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Sex, Lies and Surveillance

Page 22

by Stephanie Julian


  He soaped her full breasts, playing with the nipples until they became hard pebbles. When he slipped his fingers between her legs and parted the soft dark curls there, she let her legs fall apart to accommodate him. His other hand cupped one slick breast.

  She gave herself completely into his care, and he wanted to be worthy of her trust, wanted to turn her around and sink into her, to console himself in her body.

  Instead, he slipped one finger into her warm channel and pressed his thumb against her clit.

  Janey arched into his touch, a low moan rumbling in her chest. He flicked that tiny bundle of nerves, circled it with ever-increasing pressure as she began to tremble. Her hands clenched on the sides of the tub, her head kicking back into his shoulder. His own muscles tightened as he felt her sex tighten around his finger.

  When she came, he groaned as she cried out and arched against his hand. He wrung out her orgasm, denying himself, as if that could make up for all of his lies.

  She tried to move, to turn in his arms, but he held her fast.

  “Just stay. Let me hold you.”

  And she did.

  ***

  When Janey exited the bathroom, Mal could have swallowed his tongue and he might not have noticed.

  He’d known she was gorgeous. But she’d always been gorgeous in his eyes, even in plain business skirts and tailored shirts.

  Tonight, she wore her mother’s confidence, her father’s cool intensity and her own unique appeal.

  Still, her tone was hesitant. “So, what do you think?”

  He wasn’t sure he could think right now. He’d yet to decide where to look first. Her shiny blue dress with its wide shoulder straps and plunging neckline drew the eye to any number of spots—from her curved hips, to her luscious breasts, to just below her knees, covering the bruises he knew were still there from the other night.

  The neckline left the slim column of her throat exposed, leading the eye to the dusky hollow between her breasts. He didn’t see how she could wear a bra with that dress, so he would just assume she wasn’t wearing one.

  Damn. Not a good thing to think about now.

  With her unbound hair flowing like silk over her shoulders, siren-red lipstick on her mouth and mascara that made her eyes look huge, she was going to attract the attention of every red-blooded male in the tri-state area.

  “I don’t think I can let you leave the room.”

  Her heated expression made his heart shift into overdrive even more than her unaccustomed finery. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “It was meant as one.”

  She walked to the couch where he sat and picked up her purse.

  “You’ve got the stun gun?” he asked.

  She drew it out and held it up. “Yes.”

  “The Mace?”

  She dug in again, extracted the small cylinder, shook it at him.

  “Cell phone?”

  She put the Mace away and showed him the phone. “Mal, we’re going to be in a crowded restaurant. I’m sure I’ll be fine. And you’ll be only seconds away.”

  He knew that. Rationally. He also knew the last person he’d worked with was dead.

  “I want to check the earring transmitters once more—”

  “Mal.” She stared straight into his eyes. “I have enough brothers.”

  “I’m not your brother.”

  “Then stop acting like one.”

  “Janey, I—” He nearly reached for her, but if he did, he might not let her go. Or he might spill his guts and they couldn’t have that conversation now. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  His world jolted on its axis for one brief second at that one word—trust. “Yes.”

  “Then what are you afraid of?”

  The truth slipped out before he could catch it. “Circumstances beyond my control.”

  Janey picked up her purse, looked at her watch. “You can’t control everything. Some things have to be left to chance. And I’m just starting to realize that that’s where the fun is.” She paused, as if considering something. “You know, my parents are legends in the intelligence community. Nic spent several years in Special Forces. Jimmy is one of the youngest PhD’s in MIT’s history. I have a bachelor’s degree in computer science with a minor in languages.”

  “Jane—”

  She cut him off with a raised hand. “Hear me out. I came to work for my parents right out of college. Mom and Dad hate paperwork. Nic was always off somewhere, so he couldn’t be bothered with it, and Jimmy can barely remember to eat, much less fill out forms when he’s working on a new project. Secretaries can’t be trusted. One actually wrote a book about us, though it never got published.” She turned a curious gaze on him. “They trust me. And I love them dearly. But they want to keep me in this little cocoon. And I’m tired of being there.”

