As it stood right now he had been focusing too much time on one very sexy, very beautiful, host. London wasn’t the bad guy here, he was sure of that. No; he wasn’t sure. He wanted to be sure of it. He wanted to believe that she was innocent, that she wasn’t behind a plan to send America and the rest of the world downriver.
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe that’s why Grant had attached himself to her. Maybe Grant suspected, or maybe he knew, and that’s why he focused his time on London.
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His new theory was a stretch; he knew that. If Grant had suspected London then where had he gone those days when he disappeared for lunch? It was in-house knowledge that Jerry and Michelle spent their lunch breaks having sex wherever they could, so he doubted Grant was wasting company time spying on them. It had to be one of the other two men.
He wished it were that simple. It could be the lighting assistant for all he knew. It didn’t matter at this point that the production wasn’t big because he was only one man and with multiple people disappearing over lunch breaks he couldn’t follow them all. Warren had kept the crew limited in order to save money, which meant several people on the show wore more than one hat…but at the same time the crew was big enough to set this investigation back a year. He didn’t have a year. Something big was about to go down and he needed to piece the puzzle together before it happened.
He couldn’t be sure that he was following the right person.
What if while he was lurking in the shadows following Nick one of the others was off making a deal with the devil? What if his instincts were wrong this time? He hated second guessing himself. He hated the uncertainty because it was a trait that could get him killed. It had obviously gotten Grant killed. He needed to focus, but on which one of them?
London was easy to keep track of. The necklace he had given her hadn’t left her neck—at least not that he knew of anyway. Even Capri Montgomery
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while they were shooting she insisted on wearing it. Jerry had told her to lose the jewelry and she had respectfully declined. Instead, she made sure she tucked inside her blouse before filming so that it wouldn’t become the distraction Jerry had claimed it would be. He knew for a fact that on those days when he disappeared following the other crew members she had either stayed on set or gone back to the hotel. Of course she could have left the necklace on set, or in the room, but that wouldn’t make sense. Why would she go through the trouble unless she suspected he was using it to track her? No; she was still wearing it, of that he was sure. Too bad he couldn’t get away with putting a tracking device on the others. Neither of the cameramen wore the same watches everyday. He had seen Jack sport a fake Rolex often, but not everyday.
As a one person team in Hawaii it just wasn’t possible for him to keep track of everybody.
They had one more shoot here in Hawaii. If anything was going to go down on the island then it either already had or it would take place in the next few days. Otherwise, he would have to assume their next contact would be in either the Keys, or in Yellowstone National Park. Either location would be perfect. The park was so vast that they could hide anybody and anything in there without ever being noticed.
The Keys were so close to Cuba that if secrets were exchanged the mark could pick up and be gone before they even noticed it.
He needed help. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he couldn’t solve this case in time on his own. A situation like this meant The McGregor Affair
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he was going to have to drag a man away from his new wife. He picked up his phone, punched in one number and waited for the pickup.
“You’re needed in Hawaii.”
“I’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Drake said. He didn’t ask questions, which was one of the things Gavin always liked about the man. Drake was there when you needed him, lethal, skilled, ready to kill if need be. He was one of the few people Gavin trusted with his life; and one of the few he knew could piece this thing together faster than he could.
“Geneva and I were heading to my place in the Keys for a few weeks. I’ll put her on a plane first and then I’ll head out myself. I’ll meet you in Kauai;” he set up a meet time and place. They had to keep it casual just in case anybody tried to keep surveillance on him. He couldn’t be too sure. After Grant’s death, Gavin wasn’t willing to take any chances.
“I hope this won’t put me on her bad side.”
“She knows who I am,” he said without a hint of reservation.
“She knows what I do. It’s not a problem.” He hoped Drake was right. He hoped he wasn’t driving a wedge between the couple. There had been many women who claimed to know, and to understand, their lifestyle, but few had truly meant it. He thought of Sully’s marriage and what had happened to him. The difference was, Geneva was a good woman—of that he was sure; he doubted she would just run off while Drake was off trying to help save Capri Montgomery
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the world, but he knew he would feel guilty if he were the cause of any unhappiness for his friend. He had never seen Drake as happy with a woman as he was with Geneva.
“If it’s a problem,” he felt compelled to offer a way out just in case.
“Do you ever listen?” Drake’s tone was deadly serious. “It’s not a problem. But if it will make you feel any better…Geneva,” he called out. Gavin heard a faint response. “Gavin needs my help. I’m going to have to put you on that plane by yourself.” Gavin shook his head. That was not a diplomatic way of finessing the situation. Then again, when had Drake ever had finesse?
“When are you planning to join me?” He heard her ask.
“Not sure, honey. He needs my help.” He heard her laugh, and it sounded sincere. “Well, since you’re abandoning me for one of the guys, I’m taking my work with me.” He heard Drake curse. “You’ve got me there,” he said. “My wife doesn’t know the meaning of the words, take a break.” He laughed, but conceded to her bargain before promising her when he arrived she would indeed take a break.
