Veiled Intentions

by Delores Fossen

  “Addison and I started dating after his fiancée broke off their engagement.” She moistened her lips again and ran her index finger over her eyebrow. “He was devastated, said he needed me. He even told me that he was in love with me.”

  “And then what happened?” Joe asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I really don’t. He changed, said it wasn’t right for him to see me since I was a client. He said he didn’t want something like that getting back to his father.”

  Yes. Merrick definitely wouldn’t want that. From all accounts, his father wouldn’t have approved of anything that might be detrimental to the business.

  “Sometimes, I wonder if Addison’s the Veiled Sniper,” Fiona said softly. “I mean, all three of those grooms were men I once dated.”

  “Push that button,” Katelyn whispered to Joe, knowing he would have probably jumped on it anyway.

  But the pushing wasn’t even necessary. Fiona continued on her own. “I think Addison needs help.”

  “Yeah. I’ve heard he’s in therapy with Dr. Kent,” Joe answered.

  Fiona made a sound. A soft burst of sarcasm that didn’t contain any humor. “Now, there’s a pair. The sick trying to heal the sick.” Her gaze flew to the window again. “I believe Addison’s mentally unstable.”

  The BMW was back, slowly weaving its way through the parking lot like some demon on the prowl. Those tinted windows only made it seem more menacing.

  “What makes you say that?” Joe asked, drawing Fiona’s attention back to him.

  “He threatened to kill me. Just two weeks ago, I went to the icebreaker at Perfect Match, and he ordered me out. He said he was going to hire a security guard and if I came back, he’d have the guard take care of me. Is that unstable enough for you?” Fiona snatched up her purse but left her sunglasses lying on the table. “Excuse me. I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

  Unfortunately, the ladies’ room was close to the booth where Katelyn was sitting. While she tried to keep an eye on the car and Fiona, she lifted the newspaper high enough so the woman couldn’t see her face. It worked. Maybe because Fiona was in a serious hurry.

  “Where’s the BMW?” she heard Joe whisper through the communicator.

  “Still circling the place. Should I call a cruiser to pull him over?”

  “No. There’s no law against driving around a parking lot. Plus, I don’t want him to think we have any connection to the police.”

  Both good points, but it didn’t make it any easier to sit there and watch him. “You think Fiona’s opinion of Merrick is an act?”

  “Could be. She’s wired, and it’s not from the coffee. She’s either scared of Merrick or of her own shadow.”

  “Or maybe she’s just jittery about sitting in a booth with the man she’s thinks will be her next victim?”

  “That, too,” Joe said calmly. Too calmly for Katelyn’s liking. After all, they were talking about a potential plan to murder him. “We’ll tail her when she leaves and see what she’s up to.”

  The moment Joe said the words, he fired another glance at Katelyn. She understood it without further explanation. “Keep an eye on the BMW, and I’ll check on Fiona.”

  “Be careful,” he warned.

  Katelyn kept her head low and her hand on her concealed weapon when she went down the short hallway and eased open the swinging door. The bathroom was small. Just one stall. A sink. And an open window.

  The room was empty.

  Their murder suspect wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Anything?” Katelyn called out when she heard Joe end his phone conversation with headquarters.

  “Nope. No sign of Fiona.”

  She groaned, but it was exactly the news she’d expected. After all, Fiona had managed to elude the police most of the week, so it wasn’t surprising that she’d been able to slip out of a bathroom window at the coffee shop and go on the run again.

  Of course, it would have been nice if Joe and she had anticipated that little maneuver so she could have posted herself outside the window and stopped the woman. Instead, they had to accept the fact that Fiona had provided them with a lot more questions than answers and then lulled them into allowing her to escape.

  Since hindsight wasn’t doing much to improve her mood, Katelyn moved on to the second point of contention.

  The wedding dress.

  Or more specifically, her mother’s wedding dress.

  The metaphorical dead fish wrapped in newspaper.

