Sexy Silent Nights

by Cara Summers

  Cilla should have been prepared for the kiss. After all, she’d started it with the playacting. She’d sensed the fury in him and she’d wanted to deflect it. Mission accomplished.

  When he nipped her bottom lip and tightened his grip on her waist, heat streaked to her toes. Confession time.

  She hadn’t just wanted to deflect his temper. She’d wanted this. The fire streaking along her nerve endings, the glorious spiral of pleasure.

  This was the kiss she’d wanted in the taxi, the one that she’d been hungering for the whole time she was watching him on that big screen at Interludes. There was no teasing, no gentle exploration, just raw demand. And all she wanted to do was meet it.

  When his hands tightened again at her waist, she slid her own into his hair and moved in until her body was fully pressed against his. Then he lifted her off her feet.

  All she could do was feel—the hard length of his thigh, the sharp angle of his hip, the quick beat of his heart. All she could hear was the hammering of her own heart—so loud that she wondered why people didn’t run out of their rooms to quiet the racket.

  Touch me. She wanted to shout it and hoped she hadn’t. She should pull back. There was still a sane part of her mind that registered whispers and the giggle of a child. She was vaguely aware of the whoosh of elevator doors opening, people moving away, doors sliding shut again. But when he started to draw back, she gripped him even harder and took his mouth with hers.

  Doors whooshed again, and she registered the sound of a gasp, then a deep chuckle.

  “C’mon, Amanda, let’s give the nice couple some privacy.”

  She drew back then and found that she was looking right into Jonah’s eyes. What she saw—the heat, the recklessness—nearly had her damning the consequences and going back for more.

  Someone coughed. “If you want, boss, I can get the two of you a room. We did a favor for one of the managers here a couple months ago.”

  Mark Gibbons. She’d forgotten he was there. He was standing right behind Jonah, holding the doors of the elevator open. He’d seen everything. Embarrassment gave her the strength to release Jonah and get her feet fully on the ground. Not that she could feel them. But they did their job and propelled her into the elevator.

  Jonah and Mark followed.

  Punching the button for the lobby, she prayed that her voice would work. “We won’t need a room. That was—” Several words flashed into her mind. A mistake? A show for anyone watching? The closest she’d ever come to having sex in a public place?

  All of the above?

  “Absolutely delightful,” Jonah said, squeezing her hand.

  She managed to shoot a glare at him before she said, “Can you stop the elevator before anyone else gets on?”

  “Sure.” He reached out and pushed a button. The car shuddered a little as it stopped.

  Cilla turned to Gibbons. “With three of us watching, someone got this little gift bag into the Rubins’ suite.” She opened the bag so that Gibbons could see the green box. “I want to spread out our manpower. Someone gave it to the room service waiter and told him it was a surprise for Mr. Stone. I want you to find out what that waiter can remember and get a description.”

  “Maybe after our friend Tank delivered one box to the bell captain, he snuck back into the hotel through a service entrance and Santos missed him,” Mark commented.

  “That’s what we want to verify, and a description would help.”

  Jonah leaned back against the door of the elevator and watched Cilla slip into Priscilla mode. Because the walls of the car had mirrors, he could see more than one of her as she fisted her hand on her hip and used the limited space to pace. He knew that she’d been just as affected by that kiss as he had. Her cheeks were still flushed, her voice just a little bit breathless. God, he had to admire the way she was able to snap right back into ace security agent.

  “I want Santos to go back to the office and do some research on what was going on here in San Francisco at Christmastime six years ago,” Cilla said. “Gabe has someone in his office digging into missing persons, mysterious deaths, etcetera in Denver, but maybe the motivation for the revenge is here and not in Denver. I’ll contact Finelli and ask him to check into missing persons and unsolved and solved murders in December 2005.”

  Gibbons glanced down at the gift bag. “You going to wait for Santos to give you the other box and open them together?”

