Private Maneuvers: Hot Zone Book 3
Page 6
Marisa’s lips parted, but at first nothing came out. “Wow. Well, that’s not something I expected to hear. But I’m…it’s nice that you’re not pushing me. I don’t know if I’m ready for anything, Jake. Alec’s been dead three years, but there’re other things you don’t know.”
He nodded. “No pressure. I’ve never had to beg a woman for her kisses before, and maybe you’ll drive me so nuts I’ll resort to begging.”
Seated so near, she could smell his delicious scent enveloping her as she was pulled to his magnetism by something she couldn’t resist. Marisa sucked in a deep breath as he slid out of the booth, aware she’d come within inches of just leaning over and kissing him despite all her reservations.
“I’ll get the lights,” he said.
“Thanks.”
She headed upstairs, her pulse continuing an erratic flutter. God, she needed to get a grip on this overwhelming attraction that built every minute. She arrived at the office door and realized her uncle hadn’t locked it when he left. She withdrew the keys from her pocket to finish the job when the phone jangled.
Marisa about came out of her skin. “Crap!”
Her heart banged against her ribs as she flipped on the lights. Who would call the office number at this time of night?
“Hello?” she asked into the phone. Silence. “Hello?”
She knew someone was on the other end of the line. Jake stopped at the office door when he saw her.
“You’re going to die,” a voice whispered through the receiver.
Chapter Five
Jake saw Marisa’s eyes widen as she listened to whoever spoke on the other end of the phone. Her eyes flashed with fear. Son-of-a-bitch.
Concerned, he stepped into the office. When she set the phone down in the cradle and cursed softly, he headed toward her. “What’s wrong?”
“Another prank call.” Her voice trembled, and she shoved one hand through her glossy hair. A strand fell over one eye and gave her a sexy, seductive look he knew was unconscious. She took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes, then put the glasses back on. “I got one earlier tonight before I came down to the tavern.”
“What did they say?” he asked.
“I should have hung up immediately when they didn’t answer me right away.”
He leaned on her uncle’s desk and looked her straight in the eye. “Marisa, come on. Tell me.”
Deep worry etched her beautiful eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe away every worry she possessed. He knew such a wish was impossible, but it didn’t keep him from wanting it.
Her full, red lips parted, and she hugged her arms around her body. “He said, ‘You’re going to die.’ Essentially the same thing he said earlier tonight.”
Disgusted, he came around the side of the desk and clasped her shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re all right.”
She shivered under his touch, and he rubbed her shoulders. Vulnerability reflected in her eyes. “I’m not sure about that.”
“You’re safe in this building with me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
He meant it down in the core of his being and impulsively drew her into his embrace. To his surprise, she nestled into his chest. Her arms went around his waist and held tight. He pressed his lips to her forehead, then kissed the top of her head. He inhaled her fantastic scent. He didn’t know a damn thing about flowers, but he thought he smelled roses. Sweet, womanly roses. And God, the way her curves felt. His cock didn’t care that he gave comfort—primal instincts roared inside him. He wanted her in his bed where he could hold her close and protect her.
She lifted her head and gazed up at him. “This is nuts. I’m…you’re…”
“Holding you?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“Well, no. I just didn’t expect it.” Her eyes widened, and his gaze dropped to those parted, undoubtedly warm lips he wanted to plunder and take and seduce.
“Do you feel better now that I’m holding you?”
A smile flirted with her lips. “Yes.”
“Then it’s all good.”
He drew her tighter to his chest and savored the moment. Her breasts pressed as warm, soft globes and burned into his chest. Combined with her feminine scent and enticing curves, he was a fuckin’ goner. Shit, his cock hardened like granite at the silky smoothness of her skin as he caressed her arm. His fingers slipped to the back of her neck and he kneaded her muscles. Primal forces he understood burgeoned and grew inside him until he couldn’t deny them. He’d be damned if any man came between them and tried to hurt her.
He knew right then that if she was in danger he’d do anything.
Anything to keep her safe.
“You’re safe.” He caressed her back. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
As he said the words, he noted that he’d never spoken this way to a woman before, with total conviction that he would step in front of a bullet for her. Shocked down to the core, he stared at her with a searching disbelief that scared him. Sure, he’d wanted his wife safe, but at no time had he voiced it to her. Had he ever felt this way about the woman who’d left him a Dear John letter?
Ah, Jesus. What the hell am I thinking?
Exactly what I said I wanted from the time I first saw her. Thinking about getting her into bed. No doubt about it. His mind formulated about seven hundred ways he wanted to fuck her. He knew she’d be shocked down to her pretty painted toes if she knew how much he wanted her and which ways he wanted her.
If only I could be with her one night, that would take away the desire. She’d stop being a challenge, a mystery that begged understanding. But having her in his bed once wouldn’t remove his need to keep her safe. He knew that without a doubt.
Jake eased her from his arms. “Feeling better?”
Marisa’s cheeks went rosy, her eyes doubtful and filled with embarrassment. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t ever do things like that.”
Puzzled, he frowned. “What things?”