  In the adjoining room she heard Joe open the fridge. Maybe an early dinner would keep him occupied while she tried on the dress. It wasn’t really modesty that made her want him to stay on the other side of that wall. She just didn’t want him to get the idea that she had stars in her eyes and marriage—a genuine marriage—on her mind.

  She didn’t.

  Really.

  But she still found herself mumbling profanity under her breath when she held the dress in front of her and glanced at herself in the mirror.

  Katelyn frowned.

  What was it about lace and silk that managed to make a woman look great, even when that woman didn’t want such cosmetic changes? She was practically glowing, and she wasn’t the glowing sort.

  Was she?

  After dwelling on it for a couple of miserable seconds, she realized the idea was growing on her. Well, growing on her if the glowing part included Joe.

  She was definitely in trouble.

  Since it was making her depressed and since there was no chance she’d be able to do the dozen silk-covered back buttons by herself, Katelyn put the dress aside and moved on to an important logistics problem.

  Her weapons.

  Hiking up the satiny floor-length slip to her waist, she planted her bare foot on the bed and strapped on a leg holster. Then a second one on her other leg. They’d make great backups, but she still needed a primary position with better accessibility. It’d take her too long to work her way through the yards of silk to get to two semiautomatics. Those excess yards could get them killed—a thought she quickly pushed aside.

  That thought didn’t stay pushed aside, however.

  It came back with a vengeance, and every worst-case scenario started racing through her head. The sniper opening fire. Joe in the path of the bullets. Or Joe protecting her by throwing himself in the path. No matter which way it played out, he’d be right there.

  Directly in the path.

  Of course, she’d almost certainly do the same, which meant they’d be so busy protecting each other that it would increase the risk a hundred times over.

  With each image came the inevitable slam of adrenaline. An increase in her heart rate. A tightening of her muscles. Her imagination was a little too good, because her body was reacting as if the danger was right there in the room with her.

  Which in a way, it was, she soon realized.

  “Lara Croft has nothing on you,” Joe commented.

  He was standing in the doorway, one hand bracketed on the frame. A beer in his other hand. With his shirt unbuttoned, his hair mussed and that desperado stubble shadowing his sexy chin, he looked like the main player in her darkest fears. Her hottest fantasies.

  And like the source of her only sanctuary.

  She wasn’t sure which one worried her most.

  “Maybe you can put your primary in your bouquet?” he suggested.

  She heard herself mumble it’s not big enough, but the truth was his comment barely penetrated her consciousness. Katelyn turned and went to him. Not for sex. It would have been so much easier if it’d been just for that. But she needed to melt into his arms. She needed to feel that all would be right with the world. At the moment, she just wanted those frightening images of snipers and death to go away. Joe could do that for her. He could become her sanctuary.

  And he cooperated.

  Joe put his beer on the dresser. As if he had all the time in the world, he circled his arm around her. He drew her to him and t
ouched his mouth to hers. Slow and lingering. Tender. A touch that gave her a little too much time to consider exactly what was happening.

  Her slip was cut low in the back, and Joe skimmed a finger down her bare skin, tracing her spine all the way down.

  The heat rolled through her.

  “I won’t have to think about this if it’s fast,” she whispered against his mouth.

  “I know.”

  With that assurance, he didn’t speed up. In fact, that single stroking, sliding finger on her back slowed to a trickle. Hardly a touch at all. He handled her like fragile, paper-thin crystal and fueled a lot of flames in the process.

  Did he know what this was doing to her?

  No doubt.

  Katelyn tried to speed things up on her own. She French kissed him. Deep and hungry. And then took those kisses to his ear, and then his neck. A major attention getter, she’d already learned, and his slight rattle of breath let her know she’d gotten his attention in exactly the way she wanted to get it.

  She pushed down the slip, stepped out of it, and with his cooperation, she maneuvered them across the room.

