Ace of Spades (Aces & Eights Book 3)

by Sandra Owens

  Alex noticed him practically drooling over their fellow agent, and Nate had the urge to wipe that smirk off his brother’s face. He settled for glaring at Alex, the little Cupid dumbass. Taylor looked over at him, and her happy smile at seeing him about stopped his heart. “Damn,” he muttered to himself. Today was going to be pure torture.

  He took a deep breath, then headed to his bike. “Morning,” he said, coming to a stop on the opposite side of the motorcycle from her.

  “Good morning.”

  There was that smile again. “Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle before?”

  “No, but I’ve always wanted to.”

  Pleasure filled his chest that she’d never been on the back of a bike with another man. There was nothing he loved doing more on his off day than riding. Would she get it once they got on the road? True bikers understood that, along with the pure fun of it, the cliché was true . . . Nothing could compare to the freedom one felt with a powerful machine between their legs while riding the open road, the wind blowing in your face and hair.

  “Okay, here’s what you need to know. I don’t have a backrest, so keep your arms around my waist. When I lean the bike, your instinct is going to be to resist and lean the other way. Don’t. Just keep your body against my back and lean with me.”

  “Okay, got it.”

  He grabbed his helmet and a spare from the hooks on the wall. She put on the one he handed her, but fumbled with the snap. “Here, let me do it.” Standing this close, her lemony scent floated up, and he caught himself leaning closer. Yep, today was definitely going to be torture. “There, all buckled up.”

  She picked up a black jean jacket from the seat of his motorcycle, slipping it on.

  “You look nice,” he said. That was a lie. She didn’t just look nice. She looked stunning. And really, really sexy.

  She beamed at him. “Thank you.”

  While he’d given her instructions and gotten her helmet on, Alex and Madison had put on their helmets, and Madison was already on the bike behind Alex. Nate slung a leg over his, lifting it upright.

  “Put your foot on the peg, then climb on.” Once she was settled behind him, her arms circling his waist, he started the bike. Having her wrapped around him was as torturous as he’d thought it would be. Her breasts were pressed against his back, the insides of her legs were aligned alongside the outside of his, and her palms rested on his shirt, right over his belly button. As he pulled away, he tried to decide whether he was in heaven or in hell.

  Once they were on the road, he put his hand over hers to make sure she didn’t let go, then accelerated. She laughed, the sound of it pure joy. He should have known she’d love riding on a motorcycle. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman behind him, and he’d forgotten how much he liked it. Even more so this time because it was Taylor.

  He glanced in his rearview mirror to make sure Alex was behind him, then headed north on A1A. After learning Taylor would be riding with them today, he’d decided to take the beach road to Pier 66 in Fort Lauderdale. There was a nice poolside restaurant at the pier, and after eating they could walk along the docks, playing tourist while gawking at all the huge yachts.

  It didn’t take long for Taylor to get the hang of being on the back of a motorcycle. A few miles down the road and she was leaning with him, not holding on for dear life or constantly bumping the back of his helmet with hers like so many passengers did their first time on a bike. That didn’t surprise him. When she made up her mind to do something, she invariably succeeded. They’d traveled another mile before he realized he had his hand on her knee. When had he done that?

  Then she started playing with his ponytail whenever they stopped at a light. Between her legs pressed alongside his, her breasts bouncing against his back, and her fingers combing his hair, he thought he might go insane. Or be permanently aroused, never able to walk normally again.

  And he still had his hand on her knee. He snatched it away, putting it back on the handlebar. To counter the effect she was having on him, he turned his mind to their case and what they knew so far. As yet, they had very little except for assumptions. Although most of those would probably prove true once they found their killer, Nate wanted facts. Thinking of their victims dumped in the Everglades in their white dresses, gold bands on their ring fingers, should have been as good as a bucket of ice dumped down his pants.

  But by the time they pulled into a parking space at Pier 66, he needed to cross his hands in front of him to hide his erection. Note to self: next time you have Taylor on the back of your motorcycle, wear the longest shirt you own.

