by Cara Summers
“Got it covered,” Jonah assured him. “Cilla Michaels, I’d like you to meet Carl Rockwell. Not only is he a regular here at Pleasures, but he was one of my original backers when I opened the club. He believed in me when I was an unknown quantity.”
“And I still do,” Carl said.
Jonah smiled at him. “He’s invested in all my clubs, and now he’s a partner in a new place we’re opening in San Diego.”
Cilla held out a hand and found it firmly grasped.
“Cilla heads up G.W. Securities here in the city,” Jonah continued, “and I seem to be her newest client.”
“Good.” Carl stared directly into Cilla’s eyes. “Don’t let anyone hurt him, and let me know if you can use some backup.”
“He’s not kidding,” Jonah said. “Before he retired, Carl worked in the security business.”
“Virgil can let me know if you need me,” Carl said, nodding at the two of them before he returned to the bar.
Jonah led her to an empty booth at the far end of the room. Virgil managed to reach it just as they did.
He beamed a smile at them, then spoke in a low voice. “Does that little sideshow the two of you put on in the street have anything to do with the green box that was delivered here yesterday?”
“Jury’s out on that,” Jonah murmured. “I received another box in Denver this morning.”
“Shit,” Virgil breathed. “What can I do?”
“Exactly what you’re doing. Run Pleasures.”
Cilla studied the two men as Jonah laid a hand on Virgil’s arm and reassured him with the same information he’d given to Carl Rockwell. But he didn’t tell either man that he was definitely her client. “I seem to be” just didn’t make the cut.
She guessed that Virgil had about a decade on Jonah, and from the easy way they talked, she figured their relationship was personal as well as professional. Plus, Virgil was sharp. He’d already tried to connect the dots between the little Christmas gift Jonah had received and the attack.
Virgil turned to her. “If you work for Gabe Wilder, I have to assume you’re the best. What you did out on the street was impressive. But keep it up. Don’t let anything happen to Jonah.” Then he turned and moved back to the bar.
“Well, I’ve been well and duly threatened,” Cilla said as she slid into the back of the booth. “You have some very concerned friends. Does anyone else here know about the green boxes?”
Jonah shook his head. “Just Virgil. I asked him to keep an eye out in case another was delivered here.”
From her position at the back of the booth, Cilla had a view of the entire room. The crowd had thinned a bit so it was the first time that she was able to get a good look at the decor. And since a table now separated her from Jonah, she could give her surroundings more attention than she had on her tour.
The rich combination of dark mahogany and gleaming brass on the bar itself was repeated in the furniture and in the wood panels and sconces that lined the walls. The booths were red leather and the candle flickered in an old-fashioned hurricane lamp.
“What do you think?” Jonah asked.
“Sumptuous. It reminds me of another era where life moved more slowly, before airplanes, when people had the time to travel on a luxury liner to Europe. I got the same impression earlier when I looked up at the second-story windows. It makes me think of the times F. Scott Fitzgerald or Henry James captured in their novels.”
He nodded. “That’s exactly what we’re going for here. Although we don’t expect every one of our customers to name the era or to have read those particular authors.”
“You have, I bet,” Cilla guessed. “What was your major in college?”
“Marketing and Finance, but I minored in English Lit. How about you?”
“Psychology, but I like to read. And I minored in Criminal Justice to pave my way into the police academy.”
“You were a cop?” he asked. Then he said, “Here in San Francisco. That’s how you know Detective Finelli.”
“Right.”
“Why’d you leave?”
“Greener pastures. Plus I had a five-year plan. Get some experience in providing personal security and then open up my own office.”
Jonah’s eyes narrowed. “And running Gabe’s satellite office in San Francisco is part of your five-year plan?”
“It is now.”
Cilla was prevented from giving him more details when Virgil once more appeared at the side of the table. “What can I get for you?”
Jonah met her eyes. “You mentioned champagne earlier. Does that still sound good?”
“Perfect.”
He nodded to Virgil. “We’ll have number thirty-five.”
For one moment, Cilla let herself wish that the circumstances were different, that she was just sitting at a booth in the bar with an exceptionally handsome man, having a drink. If only there weren’t those threatening notes and her decision that Jonah Stone was off-limits, she could have nothing more on her mind than spending another long sexy night with him.
When Virgil moved away, she reluctantly forced her mind back to reality. “I’m not sure what we’re celebrating. I need to tell you what Gabe advises.”
“I got the gist of it—24/7 protection. But I make my own decisions.”
She frowned at him. “He warned me you have an independent streak, but you’re not stupid. You have to be willing to hire private security—at least until we figure out what’s going on here.”
“I’m willing to hire private security.”
“But…?” She leaned forward. “I hear a but in there. G.W. Securities is the best. And Gabe is your friend. Mark Gibbons and David Santos are the two most experienced agents I have working here in San Francisco. Gabe’s even thinking of sending a couple of men in from the Denver office.”
“He can stop thinking about that right now.”
