Cold As Stone (Family Stone #7 John) (Family Stone Romantic Suspense)

by Lisa Hughey

  Rissa moved her hand closer to his thigh and accidentally brushed against his erection.

  “Told ya’ darlin’.” His smile was far more forced. And Rissa wasn’t sure but there might be a bit of flush on his cheekbones.

  “Relax.” Her smile was determined. “I got this.”

  The lights dimmed. The music swelled in the intimate venue and Rissa leaned against John.

  He smiled tensely as their waitress dropped off more cocktails and removed the empties from their table. “Would you like another soda?” She eyed the nearly full glass.

  “This one’ll do me for now.” John smiled and tilted his head so he could watch the girls on the stage.

  The opening number was more of a revue. There were elaborate headdresses and skimpy costumes and glitter dust and thick eyelashes and stiletto heels and nearly bare asses and pasties. But no actual stripping.

  Bunny sauntered away, swinging her nearly bare ass, her perfectly rounded white cheeks on display as the stage went dark.

  Without warning, loud pops shattered the darkened venue. Rissa’s heart exploded in her chest. Gunshots! Not again.

  She grabbed John and tried to shove him under the table as she dove beneath the protective barrier.

  Her heart popped in her chest like the bang of an AR15 on full auto. So fast, her breath trapped in her lungs, terror froze her, and she was about to start hyperventilating.

  Acrid smoke burned her nostrils as she gasped for clean air.

  Not again. Not again. That thought whizzed through her mind like bullets.

  John, she had to save John. Her partner. She couldn’t let John down. He had to survive. He had to.

  She refused to let another partner die.

  Chapter 5

  Fuck.

  John’s head banged on the edge of the table as he resisted Rissa’s attempt to yank him to the floor. What the fuck?

  For a second he was off balance. His prosthesis worked well most of the time but he had to maintain a careful center of gravity or he’d over- or under-balance. He managed to press his palm to the banquette seat so that he didn’t end up on his ass.

  He had a clear view of Rissa under the table as the fireworks popped and banged, lighting up the center of the stage. The smoke from the fog machine didn’t obscure the air beneath the tablecloth so he had a clear view of his “wife.” Her face was stark with fear and her glassy pale eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

  “Not again. Not again,” she kept mumbling, still tugging on John’s arm.

  She was completely losing it. He should be pissed. But her lost, torn expression was breaking his heart. She had gone to another place, one where she had no cognizance of her surroundings. Of who she was, who he was, or what they were doing here. And fuck him but he’d seen this kind of disassociation before.

  He had to get through to her. Had to get her back with him and at least partially under control.

  They needed to get the fuck out of here. Now.

  Before she completely blew their cover.

  “Come on.” He tugged on her hand. She was still gripping his wrist tightly, her nails digging into his skin with super-strong fear as he gently helped her back onto the seat. As she was righting herself, Bunny strode up to the table. John automatically blocked Rissa from the waitress’s sight. He shifted and spoke to Rissa in a low voice.

  “I need you to do whatever I tell you, no arguing, no hesitating.” John shot Rissa a “shut up and let me get us out of this” stare. She nodded, seemingly ready to follow even if she wasn’t completely with it.

  “Kiss me,” he whispered under his breath and hoped she had enough presence of mind to heed his command. “And sell it.”

  “Everything okay?” Bunny leaned around John to observe Rissa.

  John felt the warm suction of her mouth on his neck and his cock, which still hadn’t recovered from her lengthy perusal while he was in the tub, roared back to full attention. God damn, he was going to be walking through this damn place with a club in his pants.

  Rissa moaned low in her throat and her tongue was slicking up his neck. Thank Christ she was playing along. But he had to wonder based on her enthusiasm if she’d transferred her fear into desire.

  He pasted on his most charming smile, which wasn’t all that charming. “I think my wife is a little…under the weather.”

  “Under the table,” Bunny grumbled.

  “Just close out my tab,” John commanded as if he’d been born with that silver spoon that was listed on his fake credentials.

