As she squirmed and wriggled to free herself from his grasp, Ruby watched the muscles in Michael’s arms strain to hold her still. With every twist, her buttocks brushed up against him which only seemed to entice him more.
“If you don’t stop wiggling you’re going to regret it.”
All movements stopped. Still held tight against his chest, Michael turned her around. Breathing hard from her efforts to escape his grasp, her breasts squeezed against the small material that barely covered them. She didn’t need to look down to know her nipples puckered.
“See how easy I subdued you. What are you going to do now?” he asked with a crooked grin.
Her hands pressed against his chest, the only thing she could do was wind her fingers in his curls of golden tipped hair. After twisting her fingers in them, she looked up into his searing blue eyes, gave him a seductive smile, and tugged.
With breakneck speed and a Russian oath, Michael released her. Ever since he’d been in the service and learned the foreign language, Ruby had come to know that word well. It was the only one she could pronounce. Every time he left her a voice mail he used the little endearment. It meant ‘bitch’. Lucky for him, she knew it wasn’t said derogatorily. Although at the moment it probably was. Oh, well. All’s fair in love and war.
* * * *
While attempting to make her escape, he grabbed her, and hauled her from the pool. He didn’t release her wrist until he dragged her across the patio and into the living room.
“That was cute and pretty creative, but you still didn’t get away.”
She ignored the murderous glare he sent her beneath arched brows. “Ha,” she exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. “That was damn good and you could admit it. We were in the pool so it was a little more difficult.”
“You never know when you’ll need to evade an attacker. It doesn’t necessarily have to be on land,” he said, his tone serious. “But, since you thought that was so clever and you weren’t able to get away, let’s try doing a real self-defense workout.” He moved the furniture to the outer edge of the room leaving a big enough space for them to fling each other about.
“You can’t show me moves on this carpet. It isn’t soft enough,” she complained.
“In the real world there aren’t going to be any fluffy mats. I don’t plan on hurting you by hurling you to the ground, at least not too hard.”
“I might have to drop you on your butt and you might not like it,” she shot back.
“We’ll see.”
“Yup, I guess we…”
One minute she stood on her feet, the next, she sprawled flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her. Dumbfounded, she blinked up at him in shock.
When she caught her breath, she said, “You do know you’re supposed to sweep a woman off her feet, not drop her on her ass.”
Aside from the first move, she managed not to get thrown to the ground or get tossed around—too much. He took it easy on her and she knew it. She was grateful, but at the same time annoyed.
“You need to remember you’re not trying to kill the other person. Your goal is to prevent injury to yourself and get free.”
“Why am I not trying to kill?”
“It’s more important to save your hide and get out alive.”
Still in their swimsuits they moved around the carpeted area like opponents in a ring. Michael showed Ruby how to break the hold from someone who grabbed her by the arms from the front. He continued to show her different holds, instructed her on releases. He demonstrated how to get loose from an attacker who seized her from the back by using her heel to smash the assailant’s instep or shin. Of course she already knew that trick as she had demonstrated on ‘Neanderthal Man’, Jake.
He taught her some offensive moves to go along with the defensive ones. Even if Ruby didn’t have a lot of power, if she placed her attack properly, she could do enough damage to get away. Michael illustrated how to use fingers or keys to gouge at someone’s eyes or their throat.
She knew that technique, too. A guy in college showed her that trick when there was a suspected rapist on campus.
Michael explained how to use the palm of her hand to break an aggressor’s nose with the correct upward thrust, but much to her chagrin, he wouldn’t let her test it on him.
“You ready for a break?” Michael asked.
“Why, you tired?” she asked, her chest heaving, trying to suck in more air.
“No, but you look like you’re about to drop.”
She panted, almost out of breath. In her opinion, self-defense was harder than the morning run.
Michael walked over to the mini-fridge at the bar and pulled out two bottles of cold water. Handing her one, she drank a little then stretched out on the floor trying to catch her breath.
Standing over her, he drank his water. Ruby watched fascinated, as every time he lifted the bottle to his mouth his biceps flexed and when he swallowed the muscles in his throat moved. She wished he would quench his thirst on her. They had worked up a sweat and the perspiration gave his tan skin a dewy sheen. Was a perspiring guy turning her on? Again?
He spotted her staring at him. He noticed everything about her. He took in the way her skin glowed, how her muscles twitched from a kind of workout she evidently hadn’t had in a long time. He observed her hazel eyes glint green from satisfaction of accomplishment or maybe lust. Maybe he hoped it was lust. Every time he saw her he wanted to touch her in a carnal way.
He wanted to pounce on top of her, remove what little clothing separated him from her round full breasts, and touch her. He yearned to kiss the rhythmic throb in her neck and see if it made her breath take a leap and her pulse beat faster like he remembered. Stop. Stop thinking that way. Michael had to shake it off and come to grips with the situation. The situation he created. The situation where her life was more important than his sexual urges.
“Michael?”
Her voice interrupted his thoughts. “Hmm?” What had she asked?
“Michael, what do you want to do now?”
