Satisfaction Guaranteed

by Lucy Monroe

“That must have been hard…for all of them.”

  “It was. My great-aunts and uncles missed him. We all did. In a family like ours, you can’t have a member just walk away that everyone doesn’t feel it, even the generations that come after.”

  “Is that why you looked him up when you grew up?”

  “Yes. I’m glad I did. He was an interesting man.”

  “He killed people for a living…that’s…”

  “Hard. He paid for his career choice, but he had integrity. I wish I’d gotten to know him better, to tell you the truth.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re right about him paying a price for his choice. I’m glad you didn’t decide to follow in his footsteps.”

  “Different experiences made up our lives. Besides, my job is more challenging.” And that was the most important thing to Ethan. She thought it probably always would be.

  “Yes, it is.” She’d known trained assassins.

  It was a whole different world, but finding a way to kill someone was often easier than finding a way to put them behind bars for a very long time.

  “And I like saving the world from the bad guys.”

  “So does my dad. It’s one of the things I admire most about him.”

  “Even though it took him away from you?”

  “Yes. I may not want the same for my own children—if I have any—but I can really appreciate what a true hero he and men like him are. Like you.”

  “You think I’m a hero?”

  “Yes.”

  “But lousy husband material.” Like that really mattered to him.

  “Don’t sweat it. So was Superman.”

  “Spiderman got married.”

  “And look at what happened to Mary Jane. She was constantly getting kidnapped by evil villains. She was also smart enough not to have kids.”

  Ethan was shaking his head at her. “You would have gotten along well with my uncle. He never married. He refused to put any family at risk. Ever. He didn’t even marry Queenie, though by the time they met, he was living as a senior citizen in retirement.”

  “His past came back to haunt him, though didn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, he made the right choice.”

  “You really don’t think I should ever marry?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But it’s what you think.”

  It wasn’t. Well, not exactly. And what she thought wasn’t important anyway. “It’s not my place to judge you, or anyone else, for your choices. What I think doesn’t matter anyway, does it? We’re faking a relationship for the sake of a case, not getting involved on a deeply emotional level.”

  “I told you…I don’t just want you for the sake of the case.”

  “But you never would have pursued the desire you feel for me if not for the case.”

  “That’s not true. The timing is affected by the case, but not the eventual outcome. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the need to strip your clothes off.”

  She laughed. “You have such a way with words.”

  “I’ve told you…at heart, I’m just a Texas boy raised on a cattle ranch.”

  “One of the richest ranches in the state.”

  “You do some background research on me, Sunshine?”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t read my personnel file and grilled Whit.”

  “Guilty on both counts. I wasn’t complaining about your initiative, if anything, I’m impressed. What else did you learn that I haven’t told you?”

  “You dated a lot in both high school and college, but you didn’t have a steady girlfriend for longer than a couple of months. Ever. You go home for Christmas and Easter, even when you’re on a case. You call your parents and your sister on their birthdays, no matter where you are in the world. You don’t have pets, but you had a dog growing up and you both got into enough mischief for ten boys and their crazy hounds. You learned to shoot before you started school and you can handle any gun made today, but your weapon of choice is a Beretta PX4 Storm. Which, along with your favorite designers and Extreme Sports destinations, goes to show that you have a definite preference for things Italian. You love your home state so much, you’ve bought land there to build on. Though you’ll probably be an old man before you get around to doing it.”

  “You have learned a lot, but you’re wrong. I plan to build in the next few years.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You’re a skeptical woman.”

  “And a dreamer…but I don’t think I’m the only one.”

  “We all need our dreams. I just believe you should spend more time living them than thinking about them.”

  “No one would ever accuse you of not living by that maxim.”

  “I am also not shy.”

  “I’ve known that since the first day I met you.”

  “Are you going to gift me with your body tonight, baby? Or are you going to keep me waiting?”

  “I still haven’t looked through your apartment.”

  “Putting off the decision won’t make it go away.”

  “I know.”

  “Where do you want to start?”

  “In here. You did a fantastic job with dinner. I want to see if you’re a once-in-a-while cook, or a regular.”

  “I could just tell you.”

  “I could have told you about my lingerie, but you insisted on seeing it.”

  “You wouldn’t have told me about it…or the hot-pink handcuffs.”

  “I might have.”

  “Riiiiight…” He drawled the word out until it was practically a paragraph.

  “Believe what you like, but I’m starting in your kitchen.”

  His cupboards were neat and orderly, which she would have expected from him. But fully stocked as well. His spices were obviously used frequently and his freezer had everything necessary to pull together a complete meal. He might not be home often, but when he was, he cooked.

  “Did your mother teach you to cook?”

  He leaned against the counter by the sink, his long legs crossed at the ankle. “Her and our housekeeper. Consuela was a hard taskmaster. She expected me to know how to fend for myself and I learned.”

