Coming Soon

by Jo Leigh

  “You want me to stay?”

  Even though she was but a few steps from the bathroom, she stopped, turned completely around and put her hands on her hips, which looked even tinier in her big sleep shirt. “We’re not going to have this argument. I need you here. You need to be here. End of story.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Okay. Now I really need to pee.”

  He smiled as she disappeared behind the door, but his grin faded along with his energy. Just thinking about going to bed made him dizzy with yearning.

  Tonight, at least, nothing was going to happen except sleep. Tomorrow things might change, but tonight? Healing took precedence. Rest. And some food wouldn’t hurt.

  Mia came back, and after settling her down, he dug up the room service menu. It was more like a novel, it had so many pages, although many of those were filled with the extensive wine selections.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but just for soup. They make a fabulous War Wonton. I’ll have that.”

  He ordered them both dinner, not even flinching at the prices, then emptied his pockets in preparation for bed. He didn’t, however, take off his shoulder holster. His weapon would be damn close to wherever he was sleeping. Which appeared to be on the left side of the big old bed.

  He kicked off his shoes and climbed aboard. She was close, touching distance. But, he reminded himself for the tenth time, not tonight. “You good?”

  “I’m good.”

  “I heard back from my source in Mexico. Well, my partner’s source.”

  “Wow, tell me.”

  “It seems someone, a local girl who was working on the Weinberg picture, was killed during the filming.”

  “I kind of figured it had to be a big deal, but I didn’t think it would be another murder.”

  “There’s no proof that it was a murder. According to the police from Churubusco, it was an accident. Somehow she got hold of what she thought was a prop gun. Only it had real bullets. She was dead before she hit the ground.”

  “But if that’s what happened, why would Nan be all upset about it?”

  “According to my friend, the official story was a lot more about bribes than truth. A murder investigation would have stopped filming, would have cost Weinberg a hell of a lot. He wasn’t insured for a murder, not like with this picture.”

  “Lesson learned, huh?”

  “Yeah. I think someone from the company killed that girl, and it wasn’t an accident at all. My friend said the hardest part for the Churubusco police was covering up the fact that the girl had ligature marks on her ankles and wrists.”

  “Oh, God. How does he know this stuff?”

  “Miguel’s friend is the captain of a major precinct in Mexico City. He was working his way up the food chain back then. He knows a lot of people.”

  “So who do you think did it? My money’s on Oscar. He just creeps me out.”

  “I’m having a meeting tomorrow with that massage guy, Larry. I want to find out what freaked him out so badly.”

  “You can’t just go get those memory thingies from Weinberg’s room? I bet you a zillion dollars there’s enough evidence in there to lock him away for a long time.”

  “And I’d be willing to bet the farm those memory cards are long gone from Weinberg’s suite. But that doesn’t mean we won’t find them. At the moment though, my main person of interest is Nan. Her name just keeps cropping up. I’m going to find out why.”

  “She’s very vain, you know. Desperate for compliments.”

  “I wonder, do you think she can act?”

  “I don’t know. She’s been at it for awhile and she keeps getting little roles in Weinberg pictures.”

  “Someone told me she was offered a recurring role on a TV series.”

  “When?”

  “Recently.”

  “That’ll change her life.”

  “Not really. She turned it down.”

  Mia turned too quickly in her surprise and she hissed at the pain. “That makes no sense. She’s been a bit player for years and she was pathetically grateful when she thought I’d seen her work.”

  “Exactly. Something is fishy there. Even if she doesn’t know everything, I’m willing to bet she knows a lot.”

  “Go get ’er Bax. Make her sing like a bird. Squeal like a rat.”

  “Pills?”

  Mia sighed. “I hope so.”

  MIA’S HEAD FELT BETTER, especially now that it was cradled in the nook of Bax’s neck. She’d slept after dinner, amazingly comfortable next to him.

  He’d called his friend Grunwald—did he have a first name?—who’d brought an overnight case and some clothes. They’d talked in the other room as she’d drifted in and out, but now they were down for the night, Bax in his pale blue pajama bottoms, her in the sleep T Piper had picked up for her.

  It was as if they’d done this a hundred times before. Maybe it was the pills, but she doubted it. There was a connection between them, and she was too tired and sore to do anything but be glad for it.

  He had the TV on, showing some creature feature, but the sound was down so low she wondered if he could even hear it. The glow in the bedroom was nice, though.

  His arm was around her shoulders, and as she’d assured him, he wasn’t hurting her at all. His hand with those nice long fingers rested just under her neck.

  She was almost glad that they couldn’t do more than this. It would be nice to feel better and to get to know his body, feel him inside her, but for now she wanted his comfort. She loved that she could touch his bare chest, with that nice soft smattering of dark hair. That she could feel him breathe and know that he would be there when she woke.

  It still made her throat close when she thought about all Piper had done for her. It amazed her, and humbled her, and made her more determined than ever to be the best employee Hush ever had. She would make up for her lapse in judgment, that was a solemn promise.

  No matter what happened, she was going to show Piper and Bax that their faith in her wasn’t a mistake.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  “I’m fine. I thought you were asleep.”