  The cooperation didn’t continue.

  Joe stopped them just short of the bed. He leaned down. No hurried motion, either. He brushed a kiss on the top of her right breast. Then on the left. He kept going down. Kissing. Her stomach. Her hip. The lower front of her panties. Until he reached for her ankle.

  Finally, she thought. Finally!

  This would lead to something wild, hot and fast. A bout of mind-boggling sex that would occupy her mind so she wouldn’t worry. But he slid his clever hand up, over her leg. Over her knee. And slowly, leisurely made his way to her thigh.

  He was getting closer, but it definitely wasn’t where she wanted his hand.

  “Joe?” Katelyn whispered, trying to convey the urgency. She got off his shirt, somehow, and had the pleasure of feeling his chest muscles jump beneath her fingers.

  “Shh,” he answered, his warm breath brushing against her skin. He unstrapped her holsters, one by one, and laid them on the nightstand. “It’s all right.”

  But was it? Was it really?

  The room seemed to be turning. Not quickly, either. Slowly, like his touch. Like some gentle spiral pulling her down into it. She couldn’t catch her breath. And why was her heart pounding so hard? It wasn’t the only thing pounding, either. Every inch of her ached. Pulsed.

  Burned.

  This wasn’t sex. It couldn’t be. This was something leaps and bounds beyond that. Something so intimate, it frightened her almost as much as those other deadly images in her head.

  Shaken, Katelyn tried again, pulling Joe onto the bed next to her. She succeeded and even managed to shove down his pants and anchor her leg over his so he wouldn’t move away. It didn’t stop his slow, methodical hands or mouth. He kissed her. Touched her.

  Really touched her.

  Those fingers moved over her. Exploring. Discovering. Pleasuring her.

  He slipped his hand into her panties. He was definitely getting closer, but what she had in mind was having him inside her. Now.

  “I have a condom,” she said in between breaths. Just in case that was the issue here. She’d picked up some when Joe had filled up the car at the convenience store and had gotten a strange look from the clerk.

  “I have some, too,” he informed her right back.

  Okay. So if safe sex wasn’t the issue, then what the heck was?

  With those same slow strokes that matched his incredibly slow kiss, he eased his fingers inside her. Not especially deep. But then, deep wasn’t necessary. He got the right spot.

  Definitely.

  The right pace. That, too.

  And he even had the perfect pressure to make her forget all about the speed that she’d thought she wanted.

  No.

  She wanted this instead.

  And Katelyn suddenly didn’t care if it took all night for him to get her there.

  It occurred to her that she should be pleasuring him as well, but even that thought faded when he turned them until they were face-to-face, and he slid down her body. His hair, his face, his mouth brushed against her skin. Joe kissed her along the way, not missing any available spot, before he rid her of her panties.

  In a move that had her wondering what she’d done to deserve this special treatment, or Joe, he replaced those clever fingers with his mouth.

  The room didn’t just turn. It whirled around. Her breath vanished. Her heart slammed against her chest. And she was lost. Willingly lost.

  Katelyn moaned, arched into him and ran her own hand into his hair. Her body sought out everything he was giving her. His mouth and tongue took her higher. Higher. Higher. Until letting go was her only option.

  So she did. Katelyn let go. And Joe sent her world spinning out of control.

  IT DIDN’T TAKE long before Katelyn came back down to Earth. Mere seconds. Not that Joe had expected her to languish in the aftermath, especially when she realized he’d pulled a fast one on her.

  Or rather, a slow one.

  That climax obviously had its intended effect—to take off the edge. To lessen some of that raw energy inside her so they could spend a little time—all right, a lot of time—just enjoying each other.

  It worked.

  She moved almost lazily and smiled the smile of a sated woman—who planned to do some sating of her own.

  Katelyn tugged off his boxers while she reached over and took a condom from her purse on the nightstand. She did all the work of putting it on him and made his eyes cross in the process.