  Fortunately they were on their fourth cocktail in about forty-five minutes so it was conceivable that she was drunk as a skunk. Rissa’s glassy, unfocused gaze and slick mouth only seemed to underscore his statement as she placed little biting nips over his collarbone, supposedly completely oblivious to their audience.

  The girls on the stage were still at the beginning of their bump-and-grind show, tearing off little bits of cloth in the American Flag pattern at slow, teasing intervals.

  John signed the bill with a flourish and Bunny handed back his black credit card.

  “That’s for you, darlin’” He tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table and slid out of the booth. Since Rissa had managed to pull out all the sex kitten stops, Bunny likely figured they were about to go at it on their ride home. “Thank you kindly.”

  “My pleasure,” she purred.

  He dismissed her. “We’ll have to catch the show another night.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Bunny smiled vacuously as she tucked the bill into her cleavage. Then she slid a piece of paper into John’s palm and eyed his wife with consideration. “Hope to see you again.”

  While waiting for the show to start, the swanky club had filled to capacity. John supported Rissa as they wove around the tables and away from the stage. Finally they were at the door and he hustled her out. A line of hopeful people circled around the corner waiting for a chance to get in. Fortunately the show on the stage had enthralled the audience, and the only attention John and Rissa had captured was the assessing scrutiny of the hostess.

  He curled his arm around Rissa’s shoulders. His palm rubbed against her bare skin of her biceps as he tried to unobtrusively comfort her.

  Little tremors rocked her body and her eyes were still dazed and slightly out of focus. He was pretty sure her little freak-out had nothing to do with their objective for the night but until they were somewhere private and could talk he was staying in character.

  He nuzzled her neck and let his hands roam over her bare skin.

  “We’ll be home soon, baby.” His voice was far huskier than he’d anticipated. That would work for their cover. But damn he was going to have to take another ice bath to combat the unintended effects of her warm mouth on his skin.

  And fuck him, it had been a long time.

  They grabbed a taxi from the line outside the club rather than wait for the limo service Jack had put at their disposal. She didn’t say a word the entire trip back to the hotel. They couldn’t afford to drop out of character until the door closed behind them in their hotel room. If this ring was as high end as they thought, they had the money and the resources to have a pipeline to all sorts of information.

  Las Vegas still hadn’t recovered from the recession a few years ago.

  The taxi drivers were hit especially hard as Vegas was filling hotel rooms with families and couples on vacation. They’d lost a significant amount of corporate business when the trade shows quit coming. Those hefty sales expense accounts were the bread and butter of the taxi drivers. They’d be happy to pick up a few extra bucks supplying business owners, legitimate or otherwise, with information about their fares.

  John pulled Rissa on to his lap and kissed his way across the swell of her chest.

  She curled her fingers into his non-regulation-length hair and tilted her head back. Even if she wasn’t quite with it, she instinctively stayed in character.

  He tasted the essence of her. Rissa’s skin was exquisitely ve
lvety and smooth. The floral feminine scent that rose from the valley of her cleavage touched off something deep and primal within him. John groaned low in his throat. “Goddamn, you smell fantastic.”

  Her hip rested against the fucking pipe in his pants. He hoped she wasn’t going to go off on him about inappropriate responses once they were back in the hotel room. But besides the small hesitation when she slid against his hard-on, she hadn’t reacted at all.

  If anything, she seemed lost in the moment.

  A restless tension seethed within him. What the hell had happened back there? One minute they’d been watching the show, the next she’d gone completely over the edge. But he wouldn’t start yelling until he got her side of the story first.

  He kept hearing her whisper “Not again.”

  As he held her against him, paper rustled in his breast pocket. Bunny had passed him something right before they left. He couldn’t retrieve it now with an armful of Rissa but hopefully it was a solid lead.