“I don’t…”
Virgil’s appearance had her letting the sentence trail off. While he performed all the rituals surrounding the opening of a champagne bottle and filled two flutes, she marshaled her thoughts. Logic would be the path to take.
The instant Jonah signaled his approval of the wine and Virgil walked away, she said, “You need the best. There’s more going on here than is immediately apparent.”
“What do you mean?”
“The notes you received yesterday and this morning don’t jibe with what went down tonight. Whoever sent them is trying for a cat and mouse game. They’ve set up a ticking-clock scenario—‘so many nights and counting…’ They want you to worry, anticipate.” She waved a hand. “You canceled your plans in Denver and flew back here. What do you want to bet that you’ll get another note soon that will have you flying back to Denver?”
His brows quirked upward. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
She tapped a finger on the table. “That’s why you need some pros—to think that way.”
Jonah studied her. There was determination in her eyes. Priscilla’s eyes, he decided. Logical, focused and a lighter shade of green. Would she taste different if he kissed her now? He was going to find out, he promised himself. But for the moment, he said, “Go on.”
“The ticking clock agenda doesn’t fit with the guys the police just hauled away. They’re grab and go. Instant gratification. They just don’t make a match with that note and the Christmasy way it was wrapped up.”
“I agree. But it’s hard to believe that I have two different people who are out to spoil my holiday.”
“True. But we need to consider the possibility. And that’s exactly why you have to see the wisdom of hiring G.W. Securities. We have the manpower to check it out.”
“I wouldn’t hire anyone but G.W. Securities.” Then he smiled and lifted his glass. “But if I’m taking on a personal bodyguard, 24/7, you’re the one I’m hiring. Not Mark Gibbons or David Santos or anyone Gabe wants to send down from Denver. I want the best of the best.”
He tapped his glass to hers. “And didn’t y
ou already assure me that’s you?”
6
WHILE HER MIND RACED, Cilla took a sip of her champagne. Then for a moment, she allowed herself to be totally distracted by the taste. “This is really good.”
“It’s the best.”
Looking down, she inspected the tiny bubbles. “Don’t tell me number thirty-five is that really, really expensive stuff that retails for a few hundred bucks a bottle.”
Jonah winced. “The winemakers who bottle Cristal would shudder to hear it described that way.”
“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything better.”
“That’s their goal, and they charge a lot when they achieve it.”
Looking up, Cilla couldn’t prevent the smile and felt a little flutter right below her belly when he returned it. “You didn’t have to order something like this. I don’t have what they refer to as an educated palate.”
“I disagree. You knew right away that it was special. And you did say you’ve been thinking for some time of dressing up and coming into Pleasures for a drink. Just think of the Cristal as part of your side trip into a different world.”
Cinderella-land, she reminded herself. With a very dangerous gatekeeper. Who was now a client. Her current job was to convince Jonah Stone that she could do a better job for him if she kept her distance.
But the more time she spent with him, the more she thought of what she could have—what they both could have—if she closed that distance. And looking into his eyes didn’t help one bit because he was thinking the same thing. For an instant, everything around her faded, the noise, the decor, and there was only Jonah.
He was the only one.
No. A sliver of fear shot up her spine. He couldn’t be. She wouldn’t let him. Her mother had believed that each and every time she’d walked down the aisle. Ruthlessly, Cilla tore her gaze from his and took one more sip out of the glass. It truly was better than any champagne she’d ever tasted. And something she would never be able to afford again. That little reality check gave her back her focus.
Then she met Jonah’s eyes. “If you want me to work on this case personally, you have to let me do it my way. The best way that I can protect you is to keep my distance.”
“Explain.”
This was always the tough part in handling a client—knowing which buttons to push. “You’re a businessman. What does your schedule look like tomorrow?”
Jonah pulled out his phone, tapped it a few times and said, “What’s your cell phone number?”
When she gave it to him, he said, “I’m sending it to you right now.”
“Give me the highlights.”
“Since I was still supposed to be in Denver, my morning is free. But now that I’m back in town, I’ll drop by Interludes, my sports club, around lunchtime. They’re hosting a Christmas party for the boys and girls clubs here in the city. Later, I have a meeting here at the St. Francis Hotel with Carl Rockwell and Stanley Rubin. Stanley is my other partner in the San Diego club we’re opening. He’s in town to visit family, and there’s a problem he wants to discuss. I’ll end my day here at Pleasures. We’re busy with parties this time of year.”
“How about the rest of the week?”
“There’s a charity event at Pleasures the night after tomorrow. I’ll be attending.”
She frowned. “That isn’t a good idea.”
“Not negotiable. I’m hosting the event. Bring in some of the cavalry, if you want.”
“I will want. And something like that is all the more reason for me to assign someone else to you.”
When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand. “Let me finish. As a businessman, you know the importance of looking at the whole picture. That’s what I’ll be doing, and in that position, I’ll be free to run down any leads that might turn up, knowing that you’re fully protected.”
“I don’t see why you can’t manage that while you’re with me. That way you can keep me constantly updated on the big picture. I’m going to insist on that.”
