Danger and Desire: Ten Full-Length Steamy Romantic Suspense Novels

by Pamela Clare

  “Bullshit,” Victor said. “You’re just too fucking stubborn to open your eyes and see the truth.”

  Jess made herself as still and small as possible while she listened to the hushed conversation between Tanner and the medic. Though she didn’t pride herself on eavesdropping, it seemed to be the only time she got any useful information about the man who’d suddenly fallen into her life.

  The conversation came to a halt when Victor started stitching the wound. At least she thought that’s what he was doing. Thankfully, his body blocked her view. One certificate on the wall verified that Victor Gonzalez was for real, a medic in the United States Army. Or maybe a former medic. The certificate was dated eight years ago. But this setup looked well used. Whether he still worked for Uncle Sam or a local hospital, he clearly helped people here in Inglewood who wouldn’t normally get help. Like gangbangers. Or Tanner.

  Tanner wasn’t what he wanted her to believe. He intimidated through his bulk, his attitude, but underneath lurked someone very different. One sign of his vulnerability came when he’d seen the blood on his side. The surprise in his eyes showed a picture of a man not so full of confidence. He may have thought himself invincible, but obviously he’d learned how wrong he’d been. The more she replayed the night’s events the more convinced she became. His expression when she’d opened her eyes in his room. His consideration of her injury…and the guilt she’d seen in his eyes, when she mentioned it. He’d taken her not because she’d seen him, but because he felt obliged to make sure she was all right. He hadn’t tied her or gagged her. Instead, he’d made a deal with her.

  Fact of the matter was that she would need him when it came to Maurice. Maurice didn’t think she’d do anything further to get the money she needed. He’d blown her off as usual. He didn’t realize how desperate she was. Idiot. But Tanner might be able to scare the money out of him. A gun should make a man do about anything to stay alive and from the way Tanner spoke, he had no qualms about killing Maurice. Which seemed fair since Maurice didn’t show any remorse when it came to “taking care of” Tanner or not helping her family. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t heard it for herself. Maurice was Mr. Slick. Had he always been so heartless and she’d just never seen it before? How could a man just order another man’s death?

  How could Facinetti threaten her entire family? Jess wanted to scream thinking about her parents and brothers bound and gagged, waiting to die. It made her angry enough to kill. A shiver raced down her back. Being a party to murder didn’t sit well with her no matter what the circumstances.

  But if they really did trade Maurice for her family, then Tanner wouldn’t have to murder him and what Facinetti did was his problem. At least Tanner would be clear of Maurice’s death and wouldn’t have to go back to prison. Would Tanner care who killed Maurice as long as he died?

  Was she really arguing with herself about who would kill Maurice as opposed to finding a way to keep the man alive?

  Either way, the trick was getting to Maurice. She—they—should do it tonight in case his guys woke up, escaped the wine cellar and gave him the news that Tanner had escaped. Of course, Maurice had no reason to think she and Tanner were allies. Even though she’d quit her job, she still had access to everything. Maurice wouldn’t start changing things until tomorrow at the earliest. No, the trick wasn’t how she’d get into Maurice’s penthouse on Wilshire Boulevard, the trick was getting him out, and she didn’t have much time to work with.

  After a few minutes, Jess peeked over her shoulder and watched Victor work. His body still blocked the wound, but her gaze roamed to Tanner’s very impressive chest and shoulders. She’d never seen a man as cut. Absolutely ripped. His biceps curved impressively as he clenched his fists against the pain. A handful of scars marred his chest and arms. Long slices and round puckered nicks. The man had seen pain before tonight. A layer of sweat coated his skin and he gleamed under the bright light.

  “Can’t you give him a local or something?” Jess asked. She hated pain. Hated seeing other people in pain even worse. Maurice had broken his collarbone two months ago and had been in serious pain for weeks because of an infection after surgery. Every grimace had gone straight to her heart and she’d done everything in her power to make him more comfortable. Now she wished she hadn’t been so sympathetic.

