by Susanna Carr
“You don’t believe me?” She bristled with indignation. “Do you need to see a doctor’s note? A blood test?”
“Well, you have a…” How could he explain that she wasn’t a superhero, either?
“A what?” she asked. “An injury? Scars? No, wait. That’s you.” She poked him again in the chest. “And not once did I think you were weak or incapable.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “You think they’re hot,” he said in a gruff voice.
“Damn right, I do.”
* * *
JULIE DIDN’T THINK THERE WAS any point in hiding how she felt. She still wanted Eric. More than ever. He wasn’t going to be around for much longer. Two weeks tops.
But why did he treat her as if she were as breakable as a porcelain doll? She wanted to feel his heat and his raw power. She wanted a taste of his wild side, the side he felt he needed to hide from her.
Did he think she was too much of a good girl to enjoy a rough tumble? Then he was in for surprise. When she fantasized about Eric—which occurred more than it should have—she imagined him sweaty, tied up and desperate for her touch.
She flattened her hand against his chest and felt the heavy beat of his heart. “Eric, did you think I was weak when we were in the supply closet?”
His eyes glittered. “Oh, now we get to talk about it?”
“Did you think I was fragile?” she asked as she slid her hand up his chest.
“No.” He leaned into her.
She enjoyed the weight of him pressing against her hips. “Powerless?”
“No.”
She placed both hands on his wide, solid shoulders. “Did you think I was holding back?”
“No.” He tilted his head as he considered her question. “Why would you?”
“You’re an injured man.”
“So?” His mouth hovered above hers.
“A man on sick leave.”
His eyes darkened as he remembered her untamed response. “You weren’t holding back.”
“And I don’t want you to hold back anymore.” She linked her hands behind his head and pulled him down for a kiss.
She was so hungry for him, but she didn’t rush it. She tasted every inch of his mouth. Licked, nibbled and savored the moment before she deepened the kiss.
Eric clenched the roof of her car. He didn’t touch or grab her. It was as if he didn’t trust himself. He poured everything he felt into his kiss. She tasted the darkness in him and wanted more.
He wanted to claim her with his mouth but this time Julie wanted to take charge. She clenched her hands into his hair and held on tight. Eric’s groan of surrender rumbled in his chest as he reached for her hips and held her close.
Eric ground his mouth against hers. His touch was fierce and wild. This is what she wanted. She wanted to feel his strength and power. She wanted to feel the depths of his desire.
Julie slipped her hands to the collar of his shirt and felt the erratic pulse at his throat. She tugged at the buttons as he captured her tongue. She sighed in his mouth when her fingers brushed against his naked chest. She felt him shiver as she trailed her hands along his abs, her fingers going over the ridge of an old scar.
She felt dizzy and wild. Only Eric made her feel that way. When he touched her, she felt weak and ferocious. Bold and shy. Wild, but at the same time, tamed. She could make him tremble, but he had just as much power over her.
The sensations whipped through her body, but she didn’t fight them. She didn’t want to. She just wanted to feel. Take. Demand.
Julie skimmed her hands down to his jeans and boldly flattened her palm against his rock-hard cock. Eric tensed and his breath was jagged and harsh. She flexed her fingers, enjoying the feel of him. She wanted him deep inside her, claiming her while her body claimed him.
She unbuttoned his jeans and drew down his zipper.
“Julie,” he warned against her mouth.
She didn’t want to stop. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and slowly pumped her hand. Eric tilted his head back and hissed between his teeth.
Julie watched his face as she stroked him. Her blood was roaring in her ears. She loved seeing him like this. On edge, off balance and unguarded. For one moment, he trusted her completely.
Eric wrapped his hand around her wrist and held her still. “Okay, Julie,” he said with his eyes closed. “You proved your point.”
It took a second before his words registered in her head. “What are you talking about?”
He removed her hand and hesitated before he took a step back. She immediately felt the loss of his weight and heat.
“You wanted to prove that you had power over me,” he said as he zipped up his jeans. “So, congratulations. You made your point. But don’t think that this changes my mind. I’m not going to help you.”
She flinched at his words. “That is not why I kissed you.”
He held his palms up. “I have done my best to keep my hands off you tonight.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” She needed to feel his hands on her body. Her skin. She needed his touch like she needed her next breath.
He looked down at his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you needed some…reassurance after what happened with Lloyd.”
Julie’s jaw dropped and she felt a blush zoom up her neck before flooding her cheeks. “This had nothing to do with Lloyd.”
“And now you need to show that you have power over me.” Eric looked into her eyes. “I want you badly, so much that I can’t think straight. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you run right over me.”
“I don’t need any reassurance.” She hated how her voice shook. “Not from you. Not from anyone. And what just happened here was because I wanted it to happen.”
“Why did it happen?” Eric asked. His eyes were dark with suspicion. “You want a little adventure, is that it? A walk on the wild side? I’m not against it, but we both know I’m not your type.”