  “That was awesome,” she said as she hopped off his bike. “I want a motorcycle.” She eyed Madison. “Wouldn’t you like to have your own bike?”

  “Nope, I like riding behind my man.” Madison gave her husband a sexy smile. “It’s a total turn-on to ride pressed all up against him.”

  Taylor glanced at him, mischief dancing in her eyes, and he braced himself for what was about to come out of her mouth. “I totally get that now that I’ve ridden behind Nate, but still. Being in control of all that power between your legs? Man, the thought of that makes me hot.”

  The air left his lungs at thinking of her straddling a motorcycle in that outfit. He bent over, more than was necessary, to lock the bike’s fork, while at the same time pulling his T-shirt out of his jeans in an attempt to cover his zipper area. It wasn’t damn long enough.

  Alex grinned, ambling over while the girls busied themselves with removing their helmets. “Should I just shoot you now? Put you out of your misery?”

  “Bug off, Alex.” Alex laughed so hard that Nate thought he might have to give his baby brother CPR.

  “What’s so funny?” Madison asked, joining them.

  “Nothing. Nothing’s funny.” Nate glared at Alex, daring him to open his mouth one more time.

  Taylor came up on the other side of him. “Can we go look at the yachts after we eat?”

  “Sure,” he said, a little surprised that his voice hadn’t sounded strangled.

  She handed him her denim jacket. “Hold this for me, okay?”

  As he took it from her, holding it in front of him, he glanced at her, getting a sly smile. She knew what was going on below his belt and was helping him hide the evidence. His heart took a disconcerting leap, something that had never happened with another woman. He didn’t like it.

  Liar, a voice whispered in his ear. He ignored it. “We’re eating at the Orchids Bar and Grill. It’s a poolside restaurant.” He glanced at Madison. “They have fish tacos.”

  “I knew I loved you,” she said, racing ahead, then turning and bouncing on her feet, her eyes on Taylor. “If Nate hasn’t told you, I would leave Alex for fish tacos.”

  “Hey,” Alex said. “I feed you fish tacos every chance I get. Get back here, woman.”

  Madison danced back to her husband with a big smile on her face, and Nate tried not to envy that his little brother was ridiculously happy for finding a woman who loved him unconditionally. When she reached Alex, she tucked herself under his arm, both of them staring at each other as if they were the only two people left on earth and they were good with that.

  The temperature was perfect for a day out on motorcycles, his brother and sister-in-law were flirting as if they were still on their honeymoon, and Nate had the one woman he could love, if only he knew how to accomplish such a feat, walking by his side. It didn’t get much better or much worse than that.

  After a great lunch, they strolled down to the pier, Alex and Madison walking ahead, their arms around each other’s backs. Taylor slipped her hand in his, and he glanced at her, his brow raised. She was staring with wide eyes at a yacht that had to be close to two hundred feet long.

  Nate had never held hands with a woman. Because he had no intention of ever marrying, he didn’t have relationships. He wasn’t a monk, far from it, but the women he took to bed knew the score. He made sure of it. They wanted nothing more from him than a f
ew hours of pleasure, and at the first sign of interest in spending time with him outside of the bedroom, he backed off.

  He was thirty-three years old, on his first real date, and holding hands with a woman he’d desired for a long time. This wasn’t good. Not how much he liked her hand in his and not whatever the hell it was in his heart that felt like some kind of happy bubbles. Damn Alex and his meddling.

  A small fishing boat pulled up to the stern of the yacht. A man in a white double-breasted chef’s jacket appeared on the wide back deck. They stopped, watching as the fisherman handed up several large groupers.

  “Wow, that’s so cool.” Taylor eyed the fisherman. “Fresh fish delivered right to your door.”

  “I guess if you can afford that kind of boat,” Madison said, “you can afford a personal chef and all the fresh seafood you want.”

