by Cindy Dees
“I don’t think there’s another inch of me that can get into more contact with you than it already is,” she protested.
His hips rolled ever so slightly against hers. Oh.
“Well, there is that,” she laughed.
He rolled over, pinning her for a moment against the mattress. And before she could finish the tensing that rippled across her shoulders, he bounded to his feet, pulling her with him.
“More,” she demanded, stalking him like a tigress.
“Patience, love,” he murmured. “We’ve got all night.”
Oh, my. She liked the sound of that.
“Stay right here. I have to get something.”
She looked around. “Here” was right in front of the French doors, all the way across the room from her bed. How had they gotten over here? Damn, that man did crazy things to her head. She shouldn’t be having these feelings for him. But for crying out loud, the man kissed like a god.
And then there was a giant heave on the other side of the room. Her entire bed moved, the covers went flying and the top mattress slid sideways. What in the world?
She watched, bemused, as Joe grabbed an armload of blankets and pillows and carried them over to where she stood. He dumped them on the floor at her feet.
He murmured in a low voice that barely carried to where she stood only a foot away, “For what it’s worth, that’s a new mattress. It’s not the same one as—well, the same one. There’s no way to remove a bloodstain like that from a mattress, and yours is pristine.”
She all but sobbed in relief at that revelation.
Joe went back to the bed and dragged the heavy queen-size mattress across to her. He dropped it with a heavy whump to the floor.
A voice called through the hallway door, “Everything all right in there?”
Joe glared over his shoulder and called out loudly, “It’s our wedding night, for God’s sake. We’re not exactly sleeping in here, you moron!”
Cari slapped a hand over her mouth and burst into giggles.
Grinning and rolling his eyes, Joe positioned the mattress in front of the French doors and efficiently remade the bed. Then, with a flourish, he presented her with the makeshift bed.
That was possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. She smiled up shyly at his image swimming in her tears, then whirled and headed for the dresser in the corner. She dug around, found what she was looking for and headed for the bathroom.
“I’ll be right out,” she called over her shoulder.
She changed quickly into a filmy, white negligee she’d ordered from Paris a few months back. It was made of silk so fine it was nearly transparent, and it weighed hardly more than a magician’s handkerchief. She’d never worn it before. She hadn’t been consciously saving it for a special occasion, especially since lately her love life was more monkish than not. But as she slipped it over her head and let it float down around her naked body, she had to wonder if maybe she’d known subconsciously that this night and this man were about to come into her life.
The silk fabric flowed like a warm breeze over her skin. She adjusted the tiny little rosettes of pastel ribbons that held it up at her shoulder and brushed her hair quickly. When she stepped back into the bedroom, the French doors stood wide open, letting in a cool breeze and the rhythmic pounding of the surf. Joe was already in their bed, the covers pulled up to his waist. His chest was bare. Oh, Lord. Was he naked under there?
Her heart beat wildly at the idea. As she walked toward him, she pictured what he must look like under the sheet, and the image stole her breath away. And then she noticed the way his gaze was roaming up and down her body, absolutely inhaling the sight of her, and what little breath she had left escaped in a whoosh.
He held up the covers for her in silent invitation. And the world disappeared once more, narrowing down to this man and this moment, this dark cavern of linen and flesh, safety and—
She sank down to her knees and eased into the bed beside him. It was warm from his body heat. She was disappointed to discover he was wearing a pair of shorts, but in the next instant, he drew her against that lovely chest and everything else melted from her mind.
It all crowded in on her again, everything she’d ever wanted and more. A flesh-and-blood man holding her, protecting her, loving her. Hello, reality check. Total stranger only here to rescue her. Not happily-ever-after guy. But darned if he didn’t feel like that guy as he held her close. Gradually, the dream retreated—not a lot, but enough to breathe.
He propped himself up on an elbow and gazed down at her, his body perfectly still but his eyes ablaze. “You are, without a doubt, the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he murmured.
She reached up to smooth her fingers along his jaw. “You’re not so hard on the eyes yourself, Mr. Smith.”
“Ah, Cari, Cari. What am I going to do with you?” he murmured.
Her lips curved into a sultry smile. “Do you want me to suggest a few answers to that question?” she replied.
“No. Definitely not,” he answered almost sharply. He rolled onto his back beside her, an arm flung over his face. “Don’t tempt me,” he mumbled from under his elbow.
She grinned up at the ceiling. Tempting, was she? She could live with that. A cool breeze whispered across her skin and she drew the covers up. Joe’s hand was there immediately, tucking the blankets in around her shoulders.
He murmured, “If you get cold, let me know and I’ll close the doors. I thought you might like to hear the ocean, though. It always helps me sleep.”
She replied, “If I get cold, I’ll snuggle with you. I can feel your body heat all the way over here.”
A pause. A clearing of the throat. “That works, too.”
She smiled into the darkness. And fell asleep with a smile still on her lips.
But the next morning, along with the sun came the reality check she’d been incapable of last night. She looked over at Joe and saw a mature man lying beside her. He was so out of her league. Who was she trying to kid?
