by Jaci Burton
“What happened after that?”
“I was almost eighteen when my dad died so I was able to live by myself. I went to college on a full scholarship, got hired on afterward at the NCA and I’ve been there ever since.”
“And that’s all?”
Her eyes swept up at his question, searching his face. She almost laughed at his wide-eyed expression. “Yes, that’s all. Should there be more?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Marriage maybe, kids, something. How about relationships? Boyfriends?”
Boy, was he nosy. “Not really. I’m not into any kind of permanent relationships.”
“Why not?”
Was this an inquisition? “Because I’m not interested.” Time to turn the tables. “What about you?”
“I’m too busy and travel too much to have a relationship. Some day, maybe I’ll be ready to settle down, but for now my work is my love.”
So he was running, just like her. She wondered what his reasons really were, then cast the thought aside.
Don’t get personal. Don’t care about him. That could only lead to more trouble than she was already in.
After dinner, they cleaned the dishes together. Working side by side with Tyler was relaxing. Having him near made her feel comfortable.
And uncomfortable at the same time. She watched him scrub pots and pans, amazed at his willingness to help out in the kitchen. He was like no man she’d ever known before and she found herself enjoying the moments they spent together. And, despite her internal warnings, wanting more.
She leaned against the counter, drying the dishes and watching the way his body moved, wishing things were different. Wishing she was different.
“Stop that.”
Her gaze flew up to meet his. “Stop what?”
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me alive.” The smile flamed in his eyes, riveting her gaze to him.
“I…I…” Speak, you idiot. “I did no such thing. And if I did, I didn’t mean to.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t mean to what? Look at me like that?”
She nodded, suddenly mute and feeling stupid for thinking this way about him. She was supposed to remind herself that he was an arrogant bastard, not potential dessert.
“You can’t help the way you look at me, any more than I can help the way I look at you.” He stepped toward her and she began to sweat. He took the towel out of her hands and threw it on the counter, then took her hands in his. “There’s a flash of heat between us. I feel it. I know you do too.”
There shouldn’t be, but he was right. She felt it too. A spark, like lightning, tingeing the air with electricity.
This wasn’t happening. The mere touch of his hands flamed her body and it reacted like it enjoyed the burn. Her breasts swelled, her nipples pressing hard against the soft cotton of her shirt. Her pussy ached and moistened. A severe chemical reaction to one potent, testosterone-laden male.
When was the last time a man had touched her body? She’d always kept relationships to a bare minimum, never getting past the point of involvement. Sex had been quick, more for release than emotional connection. Most of the time she just did it herself, imagining the man of her fantasies doing delicious things to her body and making her scream with a climax she couldn’t hold back.
Tyler had been the man she fantasized about. And now her fantasy man was right here, touching her. Despite her fear of involvement, she wanted to step into his arms and take the chance of being hurt, just to feel alive.
“Do you feel it?” His voice was no more than a whispered caress over her cheek.
“Yes.”
“Did you know your eyes turn a molten gold when you look at me?”
She shook her head.
He pulled her toward him, her breasts sliding against the thin cotton of his shirt. She gasped at the contact of his hard chest against the softness of her breasts.
“This is dangerous,” he said, his voice thick and heavy with sensual promise.
“Dangerous?”
He nodded and trailed his fingers along her cheek. She leaned into his hand, welcoming his touch. “Very dangerous. Like your eyes, pulling me in. Hypnotizing me. I shouldn’t want…”
As his words trailed off, she closed her eyes, captured by his voice. It resonated through her, shaking her resolve, eradicating her fear. She inhaled a shaky breath, but knew all hope was lost if he kissed her.
“What is it you don’t want?” she asked, captured by his touch. He slid his fingers over her lips—slow, soft, agonizingly gentle.
“This.” The first touch of his lips against hers was lightning, searing her with a shock of instant desire. He pressed his mouth firmly against hers and she exploded.
She burned, roasting alive in the exquisite fire of his kiss. He tasted of wine and passion and she wanted to drink him in. He reached for her, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her ever closer to his scorching heat.
His body was hard, his erection rocking insistently against the juncture of her thighs. Instinctively she moved against him and he groaned into her mouth.
“And this,” he said as he pulled his mouth away from hers and pressed fevered kisses to the side of her neck. She shivered, barely able to keep her knees from buckling. His hands on the bare flesh of her arms and shoulders heated her blood to boiling.
She shouldn’t want this. It was wrong, risky, made her feel out of control in ways she’d never felt before. But she didn’t want it to stop.
“I don’t want to want you, Nevada, but I do.” He dragged his lips from hers, his eyes smoldering with a barely contained fire.
The abrupt change in his demeanor confused her. First, he was hot and passionate, then he backed away as if she’d burned him.
Her lips still trembled from his kiss, her body quaking with the need for completion. How could he just stop?
“We can’t do this. I have a mission, a job to do. Having an affair with you doesn’t fit into my plans.”
