her diet cola from the straw he’d given her. Although it was more a salad bar than a soda. He’d dumped in cherries and orange slices and even a couple of green olives.

  She wasn’t complaining, though. She’d skipped lunch to get here on time. One flattened Milky Way was all she’d had since her breakfast of dry cereal.

  Hell, she’d starve for a week to get this assignment. Her first big case. Okay, so it was her first case, period. But she’d worked as an assistant to Chet, sleazeball private detective extraordinaire, long enough to know what she was doing.

  Even Jennifer Madison had faith in her. Hired her in a heartbeat. Explained what an important case this was, how it was more than just another case, how it was personal. And Cassie wouldn’t let her down. As an added bonus, once Cassie cracked the case and put Robert Bask behind bars, she’d rub Chet’s nose in it.

  She cringed, thinking about the one time she’d slept with him. Had she been out of her mind? Sure, he was good-looking, but he was so full of himself. Of course she’d been only twenty-two, fresh out of college and overly impressed with the well-dressed, fast-living Romeo. At twenty-four she was a lot wiser now.

  And cynical.

  “Can I get you something else, darlin’?” The bartender gave her a toothy grin.

  Darlin’? God, she hated endearments. Especially from strange men. She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to correct his grammar. Instead, she smiled and leaned forward.

  She really hadn’t meant to give him a view down her scooped-neck Victoria’s Secret T-shirt. “Do me a favor, sugar.”

  “Sure.” The guy eagerly leaned toward her.

  She touched the end of his dark beard with the tip of her polished pink finger. “Don’t tell Robert I was asking about him.”

  “Not a word.”

  No one else had heard her inquire about Bask. Except maybe the man wearing the Stetson who’d been sitting at the bar when she came in. He’d apparently gone to the bathroom and didn’t seem to care why she was here. Good thing.

  Too late it had occurred to her that she shouldn’t have asked about the guy at all. She should have just waited, acted coy once he arrived, waited for him to make a move. Cassie was his type, according to his wife. He liked twenty-something blondes with long hair, not too tall or thin.

  But he’d married Jennifer’s friend, Marianne, who’d turned fifty-five two months ago, and had never had a blond day in her life. She had money, though, and Robert seemed to like that, too.

  Cassie’s job was to test his faithfulness. Not her first choice of assignment. But the case was important to her boss. And if the guy turned out to be a gold-digging lothario, Cassie would expose him. With pleasure.

  She took another sip of the cola and then fished out a cherry. At the other end of the bar, the waitress placed an order with the bartender, which gave Cassie a small break. The guy had hung around like a dog hoping for scraps.

  She scooped out another cherry, polished it off, and then licked the sticky sweetness off her lips. She used the cocktail napkin to blot up the rest.

  Pink lipstick smeared the white paper.

  Darn it. She’d have to reapply it. Plus, she hadn’t checked her hair. It undoubtedly needed to be brushed. She sighed, and slid off the barstool. Some decoy she made.

  She hoped the restroom was in the direction the man with the Stetson had disappeared, although he’d been gone a long time. As if her thoughts had conjured him up, he reappeared just as she stepped away from the bar.

  Someone opened the front door behind her and sunlight streamed into the dimly lit room, illuminating the man’s face. Dark hair, dark eyes, rugged good looks, enhanced by the cleft in his chin.

  He looked past her toward the front door, and then stared directly at her.

  She averted her gaze and stepped to the side to give him room. Just as she was about to pass him, he grabbed her roughly by the elbows and pulled her against him. His rock solid chest muffled her gasp.

  “Baby, I was afraid you wouldn’t show up,” he said rather loudly.

  She pushed away from him, although he held on to her arms. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m sorry for walking out last night. I don’t blame you for being angry.”

  That he’d obviously mistaken her for someone else provided some comfort. At least he wasn’t some whacko who’d just flipped out. But when he started to walk backward, trying to take her with him, panic seized her.

  She kicked him in the shins.

  “Shit!” His grip slackened, but before she could jerk away, he regained his hold. He yanked her up close so that she had to tilt her head back to keep her nose from touching his chin. His eyes were dark with warning and sent a shiver down her spine. “Look, honey, I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”

  What was wrong with these guys in here? Why wasn’t anyone trying to help her? She parted her lips, ready to scream but the man slanted his head and covered her open mouth with his.

  She couldn’t breathe. She tried to pull away, tried to close her mouth, but he used his tongue to keep her lips parted, her breath trapped in her chest.

  His breath was warm and sweet and the kiss surprisingly tender, and for an instant she forgot she was being assaulted. When she finally gathered enough wits about her to try to bite him, he was too quick and eluded her.

  His withdrawal gave her the opportunity to call for the bartender. She sucked in a much-needed breath but before she could yell, he whispered, “Wait. I can explain.”