  She moved until she stood directly in front of him, staring down into his eyes. “I like where I am now. Who I’m with. What I’m doing.” She bent over and laid a soft kiss on his lips at the exact moment the doorbell rang. “I’ll see you later.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Janey laid down the law the second she got into Bennett’s limousine.

  “There will be no touching. You will keep your hands to yourself. You will do exactly as I tell you and we will get along just fine tonight. Do you understand?”

  “I see you’re just as feisty as ever, Janey.” Bennett leaned back into plush upholstery, looking like a lazy tomcat stalking his prey. “I like that in a woman.”

  She refused to be intimidated. “Well, you’re going to have to like it in someone else.”

  “You tell him, Janey.” Mal’s voice rasped in her ear, courtesy of Jimmy’s miniature receiver.

  Her senses went on full alert at the sound of his voice. She wouldn’t need to pretend to be interested in Bennett. All Mal had to do was whisper in her ear all night and she’d be hot.

  Mal asked, “You’re sure his parents relayed the information about tonight to Wilson’s mother?”

  A shiver ran up spine, but a quick look at Bennett checking himself out in the darkened window took care of that. “Mal wants to know if your parents told Mrs. Wilson where we’d be tonight.”

  “I was right there while they did.”

  “Okay.” Mal sighed, inducing a tingle in her tummy. “I’ll be close all night, Janey. You tell that sleaze if he touches you, I’m gonna hurt him.”

  Janey smiled at Bennett, who was so shocked, he didn’t return it. “We’re ready to go.”

  Janey never caught a glimpse of Mal all through dinner at the trendy little Italian place they’d settled on. Its coziness and limited seating made it easier for Mal to watch and cut down on the number of access points.

  He was somewhere on the street right now. He hadn’t said much since they’d sat down and Bennett had behaved himself so far. They’d actually had a conversation.

  The man was amusing, in his own self-serving way. He had a sarcastic wit and a wealth of Hollywood insider stories that would have made the filthiest tabloids cry uncle.

  But by dessert, when nothing had happened, she was beginning to wonder if she’d made a mistake. Perhaps Carla Wilson wasn’t the stalker after all.

  “So.” Bennett leaned back in his chair, predatory stare returning. “Do we return to my hotel to see if she shows up?”

  “No way in hell,” was Mal’s reply.

  “I think Mal’s opposed to that. Why don’t you take me home and we’ll go from there.”

  “Why, I’d love to go back to your place.” Bennett’s voice oozed sexual innuendo and Janey considered popping him in the nose. Just a tap. Just to wipe that look off his face.

  “You’re never going to see the inside of my home, Bennett.”

  “Never say never.”

  She was sure this was one of those times when never definitely meant never but she guessed he’d have to discover that for himself. “Are there any skeleto
ns in your closet you haven’t told us about?” Janey watched Bennett carefully but the man never flinched.

  “No, my dear. Believe me, if I had skeletons, the world would know. But you’re welcome to examine my closets, if that will help.”

  Mal snorted. “I guess dating blondes young enough to be his daughter isn’t enough of a skeleton in Hollywood.”

  “Mal would like to know if any of your young, blonde female friends may have it in for you.”

  Bennett didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m always looking for new talent. Here you go, Janey. Safe and sound at your door.”

  She looked out the window at her building. Damn it. She hated to be wrong and she’d been so sure about Carla Wilson.

  Bennett’s bodyguard opened the door for Bennett to get out and walk her to the door.

  Janey wasn’t sure what happened next—if she first heard Mal yelling in her ear to get down or whether she realized Chris had fallen to the ground, clutching his leg. She knelt beside him instinctively, smelling gunpowder in the air and realizing that someone had shot at them from the alley just down the street.