He might as well have slapped her, the shock to her system so painful it roared through her like an aching flu. First he told her he wanted her, now he didn’t want her, yet he’d kissed her with the longing of a man who’d lived alone on a deserted island for the past ten years.
She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, trying to send as painful a message to him as the one she’d just received. “Who said you’d get one? An affair isn’t something I want either. I have an easy solution for you, Tyler,” she said as she quickly covered the hurt with the control she’d mastered over the years. “Don’t touch me like that again, don’t kiss me and you’ll get over it soon enough.”
“That simple, is it?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, closing her off. He’d withdrawn completely from her, the open warmth in his eyes now safely shielded by a steel curtain.
“Yes, it’s that simple.” She’d effectively masked her attraction to him before, when he was nothing more than a voice. Detached, unreal, perfect in her fantasies, which is exactly where she was going to put Tyler Call. Back where he belonged. “It’s easy enough for me to do, surely you can do it too.”
“Fine,” he said, his voice laced with resignation. “That’s just fine.” Without another glance in her direction, he walked out of the room.
Nevada sighed, trying desperately to get her shaky emotions under control. He’d started this, with that kiss and those fiery looks. And now he thought he could control the situation by shutting off his emotions. Well, two could play that game, and in the game of control and burying her emotions deep, she was the master.
* * * * *
Tyler busied himself at the boat dock, scrubbing down the deck that didn’t really need to be cleaned. But he needed to work off some energy from his encounter with Nevada.
What had he been thinking? He knew better than to touch her, but she tantalized him in those barely-covering-her-thighs shorts and skimpy little
shirt. Then, to top it off, she gave him that look that clearly indicated she wanted him. More than wanted him. More like she wanted to devour him. He hadn’t misread the hunger in her eyes knew his own mirrored what she felt.
Instead of walking away like he should, he’d pulled her into his arms and taken what she willingly offered. And it shattered his carefully controlled world to pieces. She tasted like sweet vanilla and at that moment he’d never wanted anyone more than he wanted Nevada.
But, he didn’t want to want her. He couldn’t want her. The mission was paramount, within his grasp. Yet he trailed after her like a lovesick teenager. In the meantime, the mission was taking a back burner when it should be front and center.
His father would be appalled if he could see him now. He remembered the pride on his parents’ faces when he’d graduated from military school and then followed his father’s example with his entry into the NCA. He’d never be a hero like his dad, but he’d damn sure follow the rules the same way.
The first thing he’d have to do is focus on his job. The second and harder thing would be to ignore the woman living in his house.
He attacked the deck with a new zest, confident he had his desire for Nevada under control. And when it came to control, Tyler was the master.
Chapter Five
Tyler was ignoring her. Sitting over at the desk, hiding behind the computer monitor with keys clicking away, not paying the slightest bit of attention to her. Not that it mattered—she was ignoring him, too.
Nevada had almost finished the novel she’d started earlier. Now she was riveted at the climactic moment. Would Charles arrive at the fog-laden dock in time to save Jacquelin, the love of his life? Or would the stalker find her first? She hurriedly flipped the page to find out.
“What are you doing over there?”
She looked up from the book. He speaks. “I’m reading.”
“What’s that god-awful sound?”
“Pardon me?”
“There’s a really annoying sound coming from your location. Are you biting your nails?”
She quickly spit out the remnants of a former fingernail. “Of course not.” Damn.
He made no further comments so she returned to her book. She couldn’t turn the pages fast enough. The action boiled, ready to erupt. They were just about to find out who the stalker was.
“Dammit all to hell!”
She jumped at Tyler’s loud curse and dropped the book in her lap. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He sounded like a pouting little kid. “Obviously there’s something. What is it?”
Instead of spitting it out, he produced a series of low mumbles. The only words she’d managed to understand were damn computer and pain in the ass. Since the ass in question wasn’t sitting on the monitor, he must be having a problem with the computer.
“What’s wrong with the computer?” Unable to ignore him any longer, she walked over to the desk and leaned over the monitor.
He looked up at her with frustrated eyes, brows furrowed and lines crossing his forehead. “The Internet sucks.”
She fought back the smile that threatened to erupt. “That’s a pretty broad statement. Care to narrow it down?”
“No.”
It was easy to figure out his problem. “You’re having trouble with a search. What are you looking for?” She walked around the desk and stood next to him, peering at the information on the screen.
“I know what I want to find, I just can’t find it.”
“I understand. Same thing happens to me all the time. Let me do it.”
He squinted at her and she felt like she was being inspected. Was he trying to decide if she could be trusted with his secret information? What a moron! She should walk back to her book and let him figure his problem out alone.
Trying unsuccessfully to hide her growing irritation, she lifted her chin and crossed her arms. “I’m not a spy, you know. Might I remind you we work for the same company?”
“Actually, I was admiring your. what do women call those things?” He tilted his head toward her baby blue boxers and tank top.
