Spice

by Seressia Glass

  “Ooh.” She bounced in her chair. “Can we? Even a quickie would hit the spot right now.”

  Reluctance crossed his features. “Dammit, no. Every quickie we’ve attempted has turned into a marathon. I have to leave like five minutes ago, but I couldn’t go without seeing you. You know I’ll be thinking of you every moment I’m away from you, right?”

  She tried for a joke. “And that’s different from any other day how?”

  He released a soft gust of laughter. “True. I do think about you more often than is probably healthy, but I don’t give a damn. Thoughts of you are infinitely better than the other things I have to think about.”

  “Like the case you have to consult on.”

  “Like this case.” His lips thinned. “We’re going to have our weekend, Nadia. Even if it doesn’t start Friday night. If I have to drive all night from Los Angeles, I’ll be back on Saturday.”

  “I’ll be here, waiting.”

  “Will you?” He stared at her, his eyes intense with need, with something else she couldn’t name.

  She tightened her grip on his hand, then reached up to cup his cheek. “Of course I will. I have a feeling the reunion sex is going to be pretty freaking epic!”

  He pressed his cheek against her palm. “I have the feeling I’m going to need it.”

  Worry crawled through her veins. “Is it that bad?”

  Again his smile vanished. “It sounds like it.”

  She couldn’t help it. She got up, sat in his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It didn’t matter who watched them or how much grief she’d catch from her staff later. She’d do anything to erase his stress, to give him something else to think about. Considering how he’d been there for her when she was dealing with Audie, it was the very least she could do.

  It wasn’t about keeping the relationship scales balanced. Not anymore. Something weighed on Kane, something he probably couldn’t talk about for a variety of reasons. Whatever it was, she didn’t need to know. All she knew was that he was bothered, and if she could do something to take that bother away, she’d do it even if only for a little while.

  His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her even closer as he deepened the kiss, changing it from soothing to sensual. As always she found herself sliding into his sensual web, drugged by his kisses, craving the sensations only he could evoke within her.

  He pulled away, reluctance limning his features. “Damn, Nadia,” he breathed. “What you do to me should be a federal crime!”

  “Does this mean that you’re going to detain me, Professor?” she whispered in his ear.

  He growled. He actually growled. “If I hadn’t already promised I’d be there in a few hours, I’d say to hell with everyone and kidnap you to Lake Tahoe or something.”

  “You’re not a reckless man, Kane,” she said, rising to her feet.

  “With you, I feel completely, wholly, and most unapologetically reckless.” He gave her a rueful smile as he stood. “But thanks for being the voice of reason.”

  He stepped back from her, straightening his jacket, regaining his composure. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Wait a moment.” She hurried to the counter and asked Rosie to bag up one of the sticky buns while she made a chai latte to go. Taking the bag from Rosie, she came back around the corner and pressed the bag and cup into his hands. “Here’s a care package for the road. I know the buns always put you in a good mood, so at least you’ll be good for the plane ride.”

  “Nadia.” He drew in a deep breath, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. She waited, but all he said was, “I’ll call you when I get in and when I’m able to leave. At the very least, I want your voice to be the last thing I hear before I go to sleep tonight. All right?”

  “Same here. I don’t care how late it is, you call me. Promise?”

  “As my lady desires.” He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment, then turned and quickly walked out the door.

  “Whew.” She sagged against the table, her heart aching. Kane had barely been gone a minute and she already missed him. Missed him so keenly that it felt like physical pain.

  “Is everything okay?” Siobhan asked as she approached.

  “Yeah.” Nadia straightened, and gave her partner a shaky smile. “He’s been asked to consult on a case, so he’s heading down to Los Angeles. He said he’d try to get back early Saturday, but there’s a good chance the weekend’s toast.”

  “Oh honey, I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to spending some quality time with the professor.”

  “I was, but something always comes up to throw a monkey wrench in our plans. Do you think it’s a sign?”

  “A sign of what?”

  “That I shouldn’t be with Kane.”

  “I think you’re creating drama where there is none, hon,” Siobhan said. “We all just watched that very public display of affection you two had. You damn near melted the window.”

  Heat stained Nadia’s cheeks. “Well, ah, if we’re going to rate this on the sex alone, this relationship thing gets an A-plus.”

  “And the problem with that is?”

  “What about the other stuff?”

  “What other stuff?”

  “The other stuff that makes a relationship a relationship.”

  Siobhan cocked her head. “Like what?”

  “Like going to the movies, or bowling. Like spending more than an overnight with each other. Every time we’ve tried to take a full weekend together, something’s happened. I mean, that’s just weird, isn’t it?”

  Siobhan settled her hands on her hips. “Are you doing that freak-out thing again?”

  “I think so.” She folded her arms across her chest. “This thing with Kane . . . I want it to become something and at the same time I don’t.”

  “Because if it becomes something, emotions get involved.” Siobhan gave her a knowing look. “And if emotions get involved, you think you’re going to screw it up.”

  “Of course I’m going to screw it up,” Nadia retorted. “Have you met me?”