  Victor glanced over his shoulder. “I could give him some lidocaine, but I try to discourage action that lands my patients on this gurney. They tend to stay clear of stupid activity if the visit here hurts as bad or worse than the actual injury.”

  “Spoken like a man who’s never had stitches without painkillers,” Tanner muttered.

  The medic finished stitching Tanner’s side and gave him antibiotics. Showed him how to clean the wound, change the bandages and included her as he spoke. “I used catgut, so your body will absorb the sutures.” Maybe he thought she’d be helping. He didn’t know the sight of blood was one of the triggers for her passing out.

  “When was your last tetanus shot?” Victor asked.

  Tanner shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Victor opened a cabinet and took out a huge needle. With his back to her, he worked at the counter and when he turned around, he took Tanner’s arm and gave him a shot.

  “Fuck!” Tanner clenched his jaw hard.

  “Did I forget to say this might hurt?” Victor asked. He smiled grimly. “Where are you going after this?”

  Tanner’s dark gaze captured hers. Where were they going? It seemed crazy to try for Maurice again now. He’d probably be taking extra precautions after everything that happened tonight. There was always Tanner’s place in Hollywood, if he’d deign to tell her the address. Did he expect her to stay glued to him until this got resolved? Didn’t he understand the time bomb hanging over her family’s heads?

  She wasn’t scared of him anymore. Not the way she had been initially. Clearly there was more to Tanner than he let on and whether she liked it or not, she’d made a deal with him. He said he’d help get her family back and she needed help.

  “Let me ask a different question since that one stumped both of you,” Victor said. “How far away is the bed he’ll be sleeping in tonight?”

  Again she locked eyes with Tanner. His were dark, intense.

  Her parent’s Hancock Park house was twenty minutes away. A little closer than his hotel.

  “Twenty minutes,” she said at the same time he said, “thirty minutes.”

  “Perfect.” The medic wielded another needle and pumped it into Tanner’s arm.

  “What the hell was that?” Tanner snapped.

  “Sedative. With your size and the amount I gave you, you’ve got about twenty minutes before you’ll be out on your ass. I suggest you hurry home.”

  “Goddammit, Victor, I didn’t want a fucking sedative.” Tanner sat up and swayed. Victor steadied him with a grip on his arm.

  “I know and I don’t usually give ’em.” He smiled again, his eyes gleaming. “It’s just my little way of slowing down your stupidity. You can thank me later and you can consider this my thank you for watching Chino’s back.”

  Victor helped Jess get Tanner into the car, and she drove fast and furious toward the home she grew up in. Tanner looked dazed, out of his element. Now was as good a time as any to ask the question that had been burning in her head for a while.

  “What did Maurice have to do with you going to prison?”

  Tanner rested his head against the back of the seat. “He hired me a real good lawyer. A lawyer so good he made absolutely certain I’d go to prison instead of Alex.”

  “Alex is—was Maurice’s son, right? He died about a year before Maurice hired me.” Jess had only seen pictures of the man. He’d been in his early twenties when he died. From what Jess had discovered, he’d overdosed and it had devastated Maurice.

  “Bingo,” Tanner said. “He was also my best friend. My best friend who robbed a convenience store and let me drive away without saying a word. I had no idea when
the cops stopped us that I was going away for the next seven years. Juneau made sure Alex got off and pinned the whole thing on me.”

  “Oh my God,” Jess whispered. The idea appalled her. Having seven years of his life taken from him…hard to comprehend. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah…me too.” His chuckle surprised her and Jess looked over to see him shake his head. “Alex was fucking nuts. He lived life on the edge. Was always looking for the next high. I’d never met anyone like him.” Tanner’s words slowed as the drug settled in. The hard edge in his eyes disappeared as a smile curved his lips and softened the hard planes of his face. “I remember one time, Alex got us into a bar downtown. He just slipped the bouncer some bills and we cruised in like we owned the place. God, what a night we had…” His smile dimmed. “He almost always got what he wanted.”

  “Almost?” Jess took advantage of the sedative working in his bloodstream.