  “I’m going to wait until we’re clear of this place before we open either one. Once we get to the lobby, Jonah and I are going out the side entrance. I’ll make sure we’re not being followed before I hail a cab.” She lifted the bag. “We’ll take this and the other one to the office. Join us there when you’re through.”

  “Why don’t we meet at Pleasures instead?” Jonah asked. “We can all grab a bite to eat.” He met Gibbons’s eyes. “And I can assure you that the security at my club is excellent. Better than a nearly empty office building.”

  “Good point.”

  Jonah reached out and punched the button. A few seconds later, the doors opened and a family of five poured in. Once they alighted from the elevator in the lobby, Cilla waited only long enough for David Santos to hand her the other gift bag before pulling Jonah with her toward the side exit and out into the street. Darkness had settled over the city, but the pedestrian traffic was still heavy, and Cilla set a fast pace. She was angry. He could feel it radiating off her in waves, but she was not letting her emotions interfere with her job.

  First she used her cell to call someone named T.D. Whoever it was made her laugh. The rich sound of it left that coppery taste in his mouth again. Next she called Finelli and told him what she needed. All the while, the path she cut through the heavy pedestrian traffic had them hugging the buildings, and at each intersection, she took a quick scan of the crowd behind them.

  But she was ignoring the taxis.

  “I know you’re angry, partner. But don’t you think it’s time you filled me in on your plan? What are we doing?”

  “Exactly what I said. I’m getting you away from the St. Francis without a tail.”

  “We’re a good five blocks away from the hotel, and you haven’t flagged a taxi yet.”

  “Sorry.” She took a deep breath and let it out, and for the first time slowed their pace a bit. “You’re right, I am angry. I got angry the instant Glenda handed you the gift bag and I saw another green box.”

  Remembering his own instant flash of blinding fury, he took her hand and squeezed it.

  “If I hadn’t been angry, I never would have…we never would have…”

  “Kissed? But you complained that I didn’t kiss you in the taxi.”

  “We shouldn’t have kissed like that.” At the corner, she swept her gaze to their rear, then strode into the street. “People were watching us. Mark was watching us.”

  “Well, I’m open to experimenting with other methods. Other techniques. Anytime.”

  She tried for a quelling look, but she had to swallow a sudden urge to laugh. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  He smiled at her. “I’ll have to persuade you, then.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were interested in my plan.”

  “I’m interested in that, too.”

  This time the laugh escaped and some of her tension eased. “I made arrangements earlier for different transportation from the hotel.”

  “Different?”

  “A friend of mine, T. D. Walters, is a partner in a private limo service.”

  He pulled her into the entranceway of a shop. “And just who is T.D.?”

  She cocked her head to the side and studied him. “If it wasn’t such a ridiculous idea, I’d say you were jealous.”

  “That is a ridiculous idea.” But it didn’t make it less true, Jonah decided.

  “T.D. is a friend of mine.” This time she spaced the words as if she were speaking to someone who didn’t understand English. “When I worked for the SFPD, he was my fir
st snitch. T.D. stands for Top Dog. I like him a lot, but he’s not my type.”

  “I’m not your type, either.”

  She smiled at him. “Then the two of you should become best buds.” After taking a quick scan of the street, she led the way onto the sidewalk again.

  “I called T.D. when we were at Interludes because I wanted to have a backup plan. Getting into a taxi in front of the St. Francis at this time of day makes it much too easy for someone to follow us.” She waved a hand toward the bumper-to-bumper traffic on the street. “And this kind of congestion makes it all but impossible to lose a tail.”

  “But you didn’t tell Gibbons or Santos about your limo plan.”

  “No. I wasn’t sure I was going to use it. But I had a feeling we were being watched from the time we got to the hotel. Tank is still on the loose out there. And I’m more convinced than ever that he’s working with someone.”

