Wanton

by Lori Foster

  “You can approve!”

  “—is if you’re wired so I can hear what’s going on.”

  Celia jumped to her feet to face him. Alec was back to his old, stubborn, autocratic self and she wouldn’t stand for it. “I thought we’d already decided that I’m going to do whatever I choose, Alec Sharpe! You don’t own me.”

  Propping his hands on his hips and acting totally unaffected by her ire, he said, “If I did, I’d have you on a leash.”

  She almost exploded with fury, and then somehow, some small niggling suspicion crept into her brain. Alec wanted her anger. He’d tried jumping her bones the minute he’d come in, which would have, in effect, put her in the place he wanted to keep her: as a mere bed partner, her importance defined by physical activities.

  But then she’d told him about Jacobs and his natural protective instincts kicked in. Alec felt a noble, if detached, responsibility for almost everyone, especially people smaller, older, or weaker than himself. But he seemed to take a personal interest in Celia. He always had, almost from day one. Why hadn’t she ever made serious note of that before?

  Because she’d always been too busy fighting off her own attraction for him.

  Now she no longer wanted to fight, and she was seeing things much more clearly. Watching him warily, she said, “You’re being a jerk, Alec.”

  “Because I don’t want to see you raped by that bastard?”

  “No.” She shook her head, shaken by his words despite her false bravado. “I accept your concern because I believe it’s genuine.”

  He smirked. “Gee, thanks.”

  “But it’s your attitude that needs work.” She narrowed her eyes and looked him over, unsure how far she should push. But this was important. She loved him, and even if he never loved her back, she wanted him to accept that love existed, and that he, especially, was a very worthy man to receive it. “Last night you weren’t so obnoxious. You were…understanding, when I first came in.”

  He laughed. “Last night you were all but falling apart. I don’t kick anyone when they’re down, especially not a lady I want to get intimate with.”

  Oh God. He was going for the jugular today. Feeling her resolve weaken, Celia lifted her chin. “I thought you were kind and considerate because you cared about me.”

  Alec stepped closer, his gaze predatory. “Oh, I do care, honey. But don’t give me that doe-eyed innocent look, like you think I should be pledging love everlasting just because we rocked the earth in bed.”

  Very quietly, she whispered, “I never thought that, Alec.”

  “Good. Because what we have together is too damn hot to start watering down with false expectations.”

  “Sex?”

  “Damn right. Sensational sex, from both our perspectives, and I’ve got your claw marks all over me to prove it.”

  She almost hit him. The air left her in a whoosh and she felt herself folding in, closing down. She couldn’t banter with him, not when he was intent on forcing an ugly void between them. Turning, she headed for the bathroom, wanting only an escape, but Alec wrapped one steely arm around her waist, drawing her up short. A physical battle would be beyond stupid; the man was hard as granite whereas she was still trying to develop a little muscle tone. She waited to see what he would do, but he merely held her, pulling her tight against his chest.

  She felt his indecision like a tangible thing, pulsing over her, and then his mouth touched her temple, her ear. “Where are you going, babe?”

  Celia held herself perfectly still, afraid she’d fall apart and start crying if she moved a single muscle. Not only would she refuse him the satisfaction of winning, her pride demanded she hold tough, that she prove herself capable of dealing with anything he dished out. “I need to shower and get ready.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Alec…” She squeezed her eyes shut. If he said one more hurtful thing to her now, she might not be able to forgive him.

  But he simply held her. “We have things to talk about, and I brought you something to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You’ll eat anyway.”

  Shoving out of his arms, she faced him again and said, “Get it through your thick head, Sharpe! You’re not my keeper.”

  Eyes glinting, he leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. She recognized that now as his arrogant stance, and she braced herself.

  “But I am.” The words were soft, satisfied. “Don’t you remember our little arrangement? I’d stay and help you save Hannah, and you’d give me…” he shrugged “…anything I want. Right now, I want you to stop running away from me.”

