Wanton

by Lori Foster

  Thanks to Celia.

  If she hadn’t stopped him, he very well might have done serious damage. He didn’t want to think he was capable of actually killing so easily, but when he’d seen Jacobs hit her through the door window, when he crashed in and saw Celia down on the floor, her face bruised, he’d lost all reason. Never in his life had he been in such a killing rage. Yet Celia had stopped him with three little words. I love you.

  Alec cocked a brow. At the moment, she didn’t look too fond of him. She looked dejected and hurt and it damn near brought him to his knees. He knew he would kill for her. Hell, he’d die for her if it ever came to that. She meant so much to him he was still shaking from the near miss of maybe losing her. His hurtful words, and he knew damn well they had been hurtful, had been more a gut reaction to his own fear than anything else.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the wall and watched her open her suitcase onto the bed. She began stuffing clothes inside, moving by rote, with no real thought involved. Alec sighed. “Hannah seemed anxious to get home to her mother.”

  He got his first smile in hours, and it didn’t even rate as a full-fledged sign of cheer, more like weary relief. “Once she knew Jacobs and Giles couldn’t embarrass her family with any photos she was agreeable. Especially when I told her all the lengths her mother had gone to just to get her back.”

  “They really won’t be ashamed, will they? Because her involvement will come out in the trial. People will know what happened, they just won’t have pictures to go with the story.”

  Her smile this time was more genuine, if a little sad. “I knew you were responsible for that. All that nonsense about a break-in—”

  “Was my way of covering my ass. I figured while you prettied up for your party, I should make good use of my time. I kept my cell phone close so you could reach me if you’d needed to.”

  “The chances you took going there…”

  Alec shrugged. He was never the one at risk, but he didn’t say so just yet. “I didn’t destroy the whole warehouse, just the stuff that might embarrass the girls. The same is true of Jacobs’s files. I slipped in there easily enough and within minutes found everything I was looking for. It never ceases to amaze me the evidence some people keep around, arrogantly thinking they’ll never be caught. There’s plenty there to prove what a scum he is, just nothing that will make innocent people pay.”

  Celia sighed. “You’re pretty wonderful, Alec, you know that?”

  His heart tripped and his muscles tightened. “Is that why you’re trying to run away from me again?”

  Her hands full of clothes, Celia looked up in surprise. “I’m not.”

  He pointed out the obvious. “You’re packing.”

  She looked confused, then finally shook her head. “It’s time to go home. We’re done here. You said so yourself.”

  Alec narrowed his eyes and said low, “We had a deal, lady.”

  She dropped the clothes and stared up at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Very slowly he shook his head, then advanced on her. If he didn’t touch her soon he was going to lose it. When he was standing right in front of her, he said, “You promised to do what I want if I helped, and the day isn’t over yet. I figure you still owe me till morning.”

  “Alec…”

  “I want you in bed.” He scooped up her suitcase and dropped it on the floor. Clothes fluttered out, and he gained Celia’s immediate ire. She went on tiptoe to yell at him, making it damn near impossible for him to hold back a smile. He’d take her fire any day over the dejection she’d just been feeling.

  With one finger, she pointed at the bed while never looking away from him. “That is the very worst place for me. Yes, I made a deal with you, but that was when…” Her voice trailed off. She dropped back flat on her feet and stepped away. She bit her bottom lip.

  Alec picked her up and, despite her struggles, got her stretched out on her back on the mattress. “When what, honey?” He kissed her beautiful face, her tipped-up nose, her lush mouth. “Tell me.”

  Celia turned her face away. “When I thought I could stand it. When I thought I could love you and just walk away.”

  His heart breaking, Alec touched her chin and brought her gaze back around to his. Celia drew in a deep breath. “But I’m not as strong as you, Alec. And Jacobs’s little slap didn’t hurt nearly as much as your rejection and lack of respect.”