“See; I told you it was fine.”
Gavin laughed. Those two were perfect for each other. “If you have time before you leave D.C. could you meet with Sully for me? I know the last time I talked with Langston he said Sully was checking The McGregor Affair
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out some things—something that might crack this case wide open. Find out if he knows anything that might help us here.”
“I’ll meet with Sully tonight. If he knows anything I’ll bring it with me.”
The knock on his door interrupted his call. With a quick wrap and disconnect, Gavin securely tucked his phone in the hiding place he’d deemed suitable for it before answering the door. What greeted him was surprise and treat rolled into one.
“London, where are the rest of your clothes?” Gavin scowled down at her. While he enjoyed seeing her slender legs, lean and tone, disappear beneath the mid-thigh length gentleman’s dress shirt he didn’t like the thought of her showing them to everybody else.
“I’m wearing all I need to wear,” she held up a bottle of wine and two glasses.
“Do you realize you’re in a hotel and not at home?” She shrugged. “My room is directly across from yours. So far nobody has seen me…of course if you leave me standing out here like this they just might.”
“Jesus,” he exhaled sharply and literally tugged her into his room before closing and re-securing the security lock the door. “Are you mad woman?” Clearly she was out of her mind to walk around half dressed in the hallway of a hotel.
“I love it when you brandish that accent,” she winked. “Very sexy. Is it from your father or your mother’s side?” Capri Montgomery
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He didn’t want to think about his father. He would always love the man because that’s what family did, they loved each other despite the betrayal
s, but he would never forgive him for betraying his mother, the marriage vows, the family.
“My father is Irish-American. My mother is black and Italian.
My father was born here, but raised in Ireland. My mother was born in the states, but went to school in Europe. She spent a lot of time in Italy and Ireland, where she met my father, and she had no trouble adopting the accent as her own. I guess I have her skill for dialect.” She nodded. The mix explained his natural tan. From what she had seen thus far of his body she couldn’t see much of a tan line which meant that subtle hint of bronze was all natural. She wouldn’t have suspected he had a hint of black in him, but then again, most people wouldn’t have looked at her and suspected she was part Irish.
“And to answer your question,” she placed the wine glasses on the standard hotel round table. “No; I’m not mad. I am in full possession of my faculties.”
“You’re not fully dressed.” He waved his hand at her clothing.
“I like walking around in men’s shirts. They’re so comfortable, and very easy to get out of,” she winked. “Wine?” He knew he should say no. He knew he should send her back to her room. No, he should go over, get her pants for her to put on and then send her back to her room. But one look at those smooth brown legs and all thoughts of sending her away vanished.
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“Just one glass.” He watched the smile spread across her lips. It wasn’t until he watched her pour a full glass of wine, nearly to the rim, that he realized what that twinkle in her eyes had been. She was devious, and definitely dangerous.
“You said one glass,” she handed him her idea of a glass of wine. Of course he noticed she hadn’t been nearly as generous with her own glass.
“That’s not your average glass of wine, London.”
“I’m not your average woman, Gavin.” He sat the wine down on the table and turned his full attention to the woman in front of him. “What is all of this, London?”
“The wine is a thank you gift for your being there for me earlier. I couldn’t have gotten through that scene without you.” She sat her own glass on the table. “The rest of this,” she gestured toward her body. “The rest of me; is my way of letting you know that I’d like to see if you’re as good in bed as you are with your kisses.” He knew that kiss earlier had been a mistake. At the time he hadn’t thought about not doing it…he hadn’t thought about doing it either or he would have realized the error of his ways. She was just so on edge, so nervous…and those lips, those lips could entice a saint.
When she looked up at him, the deep sweetness of her eyes, the sexy way her mouth moved, and then when she slid her tongue out over her bottom lip, he was gone. He needed to taste her, and so he did—devouring her mouth as if he needed it more than he needed to Capri Montgomery
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breathe. In that instant he knew he wanted more of this woman, more than just one kiss.
He thought the reaction was his alone. He was sure she had enjoyed the kiss because she had deepened it, returned lick for lick, but then, just as he had, she had carried on with the day’s shoot without even so much as a hint of her desire for him. He thought he alone was the one riding back to the hotel thinking about the kiss, the sensations that flooded his body when he had her pressed tightly to him. He now knew he was clearly mistaken.
Before he could give pause, she had the few buttons that were secured in their holes displaced, and a second later she slid the shirt from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. She was, by far, the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. She looked smooth and delicious, and he wanted to explore every inch of her. She was naked, except the black lace panties covering an area he was determined to get to. She tucked her fingers in the waist band of the panties and pulled two silver packages out of their resting place.
“These,” she held two condoms between her index and middle finger, “are to make sure you don’t have any reason for stopping at the wine.”