  Her hands fisted at his fickle attitude. “Then stop trying to drive me away. It’s not even necessary. Believe me, Alec, I already figured out where I stand. And I’m not so naive that I have illusions of a lasting love.” Bitterness, heartache, threatened to choke her, but she added, “Not with you.”

  That gave him pause. He pushed away from the wall and paced. Hands on hips, his head dropped forward, he stared at the floor for several moments in a pose of indecision and frustration. Celia could almost feel him thinking, an angry, fretful process, before he finally looked at her again. “Fair enough.” He searched her face silently, then shook his head. “Now sit. I really do need to talk to you.”

  Damned pigheaded man. “Alec, that was only marginally nicer than a dog’s command.”

  He smiled. “I’m sorry. Would you please sit down so I can instruct you on the finer points of a wire, since you’ll definitely be in possession of one before you go anywhere near Jacobs or his cronies again.”

  “Is there time?” She glanced at the clock. “I have to be there in just a few hours.”

  “Be where, exactly?” he asked, as she seated herself at the tiny, scarred table.

  Celia winced. “I gather it’s a studio of sorts. I’m supposed to do a…a photo shoot.”

  Alec closed his eyes, a sure indication that he didn’t exactly like what she’d just told him. “And you agreed to do this without even discussing it with me first?”

  “Oh, right. What was I supposed to do, Alec? Tell Jacobs’s friend, ‘Oh excuse me, please, but I have to ask my private eye pal if it’s okay?’ Get real.”

  “I’m not your damn pal, Celia.”

  “Don’t I know it!”

  He gave her a look that said she was pushing it, but kept his calm. “Okay, start over. Who is Jacobs’s friend, where are you going, and who will be there?”

  Well, shoot. This was going to be the tricky part. She hadn’t expected Alec to be in such a rotten mood when she told him. “Jacobs has this friend, Blair Giles, who’s supposedly a photographer, but Hannah told me while we were in the bathroom that he’s a really nasty sort. She said Jacobs uses him to weed out the girls. If anyone balks at working with Giles, Jacobs drops them as being too risky and too much trouble. So you see, I had to do this, Alec. If I hadn’t agreed, they’d have been on to me and I wouldn’t even have the chance to talk to Hannah again.”

  Alec leaned back and crossed his ankles. He was too rock steady for nervous movements, but his hands gripped the edge of the table, giving away his anxiety. “Sounds like you and little Hannah had quite a chat. If she wants to be saved, why didn’t she just agree to it then?”

  Celia measured her words carefully, unsure of how to convince him. “Yes, we did talk some. But she was too afraid to trust me beyond a few warnings.” Celia told him all about her close call with Jacobs and how he’d treated Hannah, how pale and afraid the girl had been afterward. “It was awful, Alec. When we got in the bathroom, she was too scared to listen to much I had to say, and definitely too afraid to linger long enough to give me a chance to convince her. All she wanted to do was warn me.”

  “About Jacobs?”

  Nodding, she said, “Yeah, and this Giles fellow. She told me the only way around him is to not act afraid. He…I guess he sort of likes it when he can scare a woman or make her nervous.”

  A
lec’s entire countenance tightened until he was suddenly on his feet, standing over Celia. “Don’t go.”

  Her heart swelled. He could pretend what was between them was only sexual, but the heat in his eyes now told a very different story. Like a battered child, he was wary of caring too much for anyone, shying away from tenderness—or love. She didn’t fool herself into thinking she could have his love, not when he guarded it so closely. But she still wanted to give him hers. Alec deserved that much, and more.

  Touching his jaw with a gentle hand, she said, “I’m not her, Alec.”

  He backed up, his gaze diamond hard, but also a bit panicked. “Besides being melodramatic, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Celia stood and walked to him until she could wrap her arms around his waist. He was warm and hard and touching him made her feel more alive than she’d thought possible. “I didn’t have a tragic childhood. I’m not naive or desperate. And I’m smart. I can take care of myself, Alec, and while I’m there, I’ll have you to help me. It’ll be okay.”

