by Janzen, Tara
Now Cooper Daniels was touching her, his hand on her waist, his breath on her nape, his chest warm and solid against her back, and all she could remember was that she was a woman. It was nerve-racking, unsettling, and sinfully exciting.
His hand slid up the curve of her hip again, and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from making any sound. He had her trapped between his body and the back of the couch, surrounding her with his maleness and weaving a spell with his caress. She had to get up.
“Excuse me,” she said so quietly she barely heard herself. Regardless of her abruptness, she hoped he would take the hint and move.
He didn’t. His hand tightened and held her steady as he shifted his weight more fully against her. She caught her breath on a soft gasp, stunned by what she felt. He was aroused, the hard length of him pressed against her buttocks.
“You’re so damn nice to hold,” he said huskily.
“You—you can’t do that here.” Good Lord. They were in her brother’s house, in the forest of the living room—yet despite the obvious constraints, she was on the receiving end of a quiet, inexorable seduction.
“I know,” he whispered just before his mouth came down, warm, wet, and open on her neck.
Melting heat swept through her body. She groaned aloud, and his breathing grew ragged.
He gnawed on her delicate skin, running his tongue across her neck to soothe the love bites he gave. He was both rough in communicating his needs and gentle in eliciting her response, kissing her and shifting her in his arms until he could claim her mouth. When she was beneath him, he covered her completely, his size and weight controlling her with a tantalizing tenderness.
He felt like heaven, moving over her, using his body to tease and incite. His hand was under her T-shirt, cupping her breast and sending a wave of desire to pool in her loins. She’d forgotten how hot a man’s hand could be. She’d forgotten how erotic it was to be wanted, how a man’s needs could act as a catalyst to awaken long-lost passions. He rocked against her in the most primal of rhythms, and she wanted nothing more than to open herself to him, to welcome him into her core.
She grasped his shoulders, her fingers digging into his shirt, and he angled his mouth over hers for a deeper kiss.
It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough as long as it was just a kiss. Cooper kept himself on the edge of no return, knowing there was no way on Earth he was going to get too much closer to what he wanted.
He wanted her. He wanted her with an ache he could feel right down through the center of his body, with the heaviest ache between his legs. He was hard . . . and she was so damn soft.
He broke off the kiss with a muttered curse.
His labored breathing filled the space between them, making him feel like a fool. He should have known she would go to his head like a fine wine cut with grain alcohol. He swore again, looking down into the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. They were languorous and confused, wanting what he wanted, but she had the same damn reasons for stopping that he had.
“Do I have a chance in hell of getting into your pants tonight?” He’d had to ask. He knew he’d put it crudely, but that was his only defense against the sure rejection.
She shook her head, and he could see tears forming in those beautiful, cinnamon-colored eyes. Women.
He wasn’t angry with her. He was angry with himself.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to get in mine for about five minutes?”
“And do what?” she asked, obviously shocked, her eyes widening with surprise.
The ingenuousness of her question brought a much-needed grin to his mouth. At least she wasn’t going to cry now.
“You’re a smart lady, Jessie. I bet if you give it a little thought, you’ll come up with something.”
She blushed, and his grin broadened.
His smile was short-lived, though, lasting no longer than it took him to feel her next breath bring them closer. He rolled off her before he forgot he had a few rules of his own when it came to women. He’d kissed her three times, and when he thought about it, he realized she’d either cried or been on the verge of tears all three times. That told him something he ought not forget.
He understood how sex might be considered physically threatening by a woman. He even understood how it could be emotionally threatening. In truth, he understood the emotional threat better than the physical threat, having experienced it himself. He did not understand why kissing would make a woman cry, and he wondered how many times he’d have to kiss her before he found out.
“Would you like some tea?” he asked, keeping his distance by walking to the other side of the cheetah table.
“No,” she said, and he could hear her straightening her clothes as she stood up. “I think I’ll go sleep in Christina’s room.”
He turned and watched her as she left, her silhouette making a shadow in the doorway in the instant before she was gone. It was a sensible plan, he thought. She’d be safe in there, safe from him.
* * *
They both looked like hell, like two people who hadn’t gotten much sleep, and there wasn’t a person milling around the kitchen who didn’t have something to say about one or the other of them.
“You kinda look like a raccoon, Mom,” Eric said, “with that dark smudge sitting under your eyeballs.” He tilted his head back and gave her a scrunched-up scrutinizing. “It’s neat.”
“Thank you, honey. Eat your granola.” Jessica sighed and continued rummaging through her purse, looking for the extra-strength aspirin she kept there. Children were so beautifully, simply, painfully honest. A mother’s self-esteem didn’t stand a chance.
Shoving aside her key ring with a small flashlight attachment and the paperback she always kept handy in case she got caught in traffic, she finally found the plastic bottle she was looking for.
“The woman is out back on the patio, Cooper,” John Liu said, referring to Cao Bo. “She seems recovered from her ordeal. If you think you’re up to it, we could talk to her now.” A mischievous wryness shaded his voice. Cooper gave him a drop-dead dragon glare.
