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

by Pamela Clare

  He ran a hand over his face. His voice rough from sleep. “I had second shift.”

  “I took it, sent Bobby home, put Thomas and Nelson on outside duty. You didn’t miss anything but a rangy-looking fox crossing the driveway around three-thirty.”

  She’d refused his bed and taken his couch so he could sleep in comfort. Turned off his alarm and taken his watch. He was supposed to be taking care of her, keeping her safe, and instead she was taking care of him.

  God, he could hug her. But what the hell was she thinking?

  He wished she were closer so he could see her face, but he stayed still, holding himself in a forced comfortableness, thankful for the sheet that still covered his morning hard-on. Wondering what she might do if he pulled her into bed and took her clothes off. “How long have you been watching me sleep?” His voice was still rough sounding, but he knew it was from the sudden image of Celina warm and naked under him.

  “Awhile.” She unfolded her legs and let her feet swing. “I didn’t want Freddy to get you.”

  “Freddy?”

  “Krueger.” At his blank look, she smiled. “Nightmare on Elm Street.”

  “Right.” He sat up, pulling the sheet with him. Leaned back against his pillows and put one arm behind his head to prop it up, still trying to look comfortable.

  Celina stopped swinging her feet, set her mug down, and slid off his credenza. She picked up her gun and shoved it into the backside of her waistband. Her hair was loose around her face and she was wearing one of his white t-shirts sans bra.

  His heart did a skip as he stared at the points growing out of his shirt when she turned to pick up the coffee mug, and, then, thank you, Jesus, she walked over to the bed. She smelled good, like she’d just stepped out of his shower, and she was definitely wearing his shirt. “We survived the night,” she said. “No one got hurt.”

  As she looked down at him and held out the mug, Cooper willed himself not to reach for her. To accept the coffee instead.

  “I don’t make coffee too often.” She sat on the edge of the bed, one knee bent and touching his hip through the sheet. “But I know you like it strong so I doubled the amount the instructions listed.”

  Cooper sipped the coffee with her staring at him, her eyes big and soft in her face, waiting for his reaction. “Thanks,” he managed.

  Staring at her over the rim of the coffee mug, he waited. He wanted her so bad, his teeth were on edge, but he refused to make the first move. Her invitation was clear. Bringing him coffee, sitting on the bed braless, wearing his shirt. But still, he would wait. She’d been through an emotional few days. She was looking for comfort. Comfort he wanted more than anything to provide, so long as he wasn’t misleading her like he had in Des Moines. Her crush on him would melt away after this was over and he knew that. He didn’t want her to look back at this moment and think he’d taken advantage of her vulnerability in any way.

  But damn, the way things were going this moment, this sweet moment with her sitting here like one of his fantasies come true, with her hair freshly washed and her voice soft and free of fear, might be the last one he had like this with her. Their future, both professional and personal, loomed infinitely dark, like a black hole in front of them.

  Celina drew up her knees, hugging them, her bare feet resting on the bed. “Melinda called last night after you went to sleep.”

  Cooper gripped the mug tighter, his lower region softening at the name of his ex-wife. So much for taking advantage of the moment. He glanced at the nightstand and saw his cell phone wasn’t there.

  “I took the phone when I turned off your alarm. I didn’t want anyone to wake you.” She smoothed her hair with her left hand, pulled it over her shoulder. “Today’s your day with Owen.”

  “Owen doesn’t come until Saturday.”

  “Cooper, it is Saturday.”

  Damn, she was right. He set down the mug. “I’ll call Melinda and explain the situation. Owen will understand.”

  “Owen will not understand.” Her eyes were fierce. “Besides, I’m going to the L.A. office today. There’s going to be a press conference. I spoke with Dupé, and he agreed I should be there. They’re going to give out more details about what Emilio’s done and expand the manhunt to include Valquis. I want to be sure Emilio sees me on national television. That he knows I’m not cowering or hiding from him. It may just be the trick to flush him out once and for all.”

  Cooper shifted so he was fully sitting up. He draped his arms over his knees. “I’ll take you to L.A.”

