Grinning, Griff sat down across from her, unfolded his napkin, placed it in his lap, and glanced at Nic as he lifted his knife and fork. “I didn’t order salads because I was afraid you’d eat the salad and claim you were full. I know how women are about eating a decent meal.”
“Not this woman,” Nic told him as she grabbed her knife and fork.
Griff laughed. “I wasn’t sure about dessert, so I ordered a variety tray.”
An hour later, with their meal eaten, every one of the six desserts taste-tested and two-thirds of the wine gone, Nic sauntered back into the lounge and sat on the sofa. Griff refilled their wineglasses and brought them with him. He handed Nic hers, then sat down beside her, lifted his feet, and rested them on the coffee table.
“Why don’t we put off any more business talk until tomorrow?” Griff suggested. “You need to relax tonight and—”
“I thought tonight was strictly business.”
“It is. The business of helping Nicole Baxter rejuvenate.” He spread his arm out on the sofa back behind her. “You push yourself too hard. Why, honey? What are you trying to prove?”
Nic looked down into the wineglass, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Griff. “You think I’m some angry, militant feminist, don’t you?”
“I never said—”
“Well, I’m not.” She snapped her head up and glared at him. “You don’t know me. You don’t have any idea who I am and what I think and how I feel.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
Her gaze locked with his, neither of them able to look away.
“Our relationship was much easier when I didn’t like you,” Nic told him. “I’ve judged you just as harshly as you’ve judged me and as much as I hate to admit it, I’ve probably been as wrong about you as you have about me.”
“Watch out, Special Agent Baxter, you’re on the verge of being nice to me.”
Nic smiled, then glanced away. “Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, then asked, “How’s the headache?”
“What headache?” She sighed. “It must have been a hunger headache. Either that or a stress headache. Either way, it’s gone now, thanks to the lovely, relaxing meal we just shared.” She saluted him with her glass. “And the wine helped.”
“You can’t drive to your hotel now,” he said.
“You aren’t suggesting that I spend the night here, are you?”
“Not here with me. This is a one-bedroom suite. But I can arrange a room for you here and—”
“Or I could take a taxi back to my hotel.”
“Stay here. We can finish off the bottle of wine, talk a while longer, and get to know each other a little better. Maybe get rid of a few more of our preconceived notions about each other. Then, in the morning, we can have breakfast together and if you’ll let me, I’ll tag along with you tomorrow.”
“Ah, now the real reason you’re being so nice comes out. You’ve been buttering me up.”
“You caught me.”
She should be angry with him, but she wasn’t. She should get up right now and leave. She didn’t.
“I’ll stay,” she told him. “In the hotel, not in your bedroom.”
Griff nodded, then got up to make a phone call.
“Where’s the restroom?” she asked.
He pointed the direction, then turned his attention to whoever was on the other end of the line.
When she came out of the bathroom, she found him waiting for her back on the sofa. And she noticed that he had topped off their wine.
“You have a room booked for tonight, just down the hall,” he told her.
“Thank you.”
“Sit.” He patted the sofa cushion. “We’ll talk.”
“I’m fading fast,” she admitted. “I’m not sure how much longer I can make it without falling asleep. Maybe I’d better say good night.”
“The bellman should be up here with your key shortly and then I’ll walk you to your door.”
She sat down beside Griff. “I see why so many women find you irresistible.”
“Why is that?” He leaned toward her.
“Because you’re very charming. And you have a knack for making a woman feel special.”
“You are special, Nicki.”
They each leaned toward the other until they were face-to-face, only a couple of inches separating them. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to?
When the bellman knocked on the door, Nic gasped and jerked back. And when Griff went to get the key from the bellman, she jumped up and met him before he reentered the lounge.
“I should go,” she told him.
He cupped her elbow. “I’ll walk you to—”
“No! No, thank you. Just give me the key. I’m fine on my own.” She held out her hand.
He laid the plastic keycard in her hand, then folded her fingers over it. Her gaze moved from where he cupped his big hand over her fingers up to his face. “Order breakfast for seven, will you? We can talk more then. I’m sure we’ll both be more levelheaded after a good night’s sleep.”
Chapter 15
Nic had stayed in Charlotte for several days after Dru Tanner’s body had been discovered, and while she’d continued with the investigation, she had waited for the Scalper to call again.
He hadn’t called.
True to his word, Griff had kept a low profile while they were in Charlotte. He’d done his best to avoid the press and although he’d shadowed her every move, he hadn’t interfered in any way.
When she’d decided to return to D.C. and Griff had offered the use of his jet, she had refused at first.
But then he’d said, “I thought we were friends now.”
“Not friends,” she’d corrected him. “Friendly acquaintances.”
“How about friendly colleagues?”
“Acquaintances.” She would not agree that they were colleagues. She was a federal agent, an authorized law enforcement officer. He was a private detective, one who often used his wealth, power, and notoriety to bend the rules to suit himself.