  She lifted the gift bags. “It doesn’t take a Sherlock or a Watson to figure out where you’re going to be today and that you’ll eventually end up at Pleasures. Which has me wondering why the guy is choosing such public places to deliver the notes.”

  “A police station and the St. Francis when it would have been easier to drop them off at Interludes or even at Pleasures. My guess is he wants to show off how clever he is.”

  “And how vulnerable you are,” she said. “He wants you to know he can find you anywhere.”

  “So when two boxes turn up at the St. Francis, the limo goes from being backup to Plan A,” Jonah mused. “You want to show him he isn’t as clever as he thinks he is.”

  “What I want to do is stop him.”

  He heard the anger flare in her voice again. Glancing at her, he watched her tamp it down and shrug it off. “And call me paranoid, but I don’t want to give him a chance to watch while you open these. I think he likes to watch. That’s another reason to choose public spaces to deliver the boxes.”

  Jonah thought of the detonator the police had found in the stairwell of the garage and of how many eyes would have been on them if he’d opened the boxes in the lobby or in the long taxi line in front of the hotel.

  “We won’t have to worry about watchers in the backseat of T.D.’s limo,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  A stinging mist had begun to fall. More than a few pedestrians had pulled out umbrellas. When they stopped for a red light at the corner, he said, “You didn’t want me to open the box and read the note in the elevator in front of Gibbons, either. Do you suspect that he or Santos might be involved in what’s going on?”

  “No.” The look she shot him was one of surprise, but then she sighed. “I hate the fact that I even considered it. Or that I talked to Gabe about it. But he was already on it.”

  “I’m not surprised. I’ve considered them also. I can tell you that I don’t think Gibbons is mixed up in this—even though he was working for G.W. Securities six years ago.”

  “Gabe says Santos was in the Marines six years ago and he worked with explosives. But there doesn’t seem to be any connection to you.”

  “Has Gabe found any trace of my father?”

  She sent him a sideways glance. “He thinks I ought to put you on that because you have superior skills at hacking.”

  “I can’t imagine that someone who vanished from my life over twenty years ago would be interested enough to come back now. If he’s even alive. When we get to the point that we’re grasping at straws, I may give it a whirl.”

  “We could be approaching that point. Whoever is sending these little gifts is stepping up his game. It’s still four nights before Christmas and he’s given you three green boxes today.”

  He’d already given some thought to that himself. “He doesn’t have to send just one note a day.” He squeezed her hand. “We’re going to figure this out.”

  “Okay. Okay. T.D. should be waiting for us up the block.”

  Top Dog Walters was just where he’d said he’d be, standing by the side of the limo when they turned into the alley. He was a large, powerfully built man with black hair that he wore pulled sleekly back into a pony-tail. In the light thrown by the headlights, Cilla couldn’t help but admire the neatly pressed chauffeur’s uniform. It was a far cry from the ripped T-shirt and threadbare jeans she’d first seen him wearing during her days as a street cop.

  There was more bling, too. He’d always favored a few earrings, but she was sure she spotted a new gold chain around his neck. The gold ring on his finger she’d seen before. In fact she’d watched his bride place it on his hand two years ago.

  By the time she and Jonah reached him, he had the back door open. Then without further ado, he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a huge hug. “Sugar, it’s been too long.”

  Releasing Cilla, he extended his hand to Jonah. “I’m T.D. Walters, by the way. And she saved my life.”

  Jonah shook the offered hand. “Jonah Stone. She may be in the process of saving mine.”

  “I didn’t save T.D.’s life. I merely saw his potential and introduced him to a friend who saw even more potential.” Cilla poked a finger into T.D.’s chest. “And it didn’t hurt your upward mobility that you married the boss’s daughter. How’s the new baby?”

  “Beautiful, but she doesn’t sleep much.”

  “I’ve heard that about a lot of babies.” She gestured for Jonah to get into the limo first, then followed him. When T.D. had climbed behind the wheel, she said, “This is lovely, T.D. And it still has that new leather smell.”