  Her gaze dropped to his lips, rose to his eyes again. “Melinda said Owen’s guitar lesson is at ten and then he’s planning on you taking him to lunch. He’s counting on you to spend the day with him, Cooper. You can’t let him down.”

  How many times had Cooper heard those words from Melinda? “What else did Melinda say?”

  Celina hugged herself tighter and looked away. “Nothing, really.”

  Her body language told him different.

  An angry tension spread through his veins as he thought about Melinda and her razorblade tongue. He’d been cut too many times not to have a healthy distaste for it. Feeling incredibly protective, he reached out and touched the ends of Celina’s hair. Its sleek weight felt like satin to his fingers. “It’s all right. You don’t have to tell me. I can imagine what she probably said.”

  “She saw the news about Londano. I explained that I was here because you felt responsible for me and were trying to protect me. I told her there was nothing going on between us.”

  Right? Her unspoken question hung between them, her eyes searching his again for a reaction.

  His heart skipped and then settled into a hard thumping. He rubbed her hair between his fingers, watched her lips part. She’d taken on Lana, Forester, and now Melinda, all in an effort to keep him out of trouble, even after the way he’d squashed her hopes of having a relationship. Even after he threw her inexperience in her face constantly by calling her kid and rookie. “You always manage to surprise me, Celina. In a good way.”

  She titled her head, smiled. “You better hold off on the praise. I’m pretty sure Melinda didn’t believe me. She was pretty angry I was here. That I answered your phone and refused to wake you up to talk to her.”

  Cooper couldn’t help but smile back. “Melinda has issues. They’re with me. Don’t take it personally.”

  “She’s still in love with you.”

  A small chuckle escaped his throat. He so didn’t want to talk about Melinda. “She’s not in love with me, but she’s still trying to make me into the man she thought she married. She wants me to be a good dad to Owen. Unfortunately, her idea and mine on that subject are different. Just like when we were married, she emphasizes quantity over quality.”

  Celina nodded. “Sometimes women use anger to cover up fear. She’s no doubt scared something will happen to you. That you won’t be around for her and Owen.”

  “You’re very perceptive for someone so…”

  Cooper stopped himself before he said it, but Celina finished the sentence for him. “Young?”

  He grimaced. She smirked. “My mother and father had a strong bond, still do, so I never watched my parents go through divorce, thank goodness. But my best friend in middle school went through it. It was ugly. Her dad ran off with her mother’s best friend. Tami spent a lot of time at my house. Her mother was very angry and it made Tami angry too, but what I realized was that my friend was mostly just scared. So was her mom. Their futures were uncertain for a while. To this day, Tami has trouble putting trust in anyone. Her dad ran away with her godmother. Talk about issues.”

  “So you took care of Tami,” Cooper said, giving her hair a gentle tug. “And you took care of that old security guard’s blood pressure, and Annie Richardson’s kids.” And now you’re trying to take care of me and Owen. He sighed. “You’re a nice person.”

  “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

  “Don’t jeopardize yourself trying to m
ake things right for me.”

  “Thomas can take me to L.A. I’ll be safe at FBI headquarters. You need to be here with Owen.”

  He did need to be there with Owen. He also needed to keep Celina safe.

  And away from Thomas.

  “No. I don’t like it,” he told her.

  She studied him for a moment, a grin lifting one corner of her mouth. She let go of her legs, shifting so the one closest to him folded under her butt, enabling her to lean toward him. Close enough to kiss. “What do you like, Agent Harris? Besides logical women in short skirts?”

  Damn. He liked her. More than he wanted to. He liked her in his bed wearing his clothes. He liked her turning off his alarm and bringing him coffee. “Are you trying to distract me so I’ll give in and let you go to L.A. without me?”

  The grin widened to lift the other side of her mouth. “Now would I do that?”

  He ran his hand under her hair to the back of her neck and pulled her the half inch forward so he could kiss her. The moment his lips met hers, she sighed, deep in her throat, and Cooper’s reservations evaporated like the steam from his coffee.