  For the longest time Alec was stiff, his arms hanging at his sides. She knew he was struggling, but in the end, he wrapped her close and rocked her in his arms. “I know you’re not dumb, Celia. Far from it. But you’re out of your element here.”

  “And that’s why you’re helping.” She leaned back and smiled at him. “For a price, as you so rudely reminded me.”

  “Celia…”

  “Which,” she added, interrupting him, “I’ll expect to have to pay as soon as I get home tonight.”

  His gaze softened and he looked down at her breasts in the clinging cotton. She jumped slightly when his warm palms slid to her barely clad fanny, cuddling her closer. “Is that right? Am I to understand that you’ll willingly be at my mercy?”

  “Very willingly,” she whispered.

  His gaze shot to her face, suddenly fierce, and very possessive. Celia shivered, and cleared her throat. Teasing Alec was like tugging on the tiger’s tail—exciting, but also a little nerve-wracking. “Where is this wire going to be?” she asked, quickly changing the subject and hoping to distract him. “I don’t have to hide it anyplace…risqué, do I?”

  He laughed, as she had known he would, but it was more a concession to her, an effort to lighten the mood, than in any real humor. “No, if we put it anyplace that muffled it too much, I wouldn’t be able to hear a damn thing.” Then he smacked her bottom. “Not to mention how uncomfortable it might be for you.”

  His wicked grin had her smiling too. “Well, thank goodness for that.”

  Alec released her. “It’s lucky for you I went shopping today, though I was thinking more about the night to come at the bar than anything going on this afternoon. I hated not being able to hear what Jacobs said to you, especially when you started dancing around him.”

  “He’d just asked me to pose.”

  “And of course you jumped to obey.”

  “Of course.” Then she added, “Actually I was afraid he’d ask me into the back room to do it or something, so instead I jumped the gun and did it right there, in front of everyone. It was horribly embarrassing.”

  “But you’re right, it was better than being alone with him.”

  She shrugged. “I thought so.”

  Alec shook his head. “Well, along with food, I picked up a small detecting device that no one will notice as long as you don’t advertise it. But I won’t even put it directly on you. That’s too risky. I was thinking maybe your purse, if you think you can keep it with you all the time.”

  “Of course.”

  Alec reached for a bag and dumped out the contents. Besides some things she didn’t recognize, he had a fresh box of condoms—which made her cheeks bloom with renewed color—and a very ordinary-looking pen. He held it out to her. “Here you go.”

  Celia blinked. “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Keep it close. It’s your bug.”

  “You’re kidding?” She touched the ballpoint tip and got a speck of ink on her finger. “It’s just a regular pen.”

  “No, it just looks like a regular pen, but it has a hidden transmitter. That little baby will pick up a whisper forty feet away and it transmits up to five hundred meters with respectable quality, which means I won’t have to be too damn close, but I sure as hell intend to be close enough to get you out of there if any trouble starts.”

  Alec took it from her when she started to inspect it too closely. “Let’s not break it, okay? They don’t come cheap.” He shook his head at her, then reached for her small bag. “If you clip it high on the inside like this, and leave your purse open, we shouldn’t have any problems.”

  She was really impressed. “Wherever did you find it?”

  He snorted. “In a town this size? There must be at least a hundred commercial outlets, though I got that one from an underground source.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Celia, I couldn’t drive down the block without picking up a couple dozen eavesdropping devices on a scanner. The world is not as pretty, or as secure, as you like to think.”

  She ignored his continued references to her naiveté. “So how do we know Jacobs doesn’t have a bug in here somewhere?”

  “Because no one’s been in here or I’d know about it. Believe it or not, I do pay attention.”

  Celia shrugged. “Okay, so you’re Super Sleuth. Forgive my doubting tendencies.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  “Sorry.” She grinned, showing she really wasn’t the least bit contrite.