  Alex smirked at his wife. “The little thing bobbing behind is a boat, Mad. The big thing is a yacht. There’s a definite difference.”

  She punched his arm, then hopped away, laughing. “Boat, yacht, whatever. Make fun of me and see if you get any tonight.”

  “Get back here, wife,” Alex said.

  She jogged backward down the pier. “Nope. I’m going to find a sea captain and sail away with him . . . Or is that yacht off with him? Oh, wait. I think I’ll just boat off with him.” Alex took off after her, both laughing as he chased her.

  “They’re adorable,” Taylor said.

  “Yeah, they’re a Hallmark movie come to life.” He glanced at her, struck by the longing in her eyes as she watched his brother and Madison. Tearing his gaze away, he swallowed the question hovering on his lips. Is that what you want, Taylor? Someone to love you that way? He’d thought she only wanted an affair, a little fun to work off the chemistry between them that sometimes felt like an out-of-control wildfire. That he might be able to handle, as long as they came to an understanding that they were taking their relationship to no more than friends with benefits.

  The idea of it had been brewing ever since he’d kissed her. He’d even made a mental list of his conditions before he’d agree: the most important one being that either could call it quits and there wouldn’t be any hard feelings. Once the heat between them dimmed, they would still be best friends.

  The longing he’d just seen in her eyes, though, had him putting the brakes on any thought of taking their relationship to the next level. If she wanted someone to love her the way Alex did Madison, he wasn’t that man. She was the last person in the world he wanted to hurt, and he would if she was looking for more than a fling. That was a given.

  Yet he didn’t let go of her hand.

  Taylor sensed the change in Nate. That was how well she knew him. She doubted any other woman would have noticed the slight loosening of his hand around hers or that he’d withdrawn into his moody self. But she did, so what did that say about her? That she was yearning for a man who didn’t believe he deserved to be loved?

  She wasn’t sure that was exactly his problem, but based on his history—rejected by his mother, abused by his father—who wouldn’t think that? It was enough to bring tears to her eyes at thinking of him as a boy, unloved but struggling to be both mother and father to his brothers. She quickly blinked her tears away. He would hate knowing she hurt for him.

  Sometimes she let herself imagine being with him, wondering what he was like in bed. Skilled, for sure. Was he dominant? She liked to think he was. Hoped he was, if she ever got time in his bed.

  She spent all day in a man’s world and had to come across as strong, always a step ahead if she wanted to keep from getting walked over. It would be exciting to let go with a man she trusted to take charge of her and her body in the bedroom. She believed Nate could be that man.

  “See those two dudes over there?” Nate said, breaking into her thoughts.

  She followed his gaze, spying two oversized men standing at the bottom of stairs leading up to a yacht bigger than the one they’d just walked by. “Bodyguards?”

  “Yeah. And they’re carrying.”

  “Wonder who the yacht belongs to?” She scanned the deck. There wasn’t anyone moving about, but there was a helicopter sitting on a landing pad. “Someone famous, or there’d be no need for the muscle.” Both guards’ attention was focused on them as they approached.

  “Good name for it,” Nate said.

  She smiled at seeing Escape in script across the back. “I could definitely escape in that.”

  Nate nodded to the guards as they walked past. Neither responded, only watched them through mirrored sunglasses. He glanced at her. “Would you like having that kind of money?”

  “Not even. Sure, I’d love to have enough money to open a home for girls, but the kind to buy a yacht like that? It would be too much of a burden. I’m just a simple girl, Nate. I don’t need much.” She grinned. “Well, maybe enough to buy a few more pairs of Jimmy Choos, but I’ll get there. Anyway, I just want someone—” She snapped her mouth closed. She’d almost said she just wanted someone—namely him—to love her the way Alex and Court loved their wives. Someone she could trust enough to hand him her heart.

  “I’m not that man, tiger,” Nate said, letting go of her hand.

  How had he known what she’d been about to say? She stood on the middle of the pier, watching him walk away.

