Emma Montrose was coming out of the shade and going after the man she wanted. She intended to channel the fictional taniwha on George Taniwha Investigators and Security’s letterhead—formidable and determined, ready to scare Jack into thinking her way. By the time she was finished, he’d know of her interest. Then, he could take the next step.
She drew herself up.
No. That wasn’t right.
She refused to let him slide from her sights without a fight. She’d take the second and third steps and as many other steps as the situation required.
Emma pushed aside several possible scenarios, concentrating on and visualizing the one she wanted. A secret smile curled across her lips as she fluffed her short curly hair.
Two lovers.
Emma and Jack.
Horizontal dancing.
Heat seeped into her cheeks. Emma yanked out her office wheelie chair, plonked down her butt and grabbed up a pile of envelopes off the desk to fan her face. This brave new Emma might embarrass her a little, but she’d try to keep up.
The front door of the office opened, and she straightened abruptly, her spine hitting the back of the chair. Well. No time like the present to put her plan into action.
Emma put her best receptionist manner into practice and flashed a smile. “Good morning, Jack.”
The man froze in a possum-in-headlights pose, giving Emma the opportunity to look her fill. He was tall and built with a rower’s powerful shoulders, slim hips and a butt that her fingers itched to grope. His hair was shiny black, halfway between short and long and in need of a cut, making her fingers itch to smooth the messy strands away from his face. A dreamy sigh squeezed past her lips. Blessed with sun-kissed skin, no matter what the season, she often fantasized about his appearance beneath the layers of clothing. Did the gorgeous olive tones—a legacy from his Maori ancestors—extend all over his body? Hopefully she’d sit in a position of knowledge soon.
“Morning.”
The word came out as a grunt, but it was an improvement on his usual silence or what she called the office furniture treatment. She forced away a surge of nerves and looked him straight in the eye. “Are you here to see George?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Emma’s breath caught, her lungs filling with his seductive scent—something that reminded her of the mystical Orient with hints of orange and patchouli and a healthy dose of masculine musk. She stared, and the act of holding his gaze propelled heat across her skin. A hot fiery surge of self-conscious emotion.
Dangerous.
Crazy.
A challenge to her goal.
She sucked in a deep breath and puffed it back out again. The sight of his gorgeous masculine attributes made a woman imagine skin-to-skin contact. That big, strong form moving against hers, thrusting deep into her pussy, callused hands fondling her breasts, fingers plucking at her nipples. A sensuous shiver swept her and arousal soaked her panties without warning.
She gulped and licked suddenly dry lips. All that from merely passing pleasantries. What would happen if they were naked? Together?
Get a grip, she thought sternly as her hormones danced a frenzied jitterbug. A cough cleared her throat. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Hmmm. Not bad for the first time. She’d improve with the next meeting.
“I don’t mind waiting.”
Emma felt her eyes grow round. Huh? What was wrong with this picture?
Jack closed the distance between them and used his forefinger to tap her under the chin. Her heart stuttered in a mad gallop. She gasped, jerking from his touch in outright shock.
The door from the street burst open, and George bounded inside followed by his son, Hone. “Ah, you’re here, Jack. I thought you might change your mind.”
“No,” Jack snapped, glaring at Hone.
Hone ignored Jack’s scowl and sauntered across the office to stop beside Emma. “Hello, sweetheart.” He hauled her from her chair and wrapped her in a breath-stealing bear hug.
“Put her down,” Jack growled.
“But I haven’t seen her for a week.” Hone nuzzled her neck and Emma giggled. “She’s my girl.”
“Don’t you have a case to solve?” Jack looked as if he wanted to punch his friend.
Not in the least perturbed by his buddy’s bad temper, Hone parked his butt on the corner of her desk and flashed a sexy grin. Emma sighed as she peeked through lowered lashes at Jack’s surly face. Why couldn’t she fall for Hone instead of grumpy Jack? It was a mystery, all right. Although Hone made her smile and was easy on the eye, he didn’t affect her heart rate in the slightest.
Not like Jack.
