Lucas sat at her perfunctory desk with all its little cubbies and drawers and booted up her computer. Searching though her desk drawers, it didn’t take him long to ascertain that there were no hidden panels. He took the drawers out and looked beneath them. Nothing. Bank statements had been neatly filed and kept in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet that matched her desk. Wow, seven years of bank statements. No canceled checks. He inserted the flash drive on his key ring into the USB port on the front of her CPU and began uploading the person-to-person mirror program. After taking some time to scan the last three years of bank statements and finding nothing that triggered a red flag he turned his attention to the top drawer.
There was nothing in the first or second drawer but extremely organized files pertaining to her classes. Tests, assorted forms and project ideas. There was a phone log of the kids she had this year and whose parents she’d called. She’d made notes on each call. Evidently she was having problems with Braden Conner. A belligerent and disruptive young man whom she’d noted needed consistent discipline and guidance. The boy sounded like a pain-in-the-ass punk to Lucas. Shaking his head, he turned his attention to her disk file. All were in jewel cases and meticulously labeled with content lists. There didn’t seem to be any floppies. Everything looked to be filed efficiently.
The sound of the shower had him abandoning his mission and heading back to the bedroom. If he had awakened her wouldn’t she have come looking for him? Why didn’t she come looking for him? And why was she taking a shower at ten after three in the morning? All those questions left his brain when he crossed her bedroom and stepped into the expansive, richly decorated bathroom.
For a long moment he stood mesmerized, watching her steamy silhouette standing under the shower. She moaned and let her head fall back as the hot spray beat against her. His already rigid shaft throbbed in response. He bit back a groan as he pushed his jeans past his hips and opened the shower door.
Jaimee screamed and backed into the corner of the stall, covering herself with one arm as she groped for the back scrubber to use as a weapon. Lucas caught her wrist before she could deliver the blow to his skull.
“Whoa, baby, it’s me. It’s okay,” he rushed to assure her.
She slumped against him, panting as her fear dissipated. But her relief was evidently short lived if the quick jab to his stomach with her balled fist was any indication.
“You scared the hell out of me!” She glared up at him and he couldn’t help but chuckle. She was adorable when she was mad. She punched him again and he grunted just to give her the satisfaction of feeling she had delivered at least one productive blow.
“Damn your ass. I thought you had left,” she grumbled.
“No. I got up to use the bathroom, then I went downstairs to call my machine. I didn’t want to wake you up. I’m supposed to be off tomorrow but they were going to call if they could use me. Just had to check and see if anyone had called me in.” Lying came easy enough. He’d done it for so long.
“Oh. So did they?” She paused and stepped closer, her breasts pressing lightly against his chest.
“Unfortunately.” Then he sighed. “I have to be there in a couple of hours.”
She nodded as she let her gaze take in his body, her hands cautiously reaching out to touch his chest.
“Jaimee, why are you taking a shower just after three in the morning?” He softened his voice and took her face in his hands.
“I woke up, you were gone and…” Smiling wryly, she wrinkled her nose. Damn she was pretty. “Well, I was kinda sticky…and cold.”
“I’m sorry, sweetness.” His mouth brushed hers soft, warm, wet. Then it hit him. He pulled back from her abruptly. “Fuck.” How could he have been so irresponsible? Never. He’d never, ever forgotten a condom before. He was clean as far as disease went. He got tested regularly and he never had sex without a condom. Never until now.
“What?” Her brows furrowed.
He rested his forehead against hers. “We didn’t use protection, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” She shrugged then quickly lifted her head. “Oh.” Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. “Do you have…?”
“No, no, I’m clean. I’ll get you the test results.” For the second time she sagged against him in relief.