  Their eyes met. He had incredibly persuasive warm brown eyes. “Let go of me,” Cassie demanded.

  He hesitated, his dark brows slightly furrowed. “Sorry, I can’t do that,” he said, and then startled her by picking her up and cradling her to his chest. “I’ll be back to settle up, Jerry. The wife and me need to talk outside.”

  “The hell—”

  He silenced her with his mouth, using his tongue to ensure her cooperation as he carried her toward the front door. The bartender winked and waved a hand. They passed the guy who’d walked in a moment ago. He watched them with mild interest, and no inclination to get involved. He looked just like the picture she had of Robert Bask.

  The realization subdued her for the moment as her thoughts scrambled. This Neanderthal in a Stetson had just blown her cover. Bask thought she was married. But maybe that didn’t matter to someone like him…

  They got outside and panic started to rise again. She twisted her body, and he lost his hold. She started to go down fanny first, but he caught her and set her on her feet.

  She stumbled backward. “Stay away from me.”

  He put his hands up, palms out. “It’s not what you think. I’m a federal investigator.”

  “A what?” She stared in disbelief.

  “With the Attorney General’s office.” He reached into his jacket pocket.

  She took another step back. “D
on’t move or I’ll scream loud enough to have half the county come running.”

  His left brow rose in amusement. “I hope you weren’t counting on the half in there.”

  “I scream and you wanna bet those boys come running?”

  He sobered. “I’m reaching into my pocket to get my badge, okay?”

  She let out a shaky breath. “You have two seconds.”

  He promptly withdrew a small leather case, and then flipped it open. One side had a gold badge, the other a picture ID.

  “What’s your interest in Robert Bask?”

  Cassie stared at the badge. It looked authentic enough, and the picture matched. His name was J. Dalton Styles. She looked up into his dark probing eyes. “I don’t care who you are, or who you work for. You had no right manhandling me that way.”

  His lips lifted in a smirk. “Manhandling?”

  “That’s right,” she said, and slapped him across the face so hard her palm stung. “Now, we’re even.”

  2

  “WHAT THE HELL did you do that for?” Dalton rubbed his stinging cheek. The woman was a lunatic.

  “You have to ask?”

  “Obviously.”

  “The only thing obvious to me is that our government had better add manners and etiquette to their training programs.”

  He made a face. She had a great body, pretty face and slight southern accent that would ordinarily inspire thoughts of satin sheets and a good bottle of wine. But the woman was clearly a nut. “What does the government have to do with anything?”

  “You work for them, don’t you?”

  “Ah, Christ, don’t— Hey—” He grabbed her arm when she tried to leave. “This is serious. I need to know what your interest in Bask is.”

  “I’m a private detective.”

  “I know, but why are you after Bask?”

  “What do you mean you know?”

  Dalton darted a look toward the bar. No one had come outside but there were two windows from where they could be watched. “I checked you out. Your name is Cassie York and you work for Madison Investigations.”

  Her blue eyes widened. “You couldn’t have known that.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, so I don’t know about that. Tell me about Bask.”

  “I meant, that quick. You couldn’t have checked me out. You—” She glared, her face turning pink. “Have you been following me?”

  “Never laid eyes on you before today.” Damn, he didn’t want to admit he’d broken into her car. No telling what she’d do. “Look, we don’t have much time.”

  She folded her arms across her nicely rounded chest producing a fair amount of tempting cleavage. “Tough.”

  He bit back a curse. “Do you believe I’m a federal marshal?”

  She blinked, and uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “Well, I did, but maybe I shouldn’t.”

  Christ Almighty. “You saw my badge. The point is you’ve got to trust me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Bask is scum, and you obviously want him just like I do.”

  “Why do you say he’s scum? What’s he done to get your attention?”

  “Can we discuss this later?” He glanced toward the bar door. “Before you blow this case?”

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “Me? I’m not the one who picked you up and kissed you.” Her face got pink again, and she swiped nervously at her hair.

  “Shit!”

  “There’s no need to swear.”

  “Someone’s coming out of the bar.” He breathed a sigh of relief. It was one of the guys who’d been playing pool. “It’s not Bask. But you know damn well we’re being watched.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. Dalton took the opportunity to check out her goods. But he wasn’t fast enough to get away with it.

  She gave him a dirty look and pulled up her neckline. “I’m undercover.”

  “Ah.”

  Indignation made her eyes round and incredibly blue. “I’m supposed to be bait.”

  He nodded, annoyed with himself. “Sure, you’re working for the wife. I should’ve figured that out.”

  “I didn’t say that. I can’t tell you who I’m working for.”

  “Look, Cassie, wouldn’t it make sense to work together?” he said desperately. He was so close. Days away from finally collaring this guy. And now he had to bargain with this nutty blonde.

  She moistened her peach-tinted lips and furrowed her brows. “Work together how?”