  ***

  Mal had parked his car around the corner and was just walking up the street when he heard the gunshot.

  “Janey, get down, get down!”

  He started to run, trying to stick to the shadows, and saw the bodyguard fall. Saw Bennett cower behind the car and then watched Janey go down next to the bodyguard. Now he didn’t care if the shooter saw him or not.

  “Janey, oh Jesus, Janey. Are you hurt?”

  Someone was shouting from the alley next to Janey’s building.

  “Randy, you bastard.” A woman’s voice screamed. “How could you? You told me you loved me. You promised we’d be together.”

  Another shot rang out, hitting a garbage can on the other side of the street. She seemed to be aiming at Bennett as he slinked along the side of the limo, trying to put the car between him and the gun.

  “Carla, why don’t you put the gun down so we can talk?” Bennett yelled, his voice shaking. “I’m listening.”

  Finally, Mal reached Janey. “Are you okay?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide, hands covered in blood. “Chris is bleeding really badly.”

  Vertigo assailed Mal at the sight of all the blood.

  In his mind’s eye, he saw Dev.

  His twenty-five-year-old partner with a bullet hole in his chest and a god-awful exit wound on his back. Begging Mal to tell his family he loved them. To make sure they understood.

  Son, suck it up. This isn’t Dev.

  “Mal, we need an ambulance.”

  He snapped back into the present and there was Janey again, covered in blood.

  He grabbed her by the arms, unable to stop himself. “Are you okay?”

  “Mal.” She stared right into his eyes. “I’m fine. Really. But Chris needs a doctor.”

  “Carla, I don’t understand.” Bennett hid behind the limo, still talking. “Why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about this?”

  “You don’t want to talk. All those letters. You never responded. You ignored me like I was some stupid fan. I’m not a fan, Randy. I loved you.”

  “I didn’t know who the letters were from.” Bennett’s voice started to show signs of stress—shaky and weak. “You never signed them. You never told me.”

  “You should have known, you bastard. You’re just another scum like all the rest.” The woman sobbed. “I was so stupid. I thought you were different. But you only ever wanted those young girls. All those blondes you took out for drinks and took back to your hotel room. You never wanted me.”

  Mal cringed at the despair in the woman’s voice. “While she’s busy with Bennett, let’s get Chris out of the line of fire.”

  Janey nodded and together they dragged the bodyguard to the other side of the car.

  “I’m going to make sure you never get the chance to hurt me again, Randy. But first I’ll make you watch this bitch die. Then she’ll never be able to get between us again.”

  Mal’s blood went cold. Carla Wilson was talking about killing Janey.

  “Stay down.” He had to force the words past his locked jaw. “I’m gonna go through your place and take her out from behind.” Then he planted a quick kiss on her lips and looked her straight in the eyes. “I love you. Call 9-1-1.”

  Turning and leaving her there in that alley was the hardest thing Mal had ever done. He wanted to hurry but he knew one mistake and he’d lose the element of surprise. Easing through the shadows, he made it to Janey’s door without attracting the woman’s attention and slipped into the building. Then he ran through her home like the hounds of hell were on his heels. When he finally reached the door leading into the alley, he cracked it open silently, hearing sirens getting closer.

  “You lied to me, you bastard.” Carla sounded pissed again. No longer weepy. Pissed was definitely more dangerous. “I don’t care if I go to jail. It’ll be worth it if you’re dead.”

  “Carla, come on. Let’s talk about this rationally.” Bennett pitched his voice with just enough sincerity that Mal could almost believe him. “You can’t mean that.”

  Unfortunately, Carla didn’t.

  “I mean every damn word of it.” Her voice had turned hard, ugly. “You better make your peace, Randy, because I’m going to send you to hell.”

  The woman never saw Mal coming. She was so focused on Bennett, she noticed too late that Mal had sneaked up behind her.