  Her lips parted under his and her left hand came up and rested on his forearm, slightly hesitant, as he kissed her deep and long. She kissed him back, her lips not hesitant like her touch, but all out intense and consuming. She tasted sweet and dark like his French roast with a couple teaspoons of sugar.

  Careful of her injured wrist, he placed his hands on her sides and lifted her gently on top of him, leaning back as he did so. She took his lead and straddled him, the thin cotton fabric of his shirt a teasing barrier between his bare chest and her hard nipples. As she lowered her weight, he steadied her with his hands and inhaled her with his mouth.

  Cooper kept his left hand on her waist and let his right hand explore under the shirt. Celina broke away from his lips on a gasp as his fingers pinched a nipple. “Be nice,” she murmured against his mouth.

  So he massaged her instead, filling his hand with the heavy weight of one taut breast and then the other, wanting to follow his hand with his mouth. In order to do that, he needed her out of his shirt.

  Both hands on her waist again, he raised her up, using his stomach muscles to pull himself up at the same time. Then he tugged the shirt up and off, still mindful of her injured arm. She helped as best she could, and Cooper stopped as the t-shirt fell to the floor.

  A beautiful woman was sitting in his lap. A smart, beautiful woman. Her breasts were full and heavy from his fondling, her lips as well from his kissing. She was regarding him with that same wariness she seemed to wear on her face around him now. Seeking his approval, scared he’d shut her down. Wanting him to want her.

  Want her he did, in this very physical way. He wanted to touch her everywhere, to keep her in his bed until he’d done everything he’d fantasized about doing and then made up a few new fantasies. But he wanted more than a fulfillment of his sexual fantasies.

  He wanted to protect her. To spend his days and nights with her. And he wanted her approval too. Approval to be the man who could keep her safe and happy.

  He touched her cheek with the ends of his fingers. Let them trail down her neck, over her collarbone that was half covered with white gauze and tape. Her skin felt firm and smooth as silk under his fingertips.

  “I’m okay, Cooper,” she said. “You don’t have to baby me.”

  He smiled at her insistence. “I’m not babying you, Celina. I’m staring at your beauty.”

  She grinned. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she moved a centimeter closer, seating herself in his lap in the exact spot they both benefited from. The heat of her body in that spot, combined with her lush breasts brushing his chest, made him jerk.

  “Jesus,” he swore under his breath as she lowered her lips to his. He knew he should be up and out of bed, watching the monitors, figuring out how to balance Owen’s schedule today with his own. Figuring out a way to capture Londano and Valquis and keep Celina safe. But all he could do was tug her closer, kiss her back. He’d never felt this way about a woman. Not even Melinda.

  He rolled Celina underneath him, careful of her wrist, and withdrew the gun from her waistband. As he moved the gun from one hand to the other to set it on the nightstand, he dropped his lips to her neck and kissed the area around her bandage. He went lower to take her breast in his mouth and felt smug satisfaction when she inhaled sharply and pulled him closer.

  Chapter Thirty

  The two-way radio on the credenza squawked. Thomas’s voice filled the room. “Switchfoot, this is Crazy Clock. Come in.”

  Cooper released Celina’s breast, laid his forehead on her chest, and blew out a sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Celina chuckled under her breath. “He told me to check in with him every hour on the dot.” She lifted her head from the bed and peered at Cooper’s alarm clock. “Seven-o-one. He’s punctual.”

  “Switchfoot, this is Crazy Clock,” Thomas’s voice had elevated a notch. “Are you all right? Over.”

  Cooper rolled off Celina. She scooted off the bed, swept up the radio, and smiled at Cooper over it as she answered. “This is Switchfoot.” While irritated with his partner’s bad timing, Cooper enjoyed the swing of Celina’s breasts as she paced back to the bed. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Yeah, not quite,” Thomas responded. “Melinda and Owen are on their way up the driveway.”

  “Ah, shit.” Cooper threw back the sheet now tangled between his legs. “What the hell’s she doing here at seven in the morning?”

