Wicked Women Whodunit

by Davidson, MaryJanice

  That surprised her. She hadn’t thought he’d care why. Didn’t he have thousands of women throwing themselves at him? She ran her thumb and forefinger up and down the stem of her wineglass. “I guess because I met you once when we were kids. I know it’s stupid.” She saw no reason to lie to him. Not now, not after the e-mail that was going to cause him problems.

  He looked surprised.

  She went on before she chickened out. “My father was Miles Collins, the sports photographer. Your dad brought you with him for a shoot on a beach in San Clemente. You and I played in the waves while my dad did the shoot with your dad.” She didn’t mention her mother hovering around her father in her role as his greatest fan.

  Ark’s gaze sharpened as he thought for a second, then softened. “That was you? That scrawny little girl who got caught in the riptide?”

  He remembered. She rushed on to just get it over with. “Yes. Anyway, I’ve followed your career. My friends and I are huge NASCAR fans. And ...” She shrugged. How did she explain being such an idiot? Sitting across from the man made her fantasy seem even more stupid. “Anyway the e-mail was half a joke and half a way to put you out of my mind.” Tess slowed down and met his gaze to deal with the real issue. “I don’t know what Fred’s going to do with that e-mail, or if it can be fixed.”

  “There’s no fixing it. I just deal. And win.” He picked up his wineglass and drained it dry.

  Tess stared at him. At his large hand around the glass, then up at his hazel eyes. What she saw there reached deep inside of her. There were layers to this man. “Winning fixes it?”

  “No. Winning makes it worth it. Winning proves that I didn’t get where I am because of my dad, or pity after my dad died, or by breaking faces. It proves I earned my place.”

  Tess got that. It made sense. “I’m sorry about your dad, Ark. I heard when he died. He seemed like a very nice man. I’m sure he’d be very proud of you.”

  Ark shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Beneath the charm and humor of Ark, there was a man who had suffered and endured. It made Tess even sorrier about her e-mail. She had cut the man when she had only been thinking about a cardboard fantasy. “What happens when you don’t win?”

  His face relaxed. “I break faces.”

  Tess studied him. “Not anymore. You’re losing your bad boy touch, Hollywood. I can’t remember the last time you got in a fight on the track.”

  “I can.” He flexed his right hand in some kind of automatic gesture. “Seven years ago when I was twenty-three. I broke my hand when I tried to punch a driver who spun Giles and damn near killed him. Went home to my mom’s house to recover. I was there one day when the school called. Bobbie, my youngest brother, had been in a fight. Again. It didn’t take long to figure out that Bobbie was emulating me, his big brother. That was the day I decided to clean up my act and get control of my temper.”

  She knew much of Ark’s history from following his career. After his dad died, his mom continued to let him race. Probably, Tess guessed, he needed to race. It was his connection to his dad. But she also knew he’d lost his same-sex parent, which was essentially his guide to manhood. Without his dad, he’d had to figure out himself how to be a man. To a sixteen-year-old boy, that often meant being aggressive and fighting. But Ark had recognized his destructive path and skidded to a stop to turn his behavior around. For his brothers—to be the role model of manhood his brothers needed.

  That’s what family meant to Ark.

  Her stomach hollowed. It left her feeling off balance. She was growing to admire Ark for more than his driving. “The newspapers still call you the bad boy of NASCAR.”

  “It sells papers and tickets. And I give them reason occasionally. My publicist likes it; it gives her something to do.”

  Tess laughed. He had a great sense of humor.

  Ark leaned his forearms on the table. “You know, Doc, you’re very good. You’ve kept the conversation on me. But I want to learn more about you.”

  “There’s not much to learn.” She reached for her wine. It was easy to talk about him. She didn’t want to talk about herself.

  “But there is. I want to know all about your fantasy of me. Why would a beautiful woman like you choose a fantasy over a real man? Any man would be damn lucky to have you.”

  She sipped more wine and struggled for a way to deflect his question. “Who knows? Maybe I’m just not the passionate type.”

