Though she’d already spent two weeks unwinding, she could feel her muscles unknotting, her mind clearing…opening to new possibilities and unfamiliar sensations.
And to his credit, other than glancing back now and again to be sure she was with him, JD didn’t try to fill the silence.
She’d been astonishingly wrong about her first impressions of him. He was charming and handsome, yes, but he kept surprising her with depths and sensitivities she didn’t expect.
He was funny and kind. He was confident enough to be generous—he didn’t need to build himself up by bringing anyone else down. His silence now was another aspect of that confidence. Secure in himself, he didn’t have to draw attention.
And he was wiser than she would ever have imagined. His vehemence over how girls and women were brainwashed to view their bodies…none of that was feigned. How would any woman hear him speak of his grandmother’s beauty and not be moved?
Plus, she liked that he acknowledged her own looks as simple fact without being smarmy or manipulative, without making her feel either hunted or begrimed. It’s nice that you’re beautiful, he seemed to say, but tell me who you are.
She could be in real trouble with this one, oh, yes, she could. He had all the earmarks of The One.
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
He halted, and she’d been so lost in her thoughts she nearly ran into him. He stepped aside to show her the view.
“Oh,” she said reverently. “Oh, my.”
“Yeah,” was all he said.
The trail wended its way into an honest-to-goodness grotto. The azure pool lay before them, fed by a waterfall spilling from the land above. Behind the waterfall, a shallow cave, cool and shady. Moss and greenery draped over limestone, the air still and cool in the summery day. Across from the waterfall, a jumble of huge rocks formed a platform perfect for sunning or diving into the cool water below.
JD remained still at her side, allowing her space and time to absorb it all. To simply be.
At last she blinked and resurfaced. “I would almost say we could go now. I feel restored already.”
He gave a quick slash of even white teeth. “There’s more where that came from.”
She inhaled, a deeper breath than she’d taken in forever. “I am so there.”
“I hear you. I found this place when I first moved to the area, and it still helps me clear my head. I’ve never brought anyone here before.” He extended a hand. “Come with me.”
She placed her hand in his. The warmth of his palm, the firm yet gentle clasp of his bigger hand around hers made something inside her feel cosseted. Safe.
Somehow understanding what she needed, he led the way behind the waterfall, coming to a stop half in and half out of the sunshine, where both shade and sun were accessible.
Giving her options. Being thoughtful. Very much like his basic nature, she was beginning to grasp. That he was sharing his refuge with her touched her.
“This look okay?” he asked.
“It’s amazing.” She closed her eyes and breathed deep. “What a great idea.”
“Even with bologna on white bread?” he teased.
“You remind me of my brothers.”
“You could have talked all day without saying that.”
She grinned. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” He spread the blanket he’d brought along. “Milady…” He gestured with a sweep of his hand. “Your banquet awaits.”
She settled on the blanket. “I’m not really hungry yet, but you go ahead.”
He sank down beside her. “I’m fine, too.” He stretched out his long, muscled legs, his cargo shorts revealing golden skin dusted with hair a few shades darker than on his head. “Water looks inviting.”
“Is swimming allowed?”
“Most of the time, except after heavy rains. They put up a sign, or there’s a ranger to keep people out. Why? You tempted?” He waggled his eyebrows. “You bring your swimsuit, Hollywood?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
His eyes went hot. “That’s wicked cruel. My guess is that you’re wearing it, and—” He slapped one hand dramatically to his chest. “That is not an image to make a man rest easy. Have mercy, darlin’.”
She rolled her eyes. He might be a better man than she’d originally given him credit for, but he hadn’t forgotten how to be a flirt. “What about you? I don’t see swim trunks anywhere.”
“I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.” He mimed a villainous twist of an imaginary mustache, eyebrows raised.
She chuckled. “Maybe later.”
They sat in companionable silence as the waterfall provided background music. After a few moments, Violet lay back and simply let the peace soak in. She must have dozed for a few minutes because she didn’t realize he’d moved until she heard the splash.
She opened her eyes but didn’t sit up.
Oh, my. She watched as JD swam quietly across the pool and lifted himself out on the opposite bank, muscles rippling across his back. Water sluiced off his broad shoulders, trailing down to lean hips. His soaking wet cargo shorts clung, outlining one very fine behind.
He turned and prepared to dive in again, flicking a glance in her direction. Quickly she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling as though she’d violated his privacy. She kept them closed as she heard him slice through the water on his return.
Still she didn’t look. Not, at least, until he moved close enough to drip on her. When she felt the cold water on her heated skin, she popped her eyes open and squealed.
“Faker.” He roared with laughter. “And here I thought you were an accomplished actress.” Before she could dodge, he’d scooped her up in his arms and wheeled toward the pool.
“Oh, no, you don’t—”
“Come on, Hollywood, live a little.” He climbed up on the rock, carrying her as easily as if she weighed nothing.
