He didn’t like the idea of another man touching Lexie at all. That woman had gotten under his skin. His best bet was to talk to her tonight, then pack her up first thing in the morning and get her back to Santa Barbara. Her lawyer had turned out to have some balls and probably a little guilt at not making sure she knew about the missed court date, and he’d negotiated with a sympathetic judge to get Lexie a plea agreement of anger management classes and her solemn promise to stay away from staple guns. The agreement stipulated that Lexie show up in court in five days, and if she didn’t, then she would face a trial and wait it out in jail.
He’d get her there and he’d walk away. That’s what Nick did best. There was nothing that caused him any concern in her room, so he left, letting the automatic lock do its job when he pulled the door closed. He walked on the brick path beneath the lush foliage toward his room. The ocean roared not far away. He thought about getting in some surfing before heading back with Lexie. He rounded the corner of the terra cotta building that held his room and stopped.
The door was propped open a sliver by something wedged in at the bottom. From the green color, he thought it might be the room-service book. He could hear tapping sound of sandals on the tile inside of his room, and the shuffling of papers. The maid didn’t usually wear sandals or shuffle through paperwork.
He sighed, having a pretty good idea who it was in his room. The question was, why? He did a visual sweep of the area, but he didn’t spot anyone. No lookout or any reason to think that someone he’d apprehended in the past had tracked him down for a little revenge. Quietly he walked to the door, which was set back in an arched doorway. He eased it open and stepped inside.
Lexie Rollins stood by his bed, holding the mug shot of herself. She looked up, glared at him, and demanded, “Just what the hell are you and why do you have pictures of me?”
Two
Nick went into his room and shut the door. Lexie wore a light blue sundress dress short enough to show off her long, tanned legs. Jerking his gaze back up her slender, five-foot-seven-inch frame, he focused on her furious chocolate brown eyes. Her silky long brunette hair was pulled back in a ponytail, making her cheekbones more prominent. She might have lost a few pounds, but she was even more pretty and enticing then he remembered. It almost made him forget that he was there as a fugitive recovery agent, not a lover.
He shook it off and moved toward her. Then he saw her hand holding the picture tremble. That brought him to a stop halfway to the bed where she had the stuff spread out. He knew she was angry, but scared? Was she scared of him? “Lexie, I can explain.”
She dropped her gaze to the mug shot the police took the night they’d arrested her. Then she looked up. “Is it you?”
“What?” He didn’t have a clue as to what she was talking about.
She took a breath, forcibly calming herself. “Why are you here? And don’t lie.”
It bothered him that she didn’t trust him. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me a whole hell of a lot about yourself, either.”
True. He didn’t talk about his job with women he was interested in. He kept his life separate. What bothered him was the edge in Lexie’s voice, the fear. He decided the best thing to do was to be straight. Now that Lexie was a job, sex was out of the question. So he told her the truth. “I’m a bounty hunter. Your lawyer pulled some strings and got me hired to bring you back to appear in court in five days. He’s negotiated a good deal for you.”
She stilled like a statue. “A bounty hunter? They are paying you to bring me in? I’m a job?”
What did she expect? Nick couldn’t help but look at her full mouth and remember that kiss. It had taken all the will he had to send her home that night. He’d wanted her, but that kiss was too hot, the chemistry between them too volatile; there was just too much emotion there. And Lexie was too much of a one-man woman. If he’d taken her back to his hotel, then walked out in the morning, she’d have been left hurt.
And he’d have been left feeling like a jerk. So he did the right thing.
Now she looked hurt anyway. Or was that skeptical? Maybe she didn’t believe him. “I’m doing you a favor,” he said gruffly. “Another bounty hunter might be rough, or…hell.” He ran his hand through his hair.
“A favor? By following me, having pictures of me…” She trailed off.
He didn’t know what the hell she was thinking, so he took a guess. “Look, you don’t have to go to jail. We’ll leave in the morning, get to Santa Barbara in a few hours, and clean this mess up. You’ll be fine.”