“I may look like vanilla, London, but I can assure you, deep down I am so much more.” Deep down he was a raging volcano just The McGregor Affair
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waiting to erupt inside of her. Let her not mistake his Irish charm for lack of spice because in the bedroom he was anything, but vanilla.
“Unless you want me with the same vigor that I want you I suggest you put your shirt back on and go back to your room.” He expected his words to give her pause, to send her fleeing for the safety of her own room and leaving him, with the hard on of the century, but at least his focus on his mission would still be in tact. Right now he was slowly forgetting who she was, and who she might be.
“I like vanilla,” she smiled. “Especially when it’s covered in chocolate.”
“Chocolate with a bit of Irish Cream,” he groaned as he looked at the temptation in front of him.
“It’s a delicious mix.” She moved closer to him, so close he could smell the faint sent of lemon on her body. He knew it was an essential oil she liked to use. He knew that because he had spent a lunch hour snooping around and he saw two mixes, one was the lemon in jojoba oil mix—the same one she had had on her nightstand when he had come to her room. The other was filled with a scent he had smelled on her during the day. It too was another essential oil blend, something with chamomile and rose, and something else…he wasn’t sure what, but he knew it smelled good. It was so subtle that he had to be practically on top of her to smell it, not that he had a problem with the close proximity at all. Her oils made her smell delicious, so much so that he wanted to rub his nose against her, let his tongue sample her, Capri Montgomery
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lick her, taste her, tease her. Tasting her seemed like a good idea right about now.
“Let me be the judge of that.” He reached out, clasped his big hand in her hair and pulled her close enough for his tongue to explore her mouth.
One kiss shouldn’t have ignited a firestorm of desire, lust, need and craving rolled into one. London pulled closer to him, allowing his arms to wrap around her tightly, holding her connected to his body as his tongue devoured her mouth, licking every inch, tasting her. It felt so natural, as if they gad done this before, done this forever. In that moment she allowed herself to let go of any reservations she may have had about dating a man she worked with, about fears that things might not work out between them. Instead, she enjoyed the heat coursing through her body.
She rose on tiptoe, deepening the kiss, eliciting a deep groan from him which she answered with a moan of her own. She wanted him naked, sure as she was.
She slid her hands beneath his t-shirt and slowly lifted. As if taking her hint, knowing her need, Gavin pulled the fabric over his head and quickly went to work on getting her to the bed. Lifting her naked body in his arms and carrying her the few steps it took to get her there. He let her down long enough to toss back the Hawaiian print The McGregor Affair
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comforter and then, as if she weighed nothing at all, he picked her up and tossed her onto the bed.
She watched as he tugged on his pants buckle, hurriedly removing the restrictive fabric, discarding his briefs in the process.
Within seconds he was on the bed with her, parting her legs and leaning over her.
The look in his eyes was primitive, desirous, consuming.
She wanted more of his kisses, but he obviously had other plans for his mouth because he went to work devouring her skin, sucking on her neck and trailing hungry kisses down to her breasts, where he took his time teasing and tasting. Subtle licks turned to hungry tastings and the firestorm it unleashed in her had her whimpering with need.
She fisted the sheets, arching her back and offering more of herself to him. The need, the passion, the desire, it was all consuming.
In this moment was where she wanted to be
, where she needed to be, and as he worked his way lower, kissing, sucking, licking her, tasting her like no man had done before, she felt on the verge of breaking.
“Gavin,” she moaned when his mouth found her delicate folds, his tongue slipping inside. “Oh, God…oh please,” she felt her body trembling with need. She needed release; needed it more than she needed to breathe, and when his tongue took one smooth lick against her delicate flesh she found her release, hard, explosive, pulsing pleasure that made her cry out again and again and again.
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He didn’t waste anytime licking and kissing his way back up her body, paying more attention to her breasts before kissing his way to her mouth. He made haste opening the condom and rolling it on before his lips found their way back to her mouth. There is where he devoured her once more as he slid deep inside her.
She could feel the width and length of him, building her to another state of ecstasy. “Gavin!” She lifted her hips, thrusting up toward him, spreading her legs to let him sink deeper. She wasn’t sure if she could take more of him, but she wanted more. She wanted this connection to his body. She wrapped her arms around him and tried to pull him closer. He, needing to be in control, untangled her arms from around his neck, pinning her wrist to either side of her head and holding them there as he thrust deep, hard, fast. And just when she thought he was going to push her over the edge he pulled back, not out, just back. He looked down at her. His eyes betrayed his control. There, in the depths of them, she saw his desire spilling over just as much as hers was. But he did control it. He held her hands there, looking in her eyes as he slowly rocked in and out of her. He held her gaze as if he wanted to be sure she knew who was inside of her, knew who was claiming her.
It was the slowness that was her undoing. She closed her eyes, tossing her head back as far as she could given her position on the bed.
“Look at me,” his voice was a low rumbling demand. He wanted her to look at him, demanded that she look at him, and so she The McGregor Affair
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