  “I was. But I’m not used to all this luxury.”

  “I know, the bed is awesome.”

  “I meant having you next to me.”

  She sighed.

  “I think you’re supposed to have another pill soon.”

  “I don’t need one. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? It’s been four hours.”

  “Honest. My head hardly hurts.”

  “What about your shoulder.”

  “If I’m still, it’s okay. Don’t worry about me. You need to sleep.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “It has been a long couple of days.”

  “You didn’t introduce me to your partner.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Ashamed of me, are you?”

  “No. Him. He’s a good detective but he’s better when he doesn’t have to actually speak to people.”

  She laughed. “Is that why he’s never here?”

  “Uh-huh. Grunwald likes the detail work. He does the reports, follows up with the lab, tracks down suspects on the computer.”

  “You don’t like that stuff?”

  “Nope. I like talking to real people, hearing their voices and watching their body language. I can never learn enough by reading a tax form or a rap sheet.”

  “No wonder we get along so well,” she said. “I love the puzzles. The Internet is my favorite toy. I can find practically anything on there. But I’ve learned that a single source is never enough. It’s the combination of facts, the melding of information. That’s what gets the job done.”

  “It’s good that you love what you do. That’s a gift.”

  Her eyes drifted closed as she thought about that.

  Bax turned off the TV and she heard the remote meet the night table.

  “Do you think you’ll find that in Boulder?” she asked.


  He didn’t answer her, and she let it go, drifting as she was into sleep.

  “I used to think so,” he said softly after a long while. “But I might have gotten things all wrong.”

  She told him not to worry. Or maybe she dreamed that part.

  11

  BAX WOKE UP TO THE FEEL of Mia against his body. The shaky truth of it kept his eyes closed for a long moment as he traced the sensation from his chest to his thigh. How warm she was and how that warmth seeped into him the way syrup sweetens a pancake. He smelled her, too, as if flowers had been sewn in the mattress.

  All they’d done was sleep in the same bed. He’d barely touched her lips with his own, tasted only a hint of her, but she’d rested her head on his shoulder. Her bare foot, cool and remarkably smooth, had run over his shin. She’d snuffled a few times, and even snored a bit, but it wasn’t a bad sound at all.

  Two days ago it had really bothered him that he couldn’t ask her out. That there wouldn’t be time enough to get to know her before he left for Boulder and his new life.

  Waking up to her heat and her scent and the memory of her sleepy whisper in his ear, it felt as if he’d never had a more intimate experience with another person in his life.

  He thought, oddly, of Mia’s favorite book. How Lizzy Bennet and Mr. Darcy fell so deeply in love with their arguments and wrong turns and their fussy dances. They’d become lovers in the most old-fashioned way. Quaintly. Sweetly. With a kiss, with a confession, against all reason.

  He opened his eyes to find Mia scrunched next to him, her short hair spiked, her sleep T bunched up around her waist baring a strip of her pale tummy, and just the sight of that pink flesh made him harder than he’d been in a long, long time.

  He wasn’t going to do anything about it. Feel the ache, yes. Marvel at how heavy his balls could get when they wanted attention. But she was healing still and the way he felt about her was all out of proportion and just plain nuts.

  It was better to close his eyes again. He had no idea what time it was, just that it was early and soon he would have to face the liars and the thieves and the killers when all he wanted was to stay in this bed with Mia for the rest of his life. Room service would deliver, and he’d never turn on the news, not even once.

  His thoughts drifted, the ache from his cock his anchor.

  The next time his eyes opened, Mia was sitting up, propped by pillows, her hair still spiked, her skin still pale, except for the bruise on her temple. It was purple and looked like it would hurt a lot if touched.

  “I wasn’t sure if I should wake you,” she said.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost eight.”

  “How long have you been sitting there?”

  “Since almost seven.”

  He stretched beneath the blanket, then smiled at her. “I don’t suppose you snuck away and ordered coffee.”

  She started to shake her head, then stopped with a wince. A few seconds went by and she continued to shake her head only much more slowly. “I was too busy watching you sleep.”

  “Busy? Did I say anything?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No. You didn’t even snore.”

  “And yet—”

  “And yet I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  He took a deep breath and turned over, not wanting her to see how the words had affected him. “I have to get up,” he said, half into the pillow. “How do you feel? You need your antibiotic.”

  “Better than I expected,” she said. “Good enough to call for coffee. What else? Juice? Bagels? Eggs?”

  “Onion bagel,” he said. “Cream cheese. Coffee. Cream.”

  “Got it.”

  They climbed out of the bed at the same time, her to the phone, him to the bathroom. He wasn’t sure if he was still hard from before or if this was new. It didn’t matter in the end. He’d shower, take care of things, get on with the business of detecting. Make sure whoever had hurt Mia would never hurt anyone again.

  He brushed his teeth, shaved, did all the typical morning stuff, but the shower waited until he went back and checked on Mia. “You need to use the john?”

  She scurried past him. “Oh, yeah.”