She shrugged. “Throw myself into men’s arms and play the little helpless maiden.” She winced. “I always hated spooky movies or adventure movies from the thirties and up through the fifties and sixties because half the time the women were useless and screamed a lot.”
Understanding made him grin. “It’s okay. You aren’t screaming and you aren’t helpless.” He winked and flexed one biceps. “But shucks, ma’am,” he drawled, “it makes a poor country man like me feel big and strong.” He cleared his throat. “It’s good for my ego.”
She snorted softly. “Jake, you are so full of it. You’re a big bad dude with muscles out to here. Like you need any reassurance about your masculinity.”
Before she could run too far away, he followed, reached out and circled her small biceps with his hand. “Wait. There are a few things that I need to know you’ll do.”
Her mouth popped open. “What?”
“I’m right next door and you have my cell number. If you ever for any reason feel unsafe, you can call. Don’t hesitate.”
Instead of pulling away from his grip, she moved in closer to him. “Why are you this way around me? I mean, you’re not only concerned and nice, you’re almost acting like my personal bodyguard. But honestly, I don’t need looking after. If my uncle put you up to this, I’m letting you off the hook.”
“Yeah, your uncle wants me to watch out for you. But even if he didn’t, if he hadn’t said a thing, I’d still have this feeling right here—” he tapped the middle of his chest with his fist, “—that I can’t do anything else. I don’t want to do anything else. Good night.”
He turned and went to the door, and then he headed toward his apartment, leaving her with a craving so profound she ached with it.
***
“Jake’s the same way?” Freddie asked as she placed the delicate teacup into the saucer she held. “Incredible.”
Marisa tossed her friend a wry smile as she joined her at the tavern table near th
e bar late in the afternoon. They hadn’t opened yet after the break between lunch and dinner.
“Apparently. Two peas in a pod, as they say. I saw the way Keith was with you. He was hovering while we were in Mexico.”
Freddie returned her smile and placed her teacup and saucer onto the table in front of her. “Keith hovered because he was scared. There’s a part of him that runs on fear. Jake was doing the same thing with you while we were in Mexico. He watched you like a hawk and everyone noticed it.”
Marisa’s face flamed. “God, really?”
“You didn’t notice?”
“I did, but…”
“You didn’t want to admit to yourself that he was attracted to you…is attracted to you. Why do you suppose that?”
Marisa wanted to hide and deny the truth, but now that she’d been around him for a while, she couldn’t deny either her attraction or his. “I’m not sure. Maybe because any relationship with him is complicated.”
“How?”
Marisa felt old memories surface with a wicked burn. “I’d rather not say.”
Freddie looked contrite, her eyes filled with the remorse of someone who’d committed a large transgression. “I’m so sorry. I was being too nosy.”
Marisa leaned forward, not wanting her newfound friendship to splinter into misunderstanding. “No, it’s all right. Let’s just…I’d like to leave it as is right now, that’s all. It’s a long and complicated story. But explain one thing to me. You said Keith was scared. About what?”
Freddie pushed back a lock of her hair, her smile broad and genuine. “It’s simple, really. Keith was born to protect others. It’s a part of his personality or he wouldn’t be in the career he’s in.” She took a sip of her tea. “More than anything though, it’s because he loves me.”
Marisa stared into her tea and watched the steam rise from the dark liquid. Finally she turned her attention back to Freddie, doubt firmly in place. “That’s good for you, but Jake and I haven’t known each other that long. There’s no reason for him to be that attached to me.”
Freddie finished off the last of her tea and pushed the cup and saucer to the side. “I didn’t know Keith that long before I fell for him.”
Marisa shook her head, the idea that Jake could have feelings for her setting off a firestorm of longing inside her. The idea felt wonderful. Glowing inside her with a power she’d rather not acknowledge. “It’s not like that between Jake and me.”
Freddie tipped her head to the side, then propped her chin on her hand and her elbow on the table. “What is it then? It seems like you find him interesting and attractive.”
Marisa slipped her glasses off her nose and stared at the dirty lenses in disgust. She left the table and cruised across the room until she found tissues behind the well-stocked bar. She wandered back to the table and cleaned the glasses as she went.
“Sure, he’s attractive.” Marisa sat down at the table once more. “Sure, he’s even…”
Freddie’s wide grin was unrepentant. “Sexy?”
Marisa plopped her glasses back on her face and brought the world into focus. “Freddie,” she said in mock indignation. “I thought you were head-over-heels, rampantly out of your mind over Captain Keith Wallace. What are you doing noticing another man?”
Freddie waggled her eyebrows. “Oh come on. Just because I’m engaged doesn’t mean I’m dead. I still know a sexy man when I see one. Jake is a Grade A, number one hottie.”
“That, my friend, is a cliché.”
“And you don’t like Jake Sullivan being reduced to a cliché. How would you describe him?”
Marisa balked. “How the hell did I get into this conversation?”
Freddie sat back, staring at her like a clinical psychologist equipped to ferret out her most serious neurosis. “I called to see how you were doing, you invited me here, and here I am. Then you started talking about how overprotective Jake is and what you should do about it.”