“True,” she said angrily. “I like a man who takes action and I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move.”
“You don’t even want to talk about it.”
“Because I know what you’re going to say.” She forcefully pulled her car door open. “That you’re sorry and it was a mistake.”
“I am sorry and it was a mistake.”
Julie wanted to roar. Scream. Stomp her feet. Instead, she sat down in her car and slammed the door shut.
“Eric,” she said as she started the engine, “the only thing you should be sorry for is thinking I have an ulterior motive for having sex with you.”
Eric sighed. “I am sorry.”
“And the mistake you made? It’s believing that I need to get your permission for anything.” She threw the car into Reverse and peeled out of the parking space.
9
THIS WASN’T HIS IDEAL WAY to spend a Saturday, Eric decided as he entered the nightclub. He could have spent the day with Perry, or gone through the financials for Gunthrie S&I. He would rather have spent it with Julie. If only he could find her!
Eric slowly made his way through the crowd. The music screeched in his ears and the pulsating lights made him squint. What was it about this place that made him feel old?
He wouldn’t willingly enter this club, but he knew Julie would be here. And if he were a gambling man, he would bet that she was doing exactly what he didn’t want her to do.
Looking over the swaying hands, Eric decided he had to give Julie credit. She was not easy to track. Whether it was by accident or design didn’t matter. He was a pro and he hadn’t been able to find her all day. But he knew that she would investigate Blondie and Red, and she last saw them in this nightclub.
He surveyed the room, gritting his teeth as his frustration bloo
med. The men ranged from slimy to scrawny. Some of them were dressed in T-shirts and jeans like he was, but there were a few in shiny suits with slicked-back hair.
The women looked much the same. Long straight hair, glitter on their skin and dressed provocatively. Each woman tried to gain attention by their dancing. The movements were sexual and crude. None of the women had Julie’s feminine grace.
Eric gave the bar another sweep. He didn’t see Julie. But she was here. He knew it.
It would have helped if he knew which alias she had chosen for the night. He saw a man on the dance floor grab an unsuspecting woman’s ass. If it was Trashy Julie, he was going to get her out of here fast. If it was Almost Bare Julie, he would approach her with great caution.
Eric reached for his cell phone. He hesitated as he stared at the screen. He had called her throughout the day, but she hadn’t taken any of his calls.
Of course she hadn’t. He basically said she wanted sex with him to prove something. He wanted to kick himself after he suggested it, but he didn’t trust the attraction between them. He couldn’t imagine why someone as sweet and innocent as Julie would want anything to do with someone like him.
Eric returned the phone to his pocket and did surveillance around the dance floor. Julie wouldn’t hang around the corner or in the shadows. That wasn’t how she would get information. She would capture the spotlight or be in the center of the action.
One thing he could never accuse Julie of was cowardice. She was gutsy. He’d usually admire that in a colleague, but sometimes the gutsy move was showing patience or making a sacrifice. He didn’t think Julie was capable of that.
The woman in front of him flagrantly gyrated her hips to catch his attention. Eric gave her a cool stare. She stopped and quickly moved away.
If only Julie had shown that kind of common sense, he thought as he walked onto the dance floor. She needed to learn not to tease him or push her luck.
A movement caught his eye in the center of the crowd. He slowly turned his head in time to find a woman moving with mesmerizing grace. Her arms were raised, her hands curved like a ballerina as she swayed to the music.
Julie.
Eric stood motionless as he watched Julie dance. She tilted her head back and grabbed the full length of her straight hair. She piled it up on top of her head as she moved to the hypnotic beat. He stared at her, wanting to sweep his tongue along the curve of her neck and taste her fragrant skin.
He fought against the pang of jealousy as she danced in sync with another man. She was the focus of many, but she didn’t notice. Even from where he stood he could tell she wasn’t aware of her partner. Julie was lost in the music.
Eric swallowed hard as Julie rolled her hips to the primitive beat of the drums. Her fire-engine-red dress pulled against her curves. She really shouldn’t dance in that dress. It was short, tight and strapless. Every man held their breath in anticipation of a glimpse of more.
Sweet and innocent. The words mocked him. He hadn’t seen this side of her, or he never allowed himself to see it. It didn’t go with the image he had of Julie Kent. He would never make a move on Good-Girl Julie with her ladylike dresses and shy blushes.
But each alias revealed a side of her. She could be sophisticated or bawdy. Rebellious and mysterious. Julie wasn’t pretending to be someone else. She was exploring what was hidden behind her good-girl image.
And tonight she was Femme Fatale Julie. She could seduce with just one knowing look. Enchant and hold a man spellbound. Charm him into telling his secrets.
She could do that without the makeup and the red dress, Eric decided as he cut a path through the throng. She got him talking about stuff he didn’t tell his partner.