She tilted her head to one side and studied him. The glint of humor in his eyes told her that he was being difficult on purpose. And he was enjoying it. Truth told, so was she. She liked matching wits with him. But with Jonah, she had to do more than match. She had to win. So she folded her hands in front of her and met his gaze head-on. “You need someone at your side who can be objective and won’t be distracted. Because of our history and the fact that I’m seriously attracted to you, I’m not the best person for that job.”
He took a sip of champagne and set the glass down. “How seriously?”
She tapped a finger on the table. “See? That’s not the question you should be asking.”
“I’ll ask another one as soon as you answer—how seriously are you attracted to me?”
“Seriously enough that for a moment when you were holding me in your arms out on the street, my mind went blank. There were two guys approaching, one of them was armed, and all I could think of was that I wanted you to kiss me and that I wanted to kiss you right back. That’s a serious problem.”
“A mutual one. Maybe we should just get it out of our systems.”
The humorous glint in his eyes turned reckless and dark. The color made her think of the black smoke that explodes with a spray of sparks from the flames of a bonfire. Hot and dangerous. For the first time in her life, she thought she knew why a moth might be stupid enough to fly into a flame.
She had to fight past the dryness in her throat. “Kissing you again is not going to solve anything.”
He moved quickly then, sliding out of his side of the booth and into hers. Without touching her, he studied her for a moment. “You’re not afraid.”
“No.” That was a lie. She was, just a little. Annoyance added to the mix of everything else she was feeling. He was so close now that she could smell him above the scents in the restaurant. Soap and water and something that was very male. Everything inside her began to melt.
He took a strand of her hair and twisted it around his finger. “You’re not my type.”
She frowned. “Ditto. You’re at the top of my Forbidden Fruit list.”
“Isn’t forbidden fruit even better the second time around? Maybe that’s why I’ve been wanting to taste you again ever since I saw you leaning against my car at the airport.”
When his gaze dropped to her mouth, Cilla could feel her lips actually burn. Good glory, she could only pray they still worked. “Look,” she managed. “Let me work this case the way I want to and we won’t have this problem. You won’t have to worry about wanting to kiss Mark or David. I guarantee it.”
He laughed, a rich, deep sound that helped her to ease back just a little.
“You’re probably right about that.” He fastened those razor-sharp eyes on hers. “You strike me as a practical, focused woman. What we shared in that hotel room might have been a fluke.”
Her brows shot up. “A fluke with a hell of a lot of chemistry that made us both do things…”
“Delightful things.”
“Things that were unwise.”
“If I had a dollar for every unwise thing I’ve ever done…” His lips curved.
And she shouldn’t be watching those lips. She took a deep breath and tried to focus. “The chemistry between us hasn’t died down, and you’re insisting we work together 24/7?”
“Exactly.” He lowered his head just a little. “And I think we ought to find out exactly what we’re up against so we can handle it.”
She wanted to handle it all right. She wanted to handle him. Naked. And dammit, he’d boxed her in. She could smell him, nearly taste him, and she couldn’t shove past him without touching him.
And if she touched him? Oh, hell…
“Handle this,” she said as she clasped the sides of his head and drew his mouth to hers.
At last. At last. At last.
Those were the words that steamed through Jonah’s mind and thrummed in his veins. The memories that had haunted his dreams
for the past weeks vanished in the reality of the moment. How could he have forgotten how soft her lips were? Her flavor was even more exciting than he’d recalled. And the sweetness—surely that was new. It reminded him of ice cream that ran down a cone in the summer heat so that you couldn’t lick it fast enough.
When she opened for him, he used tongue and teeth to take them both deeper. He couldn’t have said who moved first. All he knew was that her strong, slender body was molded to his in a perfect fit. He couldn’t seem to get enough of it as he ran his hands down her sides, then up again to cup her breasts.
The low sound of desperation she made in her throat had his blood racing like a river just before it tumbled over the falls. He knew what it was like to throw caution to the winds, but he’d never wanted so badly to do just that.
He wanted to touch her. No, he needed to touch her, to strip her out of that dress and explore the skin beneath, inch by inch by inch. More than that, he wanted to have her now, right here.
Not possible, he warned himself. He wasn’t so far gone that he’d lost track of his surroundings. Not yet. But he couldn’t seem to control his hands, couldn’t seem to give up her taste.
Even when glass shattered nearby, he had to exert some effort to pull away. And it took even more discipline to drop his hands and ease back from her.
Her eyes were still clouded. And her mouth…
He only had to look at it for the intensity of his desire to spike again. No other woman had ever taken him as far as she had. And he wanted to experience—no, he needed to experience—just how much further they could take each other. He met her eyes. “Come with me now.”
“No.” But she didn’t retreat from him. “I didn’t kiss you and you didn’t kiss me as a prelude to seduction. We did it to clarify the problem. And I’d say mission accomplished. Now you have to agree that I should work this case from a distance. That way we can both think.”
“Distance won’t solve the problem of what we’re thinking about. And thinking about making love again while we’re apart might prove even more of a distraction.”