  When she finished, he caught the back of her neck and pulled her to him. He kissed her. Hot and deep. And did a necessary repositioning of their bodies so that she was on top of him and so that he didn’t hurt her arm. He took a moment to savor the sight of her.

  All that strength.

  All that beauty.

  Leaning forward, she slid her hands slowly over his chest, her palms gliding through the sweat that already dampened his skin. “Ready for the ride of your life?” she whispered like a challenge.

  “Are you?” he fired back.

  She laughed. And he savored that as well, for a moment or two, before he moved just slightly beneath her. The tip of his erection grazed her. And judging from the way her eyelids fluttered and the shudder that went through her body, he’d grazed her in just the right place.

  That sent her in search of him. Not that she had to search far, but she shifted. Restlessly. Seeking. Joe did some seeking of his own.

  One thrust, and he was inside her.

  Oh, man.

  It was better than he’d anticipated. A hell of a lot better. And his anticipation had been pretty darn high.

  She reared up, her fiery hair like a halo around her face. Bracketing her hands on his chest, she began to move. Joe caught her hips, to guide her, to take them both where they needed to go.

  Picking up the pace, she rocked and slid against him. Their bodies creating the friction. The deep, intimate contact. The rhythm. Until she had him close. This wasn’t simply to take off the edge, either. She was obviously aiming for something he’d never forget—as if he ever could.

  Then, she stopped.

  Just stopped.

  Joe fought through the haze and stared at her to see why she’d done that.

  “What’s wrong?” he managed to say.

  She hovered above him, staring, and then she reached down and laced her fingers with his. “Are you okay with me being on top?”

  It wasn’t exactly a question he’d been expecting, and even though just about every inch of him was throbbing for release, he took the time to grasp what she was saying.

  And what she was saying was a lot.

  He nodded. It was the best he could manage. For some reason, his throat had clamped shut.

  Katelyn returned the nod, and there was no apprehension, no hesitancy in her clear green eyes when she lowered her body and lay against him. Her bare breasts aga
inst his chest. Her face touching his.

  Without fully breaking the intimate contact of their joined bodies, she slowly rolled over. Until their positions were reversed. Until he was looking down at her.

  Joe held his breath.

  “It’s good,” she said, sounding not surprised but rather pleased with her decision.

  He held his breath a little longer, until she moved. Not a move to get away from him, either. But up. With some not-so-gentle pressure, she dug her heels into the mattress, lifted her hips, then wrapped her legs around him.

  And sent him sliding deep inside her.

  Now he breathed. Long and rough. He fought to keep a restraint on everything that she’d unleashed inside him, but it was a fight he knew he’d soon lose.

  “Am I too heavy for you?” Joe asked. Not easily, but he asked it anyway because it was important.

  “No.” She repeated it and kissed him. “It’s a lot better than I ever thought it would be.”

  “I know the feeling,” he mumbled.

  And he was absolutely sure she knew he wasn’t just talking about their present position.

  He tested the waters and moved inside her. A short, quick, easy stroke. The test was a success.

  Man, was it ever.

  After a few more of those testing strokes, his body was already pleading with him to take this, and her, to the next level. But then, Katelyn’s body was doing the same. Despite her climax only minutes earlier, he felt the aftershocks gain new life before they’d even fully subsided.

  Still careful not to make her feel trapped beneath him, Joe gathered her into his arms. He took everything she offered. Everything. And he made sure he gave it right back to her. He moved high against her, hard inside her. Deep. Sliding through the slick, hot moisture of her body.

  When she begged him for more, he gave it to her. He went higher still and found a responsive, sensitive spot that made her shudder.

  She insisted on more.

  He gave it to her.

  No longer wary of her response, he pinned her hands to the bed and was pleased when she jerked and twisted beneath him. Not to get away. No, the throaty moan, the half smile, the scorching look in her eyes was the best welcome home, Joe he could have ever gotten.