  With a gasp, she turned to confront him, swinging the gun to aim at him. A shot went wild as Mal grabbed her arm with one hand and the gun with the other.

  It didn’t take much to overpower her and by the time the police cars parked, he had Carla Wilson on the ground and the situation under control.

  At least he had Bennett’s situation under control. His life was still completely fucked up.

  He needed to tell Janey everything. And hoped like hell she still wanted to speak to him afterward.

  ***

  “You’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”

  Sitting on the top step leading to her door giving a patrolman her statement, Janey saw Luke walking down the street, looking street-tough and dangerous in black boots, ripped jeans and a black leather jacket.

  Shit. She didn’t want to do this tonight. All she wanted was to go inside and have a glass of wine, then crawl in bed with Mal.

  Standing, she got ready to cut Luke down to size, but he never acknowledged her. He headed straight for Mal, who was sitting on the curb by the street.

  Mal rose but didn’t say anything, looking the other man straight in the eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” She nodded to the patrolman. “Could you excuse me for just a minute?”

  “You son of a bitch.” Luke was on top of Mal before Janey could get there.

  By the time she had, Luke had decked Mal with a right hook. Mal didn’t flinch or make a move to protect himself, just took the hit on his chin.

  “Hey!” Janey’s outraged yell attracted the attention of the patrolman who was standing closest. The patrolman looked ready to intervene but Mal held up one hand.

  “Did you think no one would find out?” Luke pitched his voice low, his handsome face distorted in rage. “You son of a bitch, you’re gonna wish you’d never been born.”

  Janey stepped between them, but Mal moved her gently out of the way.

  When Luke raised his arm again, she grabbed for him. “What the hell are you doing? Luke, calm down or I’m going to have you taken away.”

  “You haven’t told her yet, have you?”

  That got her attention. She looked at Mal, found him staring at her, his expression blank.

  “Told me what?”

  “Go on, do it.” Luke’s voice was unyielding. “If you don’t, I will. Tell her about the call you made to my chief this afternoon.”

  Her pulse thundered until she could hear it throbbing in her ears. “Tell me what? Mal
?”

  Maybe she didn’t want to know, if the look on Mal’s face was anything to go by.

  “Janey, why don’t you come with me?” Luke tried to pull her away. “We can—”

  She dug in her heels. “Luke, I think you should leave.”

  He shook his head. “No way. Janey, you don’t know—”

  “You’re right. I don’t. But I’m going to. You’d better go.”

  She deliberately turned away. “Mal, let’s go in.”

  He nodded and sent Luke an inscrutable look before meeting her gaze again. “Yeah. We need to talk.”

  Okay, now she really didn’t want to know.

  She felt sick as she told the patrolman she would come down to the station tomorrow to make a formal statement. When she’d finished, she saw Mal leaning against her front door, head down. He looked…forlorn.

  It had been only minutes ago that he’d told her he loved her.

  He raised his head slowly as she approached. His hair was mussed, and she reached out to push it behind his ears. She stopped when she realized she had blood all over her hands.

  The look on his face when she pulled away might have broken her heart if she wasn’t so damn scared about what he had to say. What Luke had been so angry about.

  With shaking hands, she opened the door and waved him through.

  “Do you want something to drink?” She moved to the sink and began to scrub at her hands with dish detergent. She knew from experience that regular hand soap wouldn’t get the blood off. Her dress was a complete ruin. The blood would never come out of the silk.

  “No.”

  “Okay.” She dried her hands on the dishtowel far too long before turning. “Tell me how bad it is.”

  He’d sat at the table, rigid in the hard wooden chair. He met her gaze. “Bad.”

  She dropped her gaze and felt her way into the chair across the table. Her chest felt like she’d taken the brunt of a full roundhouse.

  “You know my partner Dev was killed, but what you don’t know is how. He was killed with a gun he bought from Carabini.”

  She started to hyperventilate.

 

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