“I never knew. He refused to talk about his past.” She quietly digested what he’d told her, then asked, “Where was his father?”
“According to Anthony, his father left before he was born, and he lost his mother to pneumonia just before his eighteenth birthday. From there, he worked odd jobs, then joined the Academy, which is where I met him. I don’t know his initial reasons for joining the Academy, but it was apparent from the beginning that he loved the danger and excitement of the job.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck before continuing. “About a year after we were on the force, Anthony started buying things he really couldn’t afford. When I questioned him, he’d never give me a straight answer. I really didn’t think his finances were any of my business, and just assumed he’d established a hell of a whole lot of credit. This went on for years, and when he didn’t declare bankruptcy, I thought maybe he’d made some good investments that had paid off, but I never knew for sure.” He slanted her a curious look. “Didn’t you ever wonder how he was able to afford that prime piece of real estate you live in? The boat, the cars?”
“Yes, I wondered.” They came across a cluster of smooth rocks, and Paige strolled in that direction. “When I asked about the purchases, he’d tell me he got a bonus or some other excuse I couldn’t argue with. Anthony was adamant about taking care of the bills, so I never really had a good handle on our finances. And I had my own trust fund that my grandmother left me, so I bought whatever I wanted, when I needed it. That’s how I was able to afford the Wild Rose.”
He smiled, a slight curving of his mouth. “I remember.” He also recalled how furious Anthony had been that Paige had openly defied him and bought the boutique-he’ d had no control over her decision since she’d used her own money, and that fact rankled. Their marriage had seemed strained before that incident, but had gotten progressively worse after she’d opened the boutique and devoted her time and effort there. Anthony hadn’t liked his wife working, yet he’d never given Paige any incentive to stay home.
But that was a different issue altogether, one that didn’t belong in their current conversation. Paige sat down on one of the rocks and gazed out at the blue stretch of ocean. He opted to stand.
“I don’t claim to be a psychiatrist, Paige,” he said, bringing her attention back to him. “But taking Anthony’s behavior into consideration, I’m guessing that his desolate childhood drove him toward greed. Money seemed to give him a warped sense of power and control, and judging by what we’ve discovered since his death, the need for prominence and wealth totally consumed his life.” He shrugged, wishing he knew the truth about what had driven Anthony to take the outrageous risks he had-risks that had destroyed his life and put his wife’s in jeopardy. ”That’s my theory, but we’ll never know for sure.”
“It certainly makes sense to me.” Bitterness crept into her tone. “It didn’t take me long to learn that Anthony thought of no one but himself.”
Giving into the urge to touch her, he reached out and stroked her soft cheek, wanting to kiss her and make up for everything she’d lacked in her marriage to Anthony. Comfort. Understanding. Love. But she was still uncertain and wary, and he respected that even if he didn’t like it. “I’m sorry you had to go through that”
“Yeah, me too.” Her voice was sad, and she gently pulled his hand away from her face, as if his caress stirred too many memories of last night and how much she’d liked him stroking her skin. Touching her certainly brought to mind vivid, sensual images for him.
She drew a deep breath and released it slowly, as if mentally distancing herself from him. “Like my dad always used to say, ‘You live, you learn, and move on a wiser person.”’ She smiled, forcing a cheerful attitude that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
ONCE THE HOUSE was cleared of evidence and officials, Paige accompanied Josh to his condo to pick up clothes and personal items for him to keep at her place. On the way back, they grabbed dinner from a Chinese take-out and ate chicken chow mein and shrimp fried rice while watching a Sunday evening sitcom on TV. Both of them refrained from discussing the case, but it wasn’t far from either one of their minds.
Emotionally exhausted from the day’s events, Paige didn’t bother to smother a huge yawn. “I think it’s time for bed,” she said to Josh, who sat on the couch a few feet away from her.
“I agree.” He sounded just as tired, though he appeared wide-awake and alert. Standing, he picked up the remote, clicked off the TV, and started toward the foyer. “You go on and change, and I’ll make sure everything is locked up.”
Grateful for the security of Josh’s presence, Paige went to her bedroom and hesitated just inside the doorway. The room that had become a haven for her since Anthony’s death, a place to unwind and pamper herself, had changed since that morning-not in appearance, but in feel. The very air around her seemed tainted by a man’s ruthless quest for wealth. As she stood there and considered that the house and its rich, luxurious contents most likely had been purchased with stolen money, an ominous cast settled over the entire dwelling.
A shiver chased down her spine, cold and unwelcome. Forcing those unpleasant thoughts from her head and replacing them with firm resolve, she headed into the bathroom, pinned up her hair, and took a long, hot shower. Tomorrow, she’d begin the proceedings that would rid her of the disturbing memories this house evoked. Tomorrow, she’d make the first step toward her future, and a new life away from Miami.
Twenty minutes later she exited the bathroom wearing her favorite lavender chemise, ready to crawl in between soft, cool sheets and forget the past twenty-four hours in lieu of a good, solid eight hours of much-needed sleep.
She came to a jarring stop in the middle of the room.