  “Celia.” He’d held back too long, and kissing her seemed like the most important thing in the world to him, an affirmation that she was truly alive and well.

  Celia didn’t fight him. Her mouth opened to his, and the kiss was gentle but deep, hungry and giving. Alec cupped her face in his hands, careful not to hurt her bruised cheek, and fed off her, knowing he’d never have enough, that three lifetimes wouldn’t be enough with this woman.

  When he finally pulled back she gulped down a sob and practically yelled right in his face, “You’re a fool, Alec Sharpe! And a damned coward.” Her voice cracked and she said in a quavering tones, “Because if you weren’t, you wouldn’t give up on love.”

  Alec smiled. “I know.”

  “You’re also—what do you mean, you know?”

  It was past time he told her how he felt, how much she meant to him. “I respect you, Celia. More than any man or woman I know. You believe in something, like saving Hannah, then you do whatever it takes to get the job done. Not many people have that much conviction, or are that brave.”

  “Really?”

  She looked so skeptical he wanted to bundle her up close and never let anything hurt her again. “I also trust you, and worry about you.” He kissed her, a kiss so giving he had to fight his own tears. “And I love you. More than anything this earth has to offer.”

  She sucked in a startled breath. “You love me?”

  Alec swallowed hard, then scowled, trying to cover his loss of control. “Hell, I must, otherwise I surely would have strangled you by now for always scaring me half to death. Look at what you do to me, honey.”

  He held out his hand and they both saw that he was still shaking like a wet pup. His voice dropped even lower and he groaned, “I thought I might lose you, and that’s something I couldn’t bear. You’re right when you say I’m a coward. I used to be afraid of what you made me feel, of how you affected me. Now I’m just afraid of having to go on without you.”

  Big tears slid down her cheeks, but they were happy tears. “Oh, Alec, I was so scared!”

  He understood the delayed reaction, of how the adrenaline rush would wear off and you were left depleted and hollow inside. He settled his body more firmly over hers, surrounding her with himself, his heat and his love. He whispered, “The fear is normal, babe. But the important thing is that you kept your head. You didn’t panic and you reacted when you needed to. Everyone gets in over his head every now and then, and you’re not immune. But you handled yourself well, and I think you’ve more than proved you have what it takes to make a great P.I.”

  His very well-rehearsed speech was met with mute surprise.

  Alec cleared his throat. “I’d only ask two things, though. One, that you not endanger yourself like that again. No more undercover stuff because my heart really can’t take it. And two—”

  Celia laid her palm on his mouth. She was smiling, a wide, happy smile now. “Alec, when I said I was afraid, I wasn’t talking about today, though that was pretty scary, too. I meant I was so afraid that you’d never want me, that you’d never love me back.”

  He kissed her palm and then pulled her hand away. “Not a chance, babe. You’re definitely stuck with me.”

  “Alec.” All the love she felt was there for him to see, and now, it filled him up rather than shaking him.

  He wanted to get back to business and see things settled. “Number two, would you marry me, Celia?”

  She froze for a heartbeat, then squealed in excitement. Alec laughed, aware of how tense he’d been holding himself, not sure of her answer
because he’d never been easy with her. But with the choke hold she had on his neck, he figured her answer was yes. He still wanted to hear her say it.

  “Answer me, woman.”

  “Yes!”

  “And about the undercover work?”

  Celia pulled back just enough to laugh in his face. “Alec Sharpe, being married to you will likely be all the excitement I need.”

  As she pulled his head back down, intent on seducing him if he didn’t miss his guess, Alec muttered, “Somehow I don’t think I’ll be able to hold you to that…”

  EPILOGUE

  “YOU KNOW EVERYONE’S going to think you’re pregnant with the way Alec rushed things.”

  Celia looked down at where Angel, moderately pregnant herself, straightened a ruffle in Celia’s elegant wedding gown. Alec had somehow, with her mother’s help, gotten everything arranged in just under two months.