  Turning in his seat, he beamed her a smile. “It’s our top-of-the-line model. You can see out, but no one can see in. There’s hot coffee in a thermos, wine, champagne, and there are some snacks in the cooler. Help yourself. I’ll drive around. When you decide on a destination, let me know through the intercom.” Then he pressed a button and the privacy screen lowered.

  When the engine hummed to life and the limo started to move slowly forward, Cilla allowed herself one moment to lean back against the seat.

  “Perfect plan, partner.” Jonah reached over the two gift bags that lay on the seat between them and took her hand. “This is much better than the backseat of a taxi and we don’t even have to break our ground rules.”

  “We don’t?” Lord knew she wanted to, and what she saw in his eyes had her wondering why she’d ever established them in the first place.

  “We agreed that making love again had to remain in the backseat until we solved the case.” He gestured with his free hand. “This qualifies as a backseat, so I think we’re good. But you’ll probably want to open these boxes first.”

  It was more than heat she saw in his eyes. There was humor and intelligence and an understanding that she’d never hoped to see. Never realized she wanted to see.

  Releasing her hand, Jonah opened the box closest to him and read the note aloud, “‘It’s still four nights and counting. Have you remembered yet why you have to die?’”

  Fear knotted in her stomach as she met his eyes again. “I’d say that was more than mildly threatening.”

  “As you said, he’s stepping up his game.” He lifted the second bag and was about to take out the green box when he suddenly frowned. “There’s a tag on the bag. I didn’t notice it earlier.” Opening it, he held it for her to see. “It has your name on it.”

  Cilla thought back to the few minutes in the foyer when Glenda turned away to pick up the gift bag. She’d been totally focused on getting Jonah out of there. “Glenda said it was a surprise for Mr. Stone.”

  Jonah already had the box on his lap and was untying the ribbon. Inside was the same piece of folded, cream-colored paper that had been in the other four boxes. He flipped it open, then took her hand and held it as they read it together.

  One night and counting… You’ve interfered with my mission for the last time. It’s too bad that you won’t live to see what I have in store for Jonah Stone.

  12

  “THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING,” Jonah said.

  �
�No.” But for a second she couldn’t unglue her eyes from the note.

  One night and counting…

  She forced herself to think and was pleased that her hand didn’t tremble as she carefully took the note, refolded it and placed it back in the green box. “It just means he’s modified his plan.”

  “Modified?” Jonah took the box from her hands and put it on the leather banquette that ran along the side of the limo. Then he took her shoulders and turned her to face him. “That note is a death threat. That bastard is going to try to take you out.”

  She met his eyes. The fear she saw beneath the fury helped her settle and focus. “Try is the operative word. He’s not going to succeed.”

  He gave her a little shake. “He sure as hell isn’t. He isn’t even going to get to try.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Gabe. He can send someone else out here. You’re going to disappear until this is over.”

  She brought the edge of her hand down hard on his wrist. The instant the cell phone dropped to the floor, she kicked it out of reach.

  “Stuff that idea, partner. And if you go after the phone, I may have to really hurt you.”

  There was still anger in his eyes when he turned to face her, but she had his attention. And he was rubbing his wrist. “I want you out of this.”

  “And I’ve always wanted Santa Claus to be real. That’s why I love the movie Miracle on 34th Street. You’ll have to learn to live with the fact that I’m staying in.” She poked a finger into his chest. “And you have only yourself to blame.”

  He frowned. “I know I’m to blame. I insisted you work on this, and now the guy wants to get rid of you so he can make a run at me.”

  She opened her mouth, then shut it. “I’m beginning to think that’s not all of it.”

  “No, now he wants you.”

  “Not just that, either. He has this long-term plan to make you count down the six nights before Christmas. To make you wait and wonder and suffer before he makes his run. At the same time, he’s giving the best security agency on this side of the country six days—now four—to track him down.”

  “What are you saying?”