What he wanted to do and what he should do were two different things. He wanted to pull her on top of him, push himself deep inside her, and have her ride him until they were both sated. “Uh...oh, I think we’ve done enough self-defense training for the day. You go get cleaned up then we’ll decide on dinner.”
He needed a shower, a cold one, but he had another reason for wanting her out of the way. He planned on getting a look at her computer and seeing what that bastard of an ex-fiancé did this time. “Get moving,” he said, pointing his finger at the bedroom door. “A shower is waiting for you and I’m starved.” Emphasizing his need for food, he rubbed his stomach. “Then if you’re up to it you can slave some more on the application.”
“It’s not an application. It’s more like a virus. I named it Illusion. It’ll track where Nicolas’s program takes the money from and deposited. He’ll think his software moved the cash, when in actuality the funds will have never left. The money will be safe and sound.”
“Do you name everything?”
“Well,” giving him a sly wink, she said, “not everything,” and giggled. “It seems you have a few names of your own, Big John.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Thank goodness for that.”
He offered her a stretched out hand, which she took. When he pulled her up, he tugged with enough force Ruby lost her balance, causing her to bump into his chest and he had to hold onto her to steady her.
Even through the chlorine and sweat her fragrance still lingered. He could identify the fruity soap she used, and that feminine something. He held her at arms length, turned her around toward the master suite, and gave her a pat on the buttocks.
“Go get showered and put some clothes on.”
“I have clothes on. Why don’t I just go jump in the pool instead and then we can go out?”
“No,” he said. “A shower would be better for your muscles and from where I’m standing that doesn’t constitute clothing
.” Waving fingers in the direction of her derriere, he went on. “Your fanny is hanging out and there’s hardly enough material to cover the front of you. Don’t bring that suit to Hawaii with you.” Not that he was complaining of the lack of fabric or of what he saw. He didn’t want anyone else eyeing what he wanted and meant to have. Again.
“Excuse me? There is nothing wrong with my swimsuit. I didn’t see you complaining the other day,” she said, her voice laced with icky sarcasm. “You’re not my father, you big prude. I don’t need your permission.”
He was glad he wasn’t her father. Otherwise, his thoughts would really be disgusting.
Michael moved closer and inclined his head. Before he uttered a word, Ruby felt his breath tickle her neck and a shudder trickle down her back. “I’m not trying to give you permission. I’m trying to look out for you. I think you may be inviting trouble if you wear something like that. I don’t want the Frenchman touching or even thinking of you in that way.”
Arching a brow, she tried to prevent a grin from spreading across her face. “Oh.”
“Don’t ‘Oh’ me girl. You know damn well you look like a ‘hottie’ in that swimsuit. It just might make the situation more dangerous.”
She laughed. “A ‘hottie’? You think I look like a ‘hottie’?” She trailed her fingers up his chest to tease the curls. His hands halted their movement. She glanced up, saw the heat of desire deepen in his eyes as they went from crystal blue to deep indigo.
Dropping her hands to her sides, she whirled away. “Dangerous for whom?” she asked over her shoulder and strolled into the bedroom.
Glued to the floor, Michael stood there, watching Ruby strut. He really wanted to chase after her, show her what he thought, how menacing he could be. Instead, he turned and went to his room muttering expletives. He had to keep his professional distance or one of them could get injured—or worse.
* * * *
In his bedroom, he went straight through the patio doors and to the pool deck. He was determined to see what had caused the scared look on Ruby’s face. He would have to deal with her ex soon, but right now he needed to concentrate on the situation he put her in.
Thanks to his missing partner, Michael wasn’t as ignorant about computers as Ruby assumed. Alex showed him a few tricks here and there, he thought begrudgingly, as he rubbed at his shoulder. By default, Instant Messenger had a log that turned on. A matter of a few keystrokes, and he located the file. A few more taps on the keyboard and the image of the eyes roaming back and forth popped up on the screen.
“What the…” He stared at the monitor, rubbing his chin in thought.
Curling his left hand in his hair, he used his right to scroll down the screen and found the next message. His fingers tightened and stilled.
“What kind of guy gets his jollies from harassing a beautiful woman with freaky images?”
“Michael! Michael, you conniving, sneaky bastard. Get away from Luey.”
Ignoring the steaming blonde, he continued to search her log files while she yanked and rattled the locked doors. She would break the glass panes if she didn’t stop.
Flabbergasted by the sheer number of messages her ex sent, not to mention the content, Michael realized she soft-soaped the story she told him. Staring at the message on the screen, he glimpsed the woman storming toward him in his peripheral vision. In an act of self-preservation, he braced himself, and decided to see her stumble with a question. In his sedate, threatening, don’t screw with me voice, he asked, “What does peek-a-boo, I see you mean?”
About a foot away from him, Ruby skidded to a halt. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a peek of her bronze colored legs and the bottom of a fuzzy pink towel. Taking in her appearance, smoke practically billowed from her ears, and fists on hips, her stance reminded him of Superman. To prevent the smile that threatened to overwhelm him, Michael gnawed his lower lip.
“I asked you what he meant by the peek-a-boo message.”
His question snapped her out of her stunned silence. “I don’t know.”