  At the hotel, John swiped his card over the sensor in the elevator, then leaned against the wall and stared at her. Her face was devoid of any expression, except that wasn’t quite right. And her aquamarine eyes were unfocused as if she were reliving some other event. Her body was tense as if she was trying desperately to keep that non-expression.

  He wanted answers.

  The fragility of her features filled him with remorse. Two conflicting feelings simmered inside him. He was trying to reserve judgment until he figured out exactly what had happened at the strip club.

  And he still wanted to wait until they were in their rooms.

  Finally they were through the door of the suite. Bliss shot off the couch. “You’re back early.” Then she really examined Rissa and within seconds she had her arms wrapped around the other woman. “What happened?”

  John got the message immediately. Bliss wasn’t completely surprised that something had gone wrong. Which meant something else was going on here. Something that he had clearly been kept in the dark about. Teammates didn’t keep things from each other. That was how people got dead.

  “I don’t know.” John stomped to the sofa. “Why don’t you ask her?”

  Rissa bent her head, her shoulders slumped, arms clasped over her waist. She said, “I freaked out.”

  Bliss’s green gaze shot to John, her eyes wide, concerned. “For no reason?”

  “Fireworks. Of course, I didn’t know that at first.” Rissa tilted her head back. Her wavy black hair tumbled down her back, accenting all that bare supple skin. “Shit. I’m done,” she whispered.

  The temptation to lay into her was strong but he held off, finally realizing that as frustrated and annoyed as he was, she was beating herself up far more than he could. He still needed to know what the hell happened. What set her off, so they could avoid it or at least prepare for it next time.

  Next time.

  He already accepted that they’d go out again. They were going to have to in order to follow the lead from Bunny.

  “Oh, Riss.” Bliss hugged Rissa tightly. “Minor setback.”

  “You have a lot more faith in me than I do.” Rissa smiled wistfully. “Go on home to Jack.”

  “You sure?” Some emotion that John couldn’t decipher flashed across the features of his soon-to-be sister-in-law—or whatever they would be. But it wasn’t anticipation. He sure hoped Jack knew what he was doing. Secrets never ended well.

  Which led him to his current dilemma. No one was coughing up an explanation regarding Rissa’s little breakdown.

  He studied her wrapped in that sinful dress, but now he didn’t see her hot body or sexy sensual beauty. He was struck by the vulnerability in her eyes.

  “Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?” John kept his voice low, not wanting to wake Maria and possibly upset her, but he would really like to know what the fuck happened in that club.

  Rissa flinched.

  Yeah. This was going to be a fun conversation. Sigh.

  Especially since Bliss Lee wasn’t necessarily surprised that Rissa had freaked out. Which meant that Rissa and Bliss had known ahead of time that something like this might happen.

  “Yes.” The sad, lost expression had left Rissa’s face. She squared her shoulders and addressed him. “I’ll explain in a minute.”

  Bliss grabbed her purse. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Rissa nodded.

  “Should you leave by yourself?” John asked quickly. The last thing he wanted was friction between himself and Jack because he’d let Bliss go home on her own.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  John shrugged uncomfortably.

  Bliss patted her purse. “You do know that I carry a weapon. I can take care of myself.”

  “Text Jack and let him know you’re leaving.” John thought that was a good compromise.

  “Like a teenager letting daddy know I’m on my way home.” Bliss didn’t look happy.

  “We’re investigating a possible kidnapping and prostitution ring,” John said patiently. “While the rest of the world thinks you’re here for vacation and a wedding, it’s never smart to ignore the criminal element. If the wrong people noted that you were here, you could be in danger. There are eyes everywhere.”

  “Good point.” Bliss smirked. “My own experience aside, I think Jack’s rep is enough to keep that criminal element off his back. The last thing they want or need is the wrath of Jack Stone. He’s relentless.”

  John wondered if that was a subtle warning. So far his interactions with Jack had been good. “I know. And if anything happened to you on my watch, I’d be history,” he said grimly.

  “John.” Bliss’s voice softened. “I didn’t mean….”