  “My mother is hopeful.” Celia grinned, knowing that didn’t quite answer Angel’s implied question. But she had no intention of telling anyone until after she’d told the father.

  Angel scowled and slowly straightened. Dane, Angel’s overly doting husband, came into the room just then and hurried to assist his wife.

  “You shouldn’t be bending like that,” he said, and gently hauled her to her feet. Once there, he pulled her close and kissed her—then didn’t want to stop kissing her. Celia just smiled, since Alec now behaved in a similar fashion, always touching her, kissing her, making sinfully naughty, exciting promises in her ear that he knew would make her blush and make everyone else curious.

  She blushed now, just thinking of the night to come. Her wedding night.

  Angel pulled away, then shook her head at both Dane and Celia. “You two are incorrigible. Just look at you both. Dane, behave. And Celia, what in the world are you blushing about? It’s not like you shouldn’t be used to your brother by now.”

  Dane chuckled. “She’s used to me. It’s Alec that has her getting all flustered. You should see him pacing around outside. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was actually nervous. And he asked me how long he had to hang out at the reception before he and Celia could get away. Good grief, you’d think he could at least wait a few hours.” Dane cast a teasing glance at his sister. “I think you’ve managed to pickle his brain.”

  Angel sniffed. “If you’ll recall, I said all along they were meant for each other.”

  “Yes, you did. But it still boggles the mind.” He cast another swift glance at Celia. “I thought she drove him crazy. And he’s such a damn loner—”

  Celia sighed. “Used to be a loner—not anymore. And for your information, I do drive him crazy. It’s one of my more redeeming qualities. He says it keeps him on his toes.”

  Dane and Angel both grinned. “Is that what it does to him?”

  Organ music started in the background. Celia had been in the room for over an hour, getting the last-minute primping taken care of, with Angel’s help. She should have known her brother wouldn’t be able to stay away from his wife that long.

  She started to shoo them out the door so they could take their places, when suddenly Alec was there, looming in the doorway, looking incredibly sexy in his black tux. His golden earring glinted, but his hair had been trimmed, still a little long, but there was no need to tie it back. Celia sort of missed that ponytail, but even without it, he was gorgeous enough to bring the heat right back to her face.

  He looked vastly annoyed and gave her his patented killer glare, which still made grown men cower but had no real effect on Celia. “It’s been hours. What’s taking so long?”

  Angel squealed and tried to shield Celia behind her body. “You’re not supposed to see the bride before the ceremony!”

  “The damn ceremony is beginning and everyone is in here.”

  Dane laughed out loud, shaking his head and taking his wife’s hand. “Leave him be, honey. He’s got it bad.” He tugged Angel away, then out the door. To Alec he muttered, “You really ought to get a grip.”

  Alec stepped forward and lifted Celia into his arms. “Now that I have a grip on you, maybe we can get this show on the road.” Without hesitation, he started out the door.

  Celia tucked her face into his throat. “It’s pretty unorthodox for the bride to be carried to the altar by the groom. What will people think?”

  “That I love you and don’t want to wait anymore.”

  He made that statement in his usual certain, determined way, then followed Dane and Angel into the crowded hall.

  Celia kissed his throat. “I suppose it’s a little unorthodox also, for the bride to find out on the day of her wedding that she’s going to be a mama, but then, we’ve never done things by the book.”

  Alec froze. Celia could feel him tremble before she got such a tight squeeze she had to squeak in protest. As Alec entered the main room, carrying Celia with no effort at all while kissing the breath right out of her, applause broke out. The organ music continued, and the baffled bridesmaids fell into step behind the groom.

  Dane, laughing again, said, “What the hell,” and went over to grab his wife, pulling her out of line and keeping her at his side. The rest of the procession, confused, merely found a spot to stand around Celia and Alec.

  Celia’s mother was thoroughly scandalized, but she couldn’t quite keep the grin off her face. Little Grayson, Dane and Angel’s son, cheered loudly next to his grandmother.

