by Dianna Love
He scrubbed a hand over his face, mumbling, “What the hell?” Crossing his arms, he stabbed a dark look at her. “Are you going to tell me you weren’t enjoying that kiss?”
“No, I can’t say that.”
“Or that you’re not attracted to me?” he continued.
“Nope. Can’t make that claim either, even if it does make me sound like an idiot.”
“Why would that make you an idiot? What is the problem?”
She couldn’t help it. Her mind had hit overload. She grabbed her head and started laughing. “What’s wrong with this?” She spread her arms wide to indicate the two of them. “Nothing other than you being...gay.”
“What the fu...are you serious?”
Pissed off Josh was a scary version of hot Josh. She hesitated then gave up. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Yes, I’m dead serious so I don’t understand why you kissed me.”
When he could finally speak, his words came out chillingly soft. “I’m. Not. Gay!”
“Really?” She struggled to come up with something to say, but all that came out was, “Are you sure?”
He took two steps and pulled her into his arms, cupped her bottom and snugged her up against him. Close. Stomach to hip close. He said in a deep voice, rough with arousal. “Would I be this turned on if you weren’t my type?”
Holy crap that was some erection. She didn’t think he could fake that and the next question was–why would he?
Heat coiled and started a slow burn in her womb. She stared into a fiery blue gaze that refused to let her go. “Guess not,” whispered from her lips.
She ran her tongue over her lips.
The moment stretched tight as a piano wire then snapped when he lowered his head. He kissed her again, but not so softly this time.
This kiss packed a punch. Loaded with pure seduction.
His mouth took possession of hers, leaving no question that she was being kissed by a man who enjoyed women.
A man flush with passion and bent on creating a masterpiece.
She gave in to the longing that she’d fought against all day and pushed her hands up his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle. His tongue swept inside her mouth, brushing hers in a tangled dance.
Her breasts ached to be touched.
Her body had struck up a dialogue with his, and her body was liking this part of the conversation.
Kissing her deeper, his hand slipped between them to cup her breast. His thumb raked across the hard tip, dragging a desperate sound from her. No question he was aroused and the impressive thickness pressed against her.
She shivered, wanting that. Wanting him.
His mouth teased the skin along her neck and shoulders, “You are so damned beautiful.”
Trish smiled, lost in a sensual haze.
A car door slammed outside. Who...?
Crap. Heidi. “Josh...uhm...we have to stop, Sugar.”
He lifted his head, eyes sharp with hunger. “Why?”
“Heidi’s home, and she’s going to want answers.”
The sigh that escaped him came from down deep. He released her and stepped back, breathing just as hard as she was.
She started straightening her dress.
Her mind took the conversation back from her body, and with that, sanity returned. She’d been kissing Josh as if naked would be next in her vocabulary. He had to get out of here. She couldn’t be getting naked with anyone.
Heidi didn’t bother to knock. She bounded in the front door, stopped and crossed her arms. That pose warned no one was going to bed until she got answers. “What happened? I got your text.”
Trish jumped on that opening to explain her hasty exit. “The police had a call about suspicious activity at ReSolution. They met us there.”
The hard lines smoothed out on Heidi’s forehead. She dropped her arms and came over to Trish. “Oh. Everything okay?”
“Yes. False alarm.” Trish hated lying to Heidi by omission, but she still didn’t know why the stalker had sent the police or left that black rook. The stalker’s notes had mentioned Zane and Angel, but made it very clear that anyone Trish told about their little game would be at risk. For that reason, Trish could not share any of this with Heidi. “I’ll walk Josh out and be right back.”
Heidi gave Josh a once over, as if questioning his presence then nodded. “I’m grabbing a shower and changing, but don’t go to bed until we talk,” she said, making sure Trish knew she wanted more than a quick explanation. “I told everyone at the banquet you had an emergency. They made appropriate noises of concern and gave me your sealed packet of information.”
Trish could tell Heidi hadn’t been happy about using the “emergency” excuse, but had given Trish the benefit of the doubt that she did have one of some sort.
“I’m not going to bed any time soon. Thanks for standing in for me.” Trish had until Heidi finished her shower to come up with a story that sounded believable.
Heidi said goodnight to Josh and disappeared back out the front door. Trish heard her double-timing up the steps to her apartment.
What had been one sizzling moment was now awkward as Trish herded Josh toward the door. Once they were both outside, she pulled the door almost closed. What did she say to him now? “Look about what I said–”
“Did you really think I was gay?”
“It didn’t make sense. But Zane said–”
Josh covered his eyes with a hand then dropped it. “I’ve heard how overprotective he is, but telling you that just so you’d keep your distance was one ballsy move.”
Trish hesitated to tell Josh that Leanne was the one who’d said he was gay. That might cause bad feelings at the task force. She’d ask Leanne about it next time she saw her, but first she had to smooth this over for Zane.
Since Josh assumed Zane had made that up, Trish said, “My brother means well.”
“I still don’t understand how you could think–”
She held up her hand. “In my defense, I might not have been sold on it if I hadn’t met Ryder.”