He’d nodded, but hadn’t verbally concurred with her assessment of their relationship. So, they’d left it at that. But she had flown to D.C. on his jet today, and they had once again kept their conversation focused on business.
“He’s not going to call again until he gets what he wants, is he?” she’d asked Griff.
“It’s been nearly a week and so far, he hasn’t contacted either of us with a clue. And as far as we know he hasn’t abducted another woman, but we can’t be certain about that.”
“I should probably issue a press release that refers to him as ‘the Hunter,’ then wait and see what happens. But it galls me to give in to his demand.”
“Yeah, I know. Unfortunately, for now, it looks like we’ll have to keep playing by his rules. He needs to think he’s more powerful than either of us.”
“Or the two of us combined.”
Four hours ago, they had landed in D.C. and she’d gone straight to the office and put together a press release. Then she and Griff had driven to her home in Woodbridge.
How long would it take the press release to hit the airwaves? Immediately? Tonight? Tomorrow? When would the Hunter learn that he’d won this round, that Nic had given him what he wanted?
Neither she nor Griff had discussed him staying in the D.C. area overnight, and when he had gone home with her, neither of them had mentioned anything about when he’d leave. She had ordered pizza for supper and they’d laughed when they realized they both preferred thin crust, loaded with a variety of meats and smothered in black olives.
They kicked back in her living room, sitting on the floor as each of them finished off a second beer and eyed the one piece of loaded pizza left on the coffee table.
“We could share it,” Griff suggested.
She waved her hands back and forth. “No, no, you eat it. I had three huge pieces and I certainly don’t need any more.”
“Well,
if you insist.” Griff lifted the luscious, cheese-smothered piece, brought it to his mouth, grinned at her, and then took a big bite.
Nic studied Griff as he ate. If anyone had told her a few months ago that she and Griff would ever be on friendly terms, she’d have thought them insane. She had spent years disliking the man. Disliking? Change that to practically despising. And there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the feeling had been mutual. They couldn’t breathe the same air without wanting to strangle each other.
So what had changed?
She hadn’t. And neither had he. They were both the same two people they’d always been.
“What?” he asked as he finished off the last bite of pizza and picked up his bottle of beer.
“Huh?”
“You’re looking at me funny,” he told her. “Do I have tomato sauce on my face or bits of meat between my teeth?”
“No. I was just thinking how strange this is—the two of us sitting in my living room floor, sharing pizza and beer.”
“Friendly colleagues and friendly acquaintances do things like this.”
“Yes, I know, but that’s what makes this slightly weird—up until a couple of months ago, you and I could barely have a civil conversation.”
Griff smiled. “Ten weeks ago everything changed when we received those first phone calls. Odd as it sounds, I suppose we can thank the Scalper—uh, the Hunter—for forcing us to work together and giving us a chance to get to know each other.”
“There are things about you that I still don’t like,” Nic told him with brutal honesty.
He laughed. “Same here.”
“And I suppose you know that I’ve been getting some ribbing from my colleagues at the bureau about our relationship.”
“Good-natured ribbing, I hope.”
“Yes, but …” She could hardly tell Griff that more than one of her coworkers had implied that she had succumbed to the legendary Powell charm.
“But?”
“Nothing.” She got up off the floor. “I want something for dessert. I think I have some shortbread cookies in the pantry.”
Griff reached up and grabbed her hand. She looked down at him.
“It bothers you that someone might think we’re sleeping together, doesn’t it? But it shouldn’t. We’re both single, both consenting adults, and it’s really nobody’s business.”
She yanked her hand from his. “You do know that you have a rather notorious reputation when it comes to women?”
“I’ve never been one to kiss and tell,” Griff said.
“No, but apparently some of the women you’ve kissed have been.”
“Nic?”
“Let’s drop it, okay? I’m going to get those cookies.” She headed toward the kitchen. “Want another beer?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
She rushed out of the living room, more to get away from Griff than any urgent need for cookies. Once in the kitchen, she blew out a deep breath and called herself an idiot for bringing up the subject of their relationship. They were friendly acquaintances, but that was it. No romance. No sex.
She opened the pantry, searched for the cookies, saw them, grabbed the box, and turned around—right into Griff’s hard chest.
She gasped when she collided with him.
He was way too close, their bodies touching.
“You do know that you can trust me, don’t you, Nic?”
She swallowed. She could handle Griffin Powell at arm’s length, but up close and personal like this, she wasn’t so sure. The drumming roar of her heartbeat thundered through her head and a rush of excitement surged through her body. She felt a tightening sensation between her thighs.
“I’m not your type, remember?” she told him.
“And I’m not your type, am I?”
“No. You’re not.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” he said. “I’m not your type and you’re not mine. There are things you don’t like about me and things I don’t like about you. You’re not the least bit impressed with my reputation or my money and I’m not impressed by your ball-bashing reputation. Maybe that’s why I find you so fascinating.”