  While she was occupied, he got his clothes together and he didn’t think about her in her sleep shirt, or about that little flash of belly. He thought instead about Nan Collins and Oscar Weinberg and how he was going to proceed. First, he would talk to Oscar, work on his enormous ego. The man thought he was light-years smarter than anyone else, and that was a mistake Bax could use to his advantage.

  Nan would be next, and her fear would be her undoing.

  But he couldn’t eliminate Danny completely, not yet. There was still the business of his secret and how far he would go to keep it.

  Then it was his turn to shower and no matter how he struggled to keep his mind on business, he always came back to Mia. First, that when she was better, he wanted to get in here with her, because this was one wild shower. It had a bunch of different showerheads, one he didn’t understand at all. In the end, it didn’t matter. He was wet, and slick and there was nothing noble about his thoughts. As he stroked himself it wasn’t just a flash of her stomach, it was all of her naked and writhing on the pure white sheets. She was perfect and he explored every inch of her body with his hands, his tongue. He came to the thought of making her come, of making her cry out his name. God, it had been forever since he’d wanted like this. No, he never had wanted like this. Since college he’d never had to wait and he wondered if in all the sexual freedom something good had been lost. Anticipation was highly seductive, especially when each encounter with Mia had given him more fuel for his internal fire.

  The rest of his shower went quickly, dressing, too. By the time he went back to the bedroom, the coffee had arrived.

  She’d ordered herself some scrambled eggs and toast, and they went to the living room to eat.

  Mia hadn’t changed from her sleep shirt, which made him crazily happy. It was the mixture, he thought, of intimacy and restraint. The surroundings helped, too, as if they were playing very upscale house.

  “Did you take your pill?” he asked.

  She nodded. Carefully. “Just the antibiotic. I’m feeling pretty darn good, considering.”

  “Your shoulder?”

  “Not bad at all. Whoever shot me wasn’t very good at it.”

  “Small favors.”

  “Yeah, but it says something, doesn’t it? I was pretty much a static target. Someone who knew about guns wouldn’t have grazed my shoulder like that.”

  “You have a point. Although the shot may have been a warning.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it. I think whoever did it was trying to get me to stop asking questions, sure, but they were scared. And if I had to guess, I’d say Oscar was behind it all. He would never do something as a gauche as pulling the trigger, but he would certainly have one of his minions do it.”

  “Which brings us back to Nan.”

  “Oh?”

  “According to several sources, she’s pretty much been Weinberg’s lapdog since Mexico.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m guessing it’s all connected to that girl’s death. Combine that with Oscar’s penchant for recording everything, along with Gerry Geiger’s photography skills, and you’ve got a pretty convincing case for blackmail.”

  “But who’s blackmailing whom?”

  Bax shook his head. “Since Nan is the only one who didn’t benefit, it stands to reason she’s being blackmailed.”

  “And Gerry Geiger was the one who got all the tips. So maybe Oscar and Gerry were in cahoots.” Mia sipped some coffee, then laughed.

  “What?”

  “Cahoots.”

  “Ah.”

  “But seriously, this is all making a lot of sense.”

  “Now if only there was a way to prove any of it.”

  “Oh, that.”

  He went to work on his bagel and she did the same with her eggs. The view
out the window made him like New York all over again, but the view inside kicked Manhattan’s ass.

  “Why are you grinning like a loon?” she asked. “Not that you’re not adorable, but…”

  “A loon, huh?”

  “Not the bird, you understand.”

  “Yeah, I figured.”

  “Well?”

  “Just extremely glad you weren’t—”

  “Killed?”

  He nodded.

  “Me, too.” She was sitting on one of the green chairs while he had landed on the couch, the breakfast setup between them on the coffee table.

  He moved the big tray, filled with the paltry remains of their breakfast, and he didn’t try to hide a thing as he sat down where the tray had been.

  “Oh,” she said again, only breathlessly.

  Carefully, he leaned forward and kissed her. She didn’t taste like mint this time, but of coffee and jam. He knew she was still tender so he had to be cautious when caution was the last thing he wanted.

  Her hand came up to his neck and she held him steady as she took the lead. It was a perfect solution.

  She was the one to turn her head, to thrust her tongue into his mouth. She pressed him harder and he didn’t hesitate to respond in kind.

  Her soft moan made him hard all over again and so soon after his shower it made him grunt in surprise.

  He had no idea what she made of the sound except that it brought her closer. So close, in fact, that without relinquishing the kiss, she somehow climbed right into his lap, her legs circling his waist.

  It was no use trying not to touch her. His hand went to her back, only he didn’t want to feel her T. He found the hem and snuck underneath and he was immediately rewarded with the softest thing he’d ever felt.

  Mia moaned again as she ran her fingers through his hair, as she toyed with his tongue, as she wriggled on his lap.

  He should stop this. Walk away while he still could. In a moment he was going to have no choice but to take her to that big white bed.

  MIA COULDN’T GET close enough to him. Her hands were on his face, cupping the sides to hold him where she wanted him, and she kissed him deeply, holding back nothing. He cradled her perfectly on his lap with those big hands roaming across her back, and it felt so good, so right. She didn’t even care about the twinges from her shoulder. They were nothing compared to finally, finally kissing him, feeling how much he wanted her.