She reached for Luey. As she did, Michael grasped her wrist in an iron-like vise. She looked up. Pinned under his icy blue gaze, Ruby felt a chilly perspiration trickle down her back. His lips compressed into a firm tight line. Unmistakable, he was pissed and he didn’t plan to let her out maneuver him.
“Cat, this isn’t a game.” Before she could respond, he shook his head at her. Blue eyes penetrated hers, telling her she couldn’t lie. She felt like a scolded child. “Be honest.”
“Honest. You want honest, I’ll give you honest.”
“I don’t want it. I expect and deserve it,” Michael said in a cool tone.
“Honesty is a two-way street. You’re the one who coerced me into a shower for the sole purpose of sneaking around. You’re the one who snuck outside and accessed my computer without my permission. You’re the one who looked at my files—for the second time. That’s honest.”
When his words boomeranged, he didn’t even flinch. He tugged her wrist gently, but with enough pressure to bring her face within an inch of his. “I wouldn’t have had to sneak, as you put it, if you told me about the communication. Answer my question.”
“You read it,” she huffed at him. “I’m sure you can decipher the meaning for yourself.”
“I read all the messages.”
As her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise, Michael smiled in triumph. “That’s right, all of them. I’d say Thomas is a little beyond trying to win you back. I’d say he’s obsessed and won’t let go of you.”
“Maybe. But not in a bad way.”
“There’s no maybe about it. And there’s no such thing as a good obsession. After reading those,” pointing at the computer, he indicated the messages, “I’d say he’s on the verge of being dangerous.”
She waved him off. “He’s just upset because I’m the one who got away.”
“It has nothing to do with the one that got away and everything to do with you. How did he locate you? How did he get the phone number here? Is he here? Is he watching you right now?” With fear filled liquid eyes, she looked up at him, and he released her wrist. She blinked, sending a shimmering single tear sliding down her cheek.
Cupping Ruby’s cheeks in his hands, Michael brushed the solitary tear away wishing he could brush away the troubles of her life.
A single stroke from Michael’s hands could free all her fears or defeat anything that dared harm her.
“I don’t know,” she answered with quivering lips, “I really don’t know.”
“Thank you for the truth.” Michael wrapped his arms around her waist. “Ready to get some dinner?”
With remorse, she pushed herself from his embrace and looked down at her scarcely covered body. “I should get dressed.”
Goosebumps sprang up all over Ruby’s near nakedness as his eyes swept over her.
“Good idea.”
* * * *
Almost perfect. Dinner and sunset with the most beautiful woman, the evening had been almost ideal. It would have been flawless if he had possessed her, if he felt her body surrender to the flames of passion that ignited between them just as the sun succumbed to the horizon. Any other woman and he would have gone for the close. Any other situation and he would have seduced her. Now he had to be her boss, be professional, and maintain his distance.
Instead, he enjoyed a wonderful meal and Ruby’s company then went to separate bedrooms without as much as a chaste kiss, which is where he was now, lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
He tried shifting his mind in another direction but it still focused on Ruby, not just her, but the situation with her ex. If Ruby told him the truth, which he believed she had, then how had he found her? How had the guy gotten her phone number? He knew Ruby’s father wouldn’t tell him. Ruby hadn’t told him. In his opinion, she hadn’t known him long enough to give him the information about her parents’ vacation home, let alone marry the guy. The mere thought of another man touchi
ng her made him cringe.
Frustration had him toppling out of bed, pulling a shirt over his head. Shoving his fingers through his hair, he reached for the phone, grabbed the handset and dialed information. There was no listing for the Goodman’s. He hadn’t gotten it that way. Barefooted, Michael walked on the cool tile floor to the small study down the hall, turning on the emerald green banker’s lamp and the computer Ruby’s father left at the house.
While it came to life, he started the morning coffee. As it brewed, he searched the web for other ways of getting the phone number and address for the vacation home. He used the common search engines he knew of for finding people and their contact information. He used websites like www.four11.com, theyellowpages.com, and switchboard.com. After entering the pertinent information in at the different sites, he found nothing.
“How had the guy done it?”
Discouraged, he pushed himself back from the desk. As he paced back to the kitchen to retrieve his coffee, Michael kept asking that question. Maybe the caffeine would jolt another idea into his head.
He stared at the screen, drank the strong brew, and drew a blank. Sitting back in the black leather chair, his feet resting on the desk, Michael surveyed the office. He looked down, and then up. When a thought struck him, his feet swung off the desk, and he sat upright.
He typed in the URL for the DMV and tried the search there. Nothing. That was it, he couldn’t think of another way for your average asshole to locate a woman without hiring a private investigator. One eyebrow lifted. That was a possibility. But this guy seemed to like to do things himself. He wrote the emails, sent the letters, made the phone calls—did he kill her flowers? Was he here in person or did he hire someone to do his dirty work? The thought jolted him.
Who was Thomas? Michael had to find out.
TWELVE
She rapped on the doorjamb with her knuckles, and Michael’s head popped up. He didn’t respond, just stared at her.
It Happens in Threes Page 11