“What did he say?” Josh tensed just as he had when Ryder had stood next to him.
“He didn’t say anything,” she rushed to explain before this caused even more problems within the task force. “I thought he was your partner. You know...life partner.”
Josh’s lips parted with confusion then he threw his head back and laughed, a real, heart-felt sound. She had the strange feeling that he didn’t laugh often or hadn’t in a while because of how it came out almost like relief. He was a physically beautiful male, but seeing his eyes light up that way exposed a relaxed side she found far more attractive.
His laughing slowed to a chuckle. “Glad we cleared that up.”
“Shouldn’t have happened to begin with. I feel like a fool.”
Josh angled his head, a quirk at his lips. “You have that look that says, little sister paybacks are hell.”
“You have no idea.”
“I sort of do. Let’s not tell Zane,” Josh suggested. “That way he won’t be a nuisance.”
“A nuisance for what?”
“For us seeing each other.”
Hold everything. “No. I’m sold on you being a super stud, okay? But I’m not dating right now.”
“Why?”
Did he have to question everything she said? “I’m not ready to date again.”
“Because of your rehab program?”
After so many hours spent in AA meetings and rehab, her chest shouldn’t get tight when somebody said it out loud. It wasn’t a secret, but she still struggled with the stigma. “Not sure how you know that, but yes, that’s the reason. I’m not ready to get involved with anyone.”
“That’s perfect. I don’t want to get involved either. But I’m going to be here for another two weeks and I’d like to see you again.”
“Josh, I’ll be blunt. I’m not sleeping with you.”
He was just as blunt. “I didn’t ask you to.”
Well, damn. What was she supposed to think
after that kiss went atomic?
Cupping her chin with his fingers, he leaned down. “What do you say we just get to know each other? No pressure for you, and I won’t have to spend my entire time here alone. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He kissed her lightly on the lips and walked to his car.
He proposed a relationship that sounded like hers and Brendan’s, except Brendan’s quick goodbye kisses were more like Zane’s, a brotherly touch on the cheek that she didn’t feel all the way to her toes.
Josh sure as hell didn’t kiss like a brother.
There had to be a catch to his offer. Nothing could be that easy.
Not when it came to men like Josh Robertson.
She watched the taillights of his Porsche fade as he drove away, thankful he’d been with her tonight when she had to face the police. Trish slapped a palm against her forehead.
When did you get the crazy idea you were out of danger?
There was no way she could see Josh again. Not with a crazy stalker watching everything she did. She couldn’t be responsible for the safety of one more person.
Her body disagreed with the decision, but her body only cared about getting up close to all that hot male again. In spite of how hard she’d tried to push Josh away, Trish liked him.
And that was the biggest problem of all.
It bugged her to think about him with another woman, but she couldn’t face herself if anything happened to someone that sweet and considerate.
He’d have to find someone else to keep him company.
Chapter 14
Sabrina waited for the hostess to mark her dinner reservation off the list. The trendy restaurant fit the upscale Alpharetta area north of Atlanta, but the drive for those who worked downtown had to be a bugger every morning.
“Your other party has not arrived yet,” the young lady said. “Would you prefer inside or the veranda?”
“Veranda.”
The hostess cringed slightly but started gathering up what she needed.
Sabrina had dressed in black jeans, a turtleneck sweater and leather jacket for sitting outside in chilly evening weather. And to conceal her weapon in an easily accessible place.
Temperatures hovering just below sixty would make sitting outside unpleasant for most people, and so, prevent civilian casualties if the meeting went bad.
Lifting menus, the hostess led Sabrina past tables covered in white linen and surrounded by people enjoying an early lunch.
With no other patrons on the veranda, Sabrina had her choice of tables, just as she’d planned. And just as she’d known, the outside tables offered an optimum location for a sniper shot. Before the shivering hostess left, Sabrina told her, “Please let the server know that once my guest arrives, we need some time to chat, and to give me at least fifteen minutes before coming to the table.”
“Absolutely.”
No point in ordering food that would very likely not be eaten.
Where was this snitch?
The only reason Sabrina had even considered this meeting was because Burton claimed the snitch had significant intel on her operation in Miami and he would only share it with her in person.
Burton, a DEA contact she’d known for close to ten years, had vouched for the snitch. But Burton would not give her a name. He said he’d given his word and she’d understand the reason he was being so cryptic once she’d met the man.
So, as far as she was concerned, Burton should understand the reason she had a sniper in position to take out any threat the instant she gave the signal.
She’d chosen this location because it was the only place that provided a clear shot without threat to civilians. She sat in the corner with her back to the brick wall, trying to figure out who might be her guest for lunch.
Then he appeared.
Her heart thumped loud in her ears.
She might kill Burton. If she survived.
Her guest came forward slowly. No sudden moves. She’d never considered him attractive so much as a forceful personality that had its own brand of magnetism. Nose too wide, square jaw, rugged mouth of a man who loved as hard as he lived. Coarse brown hair that barely touched his collar and the length changed often, just as his now clean-shaven face was sometimes covered with a beard. Not quite six feet, he carried his weight in attitude as much as the lean muscle she knew lurked beneath that camelhair sport coat.