“I was tested a long time ago,” she said quietly, her expression serious. “I can get tested again if you want but I’ve only been with Brent, and he and I…”
“Jaimee, it’s not the possibility of you having an STD. I know you’ve only been with one man. I’m concerned that I’ll get you pregnant.” The image of Jaimee smiling contently at him, her tummy swollen with his baby flashed through his mind. The emotion that followed in its wake nearly staggered him. Taking a deep breath he shook himself mentally. Get a grip, he ordered himself. “Are you on the pill?”
She shook her head and looked up at him with a wistful smile. “But don’t worry, I can’t get pregnant. I was married for seven years and never used anything.”
“Yeah, but that could have been your husband’s problem, not yours.”
The sadness that flashed in her eyes made him wish he’d never brought it up. “No, I wanted a baby. We tried and tried. Brent was tested and he was fine, better than fine. The doctor said scads of things could be the cause of my problem. Evidently, I don’t ovulate. I can’t…never have, never will…” She swallowed hard, looking away. “I should have gotten more tests but Brent seemed to not want to push it. He was content with just the two of us and since it wasn’t a cancer threat, I just let it go.”
Everything in him wanted to take that pain away. Make her forget again. He tilted her face up to him and kissed her gently, licking the warm water from her bottom lip. She was delicious.
“I’m turning into a prune,” she murmured against his mouth.
He moaned, his hands smoothing over the round curve of her ass as he tasted her sweet mouth. His fingers found her hot and creamy for him again. “You don’t feel pruney.”
She laughed softly and pressed herself against him. Her arms circled his waist, ignoring the warm spray that cascaded over them. He slowly began washing her hair, loving the feel of the rich lather gliding over her supple curves as he washed the rest of her.
For that moment he wanted to push everything else aside: The Collective, Brent Turner, his assignment, the whole fucking FBI…and just be her lover. But, he couldn’t forget The Collective and what they were willing to do to get what they wanted. He couldn’t forget that asshole Brent Turner who left his wife aching while he went whoring after more money. And he couldn’t forget his job, his oath, his assignment to keep this woman in the dark while he protected her, probed her for information, gave her the pleasure and attention she so desperately needed, making her realize she was desirable, all while betraying her.
They didn’t speak as he led her from the shower, dried her hair and wrapped her up in a towel. There was more between them than he had the right to acknowledge. When The Collective was brought down, Brent Turner was listed as murdered and Jaimee was finally as safe and free as she believed herself to be all along…she would hate him. He pulled her into his arms and tilted her face up to kiss her gently on that sweet voluptuous mouth of hers then rested his forehead against hers.
“I hate that I have to go, baby,” he murmured as he released her.
“It’s okay.” She smiled and nodded but there was a glimmer of uneasiness in her eyes that had tension twisting his gut.
“Today might be hectic but I’ll see you tomorrow.” He wasn’t sure why he told her that, he was well aware of how it sounded but he wanted to reassure her. Now as she sat down on the bed, watching him dry himself and dress, she looked at him with a controlled expression that had him fighting the urge to toss her towel away, lay her down on the bed and hold her until dawn. Safe, warm and protected.
She met his gaze and smiled solemnly. “Lucas. I don’t expect anything from you. You don’t have to make promises or worry about me a
ssuming things about…” she waved her hand, “…this.”
He pulled his shirt over his head and didn’t bother to tuck it in. “You don’t expect anything from me?”
Anger laced through him, tightening every muscle in his body. This was a good thing, he kept telling himself. But what she was thinking was clear in her overly expressive pale blue eyes and it seriously pissed him off.
A shaky sigh escaping her lips. “I just meant that…”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Lady, you better think before you finish that sentence.”
She blinked, her guilt and confusion melted into indignation. “I was just letting you off the hook, okay?” she stammered, looking for the words.
“I know what you’re doing.” All the times he had loved ’em and left ’em hoping they wouldn’t want more from him and here he stood irate that he was being let off the hook. Any other time he would have smiled, kissed her sweetly and left, thanking God he’d gotten so lucky. This time wasn’t like any other time and her casual dismissal of any possible emotion he might have for her stung. Because this time he knew what was between them, even if he couldn’t let the word form in his mind. From the moment she stood up to him at the gym, sweaty, red-faced, and poised for battle, he knew. “And it’s bullshit.”
