by Cindy Dees
Having met the man, she didn’t have the slightest doubt that it was all a load of bull.
The weird bit was that, in spite of all the time she’d spent with him, she still didn’t know any more about the real Joe than she had when she’d first met him. He was extraordinary in getting her to talk about herself, but always managed to turn the talk away from himself when she tried to learn even the smallest thing about him floating in the ocean late at night.
Recently, Joe had resortedShe wanted to taking her to the loudest dance clubs in town, and she was pretty sure he was doing it so they couldn’t talk to each other in anything other than snippets of conversation shouted over the music.
She would love to do more regular dating stuff with him where they could talk more. But Eduardo knew her pattern. He knew she primarily went out with men to dance, and nothing more. Joe counseled against changing her pattern too drastically, and continued taking her out to dance clubs. He might not want to talk with her, but she could work with dancing. As a form of seduction, it wasn’t half bad—if a girl was a bold and sexy dancer. Which she was.
She’d been glad when Joe suggested they meet at this particular nightclub, tonight. It played the hottest house music this side of the equator and was the sort of place where they could go a little crazy with each other. Joe might be satisfied to take his time, but she was eager to ratchet their relationship up to the next level—to a heat that would justify their elopement to Eduardo.
Riigghhtt. She wanted to go to a sexy dance club and drape herself all over Joe purely in the interest of promoting his safety.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was wildly attracted to her future husband. Future husband. At first, that phrase had felt strange and foreign to her, but over the last few days, the sound of it had been getting more and more comfortable.
She was also getting more and more comfortable with the idea of being infatuated with Joe. Hey, why not go with the feeling? It would make their marriage act that much more believable to her father when the time came.
So, she mooned around the house all day, dreaming about him, and she cheerfully let her father rib her about it. She spent hours trying on dresses until she found the perfect one, and she let the maids tease her about that, too.
The other reason Cari was glad they were going somewhere steamy tonight was that Joe’s impeccable restraint was starting to get on her nerves. She liked to think of herself as reasonably attractive, but he seemed completely impervious to that fact. It was all well and good to be hot and bothered over him, but it would be nice if he returned a smidgen of the same attraction for her.
The song blaring out of the club’s oversized speakers ended. Where was Joe hiding? He had to be around here somewhere. She pushed through the crowd in search of him, but the club was packed and it was slow going, dodging the gyrating bodies around her.
Where was Joe? She couldn’t see him through the press of people around her. But he was near. She could feel it. She got short of breath just thinking about touching that gorgeous body of his again. He was such a contrast to the beefy brutishness of her bodyguards. Joe’s was the toned fitness of an athlete. He was muscular but lean, powerful yet graceful.
She smoothed her palms down the red Marilyn Monroe-style halter dress she’d agonized all day over choosing. She hoped it would shake Joe up a bit tonight. Okay, shake him up a lot. If it didn’t, she gave up. The guy would officially be priest material.
In their meetings so far, he’d been a total gentleman with her. Not once had she caught him checking her out on the sly, and he’d been unfailingly polite with her. Her father might be eating it up, but she’d about had it with the squeaky-clean routine.
Sure, he leaned close and threw her the occasional heated look, but those were purely for the benefit of her bodyguards and the whole cover story of their falling madly in love. He always apologized under his breath after the fact. Apologized, for God’s sake!
No more apologies tonight, buster.
They were supposed to be having a steamy, whirlwind romance, for crying out loud. The idea was for people to witness them hanging all over each other so her father would buy the story when they told him they’d eloped.
Besides, her gut said Joe was capable of more real passion than he was showing. Much more. Right now, she needed more than nice from him. She needed fire. Sizzle. Enough to convince her father not to kill him out of hand. Enough to reassure her that she hadn’t completely lost her feminine allure. And most of all, enough to satisfy the desire roiling restlessly in her stomach.
It was definitely time to shake up Mr. Joe Smith.
Freddie and Neddie had split up as they always did when she came to this particular disco. One covered the front entrance, and the other took the back door so she couldn’t sneak out on them. Which was perfect for her purposes, tonight. It put both men clearly in sight of the dance floor but not close enough to interfere when she went after Joe.
The song changed. A slow ballad that paired up the sweaty bodies hemming her in. Finally, an escape path opened up for her. She’d almost reached the edge of the dance floor when a warm hand touched her bare shoulder. Pleasure ripped through her. Ah, she knew that touch. Craved it.
She smiled and turned around to greet Joe. As usual, her breath stuck in her throat at the sight of him. Tonight, he wore a casual white shirt and crisply pressed, navy trousers. He blended in perfectly with the rich playboy types who frequented this exclusive club.
With a smile that would melt rock into quivering lava, he drew her politely into his arms and swayed to the music of the ballad blasting around them.
Enough already with the careful dance-class distance between them! Carina plastered herself against him from shoulder to knee. And sucked in a sharp breath. Oh, my. His body was flexible steel against hers, and his shirt clung to muscular shoulders and a set of pecs her father’s goons would kill for.