Jessica didn’t bother to hide a tired grin at his expense. His irritability was the only solace available for her wounded ego. They’d gone further than a kiss in the night, and she was trying to figure out why. She was a mother, and mothers didn’t neck on couches.
He and John refilled their coffee cups on their way out the door, with Cooper taking an extra cup for the messenger.
Jessica got up from the table and warmed her own cup, watching the two men walk across the first patio and drop down a couple of steps to the second level. Ms. Cao awaited them there under the shade of a tan-oak tree. Cooper really did look like hell. His hair was sticking up from all the times he’d plowed his fingers through it. Beard stubble darkened his jaw, and his clothes were wrinkled.
“Looks like he had a rough night,” Tony said conversationally, coming up behind her and pouring himself a cup of coffee.
Jessica made a noncommittal reply.
“Hmm.” Tony took his first sip, then said, “You don’t look so good yourself.”
“Thank you.”
“I guess you should know Paul set him straight this morning,” her brother said, reaching over her head for a cereal bowl.
She shot him a wary glance. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t worry. He did it nicely.”
“Did what?” She hardly dared to ask.
“Told him about Ian.”
Great, Jessica thought, not bothering to sputter out her indignation. Now her humiliation was perfectly complete. Someday Paul would grow up and realize that being the oldest man living in the house did not make him the oldest, most responsible person living in the house. He was her little brother, not her father. Macho posturing had its unbearable moments, and this was one of them.
“I don’t know why he bothered,” Tony continued, rustling around in the cupboard for his favorite cereal. “Looks to me like you and Cooper have it all figur
ed out.”
Jessica had no idea what he meant, and even though she was dying to ask for an explanation, she didn’t have enough courage to listen to his answer. She kept her reply short and off the subject.
“Eric has the granola on the table.”
“Oh.” Tony looked over his shoulder toward his nephew. “Thanks. Hey, shortstuff, you better go get your school clothes on. Tell Christina we’re leaving here in ten minutes.”
“Okay, Uncle Tony.” Eric got up from the table, his last piece of jelly toast in his hand, and ran over to wrap himself around his mother’s legs. “I missed you, when you were gone, Mom.”
Jessica leaned down and kissed his honey-blond head. “I missed you too, sweetheart. We’ll do something fun together on Saturday, just you and me, so think up some ideas. Okay?”
“Okay, Mom.” He raised his face to give her a toast-crumb-and-jelly kiss on the cheek.
After he’d left the kitchen, she looked over and caught Tony’s eye.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she said.
He shrugged. “Not as sorry as your boss will be if anything happens to you or one of the kids because of his business problems.”
“I should have known better than to bring the woman home.”
“I’m not sure you had much choice, Jessie. She was sick, exhausted, and she wouldn’t go anyplace else. Sometimes we have to make decisions we’d rather not have to make. This one should turn out okay. When I called Luke last night, he started a quiet investigation to have Cao Bo checked out from Immigration to Chinatown. If anything turns up, he’ll be on it.”
Jessica nodded her thanks. Their oldest brother, Luke, was a detective with the San Francisco Police Department, with enough years behind him to have a net of connections stretching across the Pacific Rim. If Cao Bo had brought trouble with her, Luke would find out about it.
“I’ll call him later to see if he’s come up with anything,” she said.
“Okay, Jess. There’s one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“About John Liu and Yuxi. Why did you have Cooper bring them in? You know nothing could happen around here that you and I and Paul can’t handle.”
“I know. I just thought we’d all be safer with another line of defense in the house.”
“We,” he asked, “as in you, me, Paul, and the kids? Or we as in Cooper Daniels?”
Jessica took a sip of coffee, hiding behind her cup and wondering if she had any secrets left at all.
“Well, Jess?” Tony pushed for an answer to his question.
“He’s in trouble,” she admitted. “He needs help, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“I would hate to see you get hurt,” Tony said, his voice growing soft and his eyes looking wiser than their years.
“Me, too.”
“Do you care that much?”
“I shouldn’t,” she said, lowering her gaze.
She heard him rise from the table and walk across the kitchen floor. He stopped and gave her a quick hug on his way out, but she couldn’t tell if he was giving her support or consolation.
She definitely felt like she needed both. Cooper had done nothing but aggravate her and set her off from the first moment they’d met, and drive her crazy with illicit imaginings. She could hardly look at him without thinking about the way she’d first seen him—naked—and thinking about him naked made her think of a whole lot of other things.
With a subdued sigh, she tore off a paper towel and used it to wipe the jelly off her cheek. One look at her legs confirmed that she would need to wash her jeans to get the fruit and butter off them.
It was Monday morning, and despite a near-irresistible urge to crawl into bed and not surface for a week, she downed the last of her coffee and braced herself to meet the day.
Nine
By the time Jessica got herself to work, it was well after noon. She closed the Daniels, Ltd. door behind her and was immediately aware of the sound of the shower running in Cooper’s private office. Calming herself with a deep breath, she walked over to turn on her desk lamp. The morning’s sunshine had been consumed by a heavy bank of fog rolling in from the Pacific. She had been the last one out of the house, and was apparently the last one to arrive at the office.