  “That is bullshit,” he said in a soft voice.

  Startled, she set her glass down and looked at him. “How would you know?”

  He reached out and took hold of her hand. “Because you’re a doctor and a black belt, both those things take passion. I know about going after what we want, Tess. I didn’t get where I am by being indifferent. I got here by wanting it bad enough to suffer broken bones, concussions, humiliating loses ... whatever it takes. And you didn’t get a black belt in karate unless you took a few bruising punches, kicks, or suffered the pain it took to master the technique. So maybe you haven’t been with the right man, but it’s not lack of passion on your part.”

  She blinked. He wasn’t what she expected. He was more ... sexy, thoughtful, and yet, she could feel the physical strength in his hand. He was also honest. And what he said about the passion it took to succeed was true. She just hadn’t thought about herself as passionate. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this.” She also couldn’t believe she just said that. But it felt good to talk about it.

  He shrugged. “Why not? Isn’t talking what you do?” He looked down at his hand holding hers, then back up to her eyes. “You got me to talk.”

  “I just asked you questions.” People liked to talk about themselves if you asked the right questions.

  He held her gaze. “You were interested in what I had to say. In who I am. And I’m interested, very interested, in talking to you about passion and sex. Tell me about your desires, Tess.” His voice was rich and seductive.

  She blushed, shook her head, and reached for her glass of wine with her free hand.

  He didn’t laugh at her, but said, “How about I tell you mine? I’m tired of sex with girls after me for my fame or money. I want to make love with a woman who isn’t after something from me, except honest pleasure.” He turned her hand to rub his thumb along her palm.

  His touch on her palm was firm, yet light. Frissons of pleasure and desire mixed with the wine to warm her skin. A craving for more of Ark’s touch formed deep in her belly. Before she could think of a response that didn’t include crawling over the table and into his lap, their waitress came with their meals.

  Ark let go of her hand. After the waitress got their plates situated and brought them more wine, she left.

  Tess busied herself slathering sour cream on her potato, a little salt and pepper on her steak, then cutting into her meat. Finally, she couldn’t stand it. “How do you know I’m that woman? The woman who wants honest pleasure?”

  Ark bit into a rib and chewed. He watched her for a second, then grinned, deepening the cleft in his chin. “You told me the truth about the e-mail. About yourself. No one would admit to a story like that unless it was the truth.”

  He had a point there.

  He kept his intense hazel-colored gaze on her. “And we have chemistry. You can’t fake that. I knew from the first moment you ran into me.”

  Tess realized she hadn’t had chemistry with Fred—she had been trying to force herself into another safe relationship that wouldn’t cause her pain. That troubled her. Her life’s work was about facing problems, not hiding from them. She ate some of her potato and got her thoughts in order.

  He added, “I want to make love to you. I want to have the entire night to concentrate on you. Just you. Every single part of you.”

  Her breath shot up into her throat, while a tingling spread from her thighs straight up to her breasts. Tess ate some more of the tender steak and tried to look normal, not like a slut in heat. She needed a dose of reality to cool her lust.
“Supposedly you like more than one woman at a time.” If he was going to probe her weakness, and talk about sex, then it worked both ways.

  “Are you asking me if I’m into the orgies? If the accusations Fred tossed around are true?”

  She looked him in the eyes. “Yes.”

  The waitress came and cleared their plates, then brought Tess’s cake and two forks.

  Ark stared at her the entire time.

  Finally they were alone again. Ark picked up the forks and handed her one while holding her stare. “No, Doc, I’m not into orgies or multiple partners. I like to focus on one woman. I want to see her, smell her, touch her, and know everything there is to know about her.” He nudged her hand to take the fork from him and added, “And then drive myself into her until she explodes beneath me.”

  When his fingers touched hers, the contact slammed into her, and heat curled inside of her stomach. He made her want to lean closer to him, get closer to him. Okay, face it, she wanted to get naked with him. God. “But you don’t know me.” She took the fork and dropped her gaze to cut a piece of cake.