He stared down at her in surprise, and she stared back in challenge. Then a slow smile came across his features and he relaxed into the dance with her. Why did she get the distinct feeling she’d just unlocked a door with something dangerous lurking behind it?
The song changed tempo and a driving Cuban beat pounded through Joe’s body into hers. But instead of letting her go, he pulled her even closer against him. It was a good thing his powerful arm circled her waist or she would’ve been in real danger of her legs failing as delicious sensations shot through her entire body.
She gasped as he spun her around in a fast Latin dance. Now where in the world did he learn to dance like that? In their previous meetings, he’d never given any hint of knowing how to do this. Huh. He was a man of many talents. She would definitely lay odds some of those talents extended to the bedroom.
He whirled her around, spinning her out to the end of his fingertips and then flicking her back in like a yo-yo on a string. As quickly as his body heat disappeared, it was back. His hand on the small of her back pressed her so close against him that she practically rode his rock-hard thigh. He lifted her against him as he spun around the room, her feet barely skimming the floor.
“Dizzy?” he murmured into her ear, his breath a hot caress against her neck.
“Yes. No. Not from the dancing,” she managed to get out.
He laughed and twirled her away from him again, then gathered her close once more. His thigh rubbed against hers intimately, igniting fireworks low in her belly. Flames of desire licked at her, threatening to consume her completely. Not fair. He looked completely in control, totally unaffected by their spicy dance.
She ran her fingernails across the back of his neck and she might as well have ruffled a tiger’s fur. Abruptly, his eyes blazed and sexual vibes poured off of him, hot and thick and possessive. Now that was more like it!
Women around them on the dance floor ogled him even more blatantly. All but purring herself, she leaned into him until his shirt caressed her breasts through the flimsy fabric of her dress.
The music
blared and the rhythm pounded through her in time with her body’s pulsing need. The drums beat low in her belly, while the Cuban horns blared across her skin and the singer’s voice shivered down her spine. Faster and faster the music played, driving her lust higher and higher with a need to be naked and sweaty with this man.
It was sex on a dance floor, and it was UHH-mazing.
Joe’s eyes reflected same near-orgasmic pleasure she was experiencing. Thank God. She would hate to be this turned on and be alone in reacting like this. She felt the bulge of Joe’s reaction to her behind the zipper of his trousers, and her knees almost did give out then.
Whoa. Tony never had reacted to her like that. It was part of the reason she’d always preferred going out with gay men. They didn’t get turned on by her and there were so many less complications in the relationships. She used her gay buddies to get visibility with the press, and they used her for fame or a free ride—she always paid for their outings—or maybe to disguise their sexual orientation. She hadn’t much cared what they’d gotten out of spending time with her.
But her habit of hanging out with gay men meant she was much less prepared to handle Joe’s aggressively sexual reaction to her than she let on. The world saw her as a barracuda around men. Truth was, she was more of a minnow than anyone knew.
The music finally ended and Joe’s arm loosened enough for her to slide down his muscular leg to Earth once more. He led her to the bar on the far side of the dance floor, away from both of her bodyguards. She wobbled alongside him, hardly able to walk. Oh. My. God. What had just happened to her? She’d never experienced anything remotely like that— in public or private—with any man.
“Good thing I’m already planning to marry you,” he shouted in her ear as he handed her one of two glasses of ice water he snagged from a bartender.
“Why?” she shouted back.
“After a dance like that, I would feel obligated as a gentleman to marry you.”
Her face heated abruptly. Busted. She had set out to get his attention. Apparently, she’d succeeded.
“In case I forgot to mention it, you look spectacular tonight,” he yelled in her ear.
“Thank you,” she answered, strangely shy of the compliment from him. “You look pretty great yourself.”
He reached out to tuck a strand of her hair back from her face. He put his mouth on his ear, his lips moving against the sensitive flesh so sexily that lightning bolts slammed into her lady parts, zinging wildly through her body.
“I got our marriage license today. I also have a judge standing by day or night to hear our vows.”
Wow. He had a judge on call? How did he pull that off in this town? She thought her father owned all the judges in St. George. In all of Gavarone, for that matter.
He continued, interrupting her speculation. “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll get married.”
She blinked. The words were a bizarre and wonderful fantasy coming out of this gorgeous man’s mouth. He was the kind of guy she might like hearing those words from for real. Someday. When she was ready for a permanent relationship.
“When did you have in mind?” she shouted.
His answer was brisk. “The sooner the better.”
Fear erupted in her belly. God. This was real. She was going to elope with this man. It was an extreme plan, and could elicit an extreme reaction from Eduardo. Next time it could be Joe—or her—lying in that bed in a pool of blood.
Joe’s lips were moving against her ear again, sending delicious shivers down her spine. “I don’t like you being in that house all alone with your father. The faster I can get in there to protect you, the better.”
She turned her head and returned the favor, plastering her mouth against his ear. “I’m hardly alone in the house. My father has a half-dozen full-time house servants, and wads of his…employees hang around all the time.”
“His armed, dangerous and not-too-bright henchmen, you mean?”
She laughed at the description. “Exactly.”
“Like I said, the sooner the better,” he ground out. His jaw rippled as he stared down into his glass of water.