Besides, she hardly knew him. She had no idea what his agenda was. Bitter experience had taught her that he’d get over his infatuation with her soon enough and emotionally abandon her. She’d read books about men who stayed loyal to the women they loved, but she’d bloody well never seen any of them.
Her father’s men who actually bothered to engage in relationships went through women like shoes. They put them on, wore them out, and then discarded them. According to Julia, by the time her father had gotten around to killing her mother, all Inez had felt for her husband was terror, and all he’d felt for her was contempt. As a kid herself, her father’s attention had come and gone as his career and time allowed.
Love wasn’t a rock; it was water. It ebbed and flowed, flooded and dried up, depending on the landscape and the capricious weather of life. It certainly wasn’t something to count on.
Joe would get her out of here, and then he’d get on with his regularly scheduled life. If she let him, he’d love her and leave her like everyone else did.
She sighed. Sure he kissed amazingly well, but was it worth getting her heart broken over? Probably not. As hot to trot as he made her feel, lust was a purely transient thing. It would pass. It always did.
“Hey, princess,” Joe murmured beside her.
She rolled onto her side. His hair was tousled and a hint of whiskers shadowed his jaw. In the daylight, his bare chest was a sight to behold, wrapped in hard muscles, bronze flesh, and a sprinkling of dark hair. Okay, so in the meantime, he was a gorgeous hunk to wake up to.
“Hey,” she managed to mumble back past an inexplicable constriction in her throat. If only he were real. She could fall for him like a ton of bricks.
“Sleep well?”
The question startled her. Or, rather, the answer did. For once, her dreams hadn’t been inhabited by images of dead bodies and blood. Instead, they’d been filled with this man. It was perhaps the best night’s sleep she’d had in he
r bedroom since Tony’s murder.
“I actually slept great,” she replied. “You?”
He smiled and shrugged, a breathtaking display of bunching muscle. “I don’t need to sleep much. I spent most of the night watching over you.”
Watching over her? The thought sent her stomach spinning and a warm feeling fluttering through her. Safety. That was the feeling of being safe racing through her. Certainly a novel sensation in her father’s home.
“Ready to go face the lion?” she asked.
Joe rolled onto his back and stared up at the deep-blue sky overhead. “I dunno. I see him as more of a shark than a lion. Maybe it’s the gray color of his hair.”
She added dryly, “Or maybe it’s the way he always seems to be testing the waters for the smell of blood.”
Joe nodded. “Good point.”
He got up and she was surprised when he dragged a sheet with him, holding it around his lower body like he was naked. But then he stepped outside onto the balcony and called “Good morning” down to someone out by the pool.
Gunter’s curt voice floated back up. He didn’t sound too happy. But then, he was grumpy most of the time, anyway.
Joe stepped inside, grinning, and closed the door behind him.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
“Gunter was hiding in the bushes down there and was annoyed that I spotted him.”
“He was actually hiding in the bushes?”
“Yup. Right in among those oleanders that head over toward your father’s office.”
Cari grinned. “He’s actually a really nice guy if you give him half a chance.”
“Gunter?” Joe retorted. “The Terminator? Nice?”
Her grin widened. “Relative to the other guards around here, he’s a veritable saint.”
Joe shook his head and suggested, “Why don’t you go take a nice, hot shower. You’ll feel better.”
She felt just fine, thank you very much. Except he was giving her a significant look and even jerked his head ever so slightly in the direction of the bathroom.
“Come with me?” she purred.
His eyebrows shot up. “I beg your pardon?”
She laughed. “We are married. It is allowed, you know.”
“Uh, right,” he mumbled. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” she said firmly.
Joe frowned. Clearly, Cari had something in mind other than a shower. But what it was, he had no idea. She was in a strange mood this morning. Last night, she’d been all over him. And in all fairness, he’d been all over her. It had taken all of his willpower not to pick up where they’d left off once she climbed into bed.
Two things he was sure of, though. One was that her room was under surveillance, and the other was that they’d had an avid audience of guards at the other end of those bugs and cameras. At least, his and Cari’s romp on the bed had probably satisfied the bastards that the two of them were really married.
And then a disturbing thought occurred to him. Maybe last night had been just another piece of Academy Award-caliber acting for her. He wouldn’t put it past her to be capable of it or to have done it. So where did that leave him?
Fine. He’d go into the damned bathroom with her and see what she wanted. But disquiet filled him at the idea of once again closing himself in that little room with her. And taking a shower with Carina Ferrare certainly wasn’t part of the game plan. It had been hard enough to look at her in that transparent wisp of cloth she called a nightgown without leaping all over her, not to mention lying beside her in it all night long. Sleep had been entirely out of the question. His nerves were stretched plenty thin right now. The thought of warm water running all over that luscious, naked body was almost more than his formidable self-control could contemplate. He wasn’t about to make a fool of himself again.
“C’mon,” she beckoned with a smile that was both ladylike and a siren song—a combination he’d never been able to resist. And then it hit him. The minx was playing him! As smoothly as she’d played Freddie and Neddie yesterday, and as smoothly as she’d played her father. Damn, the woman was a barracuda when it came to manipulating men. She already had his number and they barely knew each other!