George shook his head. “Hone, I want you to check into a case that came in yesterday. Mrs. Denning has a thief she needs to flush out. Emma can give you the details. Jack, I want to go over a few details regarding the case we discussed yesterday.” He strode toward his office but paused in the doorway. “Emma, I need to see you in my office once you’re finished with Hone.”
Bother. She’d hoped George might let her gain some practical experience with Mrs. Denning’s case. Obviously not. She scowled and decided it was time to remind George of his promise.
Five minutes later, Emma knocked lightly on George’s door and entered. She carried a pad and pen to take notes. Jack was sprawled in a chair near the window. He jumped to his feet on seeing her.
“Ah, good.” George checked his watch then stood. “I have a golf date. I’ll leave you in Jack’s capable hands.”
George’s words echoed in her mind for long drawn-out seconds. She heard the click of the door as her boss departed but couldn’t concentrate on anything except the concept of capable hands. A mental picture popped into her mind, aided by fertile imagination. Masculine hands cupping her naked breasts, fingers plucking her sensitive nipples.
Oh, my. She subsided into a chair in case her legs buckled. Without warning, her cotton blouse felt several sizes too small and her face glowed with enough heat to cook a batch of pikelets for morning tea. She fanned her cheeks vigorously with her notepad.
“Are you feeling all right?” Emma’s head snapped up to find Jack’s enigmatic gaze settled on her. “You’ll be as useful as a war canoe without a warrior to paddle if you fall sick.”
“What…what do you mean?” Emma thought she understood but wanted clarity and confirmation.
“George wants you to help me with my case.”
Emma jumped to her feet and pumped her fist in the air. “Yes!” She did an impromptu jig before noticing his gaze on her bouncing breasts. Emma froze then dropped into her chair, striving to keep embarrassment from crawling across her face. She must work on maintaining her cool.
“Don’t get too excited. You’re along on a trial basis. You help out with the grunt work. Do what I say, when I say with no questions asked. Is that clear?”
“No problem.” Emma restrained her celebratory grin and the urge to give him a cheeky salute. Hot damn. She was gonna be a private dick. “What’s the case?”
“We’re investigating at the Mahoney Resort over on Waiheke Island. We think there’s a drug ring running out of the resort. Sports-enhancing drugs.”
“Sounds great. Are we going for the day? When are we going?” Emma was finding it difficult to sit still instead of dancing in celebration. Her first case and closer contact with Jack all in one hit. Life couldn’t get much better.
Jack scowled, a fierce frown, no doubt in an attempt to burst her bubble of enthusiasm. “We’re going for a week. You’ll need to pack tonight since we leave for Waiheke tomorrow. Here’s the file. Read the documents carefully and let me know if you have questions.”
Emma nodded eagerly. Their hands brushed during the file transfer and a frisson of pleasure zapped down her arm. Surprised, she jerked away, almost dropping the info in her haste. “I’ll read it,” she promised, her gaze lowering to screen her reaction. Her stomach swooped and plunged as if she were attached to a bungee cord. Aware of the b
urgeoning silence and Jack’s disapproval, she hurried into speech. “What time do we leave?”
“The ferry departs at ten tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up at nine thirty.”
“I live at—”
“I know your address. Don’t be late.”
Chapter Two
Anticipation heated her cheeks and zipped to her belly as they joined the queue to board the ferry to Mahoney’s island resort. She swallowed, hoping to settle the swarm of butterflies inhabiting her stomach. It was happening. She was actually taking part in an investigation.
Emma shuffled from foot to foot, picking up her bag then putting it back down while she tried to take in everything and quell her impatience to get started. She glanced at Jack. Calm. Uninterested even. He acted so unaffected while everyone else radiated excitement. Very strange.
Animated chatter filled the covered walkway where they waited to board. A hostess dressed in black shorts and a tight pale blue T-shirt emblazoned with the word Mahoney’s in navy blue over her left breast, checked people off her list and allowed them to board. Couples of all ages and sizes lined up, shuffling hand luggage and making friends with strangers in the line.