  He reached out and caught her hand. “I know you don’t sleep around, have a conscience and care about your work, are disciplined enough to get a black belt, and don’t tolerate idiots like Fred. I know you trust your friends.”

  She raised her eyebrows at that one. Though she was shocked at how much he did know. How much he had heard and processed.

  He grinned. “Or you wouldn’t have sent them the e-mail about me.”

  “True.”

  “And I know I’m that man who stirs your passion. I can see it in your eyes, feel it in the tension in your hand.” He brought her hand to his mouth.

  Tess watched him move his mouth over her hand, felt his lips brush her sensitive skin and shivered. A once in a lifetime chance to see what the whole passion thing was all about—with the very man she’d fantasized about for years.

  He had saved her life once, and though he had been just a boy, Tess didn’t think the grown man would hurt her. She really did feel she could trust Ark.

  And damn it, she wanted him.

  Three

  Ark poured two glasses of wine from the wet bar/kitchen combo in his hotel suite. Then he walked toward the leather couch.

  Tess sat there looking at a list of movies he’d handed her. He remembered her. The rush of fear when he looked over and realized Tess had been swept away by a riptide was part of the reason she stayed in his memory. His dad’s obvious pride in him for getting her out of the riptide was another. But what really cemented the memory was what his dad said to him on the way home. “Ark, I love you more than driving stunt cars. You know that, don’t you? You, your brothers and your mom, you guys are my life.” As an adult now, Ark understood that his father had been upset at the coldness of Tess’s parents. That he didn’t want his family to ever feel as if they were in the way of his career. But at thirteen, he’d been a little surprised and embarrassed.

  But those words had lived with Ark after his father died, a reminder of his dad’s love and his belief in him. That memory had helped him deal with his dad’s sudden death. Tess had no idea of the gift she had left him with.

  And now she was here. Grown up from a scrawny kid to a warm, vibrant, and sexy woman.

  It’d been years since he’d wanted a woman this badly. She was beautiful with her long brown hair cascading down over her shoulders, left bare by the halter top of her dress. Her brown eyes were on the movie list, but he could practically see her mind working.

  He doubted she’d read a word of the list. Instead, he guessed that she was going over her decision to be here with him. Typical shrink.

  But it was more than her looks that got him. It had been her honesty. She’d been in an awkward, humiliating position with that e-mail, and she’d told him the truth. She believed in the truth. Ark lived in a strange world where the press and media and, to be honest, his sponsors, agents, publicist, etc., created their own truths. Being the bad boy of NASCAR generated controversy that attracted more fans.

  And a few drivers out to slam him into walls. He got along fine with most drivers now. But a few resented the media coverage he got. It was war out there on the track.

  So Tess’s honesty touched him. Writing an e-mail was such a shrink way of attacking a problem. Sex problem. A woman who earned a black belt had passion. A woman who earned a PhD had passion. What she’d lacked was a man she could trust.

  Until now.

  This was why he was determined to watch a movie and give her time to relax. He held the glass of wine out to her. “See anything?”

  She jerked her head up. “Not really.”

  Ark sat down next to her on the couch. He took the list and tossed it onto the coffee table. “Tell me more about yourself. When did you get your black belt? What discipline is it in?”

  She eased back against the couch. “Five years ago. One of my friends, Josie, and I both took karate in college and got involved. It’s American-style karate. Now I teach a class.”

  Her eyes lit up. He could see that she loved karate. But he wanted to know more about the core of her. He decided to ask about her family. “A PhD and black belt ... your family must be very proud. I bet your sisters and brothers don’t give you a hard time. You could either analyze them to death or beat the crap out of them.” He could smell the orange blossom scent—he thought it was from her hair. He wanted to touch the long wavy strands, wrapping them around his hand.

  Tess looked away. “My parents died in a car accident over a decade ago. No brothers or sisters.” She took a sip of wine, then turned back to him and said, “You have two brothers, right?”