“What is your problem?” she snapped. Fire flashed in her eyes, her jaw tightened. “It was nice…”
“Nice? It was nice?” he shouted and took a step toward her.
She lifted her chin. Her lips pressed together in determination as she held her ground, challenging him. “Yes! Well okay, yeah, it was more than nice. It was incredible. But look, we’re both adults. No big deal. We both know I’m definitely not your type of female and you’re not my type either so drop the righteous indignation.” She paused, glaring at him. “You should just leave.”
Did she think he’d done her a favor? That what had happened between them had been nothing more than a mercy fuck? The idea clawed at his stomach and made him furious. She’d like to take control of what had happened, label it, file it in one of her organized little cubbies and pretend she’d put it away. It was how she coped with everything. He’d be damned if he’d let her do that to him, or to herself. Before she could say another word he closed the space between them and cupped her jaw with one hand, not caring that his fingers pressed uncomfortably into her soft cheek.
“This was not nice,” he hissed through his teeth. “I am not nice. Do you understand me?” He couldn’t help the growl that rumbled from deep in his chest even as he saw the bright fear in her eyes. He grasped her wrist and pressed her hand against the rigid length of his erection. “This is harsh reality, baby. You caused it. I didn’t do you any favors. From the moment I laid eyes on you I’ve been hard and aching to fuck you. And now that I have, I only want more.” He let go of her wrist, pulled her into his arms and held her tighter.
“Let go,” she growled back and shoved at his shoulders. The tremor left her body as she looked up at him, her impossibly light blue eyes darkened and flashed not with fear but rage. Hot, instantaneous, electric fury and a smoldering hunger flooded through him.
“Hell no.” The corner of his mouth tilted as he took in the beauty of her raw, real, and just emotion. Though he spoke more calmly his voice was still rough and edgy. Her jaw was tight, her body rigid, and her hands pressed against his chest. Her short little nails biting into his flesh through the cotton of his T-shirt had him fighting the urge to throw her back against the bed and surge into that hot velvet heat again. God, he was obsessed.
The kiss was hard. He’d meant for it to be. Hard and possessive. His thumb pressed gently against the corner of her jaw until she opened to him and he swept the delicate recesses of her warm sweet mouth. Staking his claim. His hands sifted through the damp strands of her hair, his fingers curled against her scalp as he held her there. Tilting his head, his lips moved against hers. His tongue hotly stroked the tender interior of her mouth until her whimper of protest melted into a moan of surrender.
He waited until her body relaxed in submission and her arms wrapped around his waist before he raised his head and looked down at her. He untangled his fingers from her hair as he watched the emotion play on her beautiful face. Patiently he waited for her to look up at him. Finally her breathing slowed and she swallowed hard. Her eyelids lifted slowly as she met his gaze. Hell no, he’d never let her go.
She frowned. Her painfully organized mind was working on what to say, how to process this situation. Without giving her a chance to regroup and execute her next attack he willed himself to take his hands off her and step away. Without saying a word he turned to walk out of the room.
“Lucas.” Quietly she said his name, halting him. He looked over his shoulder at her, still angry with her, with himself. “If you plan on making this a more than one night thing…”
He turned to face her, tilted his head and studied her standing there, understanding sinking in to grip his heart in a tight vise. “Yes?”
“Know for sure. Don’t play with me.”
The vulnerability, the risk she believed she was taking was clear in her eyes even though her expression was inscrutable and resolved. He closed the short distance between them, knowing the choice he was making. He brushed her cool cheek with the back of his fingers, ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “This was never a game, Jaimee. I never do anything I’m unsure of.”