“You find me fascinating?” She couldn’t breathe. If he touched her …
“Utterly fascinating. And quite an enigma. You’re an aggressive, independent lady and a tough-as-nails federal agent, yet you’re completely feminine.” He reached up and caressed her cheek, then ran his fingertips down her neck. “And all woman.”
She knew that if she didn’t stop him, he would kiss her. And if he kissed her, they would make love.
“It’ll just be sex,” she told him.
“Sure, honey. Whatever you say.”
He kissed her. Slowly. Tenderly. Taking his time. Brushing his lips over hers. Nipping at her bottom lip. Outlining her mouth with his tongue before plunging inside.
Stop him now, before it’s too late.
But she didn’t stop him.
She lifted her arms up and around his neck as she pressed her breasts against his chest. One advantage of being five ten was that even though she couldn’t stand eye to eye with a guy who was six four, he didn’t tower over her, either. And their bodies aligned oh so right. Almost perfectly.
When he deepened the kiss, he eased his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks. He forced her lower body intimately against his.
He was hard.
She was wet.
They were both ready.
She ended the kiss, gulped in air, and said breathlessly, “We won’t pretend this is something it’s not.”
She grabbed his face between her open palms and kissed him. Ravaged him. He reciprocated, giving back as good as he got.
God, how she wanted this. Needed this.
They went at each other, touching, kissing, licking, and tearing at each other’s clothes. She managed to get his shirt over his head, leaving his chest bare. While she worked on his belt, he unbuttoned her blouse, spread it apart, and grabbed her hands. Holding her wrists to either side of her, he lowered his head and placed his mouth over one taut nipple. She shivered when his hot mouth touched her breast.
“Bed.” She managed to get out the one word.
He groaned, then allowed her to lead him out of the kitchen. They made it to the living room before he kissed her again. After that, she was lost. He shoved her onto the sofa and hurriedly removed her jeans and panties while she tossed her open blouse and bra on the floor. He helped her loosen his belt and unzip his pants. Within seconds, the remainder of his clothing joined hers on the carpet.
No soft music. No candlelight. No sweet words of love.
Just raw passion.
But that’s what Nic wanted. What she needed.
It was what it was—sex.
Griff came down over her. She took him into her arms as he kissed her. She raked her nails down his back, over his spine, and across his firm ass. When he sucked one nipple and then the other, she bucked up, asking him to take her. He lifted her hips to meet his thrust. Nic cried out with sheer pleasure when he lunged into her hard and deep.
In the frenzy of their lovemaking, they toppled off the sofa and onto the floor, but they barely noticed. Nothing mattered except the release they both sought.
Their need was too great, the heat between them too scorching, their bodies far too hungry for satisfaction to make the experience last. Nic came first, every nerve in her body screaming glory hallelujah as her muscles shivered with pleasure.
As if her climax triggered his, Griff growled a deep, throaty groan when he jetted into her. With his big body shaking, he collapsed on top of her, then quickly rolled off her and took her with him, pulling her close.
She lay there, her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears, her body damp, and her skin sensitive to the touch.
It was just sex, she reminded herself. But it was damn good sex.
Griff ran his hand over her hip. She shuddered. He kissed her shoulder.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Better than okay,” she told him truthfully.
“Satisfied?”
She lifted herself up, braced her elbow on the floor, and turned to him. “Very satisfied.”
“We didn’t use any kind of protection,” he said, his voice low and quiet.
“Yeah, I know. We’re idiots.” She looked him right in the eye. “I don’t do stuff like this—unplanned, unprotected sex. I’m not on the pill.”
He reached up and skimmed his fingertips across her cheek and down her throat, stopping at the top curve of her right breast. She sucked in air.
“I keep condoms in my travel kit,” he told her.
“Always prepared, huh? I suppose you have to be, considering how many women throw themselves at you.”
Nic suddenly felt embarrassed. She wanted to kick her own butt for being so reckless. She’d just had unprotected sex with an infamous womanizer.
She pulled away from Griff and stood up, intending to go to the bathroom. Before she got two feet away from him, he jumped up and grabbed her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck.
“My reputation with the ladies is grossly exaggerated,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t screw every woman who throws herself at me. I do have affairs, mostly brief affairs, but I don’t bed-hop. While I’m in a relationship, no matter how brief, I don’t sleep around.”
“And you usually use protection?” She didn’t try to jerk away from him; she liked the feel of his arms around her far too much.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I always use protection, that it’s been a long, long time since I did something like this?”
She turned in his arms. “I’ve never done something like this.”
“We got carried away with the moment. It happens. I don’t want you to feel guilty about it or worry that you might be pregnant.”
Nic closed her eyes. Pregnant? Merciful Lord!
Her entire body went stiff.
He grasped her shoulders and shook her gently. “Nic?”
“I don’t feel guilty,” she told him. “And I doubt that I’m pregnant. But if, God forbid, I am, I’ll deal with it.”
He ran his hands down her arms, then released her, but he didn’t say anything. Did that mean he was okay with what she’d told him? He probably assumed she meant that if she was pregnant, she’d get an abortion.
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