Josh stood at the opposite side of her four-poster bed, in the process of stripping off his clothes. His shirt was gone, and her insidious pulse raced at the sight of his well-defined chest, his lean belly and narrow hips-hot, naked skin she’d stroked with her hands and tasted with her lips the night before. Long fingers worked at the belt buckle at his waist, his movements slow and unhurried, as if he belonged in her room, in her bed, under her skin…
And for a timeless moment the intimate scene seemed so normal, so perfectly right…until her gaze touched on the weapon resting on the nightstand next to him, bringing everything back into perspective…for all of five seconds.
He glanced up, his warm, golden-brown gaze leisurely sliding down the length of her, a sensual visual caress that stole the breath from her lungs. There was nothing suggestive, revealing, or provocative about the nightgown she wore, nothing to inspire the primitive hunger and raw desire reflected in his expression, yet she felt undeniably sexy, incredibly voluptuous, and very aware of herself as a woman. The gauzy material should have been cool against her skin, yet the fabric seemed to singe the tips of her breasts as it brushed across her nipples. The crests peaked, tightened, and ached for the slow, wet attention he’d given them last night with his mouth. Her heart hammered, her stomach tumbled, and the insides of her thighs tingled in an arousing way.
She’d never considered herself an overtly sexual creature. She’d only been with two men before Anthony, and none of them, not even her own husband, had ever come close to making her unravel and melt with a mere look. None had ever made her want to do the shameless, erotic things she wanted to do with the man in front of her.
With Josh, the awareness was all the more tempting and seductive because she’d experienced just how thrilling making love with him could be-how satisfying, emotionally and physically. That intrinsic connection was like touching a live wire, and just as dangerous to her heart.
He lifted his gaze, meeting hers, a wicked, unapologetic gleam in his eyes. He’d purposely made her burn, she realized. Deliberately seduced her without touching her at all. That effortless, intimate influence he held over her was unnerving; his presumptuousness in being in her bedroom annoyed her.
Finally,
she found her voice. “What are you doing in here?”
“I thought that was fairly obvious.” His fingers unsnapped his jeans, and his mouth quirked in a half smile that was both mischievous and challenging. “I’m getting ready for bed.”
The rasp of his jeans’ zipper filled the room, and her faithless body swelled in anticipation. “In here? With me?” She sounded prim and haughty, but didn’t care.
Neither did he. The humor glimmering to life in his eyes expressed his disregard. “Yes, in here. With you.”
She moved toward the bed, trying to maintain a semblance of calm when she was feeling entirely too reckless. She clearly remembered what had happened in this bed with him in the darkest hours of the night, how she’d woken to feel the heat of his body along the back of hers as he claimed her in such a primitive way.
She couldn’t risk letting that happen again, and refused to make their situation any more complicated than it already was. “What’s wrong with the couch in the living room?”
“Too far away if something should happen during the night.” As if his statement ended the discussion, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his jeans and pushed the denim over his hips and down his long, muscular legs. Just like that, he shucked his pants. Just like that, he stood before her in nothing more than a pair of sexy, white briefs that hugged impressive male anatomy in a state of semiarousal.
She jerked her gaze up, preferring the relatively safe territory of his bare chest. “Letting you stay here and pretend to be my lover to protect me is one thing, but sleeping in the same bed wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Tonight, it’s strictly business.” He tossed the frilly pillows aside and pulled down the covers. “And it’s not as though we haven’t slept in the same bed before.”
A flood of warmth suffused her cheeks at his blatant reference to last night, but she refused to give in. She jutted her chin stubbornly. “Last night was… different.”
Irritation touched his features, and for a moment she thought he was going to argue and tell her that last night wasn’t any different than tonight, that the desire and need was still shimmering between them.
But he didn’t say any of what they both already knew. Giving his head a shake, he ignored her feeble protests and slid in between the sheets and covers. “C’mon to bed, Paige,” he said, giving the pillow beside him a light pat. “I’m dead tired after today, and I swear I don’t have a lascivious thought in my head.”
His mouth recited the lie easily, but his gaze was far more honest. Those rich brown eyes said he wanted her, but they also reassured her that he’d respect her wishes and wouldn’t touch her except to protect her. Believing him, and trusting him, she didn’t issue any further objection.
She set her alarm for 6:00 a.m., turned off the lights and crawled into bed. As she lay there in the darkness listening to the odd night sounds from outside, she admitted to herself that she was glad he’d insisted on staying in the bedroom with her. Not only did she not want to be alone, but he made her feel safe and secure.
Within ten minutes Josh was asleep, his breathing deep and even. She spent what seemed like hours tossing and turning. Every time she closed her eyes or started to drift off, images of last night stole into her mind, making her ache, making her restless and aroused. And despite every valid reason not to, she wanted to feel Josh inside her again, filling her, giving her everything her body and soul hungered for.
He kept his promise and stayed on his side of the bed. Didn’t so much as allow an arm or leg to cross the halfway mark. She should have been glad, but resented his willpower when it appeared she had none.
Gritting her teeth, she rolled to her side, facing the gorgeous man sleeping so peacefully beside her. A man who’d given her so much and had asked for so little in return. A man she’d fallen in love with, but who was all wrong for her for so many different reasons.