  “He never got his daddy’s attention.” Tanner leaned his head against the seat. “Not until the trial.” Tanner didn’t say anything else. What was the point? His best friend had let him take the fall. No wonder the man was filled with rage.

  Jess pulled up to her house just in time. Tanner could barely keep his eyes open. She tucked the car into the garage and helped him out, slinging his arm around her neck and wedging her shoulder under his armpit. The man was a bona fide tank, made of solid muscle. He weighed a ton.

  Opening the side door brought back the terror. The sheer panic of walking in yesterday—except now it was officially two days ago—and finding the house bloody and demolished. She’d cleaned what she could, but the destruction was evident in the red spots on the carpet and the dents in the walls.

  Jess barely got Tanner into her brother’s room before he passed out. Eric had a double bed, but Tanner filled it with his huge body. He didn’t look any less dangerous with his eyes closed and body prone in sleep. She covered him with a quilted blanket her mom had made, ran her hand over the soft fabric.

  Her mom had been miserable making this quilt. “My first and last,” Terry St. John had vowed six years ago. Terry never let a challenge go by and that included a dare of quilting a blanket. Her mom had done almost everything once. From mountain climbing and sky diving to water skiing and tennis. If she hadn’t participated in a sport, then it hadn’t been invented yet.

  She had more energy than ten people put together, which she’d needed to raise five kids, four of whom were rambunctious boys.

  Exhaustion crept up on Jess as she wandered the house, fixing things she’d missed the other day. The clock on the wall said two-thirty a.m. She hadn’t slept in two days and her lids felt weighted with bricks. Obviously, finding Maurice tonight wasn’t going to happen, so maybe she needed to recharge. With a clear mind, she’d be able to figure out how to get Maurice away from his “guys” long enough to get him into Tanner’s hands. Long enough to either get the money she needed or trade her lying boss.

  Chapter Seven

  Tanner heard them coming, felt his pulse rev. He canted his head, saw four of them this time. All big, bald, ugly and tattooed within an inch of their lives. He wouldn’t come away unscathed. But he wouldn’t die. Not today. At least he hoped not.

  Dark clouds covered the sun and made the dry desert scenery stark. Barren. Dirt, cactus and tumbleweeds didn’t compare to the lush green Colorado mountains where he’d grown up. The prison fence closed around him, afforded no way out. But how many times had this happened in the past four years? How many times would it happen until they left him alone? Or killed him. The answers really didn’t matter. The one important thing that kept him focused was survival. He had to survive to even the score.

  The first one attacked. Tanner ducked and all but threw him over his head. A second one grabbed his arms from behind and Tanner used him as leverage to kick another in the chest. He did the same with a different guy, but this time the force took him backward into the man behind him and they tumbled to hard-packed earth. Tanner turned and shoved his forearm under the man’s throat, cut off his air.

  Sweat popped out on Tanner’s forehead, slicked his arms as he gasped for breath. With a little more pressure he could make sure this guy never bothered him again.

  Someone beat on his back, a feeble attempt to get his attention considering how he’d taken all these men down. Pain lanced his side and he groaned, but kept the man pinned. A second blow to the same area had him rolling over in agony. He fell. The ground disappeared and his body slammed against hard surface, jolting him.

  Tanner’s eyes snapped open. He was on a wood floor, breathing hard. Early dawn barely lit the room. His side throbbed like hell and pain rumbled across his body. A ceiling fan hummed softy and circulated cool air over his sweat-coated skin. Tangled sheets draped off the bed. A tall oak bookshelf sat next to a similar desk along the wall in front of him. On his right, a mirrored closet door reflected the beating he’d taken last night at the hands of Juneau’s men. He didn’t recognize the room as he sat up on his elbows.

  But he recognized the woman huddled in the far corner, her eyes wide, glassy with tears and a hand over her throat.