  When the preacher cleared his throat—twice—Alec finally managed to release Celia from the kiss. But against her mouth he whispered, “You just can’t help but constantly take me off guard, can you?”

  And Celia, laughing and crying and ruining her carefully applied makeup, kissed him again and said, “It’s what I do best, Alec.”

  He stared at her mouth, ignored the snickering in the audience, the coughing of the preacher, and Dane’s outright laughter. He answered, “Oh, I wouldn’t exactly say that….”

  * * * * *

  New York Times bestselling author

  LORI FOSTER

  brings you into the world of Mixed-Martial Arts with her sultry and irresistible new Ultimate series that’s sure to have you begging for more…

  Hard Knocks (novella)

  No Limits

  Holding Strong

  Tough Love

  Fighting Dirty

  “Foster brings her signature blend of heat and sweet to her addictive third Ultimate martial arts contemporary."

  —Publishers Weekly on Tough Love (starred review)

  “Readers will be thrilled with Foster’s new sexy batch of fight club heroes and the women who love them.”

  —Kirkus Reviews on No Limits

  Be sure to also catch the deliciously sensual Love Undercover series available now!

  Run The Risk

  Bare It All

  Getting Rowdy

  Dash of Peril

  And don’t forget the Edge of Honor series!

  When You Dare

  Trace of Fever

  Savor the Danger

  A Perfect Storm

  What Chris Wants (novella)

  “Storytelling at its best! Lori Foster should be on everyone’s auto-buy list.”

  —#1 New York Times bestselling author Sherrilyn Kenyon

  All available now in ebook format

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers,

  free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/Newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Read on for a sneak peek at FIGHTING DIRTY, the newest Ultimate novel from New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster…

  Sitting alone at the bar, drinking a freaking lemon water, Armie Jacobson only half listened as Miles and Brand talked about upcoming fights at the table opposite him. Women tried to get his attention but he didn’t have
any interest. He’d put up a good front, given it a shot several times, and he’d probably convinced everyone with his bullshit, but the truth was that he hadn’t had any real interest in a good long while.

  Not since that day he’d finally tasted Rissy—Merissa Colter.

  His gaze went to the small hallway in Rowdy’s bar. Dim and narrow, it led to an office and the johns. Months ago he’d caught Rissy there and for a few minutes he’d lost the fight. Mouth on mouth, tongues playing, damp heat and a firestorm of sensation. Remembering, he closed his eyes and gave in to the surge of molten lust. God Almighty, she’d tasted good. Felt good. Fit against him perfectly.

  An elbow to his ribs got his eyes open again. Instead of one of the guys, it was Vanity, Stack’s wife, who slid onto a stool beside him. “What?” he asked.

  “You tell me,” she said, her gaze unwavering, her nails tapping on the bar counter.

  Gorgeous beyond words with long blond hair, a killer body and an angel’s face, Vanity was still one of the most down-to-earth, kindhearted people he knew. “Is that supposed to make sense to me, Vee?”

  “Yes. You’re moping and I want to know why.”

  Stack stood behind his wife and braced an arm on the bar. “It’s the upcoming fight,” Stack predicted. “He’s getting cold feet.”

  “No way,” Justice said, taking a seat behind Armie.

  Armie looked back and forth between them. “Sure, join me. Make yourselves comfortable.”

  Vanity patted his arm in a pitying way. “We don’t stand on formality, not when we see a friend moping.”

  “I’m not moping,” he denied. God, he was so moping.

  Justice laughed. “I’ve watched five different women hit on you—and you made excuses to all of them.”

  “Seriously?” Vanity asked Armie. “Are you off the market?”

  She looked way too pleased by that notion.

  Stack laughed. “That’s even more ridiculous than my gibe about him having cold feet.”

  A brunette approached the bar and Armie swallowed a groan. Of course he remembered her, but he pretended he didn’t.

  Because he was a dick like that.