“JD…”
“Water feels great.” He stepped forward then hesitated. “You don’t have your phone in your pocket or anything, right?”
“What if I do?”
He studied her for a second, then that beautiful mouth curved. “Don’t gamble with a gambler, sugar.”
And he leaped.
She didn’t have time to scream before they went under. She tightened her arms around his neck as, with a powerful kick, he brought them back to the surface.
And grinned unrepentantly.
They began to sink, but she wasn’t worried about drowning because she’d already seen that he was a strong swimmer.
So was she.
With another strong kick, he lifted them both to the surface and swam with her to the rock ledge. His flesh was warm against the cool silk of the water. She didn’t break away, instead letting herself revel in the feel of his body against hers.
Time rocked to a halt. The moment spun out. She had a sense of a threshold reached, a choice to be made. She could pull away, reduce the moment to harmless flirtation. Avoid any possible risk of choosing the wrong man again.
Or she could see what happened next. Right here before her was not only a very sexy man, but one she was increasingly sure had a good heart. If she never took another chance on a relationship, however brief, she would never know if her past problems were due to her choices in men…or some fatal flaw in herself, something that rendered her unlovable and doomed to never make her dream happen.
She hadn’t gotten to this point in her career by running away from risk.
Keeping her eyes locked to his, she slid her arms up his chest. Their legs tangled together. The water was cool, but not enough to chill his body’s powerful response. Before she lost her nerve, she pressed her mouth to his, sliding her tongue slowly over the
seam of his lips.
A small shudder ran through him.
With a rush, he gathered her in, seizing her in a torrid kiss, the taste of him bold and spicy and dizzying.
She tossed any remnant of caution to the wind, grazing her mouth across his jaw and down, nipping at his throat.
“Sweet Mother MacCree—” His voice dropped to a near-growl, and he proceeded to deal out his own torture. One hand slid beneath her shirt, fingers skating over her belly in teasing circles.
She arched to bring him closer. Her legs parted and wrapped around his waist.
“Violet…” His voice was a harsh whisper as she rubbed against him with painful slowness, tormenting herself as much as him.
Then they heard voices.
“Oh, hell.” JD lifted his head and swore colorfully.
“Amen.” Her sigh was heartfelt. She looked over his shoulder. “I don’t see anyone yet.”
“It won’t be long.” He rested his forehead against hers and echoed her sigh. “Come on, sweet lips. I need to get you out of here before somebody recognizes you.” He pressed one last, quick kiss to her mouth then lifted her onto the bank, following her with a powerful thrust of his muscled arms.
They began gathering their things.
“I still don’t know if you have a swimsuit on under there,” he whispered, as the voices got nearer.
She grinned and faked a leer. “Find us another picnic spot, and maybe I’ll show you.” She was surprised to feel mischievous, not terrified of exposure.
“Stop tormenting me, woman. I don’t know if I can stand up straight as it is.” He slid the tote bag with their food over his shoulder, then balled up the blanket and held it against him, walking in an exaggerated hunch.
Violet laughed. “Whine, whine, whine.” She smacked him on the behind and went around him.
He chuckled. “Don’t think you won’t pay for that.”
She flashed a smile over her shoulder. “You have to catch me first.” She ran, barely stifling a foolish, girly squeal as she heard him catching up.
He tossed the blanket at her so fast she automatically grabbed it, then he scooped her up in his arms before she could blink.
“JD!”
“Hide your face in my shoulder. Someone’s coming.”
She squealed again, and he threw part of the blanket over her head. She felt his chest vibrate with his laughter.
Until, that is, she began to nibble her way up his chest.
Then all she heard was a barely suppressed groan.
Along with a few muttered promises about what would happen when they were again alone.
CHAPTER NINE
AVERY WENT UP THE STAIRS to his office, right next door to Sage’s. They shared a connecting door, though each had an entrance from the hallway. Both offices were heavily soundproofed because they overlooked the dance floors. Though he liked most of the music the club played, hearing it night after night could get a bit much. As it was, the heavy bass beat still made their office floors vibrate, but that was part of the deal. A low, thumping base was an intimate part of the sexual dance that was the reason places like Danger Zone existed.
It was all about sex, the forbidden undertow of the carnal, the appeal of danger and risk that kept the club bouncing seven nights a week. He was so tired of it.
He glanced out the one-way smoked glass of his office, automatically checking to be sure the cleaning was well underway, the liquor deliveries were on time. Sage wouldn’t be here yet; though she lived in a sky-high condo only blocks away, Sage never rushed her toilette. All the pots and potions that resulted in her sex-bomb-meets-Amazonian-goddess allure took time to apply.
Even he, who’d been as close to her once as she ever allowed anyone to be, had never witnessed the process. Sage let no one beneath her formidable armor, not even him. She was a black-widow spider, deadly and irresistible all at once.
He’d seen her body naked countless times, but never her face. Her makeup, whatever it consisted of, wasn’t heavy or thick, and he wondered just how much she needed it to be beautiful.