“And you’ll get paid for doing me a favor.” She turned away from him and dropped the picture on the bed.
Her voice was thin, her bare shoulders tight. There was something else going on here. A dark idea settled in his chest. “That man that you attacked with the staple gun, did he hurt you?”
“No.” He watched her back expand as she took a breath. Then she turned, her face grim. “I’ll be back in time for the court hearing. Your job is over; you can leave.” She walked, making a wide arc around him to head for the door.
Her sandals clicked on the tile and sent echoes of unease into the base of his skull. What was he missing? He couldn’t let her go. He moved fast, getting to the door before she could open it. “Lexie, stop.” He leaned over her, putting his hand on the door. The scent of a flowery lotion, warmed by her body, assaulted him. He had to think. “What are you doing in my room? How did you get in?”
She stared at the door, her fingers around the handle. “I saw you here and didn’t think it was a coincidence. Let me go.”
“My room was locked.”
“I’m resourceful.”
He nodded to himself, thinking she’d done the same thing he had and gotten a maid to let her in. But why? What made her worried enough to sneak into his room to find out why he was there? “Why didn’t you just ask me? I planned to find you and talk to you tonight anyway.” He didn’t remember her being this paranoid or suspicious.
Her shoulders dropped. “Just cautious. Let me out of the room, Nick.”
The fear in her voice cut him. Jesus. “Not until you tell me what the hell you’re afraid of. Now.”
“Nothing. But I’m not going back yet.”
He was done talking to her ponytail. Taking his hand off the door, he reached for her arm.
She jerked, whirling around with her eyes wide. “Let go!”
Startled, he dropped her arm. “What the hell? I’m not going to hurt you. I—”
“Don’t touch me.” Her voice quavered.
Nick took a breath to calm down. It was clear to him that Lexie Rollins was on her last nerve. Scared, maybe even terrified. He’d seen her handle four long days of temper tantrums, wedding-dress disasters, last-minute changes, all the dramas that went with weddings, and she hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Right now she looked at him like he might be a monster. What the hell had scared her? He didn’t believe for a second she’d had a breakdown, but she was scared. Stepping to the side, he said quietly, “Go sit down. I won’t touch you.”
“I’m leaving.”
He sighed. “Then I’ll touch you. I won’t hurt you, but I will stop you from leaving.”
She leaned back against the door. “It’s not you stalking me, is it?”
Nick blinked. “Stalking you? Like following your trail because I’m a bounty hunter and that’s my job, kind of stalking you?”
“Like getting into my apartment, leaving my laptop on, opening my mail, taking underwear…” She clenched her jaw, then added, “Making countless phone calls from different phone numbers and hanging up. Coming into my apartment while I’m in the shower and dumping all my underwear all over my bedroom…I heard someone in my apartment, but by the time I got out of the shower and dressed, they were gone. Just the underwear all over…” She shivered and crossed her arms tightly. “The last straw was finding a note on my car that said, ‘Die, bitch.’”
<
br /> Shit, now her fear made sense. “Jesus,” he swore and strode to the bed, then quickly sorted through the paperwork he had on her until he came up with the bond piece. Going back, he handed it to her. “I’m not stalking you. This is what the bond company issues to give me the authority to find you and bring you in.”
She took the paper and read it, her mouth thinning in more frustration.
He asked, “If you’re being stalked, why haven’t you gone to the police?”
Handing the paper back, she leveled her tired gaze on him. “I told them, but it was after the assault charge and they seemed to think I was inventing stories to get the charges dropped. I told them one thing had nothing to do with the other, but they seemed to think I was building some kind of stress defense. Especially since the note on my car was written on my own stationery from my apartment.”
“So you saw me here and—” He didn’t need to finish. He got the picture. She was scared but no one believed her. Her own lawyer had told Nick she was unstable. To keep from touching her, he moved to the bed to drop the bond piece onto the pile of papers and photos. “Your family?”