“I call them pajamas.”
“Oh. Whatever. They’re nice.”
Nice? That meant he hated them. She understood men’s lingo. Hot is great. Sexy is perfect. Nice is boring. She didn’t want to be nice. She wanted to be hot and sexy.
After a couple roving glances over her body, his gaze fixated on her face. Finally, she grew uncomfortable with his scrutiny and wiped her mouth, just in case some stray fingernail remnants remained. “Do you want me to help you or not?” She prayed he did. Anything to keep him from staring at her.
He shrugged. “I guess so. Sit down.” They switched places and he leaned over her. She inhaled his crisp scent, felt his heat despite the inches that separated them. This was even worse than the staring.
“First off,” she said as she got her bearings, “whatever you’re looking for isn’t going to be found using this search engine. Since I assume it’s about the case, I’m switching to one more user-friendly and information savvy.” She quickly punched in a website address which brought up her favorite search engine. “I use this one all the time at the agency. What are you looking for?”
“The trucking company that owned the semi I took a ride underneath.”
“Okay. That should be easy enough. What have you looked at so far?”
“Publicly traded companies. It isn’t one.”
“I could have told you that.” If he’d have bothered to ask for her help when he started. Stubborn man.
She pulled up some of the federal databases that listed information on privately held trucking companies. “What do you have on it?”
“License tag, but useless. It was bogus and most likely stolen or dummied. I did get a company name off the truck cab, but can’t find any information on it.”
“What’s the name?”
“Cross Country Trucking.”
After typing in the name of the company, she sat back and waited for the search engine to do its job.
Waiting had its drawbacks. He laid his hand against the back of her chair, the hairs of his forearm tickling the back of her neck. With his hip resting against her shoulder, she was at eye level with his…
“Now there’s something.”
Indeed it was. But he meant on the monitor. She turned to review the details. Tyler did too, bending forward and leaning against her as he scanned the screen. His arm brushed hers. She hoped the computer was grounded because a spark of electricity lit up her insides when their skin touched. “Would you like to pull up a chair?”
“No, thanks. I can see fine here.”
Great.
“So what does all this mean?”
“It’s kind of tricky, but I’ve seen it before. A dummy corporation, here,” she said as she pointed to the company’s official name. “Some privately held companies don’t want anyone to know who really owns them, so they set up through multiple channels. But,” she added as she typed in a series of codes into the search database, “we’re smarter than they are.”
She waited for what she knew would appear. “Voilà. The owners.”
Tyler’s eyes widened. “I’ll be damned.”
Nevada tried not to beam, but it sure felt good to do something useful for a change. And to show him she wasn’t a complete idiot. Which, of course, he should have known already had he bothered to pull his head out of his ass.
“How did you do that?”
She would not smile smugly. Really, she wouldn’t. All right, maybe a little. “That’s what the agency pays me to do. That’s what I’m good at.”
“I’ll say.” He reached behind her to turn on the printer, his chest brushing her back. Her skin tingled and her errant nipples hardened. How did he manage to do that to her?
“You want me to hit the print button?”
He nodded and walked over to the printer, pulling the pages off as quickly as they were through. “Wow,”
he said, rapidly scanning the information. “You’re good.”
Nevada may not know Tyler all that well, but she knew him well enough to realize he didn’t throw out compliments easily. “Thanks.”
He took the printout to the couch and sat, propping his feet on the coffee table in front of him. So now what was she supposed to do? Sit here, or go back and retrieve her book? Then what? Move to the chair so she wouldn’t have to sit next to him? Why was something so simple suddenly so complicated?
She couldn’t very well go to bed. He was sitting on it. Which of course got her mind racing with visions of leaping on top of him and having her way with him. She squeezed her legs together to massage the incessant ache between them, wishing he would leave so she could indulge her fantasies with a little hand work.
“Come over here. I could use your help.”
Yeah, she could use a hand herself, she thought with a smile. But at least his request solved her immediate problem. She headed toward him, hesitating between the couch and the chair. After a couple seconds of mental debate, she chose the chair and sat, waiting for his question.
Tyler looked up and frowned. “Not there. Here.” He patted the empty spot next to him on the small couch.
“I don’t want to crowd you.” God, she was such a coward. She risked her life to save him at the warehouse. Now she acted petrified at the thought of sitting near him. What was wrong with her?
“Don’t be stupid. I need you to help me with this information and I want to point and talk at the same time. I won’t bite.”
His grin was disconcerting. Reluctantly she left the safe haven of the chair and sat next to him on the couch.
“Unless you ask me to.”
Her gaze flew to his. Dark amusement danced in the depths and a devilish smile lit up his face. “You look like you just walked out in the middle of a gruesome horror movie. What is it? Do I smell?”
Yes, you do. Like sex and every forbidden thing I ever wanted. “No, you don’t. What can I help you with?”
“Look here.” He pointed to a list of names and addresses. “These are the owners, right?”