  “Jess…” He whispered her name, barely got it out as the entire picture cleared in his brain. He’d been dreaming. Dreaming of a fight…of choking a man. But shit. Instead of strangling a man in his dreams, he’d almost killed Jess. “Jesus, Holy fuck, Jess?” He made a move toward her on his hands and knees and she held up a wobbly hand, warning him back, shaking her head. The terror in her eyes decimated him. He sat, took a deep breath. “Goddammit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t want t—” He dropped his head in his hands, shame swamping him the way it usually did when he fucked up. Just as quickly he forced another look at her.

  She nodded as one slow tear streaked down her face. She pointed to his side. “I opened up your wound.” Her gravelly voice whispered over the quiet room. Blood stained the fingers she pointed with and Tanner looked at his side. She’d grabbed him or punched him to get him off her. Smart girl. “You were dreaming,” she whispered. “I tried to wake you up and you…you…”

  Attacked her. He’d attacked her in her own home. She’d saved his life last night and he’d repaid her by nearly choking her to death.

  Tanner fell back against the floor. He should never have touched her, or taken her out of that soundstage. The day he got his gun, he should have used it on himself. But he’d wanted to use it on Juneau first.

  “I’m sorry,” Tanner murmured. He covered his eyes with an arm, couldn’t look at her. “I’m sorry.” Sorry he’d shot her. Sorry he’d made her part of his twisted scheme to get Juneau. Sorry he’d barged into her life like a runaway train. It took a minute, but he finally faced the music and sat up. She hadn’t moved from her spot in the corner, but her eyes were clear. A thick red line the size of his arm marked her neck and fresh guilt ate him up.

  “Does that happen a lot?” Her brows quirked up in a leery arch.

  “The dreams?” Or nearly killing an innocent woman? She nodded and he owed her the truth. “Yeah. The dreams happen a lot. But I’ve never attacked anyone because of them before. I’d like to say this was a first and a last.”

  Her eyes widened a fraction before she swallowed and slowly stood. “Next time I’ll poke you with a broom stick or something,”

  Tanner almost grinned. She hadn’t asked him to leave or made him feel worse. She’d made a joke. A minute ago, he doubted anything would make him feel better, but she’d managed to take the edge off. “That might be a good idea,” he said.

  “Or maybe I’ll throw a bucket of water over you.”

  That single sentence took him back more than ten years. To the time he and his sisters were washing the family cars for extra money. The girls had ganged up on him and dumped a bucket of cold, soapy water over his back. He’d retaliated by spraying them with the hose. His dad had stormed out of the house, yelling for them stop. He’d confiscated the hose and lined them all up on the driveway. They’d a
ll been sure they were going to be grounded for a month, but with a wicked grin, Dad stated. “He who controls the hose is master.” Then he’d doused them all senseless. The ensuing water fight had lasted a solid hour with massive bouts of squawking, squealing and yelping. Tanner couldn’t remember a time he’d laughed harder.

  Pushing the memory from his mind, he nodded. He might’ve smiled at Jess’s wry statement, but felt like too much of a scumbag. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so. I’m sorry I hurt your side. We should check the stitches.”

  Tanner saw the blood on his shirt. Not a lot, but it had seeped through the bandages. They’d need to be changed and he’d need Jess to help him. The minute she put her soft little hands on him, his cock would jump, grow rock hard and he’d be in a different kind of pain the rest of the day.

  Fuck that.

  “I can do it. I need to get used to changing them myself anyway. I’ll let you know how it looks.”

  She eyed him suspiciously and slowly shook her head. “No, you won’t.” He started to protest and she cut him off. “Oh, you’ll change the bandages, but you won’t tell me if you need more stitches. I have a feeling Victor was right. None of his patients want to go back to him anytime soon.” Jess eased by him. “He gave me extra bandages last night. I’ll get them for you.”

  She’d nearly moved past him when Tanner snagged her ankle with his hand. She froze.

  He looked up, caught her gaze. That same energy that bounced between them yesterday sizzled up again now. Even through her jeans he felt the tensile strength of her leg. She was tough. Tougher than he’d pegged her for when he’d first seen her arguing with Juneau. The longer he spent with her, the more she impressed him. His sisters would’ve approved and they’d always been tough critics when it came to the girls he’d brought home. Not that he ever planned to bring someone home again.