She reached out to touch his chest. Halfway there she urled her hand into a fist and pulled it back, knowing he’d only be inviting trouble and complications she didn’t need if she allowed her emotions to interfere with the important decisions she’d made.
A lump formed in her throat, followed by stinging ears, which she valiantly tried to blink back. God, she was so confused and torn about her feelings for Josh-his almost desperate need she had for him-and about her decision to leave him as soon as circumstances all- owed.
It couldn’t be any other way. She refused to let her heart overrule her head this time, refused to give herself to another man who lived on the edge of danger and isked his life on a daily basis. She swallowed thickly nd valiantly tried not to think of the possibility of be- ing pregnant with Josh’s child, or how that would irrevocably change the plans she’d set for her future.
Somewhere between midnight and the edge of dawn he finally slipped into a deep, exhausted sleep-but her dreams were of Josh, and the emptiness of living without him.
PAIGE GLANCED out the passenger window of her Volvo as Josh drove her to the Wild Rose the next morning. When she’d asked if she could drive herself while he followed in his Thunderbird, he’d told her that they’d be using her car until the case was over, since he didn’t want to chance someone tracing his license plate. She’d been unable to argue with his logic, and his vehicle was parked safely in his garage. He’d be escorting her to and from work, or anywhere else she requested. End of discussion.
As much as she appreciated Josh keeping her safe nd protected, she hated depending on him, and disliked the complete control he seemed to have over he life. It reminded her too much of Anthony’s dominating, manipulative ways.
She knew this predicament was different from he marriage, and temporary, but that didn’t make her do spise the situation, or her dependence on Josh, any less Her privacy was a thing of the past, and being under twenty-four-hour surveillance made it difficult to so out thoughts, feelings and decisions that were becoming increasingly more tangled and complex.
Paige nearly jumped out of her skin when Josh reached across the center console and rested a hand on her knee, just below the hem of her navy skirt. Damn. If his purpose was to get her attention, he certainly had.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” he commented his deep voice filling the interior of the vehicle with rich male tones, made more intimate by the close confines on the car. “Did you sleep okay?”
His thumb absently stroked the outside of her thigh and Paige’s nerves screamed in awareness. What one would have been construed as an innocent, comforting gesture now caused excitement to ripple through her. And the most disconcerting thing was, she liked the sensation and enjoyed his caresses. Now that she knew the kind of intense pleasure Josh was capable of giving her, her body seemed to crave his touch, and responded to it eagerly.
She dragged in a deep, steadying breath in an effort to rein in her provocative thoughts. “I slept wonderfully,” she lied, unwilling to share just how restless he night had been, or how flustered and aroused she was currently feeling, all from his touch. “I just have a lot of things on my mind.”
A lazy smile curved his mouth, but his expression reflected the warmth and care she’d always cherished with their friendship. “Such as?”
What I’m going to do about our relationship now that we’ve crossed that line and become lovers, and how incredibly difficult it’s going to be to keep from making love to you again. “Things I need to get done at the boutique today.”
He nodded, and finally lifted his hand from her leg as he drove through an intersection, allowing her to breathe easier. “I spoke with Reynolds early this morning, and he’s set up a female undercover officer to meet us at the Wild Rose. Her name is Liz Forster, and not only is she a dedicated cop, she comes at the expense of the department. Feel free to put her to work.”
She crossed a leg over the burning imprint left by his hand. The swish of silk on silk echoed in the vehicle, sounding incredibly sensual to her own ears. “I couldn’t possibly do that.”
“You need to treat her like a civilian, Paige.” He made a turn onto Harding Avenue, where her shop was located along Surfside’s main commercial drag. “She’s a decoy, there to protect you when I’m not around, but she needs to look like just another employee. That means you or your assistant should train her accordingly, so she blends in.” His firm tone brooked no argument.
“All right,” she agreed as he pulled her car into a vacant parking slot in front of the Wild Rose and cut the engine. The dress shop was located between a chic hair salon and a quaint coffeehouse, which gave her a nice overflow of tourists to supplement the local patrons who frequented her boutique. “I suppose I can keep her busy helping Pam rearrange the front window display.”
“Whatever you need, she’ll do, as long as you stick nearby.” He turned toward her, his expression granite hard. “If you leave the shop, for anything, she goes with you. Is that clear?”
Remembering his stern lecture yesterday on the beach, and the possible repercussions of venturing out alone, she tried not to let her resentment of the situation overrule common sense. “Crystal clear.”
“Good,” he said, satisfied with her acquiescence.
Grabbing her briefcase and slinging the long strap of her purse over her shoulder, she exited the car. Josh met her on the sidewalk, looking casually handsome in a pair of black jeans and a beige and black patterned knit shirt overlaid with a black leather bomber jacket-which concealed the gun secured in his shoulder holster. He didn’t look like a detective, but the gorgeous rebel who supposedly was her lover.
He eased into the role effortlessly. Sliding his hand into her free one, he wove their fingers intimately together. Paige’s pulse tripped all over itself at his brazen, possessive display, and she tugged her hand back, but to no avail.
“Relax, Paige,” he murmured, bestowing a dazzling, loverlike smile on her. “And act natural.”
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