The bronze-colored shirt had been an intentional choice.
She’d once told him that she liked him in autumn colors, liked how it brought out the gold in his hazel eyes. Silly words said late at night.
Stupid, stupid mistakes committed time and again over five years.
She’d spent the last two of those years planning ways to kill him.
So why was she allowing him to breathe her air for one more second?
The answer to that lay buried so deep in her chest she didn’t want to dig it up and crack open a door to emotions she could never trust again.
Gage Laughton stopped at the edge of her table. “Sabrina.”
She said nothing, staring up at him with hatred burning through her. All she had to do was touch her right earring, right now, and his head would explode in the next second.
That would ruin a few appetites for those sitting too close to the windows.
Gage pulled out a chair carefully, his eyes on her, clearly aware of his precarious position as he sat. Every movement was deliberate, and should be. “I wanted a chance to talk to you.”
She was glad for the turtleneck sweater that hid her involuntary swallow. Hurt and anger crashed around in her heart. When she knew she could speak without any hitch in her voice, she said very softly, “I warn you to take care with your words. The only reason you are still alive right now is because neither Dingo nor Josh has his finger on the trigger covering me. They wouldn’t wait for my signal to fire. Keep your hands where I can see them.”
“I understand, but this is important to both of us.”
Pissing her off always helped bring the situation into focus. “You flatter yourself to include me in anything significant to you.”
Her strike hit true. Pain grazed his eyes, but she refused to be touched by it. He’d played her once, sacrificed her and her team. To be honest, she didn’t want him dead. Yet. Not until she found out why he’d betrayed her trust in the most brutal way possible.
“I didn’t betray you,” he said as if he could hear her thoughts screaming at him. “We’ve been investigating–”
“For two years?”
“Yes.”
“Who picked up Len Rikker that night from Mendelson?”
“We don’t know. We’re still digging for answers and looking for Rikker. I want to know who burned you as much as you do.”
She scoffed. “No, you don’t, because if you did you would send every assassin in your arsenal after him. You’re two steps from the top of the CIA and you want me to believe that you don’t know who was dealing with Mendelson and where Rikker went? Has it not occurred to you that I might be less gullible than I was before?”
He leaned back, chagrined. “I never thought of you as gullible and I did not screw you over, Sabrina.”
She remembered that voice, the one so coated heavily in honesty that it had finally broken through her barriers once. Not again. “I have no intention of eating with someone I find disgusting. So if you have no intel, I will permit you to walk away alive this one time as long as you never try to speak to me again.”
Misery lined his eyes and the grim tilt of his mouth, but to his benefit he recognized a lost cause even if he didn’t accept it. “I do have intel. And don’t blame Burton for this.”
“I don’t, but if you gave a rat’s ass about US teenagers, or the shipment of Spa Zing Burton’s people are trying to stop, you would have handed over what intel you have to him.”
“I wouldn’t have kept it from him if you’d refused the meeting,” he admitted. “That’s why I asked him, as a favor, to not tell you it was me. I knew you wo
uldn’t meet with me otherwise.”
“That’s easy to claim now that you’re here.”
“I know. I’m hoping what I have to tell you will show that I’m trying to help you.”
She didn’t respond. Wouldn’t give him an ounce of understanding.
Taking a deep breath, he started explaining. “I know you have a team in the Miami task force, but you may need to send more agents.”
She snorted at that. “You think I’m stupid enough to give you a second shot at my people?”
A muscle pulsed in his neck, the only sign his patience had a limit. Too bad. She had less.
“Hear me out, Sabrina. Then do as you will. Burton’s people are focused on High Vision’s designer drug shipments, not the real danger coming to south Florida.”
“And that would be?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Then what makes you think there’s more going on than drug running?”
“Because Len Rikker is down there.”
She’d been toying with her keys and only years of control kept her from clenching the key ring. “We know.”
That surprised him. No physical twitch gave him away. It was the way he looked up calmly at her. This was a man whose control could not be broken easily.
She knew. She’d enjoyed wrecking it at one time.
Nodding slightly, he continued, but did not ask how she knew about Rikker. “We just found out that he’s stateside and I believe the mole Burton is after is in contact with Rikker.”
Lifting an indifferent shoulder, she said, “Still nothing new.”
“But the code name for Rikker’s contact might be.”
Ask him or not? She wanted to throw his words back in his face, but the mission had always come first. Josh and Ryder needed any intel she could find no matter the means. “Yes, I’d like to know that.”
“The contact is called Chessmaster.”
Gage hadn’t tried to negotiate. Just gave up the name. She’d think on that later. “Male or female?”
“Don’t know. We cooperate with other agencies, but we all horde information.”
“Especially spooks.” She should have kept that in mind two years ago.
“Guilty as charged...but I did not hold back on the UK,” he argued.