  “I have. This you and the old you. I’ve also met your professor and I know enough about him to know he’s got his crap together, and he’s not the selfish bastard that Gary was.”

  “Siobhan!”

  “I know, speaking ill of the dead and all that.” Siobhan waved her hand in dismissal. “But he was selfish. Wanting to have his cake and eat it too. You may have walked into that mess with your eyes wide open, but he put down the rug over the trapdoor and invited you to walk across it.”

  Nadia winced, but sometimes the truth hurt. “Kane doesn’t know any of that. I haven’t told him, and he hasn’t looked it up on the Internet.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  She cut Siobhan a glance. “You think he’d still want me if he knew?”

  “That’s the real issue, isn’t it? It’s not about what he makes you feel or being afraid of those feelings. What you’re really afraid of is that he’ll learn everything about the way you were, and that will be enough to make him not want to be with you the way you are now.”

  “Give the lady a prize.” She’d told Kane about her rehab stint, but he still saw her as that hot bakery lady. Would his opinion change when he found out about Gary?

  Siobhan slapped her hands down on Nadia’s shoulders. “So here’s what I think. I think your emotions are already engaged in this relationship. Yes, you are in a relationship, whether you spent one hour or forty-eight hours together. If you don’t believe me, remember how he supported you through the night of Audie’s attack. Someone who is just in it for sex wouldn’t have done that.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right. I’m the oldest and the voice of experience. Maybe it’s time to adjust your schedule, give Jas some more responsib
ility. If the relationship is worth it, if Kane is worth it, then you should bend a little. And for goodness sakes, don’t let your fear override your instincts.”

  Nadia eyed her partner. “You know, I think you need your own talk show. They’re doling them out like Halloween candy these days, but you’d actually be good at it.”

  Siobhan let loose with her throaty laugh. “Like hell. I’m good at failed relationships, trying again, and failing again. And I’ll probably go through it yet again beating my head against a very stubborn wall.”

  Nadia knew Siobhan meant her nonexistent relationship with her daughter. She wrapped her arms around the other woman. “So you’ve heard from Colleen then?”

  “No, which I suppose is answer enough. Still, I’ll try again.” Siobhan blew out a breath, then gave Nadia a watery smile. “Keep hope alive, right?”

  “Right.” She hugged the blonde woman again then stepped back. “It looks like my Friday night is open. Want to come over for a low-nutritional value dinner and a superhero movie marathon? Just you and me?”

  “You’re on. And I won’t even be mad at you if you cut out after a phone call from a certain college professor.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Kane walked into his hotel’s bar, his need for a drink eclipsed only by his need to hear Nadia’s voice. The case he’d been called to consult on was horrific and shaped up to be big in a career making or destroying sort of way. The prosecution wanted to prove that the accused was completely sane and each side had provided experts to support their supposition. It seemed that no one wanted it to go to trial, but there was no way that anyone, especially the victims’ loved ones, would let the accused get away without some repercussions. A trial was not going to be easy, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of it.

  He spotted his friend Simon Mayhew at the bar and went over to join him. “Hey, Simon. How’s it going?”

  Simon’s dark face split into a huge grin. “Kane, good to see you, man! You know me, things are so good, complaining would be a crime!”

  Simon signaled the bartender. “What’s your poison?”

  Kane ordered an Irish whiskey, neat, then took the barstool next to his friend. As usual, Simon had already become buddies with most of the patrons nearby. It was a gift he had, a gift that made him a top-notch investigative journalist and a regular on the twenty-four-hour news channels. They’d met on the set of one such program, talking about the Red Light case. Their back-and-forth had apparently made for great television, and they’d been invited back together numerous times.

  They worked well together, so well that when their mutual agent had suggested that they collaborate on a book, Kane had quickly agreed. One nonfiction crime book had become three, and neither of them had looked back.

  “So what brings you down from the bay to the City of Angels?” Simon asked after Kane took a sip of his whiskey.

  “I’m consulting on a new case.”

  “Really.” Simon turned to him, and Kane could easily see the wheels turning behind his coffee brown eyes. “Local or federal?”

  “Come on, Simon, you know I’m not going to divulge that.”

  “Now I’m really intrigued. Are you sure I can’t convince you to become an unnamed source?”

  Kane snorted. “Like it would be hard for anyone to figure out the identity of your source.”

  “You have a valid point, Professor,” Simon said with a sage nod. “However, I wouldn’t be a good journalist if I didn’t point out that people can speculate all they want, but I never reveal my sources.”

  “I know you don’t. I still have no comment.”

  “All right, man. I can respect you being a man of integrity and all.” Simon sat back, lifting his glass in a silent request for a refill. “Want to tell me why you wanted to meet? Not that I don’t like seeing that pretty face of yours, but my wife is way hotter.”

  Kane suppressed a flash of jealousy at the mention of Simon’s wife. Simon and Caroline Mayhew had been married for nearly twenty years, right out of high school. Although he had managed to dodge all of Caroline’s attempts to fix him up with one of her seemingly endless supply of single friends, Kane wanted what they had. He wanted what his parents had.