  John forced a grin, baring his teeth in a parody of a smile. “Relax. I know you didn’t.”

  His request worked and she relented. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

  “Thank you.” Thank God he hadn’t had to force the issue and she’d agreed on her own.

  Rissa had just observed mutely as he and Bliss had negotiated.

  Bliss said, “I’m off.” For a moment, John thought she might say something else. But after one more concerned glance at Rissa, she quietly let herself out of the hotel room.

  The silence in the common area of the suite was difficult at best.

  John didn’t want to interrogate Rissa but he needed to know what he was working with. He couldn’t control the outcome, couldn’t control the mission, if he was working blind.

  John rubbed the back of his neck. His tension headache throbbed right along with his joint. He’d twisted awkwardly when she’d tried to pull him under the table. Even though with his suction assembly the prosthetic wouldn’t come off, the tug had bent his knee in an awkward angle.

  He had a lot riding on his performance during this operation. He couldn’t afford for her to fuck it up.

  Fuck. Forget about him. The bottom line was they needed to try to find those girls. For the girls, for the community, for Maria.

  All Rissa’s attitude was gone. Seeing her slumped, nearly broken on the sofa, loosened an odd wish. He wanted that sass back.

  She was stunning, whether as the tough-as-nails ball buster or the slightly defeated woman in front of him.

  However, if he showed her any compassion she might break, rather than rise back into the ball buster she’d been for the past two days. So he put aside his compulsion to treat her with kid gloves and growled like the beast he was, “Pull it together.”

  “I haven’t worked in the field in two years.”

  What? John straightened.

  Incredulity, disbelief slammed into him like a one-two punch.

  Two years? But Jack and Bliss had said she worked at Adams-Larsen. “Why?” he barked.

  “There was…an incident.” Rissa rubbed her fingers along the seam of one of the bands of her dress. The stretchy black material had ridden higher on her thighs. The shadowed valley between them promised heaven.

  Focus.
Idiot.

  Fuck.

  Her voice was bleak as she relayed the details. A sting gone bad. An op compromised. An agent lost.

  “I was placed on disciplinary leave immediately.” She avoided his gaze. And even without the compassion, the confident, bitchy woman was gone. “There was an investigation. I was cleared,” she said fiercely.

  “I thought you worked with Bliss at Adams-Larsen?”

  “I do.” Rissa laughed bitterly. “I’m the goddamn receptionist.”

  She answered phones? Then what was she doing working on such an important assignment?

  “So, what are you telling me?”

  “I haven’t been able to go in the field since the shooting,” Rissa replied darkly. Her normally incandescent aquamarine eyes were dark with shadows and regret.

  “This is your first time out?”

  “Jillian thought this assignment would be perfect. Low possibility of violence. This is supposed to be mainly investigative rather than operation based.”

  Her face was a picture of anguish, her eyes glittering with disappointment but not sadness. Damn, he’d almost prefer she start crying. Ball Buster was gone. In her place was this broken, lost woman. He hated it.

  “I’ll get out tomorrow. I’m sure Jill can get someone else out here.” Her face was hidden by the fall of her hair as she picked at a piece of lint on the black dress.

  He was surprised at his immediate, violent response. Every cell in his body reacted negatively. “No.”

  He threaded his fingers through his wrecked hair and fought for control before he started questioning her. When he fisted his hands, the paper the waitress had given him crinkled in his pocket.

  Her head came up, eyes wide, those plump red-slicked lips pursed. “What?”

  “No can do.” John pulled the paper from his pocket. The one that Bunny the waitress had slipped him right before they left. “We’ve got a lead. They’ll be expecting you. Not someone else.”

  John was so fucking grateful to Bunny for giving him an excuse to keep Rissa with him, even when he wasn’t sure why he wanted her there. Her fragile beauty aroused his fierce protective beast, but instinctively he knew that showing her mercy, compassion would only break her more. She needed to fight. Fight back and claim her confidence, otherwise she would continue to be a victim. Continue to cower instead of rise above her fear.