He shouldn’t have told her how he felt about being a special agent. He never planned to, but he wanted her to understand what could go wrong. Instead, he shared something he wasn’t comfortable with. That wasn’t like him. As a child he had learned never to discuss what was going on in his home or in his life. A part of him knew Julie wouldn’t use it against him, but another part of him was waiting for his words to come back and haunt him.
Eric reached Julie. Her dance partner glared at him, ready to defend his find. Eric glared right back at him and took a step closer. The other guy paled and took a step back. When Eric took another step forward, the guy melted away in the crowd.
He seized Julie’s wrist and whirled her around. She gasped and wobbled in her sky-high heels. She opened her eyes and grabbed his arm as she regained her
balance.
“Eric!” Her eyes were wide and she clung to him. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same.” He took another close look at her dress. He wasn’t sure what was keeping it from falling.
“I’m dancing.”
“Dance with me,” he challenged her.
Julie slid out of his grasp. “Sorry, not unless I can prove my power over you.”
Eric clenched his jaw. “I already apologized for that.”
“Can’t hear you,” she said as she drifted away.
He grabbed her wrist again and pulled her close. He refused to be distracted by her light perfume or how her soft curves yielded against his hard body. “We need to talk,” he growled in her ear.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Great, then you can listen.” He escorted her off the dance floor, giving her hand a short tug when she tried to resist. He wanted to take her out of the club, but he knew she would walk right back in. Instead, he found an empty table in a dark corner where they could talk privately.
Julie wasn’t pleased to see him and she didn’t care if she made it obvious. She crossed her arms and leaned against the table, unaware that her breasts were about to spill out of her dress. She turned her attention to the dance floor.
“What’s up with the femme-fatale alias?” he asked.
She smiled and faced him. “You think it works?”
“Yes.” Julie was a seductress. She enchanted men with her eyes and natural sensuality. The others faded in the background. “What was wrong with your other aliases?”
“I learned my lesson yesterday and I needed to look like I belonged.”
She didn’t belong here. Julie looked like a sex goddess and the women were her acolytes. But once she mentioned it, he noticed that Julie’s hair was straighter and there was a sprinkle of glitter on her arms and chest.
“You don’t recognize the dress?” she asked.
He frowned and tilted his head. There was something familiar about it, but all he could think of was how it lovingly hugged Julie’s body. He knew she wore nothing underneath and he was tempted to peel the dress off her. “I think I would remember if you wore it to work.”
“I would hope so. It’s stunning and has an equally stunning price tag,” Julie said with a laugh. “Blondie wore this last night, but in black.”
The dress was unmemorable on Blondie. But he’d never forget it on Julie. “And you just happen to have it in your closet?”
“No, I scoured all the consignment stores in Bellevue today. They didn’t have my size so I had to go a size smaller. I maxed out my credit card for it.”
“Why?”
She shrugged and looked away.
“So you could investigate the intellectual property theft?” he said, answering his own question for her.
“Maybe I like the club and couldn’t resist coming back,” she said as she fiddled with her hair.
“More like you couldn’t resist looking into what Blondie and Red were doing.”
“That’s a possibility.” She twirled her finger in her hair and yanked it away. “Okay, fine. I wanted to get closer to Blondie and Red.”
He sighed. “Julie.”
“Come on, Eric. Haven’t you ever followed a hunch? Didn�
��t you need to investigate because you had questions? Was there ever a time when you needed to know for yourself?”
“Maybe. When I didn’t know any better.”
“The guys at work are right. I am a rookie and Uniform Girl. I won’t get far on my own, but I want a few more answers before I go to Z-Ray.”
“What happens if you tip off Blondie and Red? You said so yourself—you are a rookie.”
Julie pressed her lips together and drummed her fingers on the table. “Okay, now you’re just making me mad.”
“That’s not my intention,” Eric insisted. “I want you to see how your actions can influence a chain of events.”
“All I wanted to do was find the women and see what they were up to. I bet it’s an ongoing scam. That’s it.”
“Have you seen them tonight?” He took a quick look around.
“No, which is strange,” she said, her frustration thick in her voice. “They’re regulars and they’re usually here on Saturday night.”
Eric paused and glanced at Julie. “How do you know that?”
“I asked the bartenders, the bouncers and the waitresses.” She caught his expression. “Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything about thefts or Z-Ray.”
“I’m not worried. I’m surprised that you got any details. It can often take a couple of visits before you get any information. What did you find out?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “The blonde’s name is Mercedes. The redhead is Tiffany.”
He raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Really?”
“Those are the names they go by,” Julie said. “They live around here, hang out with geeks during the week, but they hang with a different crowd on Saturday nights.”
He looked around the room again. “What kind of crowd?”
“Slick, muscular guys,” she informed him. “The one who seems to be in charge of the group is Jeremiah. Jeremiah Moon or Dune. I kept getting a different answer on that. The guys wear designer suits, lots of expensive jewelry, and drive Ferraris.”
“How did you find that out?” he asked.