  An image of Nadia came unbidden to his mind. Not naked and spread for him but standing in front of him in her Sugar and Spice T-shirt and those jeans that hugged her curves, concern and care lighting the depths of her eyes as she’d sent him off with a cup of tea and a bag of pastries. That Nadia was the treasure, the one she rarely allowed to the surface even though the care she felt for those close to her was intrinsic to her nature. He wasn’t going to push her, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t lean a little.

  “Hey, are you all right?”

  Kane polished off his whiskey then asked for another on the rocks. “Yes. I wanted to talk to you about a new business opportunity.”

  Simon’s alert gaze sharpened. “What sort of business opportunity?”

  “We’ve made a name for ourselves with our nonfiction work,” Kane reminded him. “What do you think about trying our hand at writing fiction? I’m thinking thrillers, police procedurals, that sort of thing.”

  Simon stared at him for a charged moment, leaving Kane to wonder if his friend thought he’d popped his mental clutch. Then Simon burst into loud laughter that drew the attention of everyone in the bar.

  “I say it’s about damn time we do something like that!” he exclaimed, thumping Kane on the back. “We already do a good job writing and researching the nonfiction stuff. It shouldn’t be that hard for us to switch to fiction, come up with a compelling main character or investigative team and the unusual cases they encounter.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” Kane said, warming to the idea. This was the best part about working with Simon—they fed off each other’s ideas like piranhas at a buffet. He pulled out his smartphone and began taking notes as he and Simon tossed ideas, characters, and potential plots around. The more they talked, the more the thought of writing fiction grabbed him. They could do this.

  “My schedule’s tight right now, but we really need to jump on this. We need to call Stewart and sound him out about it.”

  “He’s probably got some contacts he can feel out. Will you have some free time tomorrow? We can meet in my office and call him.”

  Kane shook his head. “My schedule is slammed tomorrow, and I want to be back home tomorrow night if I can help it.”

  “Oh yeah?” Simon raised an eyebrow. “Any particular reason you’re in a hurry to get back to small-town Crimson Bay when the bright lights of LA are waiting for you?”

  “Fuck off, man.”

  Simon broke into booming laughter. “There’s definitely a particular reason. What’s her name?”

  Kane hesitated. Simon wouldn’t be satisfied with just a name, and considering that he’d made Los Angeles his base of operations for the last fifteen years, it was more than likely that he’d know all about Nadia and her former life.

  “Sorry, Simon, but I’m going to play this one close for a little while longer,” he finally said. “It’s still new, but so far, so good. As for the project, we can do our usual communication thing—text, e-mail. I’ll try to shuffle some things around, see if I can come back down in about a month or so if we need to do a face-to-face.”

  “If you do, you should stay with us,” Simon told him. “You know Caro would love to have you.”

  “Meaning, Caro would love to hook me up with a new batch of eligible women.” Kane held up his hands. “No thanks.”

  “The only way Caro’s giving up on you is if you give in to the inevitable, my friend,” Simon joked. “Surrender to the joy that is domestic bliss.”

  “I don’t have any plans to surrender yet,” he replied, trying not to think about a certain curvy brunette who had taken up residence in his mind a few weeks ago and showed no signs
of moving out any time soon. “If I do, you’ll be the tenth to know.”

  “Dude, that’s harsh.” Simon took another sip of his beer, his gaze assessing. “Everything all right at Herscher?”

  “You act like you’re an investigative reporter or something.” Simon was just too damn good at his job.

  “Seems to me that’s a smoke signal right there. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing but the usual drama that ensues when contracts are up and tenure is on the line.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt to keep my options open. Who knows? Maybe we can get this series off the ground and then remaining an assistant professor won’t be that much of a big deal.”

  “Either way, we need to make this happen.” Simon stood, reached for his wallet.

  Kane stopped him. “I’ll just put it on my room tab. Thanks for coming out.”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m all over this project. Definitely worth the drive.” They clasped hands then did the straight guy half-hug thing. “Good seeing you, Kane.”

  “You too, Simon. I’ll flesh out our notes then send you a copy. Give my love to Caro.”

  “Nobody gives Caro love but me. I’ll tell her you said hello, though.”

  Simon left. Kane settled the bill then headed for the elevator, his phone still in his hand. He wanted to call Nadia, but it was after nine and she had to get up at four. It would be selfish of him to call her just so he could hear her voice.

  But he wanted to, He really wanted to.

  Back in his room, he quickly stripped then showered, pulling on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed with his phone and his laptop to flesh out his notes. The meeting with Simon had gone much better than he’d hoped. Optimism surged in his veins, optimism that had been in short supply earlier in the day. Trying to get inside the mind of a perpetrator was never an easy thing, especially when one had to wall off one’s own moral code and assume the cold mantle of objectivity.

  He didn’t have to like the case to sign on, but he did have to believe in the cause. He had to believe his input helped, or there wasn’t any point in doing it.