“They think I’m trying to get out of work.” She pushed off the door and stood up straight. “But I’m handling it. I’ve hired a PI to watch my apartment while I’m gone. He’ll catch the stalker and then I’ll go back to Santa Barbara for my court date. You’ll get your money. Good night.” She turned and reached for the door.
“You should have called me.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was stupid. But he was feeling very protective, although he was baffled as to why.
She looked back at him. “For what? A night of sex? And how would I call you, Nick? Look you up under one-night stands in the phone book?”
He winced. Since all he’d ever offered her was sex, and no details about his career, she’d had no reason to think he would or could help her—although as resourceful as she obviously was, she could have gotten his number from his sister. “I deserved that. But I’m here now and I’m going to help you.”
Anger narrowed her gaze. She dropped the door handle and turned. “Are you worried I’m going to disappear and you’ll be out your bounty hunting fee?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Honey, I hate to break it to you, but you’re not worth enough money to bother with.”
“Then stop bothering!” She turned again, heading back for the door.
Damn, she had to be getting dizzy with the rushing back and forth. He understood her stress, but she needed to trust him—he wasn’t the enemy. Nor could he let her walk out. “I’m not going to let you leave my room. If you open that door, I’m going to assume you want my hands on you.” He had no idea how she would react.
She halted a foot from the door and turned, her brown gaze meeting his. In a soft voice, she said, “Maybe I do.”
Unfolding his arms, he frowned and wondered what the hell she meant. “Do what?”
She shook her head, looking like she’d do anything to take back her words.
She looked beautiful and…raw. Needy. Yet so alone it made him mad, frustrated, and determined. “Don’t lie to me now.” He advanced on her, and he was going to be ticked if she dared to be afraid of him. He’d understood it when she didn’t know why he was there, but now she did know.
She leaned back slightly. “I guess I haven’t forgotten that kiss.”
He smiled then. “Good to know I’m not the only one.”
“But you weren’t interested after you kissed me.”
That surprised the hell out of him. “What gave you that idea?”
“You told me to go home.”
Women. Christ. “You told me no. One kiss and you were reconsidering—we both know you would have regretted that.”
She leaned the back of her head against the door and smiled. “Ha. I scared you.”
That made him grin. “Yeah. I think you did. You’re not an easy woman to walk away from.”
She shrugged. “Okay, bounty hunter, what now? If you won’t let me leave, and I won’t go back to Santa Barbara with you, we seem to be at a stand-off.”
He put his hand on the door over her head and leaned close to her face. “You’re in my custody now. That’ll get the lawyers and bail bondsmen to shut up for a few days. Together we’ll figure out how to deal with your stalker.”
Lexie’s fingers tapped out a steady rhythm on the keyboard of her laptop. The night was quiet, and through the closed door she could hear the waves crashing against the shore. She considered opening the sliding glass door to let in the sea breeze, but that didn’t seem wise at one A.M.
Every sentence she typed increased her sense of accomplishment. She was heading into the home stretch of her book. Her heroine’s life hung in the balance, as did those of the hostages. Even she was on edge, and she knew the outcome—she knew the heroine would live.
Unfortunately one or two of the hostages would die, but…
A squeak and click startled the bejeebers out of her. Jerking her head up from staring at the screen, she tried to place the noise. Her heart banged against her chest wall. What was that?
She didn’t hear anything else. She wasn’t even sure what direction the noise came from. The door to the room was on the left of where she sat on the bed, propped up by pillows. The sliding glass door covered with blackout drapes was on her right. The room was large, with the walls done in a hand-troweled texture of green and white. There was mosaic tile on the floor, with colorful rugs. The tile could make the room echo, especially in the quiet of the night.
Her heart rate calmed down.
With her attention diverted from her book, her mind wandered to Nick.
Nick Vardolous. Here. At Sand Castle Resort. And he was hotter than she remembered. Those eyes…oh hell, all of him. He’d been her fantasy man since that kiss. A safe man to fantasize about, but she hadn’t expected to meet up with him again.