Warmth bubbled up inside her. Joe sounded genuinely worried about her. That was so sweet. If only the idea of walking into her father’s office and saying, “Guess what, Daddy? I got married today” didn’t make her ill to even imagine, she would be feeling a lot better about this whole scheme.
“Why the frown, princess?” Joe yelled. “You look worried.”
She sighed. “I was just thinking about how my father will react to all this.”
Joe shrugged. “He’ll be pissed off and suspicious as hell. But I’m telling you, I think he’ll secretly be relieved. We just have to watch our step and not give away that it’s a ruse. One slip-up is all it’ll take.”
No doubt about it. A single misstep would land them both in her bed with slit throats.
She put her hand on his forearm, which rested on the bar beside her. She leaned forward, speaking urgently. “You have no idea how violent my father is. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
His dark eyes blazed, pinning her against the bar. “Yes. I do. And baby, I know exactly how violent Eduardo Ferrare is.”
His sudden intensity startled her. Usually Joe was so calm and unruffled. Where had all that abrupt fury come from? A frisson of doubt raced through her. Was there was more going on here than Joe simply wanting to rescue her?
If he was, in fact, with the Blackjacks, then there was some serious bad blood between Joe and her father. Eduardo had killed a member of the Blackjacks years ago, and the way she heard it, the Special Forces team had never forgiven him for it.
What was Joe’s hidden agenda? Did he mean to physically hurt her father in some way? Kill him, even? Did she dare go ahead with this whole eloping thing and put Eduardo at risk?
He might be a criminal and a bastard, but he was her father, after all. The only parent she’d ever known. Was she ready to see him die just so she could live her own life in peace?
Unlike her father, she didn’t hold life cheaply. She was no murderer who could casually stand by and watch another human being—even one as awful as her father—die.
She sighed. She had no doubt at all that this was her last and only chance to escape her father. She took the risk now, or she resigned herself to living out the remainder of her life as her father’s prisoner.
Could she do that? Could she sacrifice herself rather than put her father at risk? Did he deserve such a sacrifice from her? God knew, Eduardo hadn’t earned it.
No matter what risk Joe posed to her or her father, she had to pay the price and jump at the chance he had offered her.
She would act as Joe’s cover inside her father’s house while he accomplished his secret goal, whatever it was. And, in return, he would help her accomplish her secret goal—escape.
She wanted out. And Joe?
What did he want?
Her intuition screamed that it involved hurting her father in some way. Was her freedom worth that guilt?
As her thoughts whirled, Joe’s arm slid around her waist once more. “Can I interest you in another dance?”
As if he had to ask twice! Her lips curved into a smile. “Let’s go, Mr. Astaire.”
Joe grinned. “After you, Ginger.”
She felt him watching her hips as she sashayed toward the floor in front of him. Finally. At last, the guy was showing normal male interest in her!
She blinked away a sudden, weepy sensation that didn’t go at all with her devil-may-care, little-rich-girl act. Her mask firmly in place once more, she looked around to gauge the crowd’s reaction to the hot vignette playing out between her and Joe.
Ah, all the world’s a stage. At least, in her world it was.
Gavarone’s superrich social set was actually quite small. Inbred, the lot of them. Everybody knew everyone else. So when a newcomer—especially one as spectacularly handsome as Joe—showed up and staked out a woman as notorious
as her for himself, it got noticed in a big way.
And then, of course, there were Freddie and Neddie. Hopefully, as long as Joe’s attention stayed firmly glued to her, he would be safe from the loving attention of their fists. She seriously didn’t want to find out what her father’s orders to the thugs were if Joe happened to show interest in some other woman after showing such intense and public interest in her.
Joe’s fingers trailed up her arm, and then he looked at her with sharp concern. “You okay?”
“Why do you ask?” she replied.
“You have goose bumps. You can’t possibly be cold in this gaudy sweat pit.”
She grinned at the description of the posh club. She’d always thought the place’s neon decor was a little garish, too. “It’s nothing,” she assured him.
He gave her a speculative look. And then dropped her jaw with his next words. “Let’s get married tonight.”
“Tonight?” she squeaked.
“Sure. Why not?”
Her mind went completely blank. Fear crowded forward in her head until it all but choked her. It was one thing to think about lying to her father, but the reality of it was another thing entirely. Was she truly prepared to go through with Joe’s scheme? To face down her father’s wrath? To make the break for real?
It hit her like a sledgehammer that, at some level, she’d known all along the plan with Tony wouldn’t work. Somehow, she’d known her father would find out and foil it. She hadn’t anticipated how violently he would react, but she’d known subliminally that Eduardo would stop her.
Joe, on the other hand…
This guy might actually be able to deliver on his promise. He could get her out once and for all. For the first time ever, she truly faced the prospect of making the break with her father.
As violent and cruel a man as he was, he was still the man who’d raised her. It wasn’t as easy as she’d thought it would be to walk away from him forever. God, she’d had no idea she was this brainwashed. She frowned.
Joe swore quietly beside her. She looked up, surprised. “What?” she asked.