In minor shock, he followed her to the bathroom. Twice more, she looked over her shoulder, smiling encouragingly at him. He stepped into the bathroom cautiously, not sure where to point his gaze. When did the walls close in and turn this place into a shoe box, anyway? Heaven help him if she stripped and climbed into the shower in front of him. But thankfully, she only turned on the jets and stood back to wait. Perplexed, he leaned against the counter, his arms crossed in self-defense against what she was planning to do to him.
Clouds of white mist rolled out of the shower enclosure— it must be a steam shower—and in a few moments, the mirrors fogged up. And then Cari did something strange. She relaxed. Truly, completely relaxed for the first time since she’d set foot in this house last night.
She leaned close and murmured, “This room is free of bugs and cameras. I meant to mention it last night, but we got…distracted.”
“How can you be sure?” he asked skeptically.
“Because I’ve wired a jamming system into the electrical outlets, and I’ve done a thorough check for cameras. Plus, the steam will fog up any camera lens in here.”
“You’ve wired a jamming system?” he repeated in disbelief. “How in the hell did you learn how to do that?”
“I have a degree in electrical engineering from the University of Miami.”
He stared at her, openmouthed. How in the bloody hell had their research on the Ferrare clan missed that one? “You’re kidding,” he finally managed to blurt out.
She grinned sheepishly. “While everyone thought I was sleeping off the wild nights in South Beach, I went to college during the days. I specialized in microelectronics. It wasn’t hard to build a transmitter to interfere with the equipment my father uses in the house.”
“When’s the last time you checked to make sure there hasn’t been a frequency or baud-rate change in the transmissions?”
“Two days ago,” she replied easily. “And most of the stuff around here isn’t digital. Straight EM transmissions work better with all the steel in the walls.”
Okay, then. Maybe she really was an engineer. Holy cow.
She continued. “I check my father’s equipment about twice a week in this room. I don’t mess with the stuff in my bedroom because that would draw too much suspicion. Although, I have been gradually changing where the cameras are pointed. I’ve got them mostly pointed away from my bed—and the French doors to the balcony—now.”
There were cameras pointed at her bed? Talk about an invasion of privacy! There was such a thing as being security-conscious, and then there was plain being a sick bastard. Joe’s jaw tightened into a knot of tension. But Cari continued, apparently not noticing the sudden fury rolling off him.
“In here, it’s plausible that the steam, and my blow-dryer and my other electric appliances could mess up the signals. So I went ahead and jammed them. I needed someplace for a little privacy.”
So that explained the wide array of hot rollers, hair-straightening irons, hair-curling irons, electric toothbrushes and the like cluttering her counter. He nodded, impressed as hell.
She went on, “Anytime we need to talk, we can come in here and turn on the shower. And in case you want to check out the system…” She moved over to one of the electrical outlets by the sink and popped out the whole plug face.
Except it was damned hard to concentrate with her leaning over the counter like that, her perfect tush jutting out and the fine silk of her gown clinging to the curve of her hips.
Over her shoulder, she explained, “I installed fake screws with springs behind them so it’s easy and fast to get in behind these and adjust my gear. I did this on my summer break a few years ago—once I knew how—so the equipment might not be totally modern. But it gets the job done.”
She t
urned around, showing him a full-blown circuit board wired behind the plug, a red light blinking on its surface. But his eyes strayed to the delicious curve of her breast, the faint, rosy shadow of a nipple beneath the silk.
She pointed down at the little red light with the tip of her French-manicured fingernail. “That means the jamming system is active. You deactivate it by flipping this toggle here.” She pointed to a tiny black switch. “Sometimes when I come in just to put on makeup, I turn off the system. I figure if no signal ever gets out of here, someone will get suspicious. But I’ve got Gunter convinced this is just a bad reception area.”
“Sweet setup,” he commented warmly, adding, “Well, aren’t you just a bundle of surprises?”
The grin she threw him was positively impish. “I like to keep my men off balance.”
No kidding. She turned to replace the plug in the wall and the side of her breast was outlined clearly by a patch of damp silk. The way her negligee kept going completely see-through as it clung to various parts of her anatomy had Joe way beyond off balance. He was positively reeling. He had to get out of there before he embarrassed them both.
He mumbled, “Uh, why don’t you take a shower for real? I’ve got a couple of things I need to do in the bedroom and there’s no reason to risk you getting caught, too.”
She frowned and opened her mouth, but he cut her off gently. “Don’t ask. Just trust me, okay?”
She nodded doubtfully. “Okay. But be careful. The guards are going to be watching your every move.”
“Thanks for the advice,” he muttered.
He spun and bolted from the bathroom, closing the door between them fast. He leaned, literally panting, against the wall to catch his breath and his equilibrium. Damn, that woman was lethal! Sexy as hell and not afraid to use it.
He shook his head to clear it. Get your act together. He looked around the bedroom. She said the cameras had been pointed at the bed and now weren’t. That narrowed down where the suckers could be hidden. Under the guise of putting the bed back together, he scoped out possible hiding places. He identified three possible spots to conceal a camera.