Marisa pointed at Freddie. “Yep. That’s it. That was the reason.”
“So, give it up. What do you personally think of Jake?”
Marisa relented. “I think Jake is powerful. Dangerous. Bristling with action and testosterone. As if he’s spring-loaded for action.”
Freddie chuckled. “Hey, it sounds like you’re describing Keith.”
The tavern phone rang, and Marisa ran behind the bar to grab it.
Jake walked in just then, all smiles. “Who is bristling with testosterone? Captain Wallace?”
Marisa said into her phone, “Hello?”
“You’re going to die bitch. Real soon. I guarantee it,” a soft, though determined voice whispered into the phone.
Anger sliced straight through Marisa like a serrated knife. She clicked off her phone without responding. “Damn.” Shaking, she whispered again, “Damn.”
Jake came forward, his brow creased with worry. “What’s wrong?”
She glanced at Jake and Freddie. “A prank call. Just like the others.”
“Oh, no,” Freddie said. “Not another call.”
“What did they say?” Jake asked, his hands on his hips and eyes blazing down into hers.
She relayed what she’d heard. She stood, too edgy now to relax into the friendly atmosphere she’d had with Freddie but a minute ago. Besides, how could she find repose when Jake prowled the room, anger and irritation in every line of his face?
He stopped pacing and stood in front of her, hands on hips, every line of his body determined and strong. “That’s it. You need protection twenty-four seven, and I’m going to provide it.”
Marisa glared. “I don’t think so. This isn’t negotiable.”
Freddie grimaced, her concern more than evident. She stood and picked up her purse. “Is there anything I can do?”
Marisa tried a smile, but it fell, broken and weak. “Just tell me the creep who’s calling is a teenager with nothing better to do on their summer vacation.”
Freddie pressed Marisa’s arm in sympathy. “It’ll be okay, but I’d call the police if I was you.”
Marisa pushed her hands into her hair and closed her eyes. “They won’t be able to do anything, and you know it.”
“They can get the phone company to monitor the line,” Freddie said.
Marisa nodded. “Okay. I’ll call them.” She turned a firm look on Jake. “That make you happy?”
“No. But it’ll do for now,” he said.
“I’ll let you two work this out,” Freddie said. “But you guys call me if you need anything.”
Freddie left the building after saying goodbye.
“What?” Marisa asked Jake. “Why are you so angry looking?”
He stalked over to her. “Because I am angry as hell that someone is doing this to you.”
She shivered again, then shook her head in total denial. “I won’t let this get to me. I have things I need to do today.”
“Are you leaving the tavern?”
“No. Uncle Dexter had some business in town and I was going to finish work on his books.”
“After you call the police?”
She nodded. “I’ll call them right now.”
As she suspected, other than giving the telephone company permission to tap into the tavern phone line and her personal cell phone number, the police couldn’t help.
After she hung up from the phone call, she gave Jake a long look filled with defiance. “I’ll have to call my uncle and ask him what he wants to do.”
Jake turned away from the window he’d stared out of for the last several moments. “Let’s do it, then.”
Uncle Dexter, predictably, came almost as unglued as Jake had about the calls. “When it was just the tavern phone you weren’t so concerned,” she said over the phone.
“Of course not,” Uncle Dexter said. “But the creep has your number. This is getting way too personal. Meet me down at the police station. We’re getting this taken care of now.”
When she got off the phone and explained that
her uncle was on board with the idea, Jake also said something predictable. “I’m going with you to the station.”
She headed across the tavern, intent on retrieving her purse upstairs. “Is that necessary?”
He grunted and followed her. “You have to ask?”
She groaned. “Jake, I appreciate your concern but don’t you think you’re overreacting?”
“Nope.” He stopped in the middle of the floor.
Rather than continue, she stopped and eyed him with curiosity. “You honestly think the person on the other end of the line is serious about killing me?”
Jake planted his hands on his hips. “I hope the hell not. Do you have a weapon?”
“You mean like a gun?”
“Yeah.”
“No. I don’t even like guns. Never shot one.”
“Do you have self-defense training?”
She could see where his logic was heading and didn’t like the answers she had to give. “No.”
“Then if some freak out there really plans to do you harm, would you rather rely on yourself in this situation only, or would you rather have me there to help if you need it?”
Herself? Untrained in combat, no weapon. Jake? Battle-hardened, highly physical, warrior. Okay, it was no contest.
But it hurt to say the words, and she had to force them past her throat. “You. I’d rather have you there to help.”
I’d rather have you. Oh, yeah. She’d rather have him in more ways than she wanted to admit, damn it.
His gaze filled with understanding. “Marissa, it’s not about losing your independence. And my protection doesn’t come with any strings. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She swallowed hard around an aching lump in her throat. “You can’t guarantee my safety.”
“Of course not.” He sighed and reached out, brushing his hand over her head in one gentle, quick caress. “Okay, let’s put it this way. If you don’t let me come with you, I’m going to go nuts, all right? I’m going to be eaten alive by worry. And you can be damned sure that if anyone tries anything, anything at all, I’m going to go through heaven and earth to keep you safe.”