She had a feeling Pearson was more right than he knew.
Hell was about to break loose.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“OKAY, MAYBE I AM OVERREACTING,” Luke agreed, his fury refusing to abate. “But one minute you’ve got me rescuing you from the restroom where some guy is waiting or watching…” He threw up his hands. “I don’t know. Then you disappear with Fuentes.” His glare fixed on her then. “What’s going on, Cris?”
She stopped pacing and faced him, her green eyes glittering, the mass of fiery hair flowing around her shoulders. “My name is Clarissa Rivers.”
Clarissa? Cris. Okay, he could see that.
“Cris is a nickname.”
She nodded. “I’m a cop.”
Luke laughed. Couldn’t help himself. But the amusement fizzled with her continued glare.
“Las Vegas Metro.” She reached beneath the cushion of the sofa and pulled out a badge. “See for yourself.” She tossed it to him.
Looked real enough. But this was Vegas, where anything was possible.
He placed the badge on the table next to the sofa. “Why would a cop be working as a maid in a Casino hotel?”
“I’m undercover.” She moistened her lips, looked a little hesitant. “That’s all I can tell you right now.’
Like she was getting off that easy. “If you’re a cop—” he tugged off his jacket and pitched it onto the sofa “—then why doesn’t Shannon know?” Shannon was the VIP manager. She would know everything that was going down in her hotel.
“Shannon can’t know who I am or what I’m doing. Is that clear?”
A frown furrowed his brow, making his head ache to match his painful bum knee. “Is she a suspect?” That was impossible. Shannon was Shannon. A straight shooter. A great pal. She didn’t even drink.
“I’m sorry, Luke. I can’t give you any more than that. But I can tell you that if you breathe a word about this to anyone, you could endanger my operation as well as my life.”
The words shook him even as on some level he understood that would be the case. “So Fuentes and that guy in the corridor upstairs are both suspects?”
“Like I said,” she reiterated, “I can’t tell you any more.”
One of those tiny straps fell down her shoulder, making him want to follow its path with his mouth. At least now he knew for sure that kiss hadn’t been real.
“So that kiss in the men’s room,” he ventured, clearly a glutton for punishment, “it was part of your cover?”
She looked directly into his eyes, something in hers changed. “Yes.”
Before he could stutter out some reply, she walked straight up to him. “But this—” she put her arms around his neck “—this isn’t about work.”
Then she kissed him. Slower, with far more attention to detail. Deep, lingering, mind-blowing kisses. His hands found their way to her hair. Soft, silky. He could touch her like this forever.
She undid his shirt, one button at a time. Then she pulled the tails from his trousers. He shuddered with the anticipation burning through his veins.
He wanted…he wanted to undress her but she was in control. She pushed his hands away so that she could shove his shirt off his shoulders. Every move of her hands was accompanied by her forcing him back another step.
“Cuff links,” he mumbled between the tangling of their lips.
He helped her remove the cuff links, and his shirt dropped to the floor. She forced him back another step. His hands found their way to the delicate zipper of her dress. Down, down, down, he pushed it. Then he slid the garment in that same direction. She stepped out of it, leaving it a glimmering jade mass against the white carpet. His gaze slid back down her thighs to the weapon strapped there. Before he could comment, she forced him back yet another step.
His hands skimmed her body. Bra…panties. God, she was nearly naked. He drew back to look…trembled at her beauty. The next step landed him against the door frame of the opening that connected their rooms.
She scratched her side. That was when he noticed the scattering of red blotches.
“Hives—from the maid’s uniform. It’s a long story. Now,” she said as she wrenched his trousers open, “do you have condoms, Luke?”
He nodded.
The trousers fell to his ankles.
“Mmm.” She surveyed his body, her gaze landing on the tented front of his boxers.
He toed off his shoes and stumbled free of his trousers. She was guiding him into his room…toward the bed. Good thing because he couldn’t take his eyes off her even for a second.
By the time the backs of his knees encountered the mattress his boxers were history and her bra was slipping off her arms.