  “Celia, you do have to be careful what you say around Hannah. I doubt Jacobs spends the money to bug the girls, because he strikes me as the type to be overly confident in his domination. But be careful all the same, all right?”

  Celia nodded, a little overwhelmed by the possibility that any conversation she had might be listened to. With a definite edge of sarcasm, she said, “This is just great, Alec. I feel better about the whole thing already.”

  A slight smile tugged at his sensual mouth. “Yeah, well don’t get too cocky on me. I still don’t like this setup worth a damn, and from now on, don’t even think about accepting any dates without running it past me first.” When she started to object again, he shushed her with a finger pressing on her lips. “I mean it, Celia. Make up any damn excuse you want, tell him you’ll have to call him after you free up some time, but no more without me approving it first. Got that?”

  She nodded grudgingly. Now that she understood him a little better, she didn’t mind his autocratic attitude nearly as much.

  Not that she’d let him boss her around, but…

  “Now,” he said, pulling her into his arms once again. “I’ve held off as long as I can. You prancing around here like that is making me crazy.” His voice dropped and he nuzzled her ear. “I need you, Celia.”

  Already her skin tingled and her stomach did flips. The way he’d said that had sounded like so much more than just sex. She glanced at the clock. It’d be a rush, but…

  “I want you, too, Alec. So much.”

  The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she found herself in his arms, on her way to the bed. Some things were worth making time for.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HE’D SCREWED UP royally and he knew it.

  Alec, crouched around a corner at the back of the warehouse “studio” where Celia was presently posing, chewed on the inside of his jaw and called himself three kinds of a fool. He’d distracted her, ruining her focus, and then sent her to her destination running late, which had made her frazzled. Whether or not she’d absorbed his last few warnings of caution and discretion, he couldn’t say. After he’d kept her in bed for an hour, exorcising his own private demons on her very willing body, she’d had to fly through her shower, and fixing her hair and makeup. She’d thought the result majorly disappointing.

  Alec knew any man looking at her would go nuts.

  With her slightly tousled hair, her glowing eyes and cheeks and her kiss-sw
ollen lips, she looked like sensuality incarnate, like a woman made to take a man, and there wasn’t a male alive who wouldn’t recognize and appreciate the picture she presented.

  It was one more thing to put him on edge. The whole setup stunk to high heaven. The “studio” was definitely a facade, more an abandoned warehouse in a not-so-great area where law enforcement didn’t make the time to visit with any regularity. The building was old, the brick facing a little rough and dirty in places. Alec had circled the whole building before Celia went in, and on the west side there were even some windows that had been boarded up. It looked as though only part of the warehouse was in use—the part Giles and Jacobs needed to lure in young women.

  The blacktop parking lot where Alec crouched was sweltering hot with the midday sun burning down on him. Sweat trickled down his temples and down the small of his back, but he ignored the discomforts, all his focus on Celia and what she was about to do.

  Small background noises reached Alec through his receiver as Celia was greeted and walked down a long concrete hallway. He heard the cavernous echoing of her high heels, the sounds of opening and closing doors, then stillness. They’d obviously taken her to a back office.

  A male voice intruded, making Alec’s senses come alive.

  “Ms. Sharpe! You’re right on time.”

  Alec’s brows rose. Ms. Sharpe? She’d used his last name? A grin teased at his mouth until he caught himself and frowned. His instinctive reaction unnerved him, but he didn’t have time to ponder the ramifications of it, not when Celia and the man were speaking. He didn’t want to miss a single word, though so far the conversation was banal enough. This man, then, wasn’t Blair Giles. The voice was young and enthusiastic and slightly flirtatious. Alec could well imagine any young man being enamored of Celia in her light-colored blouse and short skirt, her shapely legs posed in the ridiculously high heels. Something about spiked heels like that made a woman seem vulnerable, like she was almost hobbled, awaiting a man’s pleasure. Alec shook his head, remembering how carefully and delicately Celia walked in the damn things.