No one talked to them.
Not that Emma blamed anyone. Jack could appear scary to the uninitiated with his unruly dark hair and the dragon tattoo that wound around his left biceps.
Of course, there were some who saw past the tough-guy disguise. Emma knew he gave up his time to help out at a local foster home. She knew there was gentleness beneath the grumpy exterior, but he kept it well hidden.
Deep in thought, she leapt in fright when a masculine arm curved around her waist.
“You’re gonna have to cure the jumpiness. We’re meant to be lovers.”
Emma’s gaze shot up to meet dark chocolate-brown eyes. Sinful eyes, she thought with an inward sigh.
Those eyes could lead her into transgressions. Anytime.
“Sure, honey,” Emma said, miffed for almost giving them away. Yet she was angry with Jack, too, because he was doing his best to shove her off balance. He’d certainly tried to talk her out of the assignment. She wanted to glare but it wasn’t loverlike. Most of all she wanted to needle Jack into some sort of response. Anything. Yes, an urge to poke him with a sharp stick just to witness his reaction had her fingers flexing.
“How long before we get to our room?” she cooed instead, fluttering her mascara-laden lashes at him. “I need your cock inside me.” Part of Emma was shocked at her words, but the couple standing in front of them grinned at her in sympathy.
“Have you seen the contents of those goody bags the hostess is giving out?” the young blonde woman asked. A theatrical shiver jiggled her pert, braless breasts.
“No, what?” Emma’s fertile imagination created all sorts of pictures. Handcuffs? Powerful aphrodisiacs? Torturous sex toys?
The woman leaned closer to whisper, “A pair of edible undies.”
“Both his and hers,” her partner added with a grin.
“No!” Emma breathed. Good grief. It would be akin to choking down pills. With her luck, she’d gag and throw up all over her lover’s groin. All over Jack’s groin. “I hope they’re chocolate flavored.” Emma waggled her brows.
“Oh, you’re terrible.” The woman giggled.
So terrible that Jack’s arm tightened around her in silent warning, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh at her waist. She smothered a grin. Perhaps if she kept needling him, her nervousness would pass.
“I’m looking forward to this week,” she confided to the young woman. “My honey works so hard. He’s exhausted when he gets home and most nights he falls asleep in his chair watching television.” She slid a glance his way to gauge Jack’s reaction. Her stomach flipped anxiously on noticing the tic in his shadowed jaw. He looked as though he might burst while the arm around her waist tensed until it resembled a shackle. But not enough to make her stop goading him. “Too tired for good sex, if you know what I mean.”
A low growl vibrated through his chest. Emma stilled and the back of her neck prickled. Slowly, her gaze rose from his broad chest and traveled up his neck, across his rigid jaw to collide with stormy eyes.
“We intend to make up for that, don’t we, sweetheart?” His pinched expression promised retribution. “Can’t have you saying I can’t get it up often enough to keep you satisfied. Wouldn’t want you to wander to other men.”
Oops. Perhaps she’d pushed a little hard.
The line moved, and Emma nudged her bag forward with her foot. She was very conscious of Jack standing close behind her.
The hostess beamed at them. “Hello and welcome. Names, please.”
“Jack Sullivan and Emma Montrose.” Jack stepped abreast of her, taking control and smiling at the hostess.
“Ah, yes. Here we go. Here are your goody bags.” The hostess handed a violet canvas bag to each of them. “Your room assignment and everything you need to know about the resort is in there along with a few surprises.”
“Thanks.” Emma grasped the purple cord handle, a tremor apparent as she stepped over an invisible line—a gateway into sin. She glanced at Jack to find him eyeing her with an inscrutable expression. Emma’s mouth firmed with determination, and her chin shot upward. She could do this. She would do this despite Jack’s silent censure. She intended to complete this assignment to the best of her ability. And, if she managed to make Jack notice her as a female, a hot sexual being, so much the better.