Her breasts were perfect, just the right size and with an intriguing upward tilt as if the nipples were designed just for him to enjoy with his mouth.
She pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his waist. “Condoms?”
He reached blindly into the drawer of the table next to the bed. Her lips were teasing his…nibbling…licking and promising things that made his heart thud.
Not relinquishing control, she tugged the condom from his hand and tore it open. His fingers fisted in the linens. She moved backward on her knees until his erection stood firmly in front of her. His breath caught as her cool fingers worked the condom into place.
Then she dropped onto the mattress next to him and said, “Your turn.”
Stunned for a few moments, he could only lie there with her sighing like a kitten next to him. Then he bolted into action.
CLARISSA’S BREATH CAUGHT at the sight of him looming over her, his weight resting on his knees. She loved watching him hesitate. The idea that he couldn’t decide where to put his hands first made her feel a heady rush of power. Then he touched her. His hands glided up her torso and closed around her breasts. She made a sound of approval. He leaned lower, kissed one breast, then the other. As he kissed his way up her throat, one hand pushed inside her panties.
She was hot and wet and his searching fingers found all the right spots. She arched against his hand, wanting more.
He groaned.
She stilled.
Not a sound indicating pleasure.
But he didn’t stop teasing her intimately.
Then she realized. His knee. His weight was resting on his knees.
She pressed her palms against his chest in a gesture of stop. When his questioning gaze lit on hers, she said, “I want back on top.”
Confusion reigned a moment before understanding dawned. “I’m not an invalid,” he growled.
“Luke—”
While he dragged her panties downward, she lifted her bottom, then her legs, off the mattress to accommodate his efforts. The silk thong slid off her feet and landed on the floor.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered.
Okay, so he wanted to be in charge now.
Fine.
She did as he ordered. For several long seconds he did nothing but look. The longer he looked, the hotter she got. Her body started to writhe in anticipation.
“Luke,” she warned.
Then he shifted into position between her legs. His tightly compressed lips told her how much every move cost him.
His mouth closed over hers and her hands found their way to his chest…his back. She wanted to touch all of him. To feel his weight on hers.
He lifted her hips. She reached for him, guided him into position. And then he entered her in one deliberate thrust.
They both held perfectly still for several frantic beats of her heart. It felt so good to have him inside her, filling her, making her ache to move.
He started that ancient rhythm and all thought ceased. There was only their bodies, joined in complement. The sensations climbed and climbed until she couldn’t hold back any longer. She came with a vengeance. He tumbled into climax right after her.
Seconds later he lay next to her, both of them gasping for breath.
Before she caught her breath completel
y, she reached into the drawer for another condom. He removed the first and she quickly replaced it.
“Don’t even think about moving,” she warned as she climbed astride him. “It’s my turn.”
She sank onto him in one slow, delicious effort.
Clarissa didn’t wait for her body to adjust to the new depth, she just began to rock. His hands closed around her breasts as she kept up the steady movements, pausing now and then to grind against him. His fingers clamped onto her thighs while his face contorted with euphoria.
When the first signs of quickening hit her, she sped up her pace. Attuned to her needs, he lifted his hips to increase the pressure. She cried out at the incredible sensation.
They crashed into release together for a second time. She slumped onto his chest, couldn’t bear the idea of disengaging their bodies.
For long minutes they lay that way without saying a word, their respiration struggling to return to normal. Then she couldn’t wait any longer.
“Tell me about your knee.”
She felt the stillness overtake him.
Propping her arms on his muscular chest, she rested her head in her hands. “Tell me,” she pressed.
His eyes searched hers, maybe for some hidden agenda. But she had none. She genuinely wanted to know.
“It’s wrecked. There will be no more races for me.”
His statement sent shockwaves quaking through her.
“Besides my doctor and my agent,” he went on, “you’re the only person on the planet who knows this.”
She kissed his lips. “I guess you’ll have no choice but to kill me now.”
He laughed in spite of himself.
“So.” She turned serious again. “What’s your plan?”