  “I took cooking classes. After I left home. I started with the typical Cordon Bleu stuff, but then decided I wanted to learn basic cooking, too, and took a home economics course at the nearby community college.”

  “While you were going to college?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me guess. Your university was too high brow to offer that sort of thing.”

  “Apparently.”

  “Do you like to cook?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes I make myself do it because I like the normalcy of eating in my own home from my own preparations. It makes me feel like I’m part of a family, even though technically…I’m not.”

  Soon, she moved into the formal dining room. There wasn’t much in there to reveal who he was, so she moved onto the spare room. It had a bed for guests, but the closet and shelves were dominated by his extreme sports gear. She spent as much time as possible in every room, digging even more minutely than Ethan had in her apartment.

  “Avoiding something, Sunshine?” Ethan asked as he leaned over her to whisper the question in her ear.

  She was kneeling on the floor, perusing the titles on the bottom shelf of his bookcase.

  It didn’t startle her to hear his voice so close. How could it? She’d developed some sort of sixth sense where he was concerned. She was supremely aware of his presence and knew when he came near without having to see, or even hear, him.

  “I’m trying to be thorough.” The fact that they had not yet made it to the master bedroom might not be a coincidence, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “You’re the one who said this particular endeavor was so necessary.”

  Strong, masculine fingers brushed her nape under the fall of her long hair. “Tell me what you’ve learned so far.”

  “I already knew you were into
extreme sports and I’ve seen more evidence of that. But I didn’t know you competed in the X-Games.” And he’d placed in two events. She’d shuddered thinking the risks he took to make that possible.

  “Is that all?”

  “No. You’re fascinated by history.” He had several books on the subject, but he also had some DVDs and subscribed to a magazine that frequently had articles on archeological digs. “You don’t watch a lot of television, but you do like to see movies in the theater.” She’d seen some stubs in the kitchen drawer. “You don’t make a habit of bringing women home to your apartment.” He had no extra toiletries on hand in the bathroom. “But I’m guessing various family members have come to stay more than once because the linens for the spare room smell fresh and you keep a full complement of them as well as the extra pillows necessary on hand.”

  His apartment was bigger than hers, but storage space was always a premium and he had dedicated some of his to being ready for out of town guests.

  “I’m impressed.” The whole time they’d been talking, his hand had been gently massaging her nape.

  It felt good. Too good. She fought the urge to lean back into his touch. “We fly out early tomorrow afternoon for PDX.”

  “I know. We’ll drive to the coast early the next morning, before the interview.”

  “Maude told me you wanted us to stay in a hotel in Portland, but wouldn’t it make more sense for us to stay in a motel nearer Prescott’s home?”

  “I don’t like the feel of that. He’s too in control in his own environment. We can’t be sure he doesn’t have flunkies at a local motel.”

  “What difference does it make? We’re going in under cover.”

  “I always stack the deck in my favor.” And he always won.

  She wouldn’t argue with success like that. “You’re the boss.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. I was talking about the case.”

  “So was I.” But the hand on her nape felt anything but businesslike. “It pleases me to know that you don’t question the chain of authority on this assignment.”

  “You’re the agent in charge, not to mention the only agent with any experience, but I’m not an idiot.” She didn’t want him thinking she was going into this as some sort of brainless robot.

  “I know that. I won’t treat you like one either.”

  “No dictating without explaining yourself?”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  But he wasn’t making any promises. That didn’t surprise her. She’d have been more shocked if he had. The man was a natural leader and while he might respect her enough to explain himself and even sometimes seek her opinion, she wasn’t naïve enough to believe it would be that way in every instance. Which was fine with her…for the most part.

  She was smart enough to know the difference between a situation when she needed to assert autonomy and one in which she should follow orders blindly. Though she wasn’t sure how good she was going to be at that particular endeavor. Blind obedience wasn’t something she had a lot of experience with, but she was willing to try. In a limited capacity.

  “You ready to move onto my bedroom, baby?”

  The air around them shimmered with tension that had nothing to do with the case. Or at least not directly. The master bedroom was the final room she needed to see. It was also the room where he slept. She found that thought unbearably evocative and she knew he did, too.

  “Yes.”

  He stood, his hand withdrawing from her neck. “All right then.”

  Cupping her elbows, he lifted her to her feet and her backside brushed against his thighs and a titillating bulge on the way up. He did not move away when she was fully upright, but pulled her close, his harsh breathing further evidence that their closeness had not left him unaffected.

  “This is damn hard, baby.”

  “I can feel that it is.”

  He laughed, the sound strained. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but it’ll do.”

  “Yes, I think it will,” she mimicked his drawl.

  He growled, one hand slipping from her elbow to rub across her tummy. She’d never considered her stomach an erogenous zone, but his touch was sending messages all over her body and they were very explicit. “Be careful, Sunshine. You’re playing with fire and I’ve a mind to burn you from the inside out.”