  “I think you could be if you’d only let yourself believe,” she whispered to his retreating back.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I talked to Rothmire this morning,” Taylor said. “As soon as we get a better idea of who we’re looking for, I’ll be going undercover. We need to get some kind of description of our man and one of his car, otherwise it’s a no-go.”

  Nate squeezed his fingers around the pen in his hand. His team, with the addition of Court—back from his honeymoon, looking tanned and absurdly happy—sat around the conference-room table early Monday morning. The day after his first and last date with Taylor.

  She glanced at his hand. “You’re going to break that in half if you squeeze it any harder.”

  He’d like to break Rothmire in half for agreeing to the undercover plan, but at least the boss had qualified his approval. “Alex and Josh will be out on the streets tonight, looking for any witnesses who might have seen someone suspicious or a description of a car that caught their attention.”

  Alex was decent at disguising himself, and since the case against Madison’s uncle was closed, he was getting antsy. Sitting around staring at a computer screen wasn’t Alex’s thing, so Nate was letting him out of his cage.

  “Prostitutes have a sixth sense for danger,” Taylor said. “I’m sure there’s at least one out there who either encountered him or noticed something that made her uneasy. We just have to find her so we can get a line on this bastard before victim number four turns up.”

  Taylor passed around the press release that would air on the evening news on all the local stations. Nate read it over again. He hoped it would bring their man out of hiding, but it could just as easily send him deeper underground.

  “We purposely didn’t mention that the three women were prostitutes, although that will come out soon enough,” Taylor said. “As for Linda Harding, Nate and I decided to say that she was a single mother of two young daughters, struggling to make ends meet.”

  Nate slipped his copy of the release into his folder. “We don’t think he knew she had children. Learning that she did will upset him.” He glanced around the room. “Anything else? No? Okay, we’ll meet back here in the morning.” Until their man was behind bars, the team would meet each morning to review their findings and make decisions on how to proceed.

  Alex and Josh walked out together, making plans for meeting up that evening. “Stay a minute,” Nate said when Court and Rand rose. “You too,” he told Taylor. She’d been sitting at the other end of the table but moved to the chair next to him and across from Court. Close enough for Nate to catch her scent.

  He’d been something of an ass on the way home yester
day, for which he was sorry. That longing in her eyes had slayed him. He wanted to be the man who put stars in her eyes. But he was his father’s son, and he didn’t trust himself. What if the day came when he couldn’t control the rage that simmered deep in his bones? It had gotten loose once, almost twice, proving that he couldn’t be trusted.

  Even though he had been quiet and moody riding back to his condo, she was her usual happy self today. It only made him feel worse. She should call him out on acting like a jerk. When they’d arrived home, he’d barely said good-bye before heading for the elevator, leaving her with Alex and Madison. He could always count on his brothers to speak their mind, and Alex hadn’t hesitated to call him an ass first thing this morning.

  “I need you both to concentrate solely on trying to find similar murders,” he told Court and Rand. “These three kills are too clean and organized. I’d bet my paycheck that he’s killed before. If so, he obviously wasn’t caught, so they’ll be unsolved.” He glanced at Taylor. “Fill them in on what our profiler said so they’ll know where to start looking. I’m going to go call that police chief . . . What was his name? The one we met in the Everglades?”

  “Grant. I think his first name was Boyd.”

  He nodded. “Sounds right.”

  “Did Chief Grant have any useful information?” Taylor asked.

  “Nothing we don’t already know. He was more interested in what it took to be an FBI agent.”

  Taylor grinned. “Aren’t they all?”

  They were sitting at a back table in a piano bar close to the office, Taylor sipping a glass of wine and him nursing a beer. He’d left right after he’d talked to Grant, heading over to the police station in Liberty City’s jurisdiction.

  Taylor probably wasn’t going to be happy that he hadn’t invited her along, but he’d needed to do some thinking. He’d decided to put his cards on the table and explain to her where he was coming from, and he owed her an apology. So he’d called her, inviting her for a drink after she got off.