She didn’t, he suspected.
But what she did need was its protection. He’d asked, but she’d never told him why. Threatened to throw him out of her bed if he ever asked again. In thrall to her potent allure at the time, he’d complied. And now they weren’t close enough. If they ever had been.
He glanced at his watch, but only ten minutes had passed. He cursed and thought about calling Bately himself.
Just then, he heard footsteps he recognized. He started toward his hallway door to greet her, but she went on past and into her office without pausing. She had to know he was here—his Jag was parked in his usual spot.
Never mind. He needed her focused. For a second, he glanced at their common door but decided against cracking it open. She’d arrived surprisingly quickly; she must be as concerned as he was. Let her keep her attention where they needed it—on Bately. He’d hear the results soon enough.
He sat at his desk, the sleek black console in keeping with the décor that carried out the theme of the club below—thick, sensual cushions, subdued mood lighting shimmering off metal and leather and glitter…techno meets power meets sex. He tried to concentrate on the schedule of acts over the next six months, but one ear was always cocked for the sound of the connecting door and the verdict.
Alan Bately owned key warehouse properties in Houston and San Antonio—one was a port city and the other was on Interstate 35 which ran from Mexico to Canada—both were crucial to a step he wanted to take.
Why be only a money man for Jorge Lima when he could supplant Lima altogether? In fact, he’d already begun the process.
Sage didn’t know—she thought they’d chosen Bately to ingratiate themselves with Lima for a bigger piece of the money-laundering pie. It was true that Bately gave them additional capacity for laundering money, since many tenants paid in cash. Avery had originally thought that way himself, but then he’d realized he’d set his sights too low. He could be Lima, not work for him, if he played his cards right.
The connecting door’s knob clicked as Sage turned it. He spun around in his palatial leather chair. “Well?”
“He wants out. He’s lost his nerve.”
“And then you discussed how his family and friends will react when the video of him with a fourteen-year-old girl winds up on the internet?”
“I did. He says he’s going to confess to his wife.”
Avery arched an eyebrow. “That ought to go over well. You believe him?”
“I don’t know. He says he’ll go to the cops after that. He says he’s talked to a lawyer buddy of his who claims we’ll be in more trouble than he is. Says we have until midnight.”
“Or what?”
“He’s probably bluffing.” Sage seemed unusually shaken. “But we can’t take that chance. We have to stop him. He’s a danger to us now.”
“No shit. We won’t have to worry about the cops. Lima will kill us first if Bately talks.”
“I know someone. I’ll make a call.”
“To do what?” But he knew. Somehow it wasn’t hard to believe that even murder wasn’t beyond Sage. “Not yet. I’ll go down there, talk to him in person.”
“I don’t think it will help.”
“I never signed on for murder, Sage.”
“I’m not going to jail.”
“Just let me see what I can accomplish. I’ll leave now.” He’d have to cancel with Violet, probably tomorrow, too. Damn it.
But he couldn’t worry about Violet right now.
“Do not do anything until I get back in touch with you.”
She waved him off. “I’m calling my guy. I’ll put him on hold, but I want him ready.”
“Sage, chill. Do not screw this up.”
“Bately’s the one endangering us all. I’m giving you until ten, then my guy goes in.”
Avery clenched his hands into fists and glared at her, but Sage’s chin jutted in defiance.
That unpredictable mood of hers was a problem. She was a problem.
One that might need solving, too.
He left without another word.
* * *
DAMN. VIOLET WAS NOT ONLY beautiful but nice, intelligent, sexy…and surprisingly down-to-earth for a woman so many put on a pedestal.
Plus, she was fun.
JD had been in a lot of difficult situations on the job—his life on the line, beat all to hell, excruciatingly bored on stakeouts, sickened by man’s cruelty to his fellow beings…
But his current dilemma was misery of a sort he’d never encountered. He was an undercover cop; part of his job was to deceive people for the greater good. He’d told more lies than he could count, feigned innumerable identities, used his skill with words to portray situations however he needed them to appear—but always in the name of justice. Of course there had been unavoidable collateral damage sometimes. He’d never welcomed it, but he’d known it was necessary to take down the bad guys, to keep good people safe.
But deceiving Violet…
He never had trouble maintaining a cover while still keeping sight of who he was at his core and why he was there.
Today, however…for long moments he’d skated dangerously close to forgetting his case, his goals, the fact that she was—had to be—a means to an end. A very important, very crucial end.
Close, hell—when they’d been in the water, he’d forgotten everything but her and how very, very much he wanted her. And worse, how easily he could fall for her.
And wouldn’t that just be a kick in the ass? He could picture Doc now: so let me get this straight. You learned absolutely nothing about Avery Lofton, who likely is laundering millions for a cartel that has enslaved countless women and children, has murdered more than a few of them…because you couldn’t keep it in your pants?
On His Honor Page 11