  Nutty, but damn pretty. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to use her. Bask would jump at the bait. “I don’t know. I gotta figure it out.”

  She rubbed her arms with misgiving and nibbled at her lower lip. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought she was trying to make him crazy. Her lips were perfectly shaped, perfect fullness, and even when she wasn’t returning a kiss…

  He promptly derailed his thoughts. He didn’t need his jeans getting all tight and uncomfortable. Besides, he had some fast thinking to do and that meant blood needed to flow up and not down.

  “Look,” he said in a low coaxing voice. “At this point, our chances are much better if we work together, however necessary.”

  The indecision vanished from her face. “By ‘at this point’ you must be referring to the mess you made in there.”

  He gritted his teeth, and then forced a smile. “Right.”

  With a smug curve to her lips, she said, “Okay, I’ll work with you as long as it’s not anything—weird.”

  “Define weird.”

  Concern darkened her face.

  “Only kidding.” He checked the door again. All clear. “Well, we can’t shake on it. We’re supposed to be married. Couples who’ve just made up usually…” he shrugged and tried to keep a straight face “…kiss.”

  She gave him an unexpectedly sweet smile. “Or maybe we haven’t made up. Maybe I’m still angry with you. I could slap your face again.”

  He reflexively touched his cheek. It still stung. “I’ll pass.”

  Regret briefly clouded her eyes. “What do we do now? Go back in? Wait for him to leave?”

  The decision was taken out of their hands. Bask stepped outside, stopped to put on his sunglasses, and then looked their way.

  “Show time.”

  “What?” Cassie started to turn around.

  He grabbed her hands and forced her to face him. “Bask is headed this way. Talk. We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Married stuff.”

  “Oh, so we should keep arguing then.”

  He snorted. Obviously she’d been married before. “Follow my lead, okay?”

  She hesitated, and then gave a curt nod.

  Bask had gotten within a few yards. Dalton pulled her closer and slid his hands around her waist. “Baby, you want to make this marriage work, don’t you?”

  “Frankly, I’m not sure anymore.” She tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

  He hauled her against him. “Come on, baby, we’re good together. Think about what you’d miss.”

  She let out a dismissive laugh. “Not much, lately.”

  He reminded himself this was only playacting. Nothing personal. “Then let me refresh your memory.” He slanted his mouth over hers and used her startled gasp to his advantage.

  His tongue easily slid between her lips. At first she tensed, and then she opened more to him, her tongue tentatively touching his. She tasted like cherries and oranges and soft feminine mystique. Her soft full breasts pushed against his chest and one of her hands flattened over his chest.

  She let out a soft whimper, and Dalton dove deeper, sliding his hands over her bottom and pulling her harder against his straining fly.

  Someone cleared his throat.

  Bask.

  Shit! Dalton had forgotten about him.

  He retreated slowly and met Cassie’s glazed eyes. “Did that help your memory, honey?”

  She blinked, the fingers of the hand on his chest curling, her nails digging into him. Fire chased
the daze look in her eyes. “This is what I’m supposed to miss?” Her breathlessness seemed to anger her more.

  Made him smile.

  “Bastard,” she whispered.

  Bask cleared his throat again. “Excuse me, folks.”

  They both looked at him. Cassie did a good job of pretending she didn’t know he was there. Her eyes widened and her cheeks got pink.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” Bask said, the megawatt smile that had netted him illegal millions in place. “But I couldn’t help overhearing you two in the bar.”

  “Yeah, so?” Dalton gave the guy a challenging glare.

  Bask’s smile didn’t waver. “I may be able to help.”

  “Mind your own business, pal.” Dalton turned away from him to look at Cassie.

  She jerked away from him. “You don’t have to be rude to the man. After all, you did cause a scene he couldn’t help but overhear.”

  “I caused a scene?”

  “Too bad you didn’t inherit your mama’s manners as well as her money.”

  Dalton forced back a surprised smile. She was good. “You leave my mama out of this. You never complain about the cushy lifestyle she’s provided for you.”

  “You’re right. My only complaint is you.” She lifted her chin, turned back to Bask, and gave him a sugary sweet smile. “I must apologize for my husband’s rudeness. Please. You were saying?”

  Bask homed in on her receptiveness. His body language even changed subtly. He angled toward Cassie and maintained eye contact, even mirroring a couple of her movements, a trick to further put her at ease. The guy was slick. No doubt about it.

  “I’d like to give you my business card.” He plucked one out of the leather billfold he withdrew from his blue Armani sports coat. “My name is Robert Blankenship and I own Back to Basics.”

  Before he could actually hand the card off to her, Dalton snatched it out of his hand. “I’ll take that.”

  Cassie made a sound of disapproval.

  “Actually, I was planning on giving you each one.” Bask presented her with a card and a wide smile, showing off his expensive caps.

  “Thank you.” She gave Dalton a withering look, and then her gaze lowered to the card.