  He was patently ready to do so—both physically and mentally—but she’d discovered something about halfway through her exploration of his home. She was enjoying stretching this game out. She’d never been so aroused, nor had she ever felt such a deep connection to her own feminine sensuality.

  She stepped away from him with deliberate movements. “Show me your bedroom.”

  “I’d rather show you my hard-on.”

  “Later.”

  His hand clamped onto her shoulder, his expression intense. “No more teasing. Do you mean that? You can only push a man so far, Beth.”

  “But you’ve got more control than most, don’t you?”

  His eyes darkened with anger-laced desire that turned her excitement up another notch. “I have a feeling we’re both going to find out just how far that control reaches.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  “Let’s get this over with,” he growled and nudged her toward the bedroom.

  She laughed, the sound resonating through her and increasing her sense of female power. She liked this feeling. She liked it a lot. She wished she had her pink handcuffs with her, but she was willing to improvise.

  His bed was huge. That was her first thought as she crossed the threshold, but her second was that this was where he had been last night during their hot phone call. On that bed. It had to be custom-made because she’d never seen one as big. A huge pair of horns graced the top of the thick headboard, a pair of black handcuffs hanging from the right horn and a black satin sleep mask hung from the left.

  Everything inside her clenched at the sight and she had to remind herself to breathe.

  Licking suddenly dry lips, she scanned the rest of the monster bed. A dark brown utrasuede duvet covered it and there was a massive pile of pillows ranging in color from dark chocolate to a golden tan stacked against the mahogany headboard.

  A single, very solid-looking nightstand stood to the left of the bed and a saddle hung on the wall above it along with a rope. Other than that, there was no additional furniture or decoration in the room.

  “What’s the saddle for?” she asked.

  “I rode it when I won the statewide teen bucking bronc competition.”

  “The rope?” she practically squeaked.

  The man rode wild horses? Of course he did.

  “Bullriding.”

  “You won?”

  “Yep. I’m an expert rider.”

  “How good are you at being ridden?”

  “You know the saying, save a horse…ride a cowboy.”

  “But you aren’t a cowboy.”

  “Once a cowboy, always a cowboy.”

  “So, why did they nickname you Stud instead of Cowboy?”

  “Do you really need me to answer that?”

  No, she sure didn’t. “So, extreme sports has been a way of life for you since you were a kid?”

  “You could say that. My daddy considered bronc and bull riding part of my education.”

  “My dad made me take tae kwon do until I went away to college.”

  “That wasn’t in your file.”

  “It was precollege, therefore pre-TGP.”

  “Your dad didn’t mention it either.”

  “Probably because he considered it a washout. It did not spark some deep-seated desire inside me to pursue law enforcement as a way of life.”

  “What color was your belt when you stopped taking the classes?”

  “Purple. It’s black now,” she admitted. That was probably a piece of information he should know going into a case together. “Please don’t mention that fact to my dad.”
>
  “No problem, but why?”

  “Why do I have a black belt, or why don’t I want you to tell my dad?”

  “Both.”

  “I started taking the classes again, for exercise, my sophomore year in college. I missed them, but not the pressure from Dad about what a natural I was and how I was wasting my life on finance. He was severely disappointed his only offspring wasn’t pursuing criminal justice, or something equally useful. Mom felt the same…. She wanted me to get a degree in political science and follow it up with a law degree. I disappointed them both.”

  She shrugged, as if that didn’t bother her. And for the most part, it didn’t. “I’ve kept up with the tae kwon do ever since though. I teach classes occasionally in my dojo, but I’ve only entered the competitions necessary to earn my next belt. Once I got the black, I stopped competing completely.”

  She waited for him to make another comment about how she chose to observe rather than experience life, but none was forthcoming.

  “I am a grand master in Kajukenbo.”

  “I know. You can kill with your bare hands.”

  “That’s part of agent training.”

  “Not basic.”

  “No, not basic.” He turned and indicated a door on the other side of his bed. “I keep my clothes in the closet, but there’s no sexy underwear for you to look through.”

  “You were commando last night.”

  “It’s my preference.”

  “I find that very sexy, but then I’m sure a lot of women do.”

  “I’m not interested in any other woman’s reaction right now. I’m glad it turns you on, though.”

  Everything about him excited her. “You have a pair of handcuffs on the horns on your bed.”

  His smile was gentle, but his eyes burned with desire. “I wondered if you were going to pretend you didn’t notice.”

  “Are they always there?”

  “No. I bought them and the blindfold on the way home from work tonight.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was hoping you’d want to use them.”

  Chapter 10

  Her knees almost buckled and she grabbed the door frame for balance. The time for teasing was over…at least about whether or not they were going to make love tonight. Her fears had not abated, but she was not letting them hold her back. Not tonight…hopefully, never again. “I want to.”