He touched his lips to hers, lingering long enough to breathe in her scent, memorize the taste of her before he turned away once more and left her room.
Chapter Fourteen
It was his fault. He had brought Brent Turner in.
Frustrated, Ronald tugged at his tie as he stepped into his home office. He quietly shut the door behind him and tossed both his jacket and tie over the arm of the high back chair, offhandedly dropping his briefcase on his desk. He headed straight for his private bar, poured himself a double shot of Jack and tossed it back. The man had been a mathematical wizard, he reasoned, had good ideas and a healthy hunger for wealth, but he lacked common sense and Ronald should have recognized that. He sighed deeply as he refilled his glass. If he had, he wouldn’t be in this fucked-up situation.
He sat, leaning back in his desk chair, breathing in the scent of leather and whiskey. The aroma of wealth, he mused, did little to soothe him tonight. His plans to flatter Turner’s wife, flirt, lie out of his ass and bed her quickly should have been easy. That way he could have searched the house without much fuss, found the information he needed and given it to Zachary. Then it wouldn’t have been necessary to get rid of Jaimee. His ass would be off the hook. No problem.
Yeah right, no problem. He swallowed the last of his drink and set the glass on the desk. Screwing the fat bitch had never been his idea of a good time. He preferred his women petite, slim, blonde and obedient. Jaimee wasn’t any of those. Fucking her was the best way to find out where Turner had hidden the day planner and get the number for the Swiss account where he stashed the money he’d pilfered. Playing hide the salami with Jaimee would be better than taking the beating Zachary would deliver.
Good thing for Turner that he took a header over that ridge. Zachary’s method of killing him would have been exceedingly more painful and would have taken a hell of a lot longer. A shudder passed through his body and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Zachary was livid with him now though. He had to get that information or he’d get the full brunt of Edward Zachary’s rage.
Leaning forward, he rubbed at his temples. It didn’t make sense that Jaimee wasn’t as easy to charm as he thought she’d be. That really chapped his ass. It wasn’t like she had a lot of offers. Hell, she should have been grateful. He’d never had problems getting women a whole lot better-looking than that cow. Evidently Turner was right when he bitched about her being frigid. Shit, he shoulda just beaten it out of her. Better her than him He might have done just that if the neighbor hadn’t shown up acting all protective.
His brow furrowed thinking
about the look on the big man’s face. What was that about anyway? Surely a guy like that wouldn’t have the hots for a woman like Jaimee. Ronald shrugged off the feeling of foreboding that threatened to add to his already troubled mind. A guy that pretty and that pumped was more than likely a pansy-assed model on steroids. Probably gay, or maybe women like Jaimee were the best he could do. One of the main reasons Ronald never gave steroids a try was because he’d heard they’d shrink a man’s dick. No way in hell was he gonna take that kind of chance. He wasn’t willing to take on a guy that big by himself either. He picked up the phone and started to dial when his head snapped up at the sudden rap on the solid oak door.
“Ron?” Sandy said softly before peering around the door at him.
She looked like a damn rat when she did that. Her nose was too long, too pointy. He hung up and glared at her. “What?”
“You had some calls. I left the messages on your desk. I wanted to make sure you got them.”
“I saw ’em.”
She glared back. “Fine. Do you plan to come down for dinner?”
“No.”
Her beady eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line. “Fine,” she snapped as she turned to go.
“Sandy.”
She halted and looked back at him over her shoulder.
“Don’t ever come into my office again when I’m not here. You understand me? Ever!”
Without saying a word she walked out, slamming the door behind her. If only he’d had a prenup prepared before he’d married the hag. The private line trilled, punctuating his misery. He knew who it was before he answered and his heart skipped a beat.
“Hello.”
“Tell me you have the day planner.”
“Mr. Zachary. Not yet, but soon. I’ll have it soon.”
Silence.
“Things didn’t go as planned.”
“And what exactly were your fool plans, Marshall?”
“Well, I…”
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