  Christ. He hadn’t expected that about her folks. Her parents hadn’t seemed like June and Ward Cleaver but to lose them both had to be awful. He also noticed she changed the subject, but left it alone. “Yeah, Nick and Bobbie. Nick’s doing some stunt driving around finishing up college. He’s good at it, just like our dad was. Bobbie is into football and girls. Mostly girls.” First year of college, the boy had hormones the size of Rhode Island. “My mom held us all together after my dad died.” Who held Tess together? He leaned forward and set down his wine.

  “You’re close with your mom and brothers?”

  Ark put his arm around her, resting his hand on her bare shoulder. “Yes. They’ll be around this weekend, so you’ll probably meet them. But I’m more interested in you. How old were you when your parents were in the accident?”

  “Fifteen, it was a long time ago. Does your family come to all your races?”

  He moved his hand to rub circles around the curve of her shoulder, enjoying the feel of her firm muscles beneath soft, smooth skin. “In California, they do. Our home is in Valencia. Otherwise, they fly in if they have the time or inclination. I usually take a suite so there’s plenty of room.”

  She tensed up. “They will stay here? I should leave.” She sat forward.

  Ark dropped his hand to her waist and was surprised at the stab of panic. He didn’t want her to leave. “Tess, relax, they won’t come until Saturday. It’s a two-room suite, and this couch pulls out to a bed. You don’t have to go.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t move.

  Ark wondered what the hell her reaction to his family staying with him was about. “Tess, come here,” he lifted her and pulled her onto his lap. Setting her firm ass on his thighs, it was all she could do to hang on to her wine. Which kept her from fighting him. Once he got her settled, he touched his hand to her face. “You’re not leaving, not tonight. You had two glasses of wine at the restaurant and one here. I don’t want you driving.” She roused a protectiveness in him.

  She took a breath.

  Probably to tell him to go to hell. He didn’t give her the chance. “I have two rooms. If you change your mind about sleeping with me, you’re welcome to sleep in there.”

  She met his gaze. “I haven’t changed my mind. I just thought ... if your family was here ... I wouldn’t belong here.”


  He raised his eyebrows. “Why the hell not?” Most women tried to ingratiate themselves into his family. This was new. And if he wanted a woman friend in his hotel suite, he was thirty years old. He didn’t have to ask his mother’s permission, for Christ’s sake.

  She shifted on his lap. “Because, they are your family.”

  She was serious. Ark couldn’t help but wonder why. Probably something to do with losing her parents so young and not having brothers or sisters. “Forget my family. All I want to think about tonight is you.” He slid his hand into her hair—so thick and soft it slid sensually over his skin—and pulled her mouth to his.

  She leaned into his kiss. Her mouth soft, her lips tasting like the wine. He wanted more, needed more. With gentle pressure from him, she opened her mouth. Her hot breath drove him crazy. He wanted to taste all of her and slid his tongue inside. She responded until he groaned as his cock strained against his pants to get to her rounded butt.

  He broke the kiss. Took her wineglass and set it on the side table. Then he reached up under her heavy hair for the tie that held the top of her dress in place. “I like this dress, Doc. But I want to see your breasts.” He pulled the tie open and tugged down the two ends. Leaving her bare.

  Damn, she was hot. Full mounds topped with very erect nipples. A slight flush spread over the tops of her breasts and up her chest. Can’t have the doc thinking too much. Ark took one full breast in his palm and drew his thumb back and forth across the distended nipple.

  She shivered, her hands clutching his shoulders.

  He wanted more. He leaned forward and took the other nipple into his mouth, suckling and moving the tip of his tongue on the pebbled surface.

  She arched her back, and he took her more deeply in his mouth. Every time she shivered or squirmed, it was torture on his dick. Lifting his head, he looked up into her face.

  Flushed. Swollen lips, and dark swollen nipples. She looked like a woman ready for sex. The way she responded to him was every man’s wet dream. He had no idea why she thought otherwise. “I want to make love to you on a bed, Tess.” He reached his hand down to her knee, then slid up to her smooth muscular thigh. “I want to pull off your dress, then your panties.” He moved his hand higher, up to the edge of her panties around her thigh.