  Celina picked his shirt off the floor. “Roger that,” she said calmly into the radio, then she dropped it on the bed and pulled on the shirt. Grabbing her hair, she slipped it out from beneath the collar and let out an exasperated sigh. “You hit the bathroom.” She shoved her gun back in the waistband of her shorts. “I’ll answer the door and let them in.”

  He sat up, then stood, rubbing his hands over his face through his hair, and pulling on his running shorts. “I’m not sending you to the door to handle my ex-wife at seven o’clock in the morning.”

  “You’re going to open the door looking like that?” She pointed at the tent between his legs.

  Damn. Right again. He pointed at her nipples, still predominantly on display under his shirt. “You’re going to greet them like that?”

  Celina glanced down, crossed her arms over her breasts. “I’ll throw on a sweatshirt.”

  She left the room and Cooper heard her bare feet padding quickly on his hardwood floors. He glanced at his bed, and even though he was in a pickle, smiled to himself as he too jogged across the hardwood to the bathroom.

  Celina fought with her sweatshirt as she walked into the kitchen to open the door for Melinda and Owen. The tight sleeve of her right arm snagged on her cast and she had the shirt half over her head, half not, when Melinda opened the door and pushed Owen through it in front of her. Cooper’s ex stopped at the sight of Celina and lowered her Gucci sunglasses an inch on her nose. The two women stood staring at each other.

  Melinda was at least six inches taller than Celina, owing part of her height to a pair of embossed leather heels. Her natural blond hair was long and straight and pulled up in a partial ponytail, partial bun on top of her head with a set of polished black chopsticks embedded in it. The perfect weapon, Celina thought, to poke someone’s eye out. Someone like the woman sleeping with her ex-husband.

  “Hi,” Celina said cheerfully as she shoved her left arm in the sweatshirt and snugged it down over Cooper’s t-shirt. Melinda’s dark brown eyes ran an accusatory lap from Celina’s head to her feet. “You must be Melinda.” Without thinking, she offered her right hand. “I’m Celina. We spoke on the phone last night.”

  Melinda regarded her hand and the accompanying cast. She didn’t accept Celina’s handshake.

  Celina punched in the code on the security alarm by the door under Melinda’s unwavering scrutiny. Then she smiled at the young boy with his guitar case standing
beside his mother. He was older than the picture on Cooper’s dresser. His hair was longer, curling on the ends, and blond like his mother’s, but his other features matched his father’s right down to the tiny cleft in his chin.

  “And you must be Owen,” Celina said, still forcing brightness into her voice as she came back to a spot in front of him. Using her left hand, she gathered her hair and pulled it out from under the sweatshirt’s collar, and this time extended her hand to shake Owen’s. “Your dad tells me you’re quite a guitar player.”

  Owen nodded and shook her fingers, his eyes darting to his mother, back to Celina. “My friend plays too,” he told her. “We’re going to have a garage band this summer.”

  Celina smiled an honest smile this time. “That’s cool.”

  “Where is Cooper?” Melinda looked past Celina with efficient dismissal in her tone and her body posture.

  “He’s in the bathroom,” Celina said. “He just woke up.”

  Melinda pressed her red glossed lips into a tight line. “He just woke up?”

  Celina felt her true smile fading. Fast. “Yes. As I explained to you on the phone, he’s been working the Londano case all week. Last night was the first sleep he’s had in the past seventy-two hours.”

  “I see,” Melinda said, but the tone of her voice said she didn’t buy it. “Owen, honey, take your guitar into the living room and practice that new chord Brian gave you last week.”

  The boy gave Celina a look that said sorry as if this was a cue he’d been given from dear old mom before and he knew what was heading Celina’s way. He picked up his gig bag to clear out.

  Once he was out of hearing distance, Melinda stepped forward, glaring down at Celina. “You spent the night here.” It was not a question, not even a rhetorical one. It was a statement. The start, Celina knew, of an ass chewing.

  “Yes,” Cooper’s voice came from behind Celina. She turned to see him sauntering into the kitchen, sport pants falling appropriately in all the right places. “She’s under my surveillance at the moment. Why are you here so early, Mel?”