The woman was driving him to drink. In her brief red shorts, and her figure-hugging white shirt, she was a menace to clear thinking. Jack glared at her back as she sashayed along the gangplank to board the ferry. His gaze drifted to her curvy butt, encased in the tight shorts. With the enhanced hearing all taniwhas possessed, he heard the rapid beat of her heart. She wanted him. Suddenly, he had a hard-on to beat all. Deep inside his mind, the dragon clawed for release.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. His head started to swim in an alarming manner. Hell, he couldn’t shift here. Not now, in front of these people. The demand of the dragon pounded him until he trembled with the desire to change to taniwha form or to fuck a woman. Any woman. In the dragon’s mind, these were the sole alternatives.
Jack knew better.
Desperation made his fists bunch and his chest heave as he tried to force oxygen into starved lungs. Concentrate. Focus on something else. Block.
In his mind, he pictured his cat—the scrawny stray that should have known better than to seek refuge with a dragon who wasn’t a vegetarian. The cat had kept coming around anyway. Though damn if he knew when the arrogant black tom had become his cat. Jack snorted under his breath, cursing the taniwha that struggled for dominance. He focused, forcing his mind to change track.
The cat had probably won him over about the time he’d presented Jack with a huge eel in the middle of the night. A gift of the highest magnitude. Yes, that had been the defining moment. Jack centered his mind on the scruffy black cat and fought the dragon that writhed under his skin. The dragon roared in displeasure, the sound echoing through his head. He ached to feel the cool waters of the harbor, the explosive release of sex equally compelling.
You can’t damn well have sex, Jack shouted silently. Behave, dammit. Shit, no wonder he had a headache.
“Are you all right?” A slender hand with pale pink nails touched his forearm. Jack started, his nostrils flaring as her clean floral scent washed over him. His dragon fought briefly then retreated with a snarl.
“I’m fine. Thinking about the case.” Jack didn’t relax an iota. How could he when Emma’s wide-eyed expression screamed innocence? The scent of lavender and roses backed up the veneer of inexperience along with the baby-pink polish painted on her finger and toenails. His gaze drifted up to meet hers.
Whoa, baby. No way was her avid gaze innocent. She puckered her pink lips then her tongue slid out to moisten the plump curves. The dragon roared approval, and his cock stirred again with definite interest. W
ell, hell.
Emma’s intriguing mix of artlessness and pure sex appeal knocked away his previous confidence of his ability to remain detached. This assignment might be the death of him. The dragon wouldn’t let him forget her willingness. Perhaps he should’ve brought the damn cat with him because he was going to be focusing on the furry creature a lot—just in self-defense.
Jack guided Emma to the bow of the boat. It was crowded at present, but once they pulled from the sheltered harbor into the Gulf, the cool sea air and brisk wind would send the passengers scurrying for the warmth of the lounge and bar area. He edged her to the railing and caged her in place with his arms.
Emma jumped and barely bit back a nervous schoolgirl eep. Jack, of course, registered her reaction.
“Quit that. Remember you’re playing the part of my partner.”
“I hate that word.” Emma glanced over her shoulder at him. “What does that mean? When someone refers to their partner.”
He crowded her, gritting his teeth as his cock brushed her ass. “Would you prefer lover?” He relished her shiver, and satisfaction filled him as she tried to edge away. “Take care. We don’t want people to think we’re arguing.”
The number of passengers boarding slowed to a trickle then stopped. Finally, the deckhands released the moorings and the ferry slipped from the berth. Excited chatter filled the deck area where they stood. Jack scanned faces and bodies. Despite the breeze, most of the women were dressed in a similar manner to Emma—shorts and skimpy T-shirts or thin cotton shirts. Shouldn’t be long before they beat a retreat inside out of the wind.
“I thought the weather forecast said fine and sunny.” Emma tried to move. “Can we go inside? It’s cold.”
“I want to discuss the case. Work out a plan of attack.” Jack pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. The taniwha stirred, sighing in pleasure. Jack ruthlessly erected a barrier in his mind, forcing the beast back. Then Jack exhaled too, pushing away the hum of pleasure as her scent filled his senses. No doubt about it. Emma fit his arms perfectly.
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