Cooper was in there naked again. She set her purse on the floor and lowered her face into her hands, shaking her head. What was she going to do with him?
Hand him a towel?
Offer to soap his back?
Beg him to please not take his clothes off in the office anymore, because her heart couldn’t take it? She was overreacting. She always overreacted when he was naked, or when he kissed her. She needed to get a grip.
Dragging her head up with a sigh, she walked to the dragon doors and closed them in the name of discretion and normal blood pressure. He could come out when he was decent.
When she turned back to her desk, she realized she wasn’t alone.
“Hello.” A man was sitting in the wingback chair by the window, his voice deep and calm, with a faint Scottish burr.
Startled by his presence, she barely managed a reply. “Hello.”
“George didn’t do you justice,” the man said, rising from the chair. He was dressed in an impeccable gray suit, which he wore with the air of a man whose clothes were always tailored to perfection and of the highest quality. His dark blond hair was neatly trimmed. His demeanor was one of perfect control.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Forgive me,” he said with a half smile of apology. “I’m Andrew Strachan. We were supposed to have met in London, and no doubt would have if Cooper hadn’t gotten overly possessive.”
“Oh, Mr. Strachan, of course.” She stepped forward and offered her hand.
“Cooper and I have some unfinished business related to the Hawaiian fiasco. I hope he’s not planning on bathing the rest of the afternoon.”
Andrew Strachan was very smooth and self-assured, but underneath his calm exterior and easy smile, she sensed a wealth of displeasure.
“Fiasco?”
“Pablo Lopez,” he said. “The deal you contracted with George. Cooper didn’t come through. I’m here to find out why.”
She was stymied for an answer. When she’d asked Cooper about Hawaii, he’d told her everything had gone according to plan. Obviously, his plan had been different from the one he’d asked her to negotiate.
It would have been nice if he’d told her the truth, she thought. Then she wouldn’t look like such a fool to Andrew Strachan.
“I’m sure Mr. Daniels will have an explanation. If you would care to be seated, I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Don’t bother. Cooper has a sixth sense when it comes to me and his women.” Strachan’s smile curled higher. “Believe me, he’s probably already figured out that I’m here.”
Stymied again, and flustered at being referred to as Cooper’s woman, she did the one thing she’d sworn she would never do again the rest of her life: She asked a professional equal if she could get him a cup of coffee.
“That won’t be necessary,” a familiar voice said behind her, before Mr. Strachan could decide for himself.
“Cooper.” Strachan gave a short nod.
Jessica half turned, not knowing what to expect, and found her boss practically dressed. His plaid shirt was still mostly open while he worked the buttons, but his jeans were zipped, and he was wearing shoes.
“Andrew.” Cooper finished with the buttons and began tucking the tails of his shirt into his pants. That’s when she noticed the jeans weren’t snapped, and that his belt wasn’t buckled. With his hair wet and slicked back off his face, he made an enticingly provocative picture of a man fresh from his shower. She couldn’t look at him without remembering how close they’d been and what they’d done on her couch. Color rose in her cheeks, embarrassing her even further.
“My men told me Lopez wasn’t where he was supposed to be yesterday,” Strachan said. “Did we have a misunderstandin
g? Or did he make you a better deal?”
“He got away.” Cooper shrugged, finishing with his pants, and walked over to the coffee machine set up on an antique credenza next to Jessica’s desk. “You got some of your merchandise back. That’s more than you usually get.”
“Not much merchandise,” Strachan countered, then added, “I’ll take mine black.”
Cooper poured three cups and offered them all around. “I looked in the warehouse where Lopez had it all stockpiled. There must have been at least fifty tons of the Callander’s cargo still in salable condition.”
“Minus your commission, of course.”
“Of course.”
Strachan sighed and pulled a thin cigar out of the breast pocket of his suit. “Do you mind?” he asked Jessica. When she shook her head, he turned back to Cooper. “What am I going to do with you, Cooper?” His tone made his disappointment clear.
“Pay me.”
Glancing at Cooper, Jessica saw he wasn’t the least bit concerned with Andrew Strachan’s disappointments.
“It’s a possibility,” Strachan said, then bent his head and lit the cigar he’d put in his mouth. After drawing deeply and exhaling a cloud of smoke, the Scots wolf met her boss’s unwavering gaze.
“‘Possibility’ covers too many options, Andrew,” Cooper said. “You only have one. Eight percent.”
Strachan smiled, a wolfish grin conceding defeat. “Three percent.”
“Five.”
“That’s only a fraction of what Somerset agreed to pay you for Lopez,” Strachan pointed out. “Why did you let him go?”
When her boss didn’t reply, Strachan spoke again. “I’m worried about you, Cooper. I think you’re going to get yourself hurt, and Jackson wouldn’t have wanted that to happen.”
“Your bank knows where to send the money. I’ll give you a week to make the deposit.”
“Whatever Lopez traded you for his life is going to be what gets you killed.”
“You should have more faith in me, Andrew.”
Jessica felt the confrontation come to an uncomfortable draw, with Strachan being the first to lose control of his temper.