It rankled that she was nothing more than a job to him. Which she knew was ridiculous. They hadn’t had a relationship; they hadn’t even had sex.
At least he had believed her when she told him about her stalker. Then he’d checked out her private investigator, Tate Zuckerman, and told her she’d made an excellent choice. He treated her like an intelligent woman, although he had insisted on checking out her room for any danger, then confiscated her car keys before he agreed to leave her in her room.
Nick. He did something to her, made her feel safe and sexy. That kind of charm should be…
A tapping noise scared the hell out of her. She shoved her laptop off her legs and leaped off the bed.
What was it? It came from the patio sliding glass door. Was someone out there?
Her heart pounded in her ears, her blood rushing so fast she was dizzy. Standing on the cold tile floor, she sucked in a breath. Think.
Thunk, thunk, thunk.
Oh God! Someone was out there! Nine-one-one was the first thing she thought.
Then Nick. He was closer. She grabbed the phone and dialed his room number.
He answered on the first ring. “Vardolous.”
“Nick! It’s Lexie. Someone is pounding on my sliding glass door. I don’t…”
“On my way.” He hung up.
The sliding glass door rattled. Someone was trying to open it, but it was locked. Then a voice called out, “I know you’re awake! I see the light on!”
She didn’t recognize the voice. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself and backing up until she felt the solid wall behind her. Was it her stalker? Maybe a random killer?
He yelled again, “I just want to talk to—oomph!”
Lexie blinked and leaned forward. All she could hear was shuffling and a thump. Nick?
Her phone rang. The shrill sound arrowed right through her. Grabbing it, she said, “What?”
Nick answered, “Lexie, it’s me. I have the guy. He has press credentials.”
“A reporter?” Her voice climbed as the adrenaline spiked in her bloodstream.
“Oh. Okay. Thank you, I—”
“Open your door.”
“My door?”
“I’m right outside your door. Not the slider, the door. Check the peephole, then open it.”
She was standing by the door and did as he instructed. Nick stood there with his cell phone to his ear. She hung up the phone, undid the locks, and opened it.
He closed his phone, walked in, and shut the door behind him.
Lexie backed up and stared. Nick took up a lot of room. He was half naked, only wearing a pair of loose-fit jeans hanging low on his hips. His black hair was tousled and his jaw shadowed with a dark beard that set off his green bedroom eyes. In the glow of her bedside lamp, his gold-toned skin stretched over some serious muscle in his shoulders and chest. He looked hot and tasty. It had to be some kind of adrenaline high channeling her thoughts to naked skin and sizzling sex. She forced herself to get under control.
“You okay?” His voice was low and tight.
No. She wasn’t okay. Stalkers, getting arrested, a ticked-off family, drunk reporters, and a way-too-sexy bounty hunter were ripping away control over her own life. She was tired, scared, lonely, and stunned that Nick came to her rescue. She couldn’t remember anyone ever doing that for her. It was always Lexie who fixed things.
“Lexie?”
She had to pull herself together. “Sure. I’m fine. I’m always fine. It’s a family rule…” Jeez, that made no freaking sense. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the wall and brought her hand up to rub her eyes. “Sorry, I’m a little rattled, but fine. Thank you for dealing with this for me. I realize now I could have just called security myself. Sorry I bothered you.”
“Now you’re pissing me off.”
No big surprise there. She dropped her hand and opened her eyes. “You’re going to have to get in line.”
Nick drew his eyebrows together in a thunderous expression. “Say what?”
“There’s a line of people mad at me.” Why didn’t she just shut up? And why did Nick have to look so hot? She dropped her gaze to his seriously ripped chest. He had sinewy muscles, not the gym kind, but the lean muscle of an active man. The deep urge to lean on some of that muscle was an unexpected weakness. A new weakness, that’s great, just what she needed—a bad case of Man Hungry on top of everything else. It’d been almost a year since she’d felt a man wrap his body around hers, slide inside her, make her feel valuable and real.
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