He exhaled a weary breath. “Keep doing endorsements as long as someone will have me and, after that, I don’t know.”
What a terrible feeling that had to be. He had clearly worked long and hard to reach this place in his chosen pursuit and now it was gone. All he’d worked for. Damn, that was ugly.
“There are other things you could do,” she suggested. “Coaching.”
“Yeah.” He toyed with a strand of her hair. “I thought about that.”
She traced the angular line of his jaw. “I think you would make a great coach.”
“Believe it or not, I have a teaching degree,” he confessed, almost self-consciously.
“Teaching. That’s great. Good teachers are always in demand.” She scooted up to put her eyes directly in line with his. “See, you have lots of options.”
“No feeling sorry for myself?”
She shook her head. “Absolutely not.”
“What about you?” He rolled her onto her back and burrowed between her legs, resting most of his weight on his elbows on either side of her. “What made you decide to be a cop?”
She wrapped her legs around his and teased the erection that hadn’t sagged in the slightest. “My father was a financial mogul. Big bucks. Never enough time for his only daughter.” She left out the part about the nannies and maids and numerous wives.
“No wonder you seemed so at home in this world.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Is your father still alive?”
She nodded. “Living on his own Caribbean island with wife number six.” Oops, she hadn’t meant to say that last part.
“What happened to your mother?”
“She died when I was two. A car crash. I don’t even remember her.”
“I’m sorry.” He kissed her lips. “That’s tough.”
She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “I have to go back up there.”
“It’s after midnight,” Luke noted, surprised or maybe disappointed that she would even suggest leaving the bed.
“Which means it’s technically Saturday morning. I have to try to close this case in the next twenty-four hours. I know you don’t understand, but I have my orders.”
He heaved a sigh. “I guess a cop can’t be expected to work nine to five.”
She smiled. “Chaos would own the night if we did.”
He flopped back onto the mattress, freeing her. “Just remember, when you’re done, I’ll be waiting here for an encore.”
“Deal.” She scooted off the bed and grabbed for her panties.
“Is what you’re about to do dangerous?” he asked as he went up on his side and propped his head in his hand.
She couldn’t stop herself. She had to survey that long, lean body. “Possibly.” She licked her lips. God, he was gorgeous.
And nice for a celebrity…and a professional athlete.
“Maybe I should go as your backup,” he suggested all too sincerely.
“You stay here,” she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. “The last thing I need is to have to worry about your safety.”
“Just be careful,” he urged. “I’d kind of like to get to know you better.”
Clarissa smiled. Sweet. She rushed over and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. “We’ll talk about this later.” She backed away from the bed. “For sure.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
1:30 a.m.
CLARISSA TUGGED AT HER DRESS as she stepped off the elevator on the twenty-fifth floor. She scratched her side. Damned hives. They should be gone by now.
“Back for more, Mrs. Jennings?” Douglas asked as she entered.
Clarissa smiled. “For a little while.” She glanced around the room. “I was looking for Mr. Fuentes.”
If he was here…maybe she could get another look at those numerical lists in his room. She had the key, after all. She couldn’t take anything and expect it to be admissible in court, but she could get as much information as possible in hopes of heading off wherever those weapons were going. Terrorists most likely. In that event, even without a warrant the information might be usable.
“One moment, ma’am.” Douglas spoke to someone via his Secret Service–type communications link, then he turned to her. “Mr. Fuentes is upstairs in Club Red.”
She gifted the security guard with a big smile. “Thank you, Douglas.”
In deference to her stilettos and her aching feet, she took the elevator. She strode into the corridor and headed for the door. Another security guard nodded as she entered the room.
She glanced around the room. “Mr. Fuentes?” she asked.
“Booth two,” the guard told her.
Clarissa started forward, then hesitated. “Oh, my.” She checked her purse. “I forgot my cell.” She smiled broadly for the guard and to hide the lie. “I’ll be right back.”
This time she took the stairs. Moving as fast as she dared, she rushed to room 2514. With a quick glance right, then left, she slid the key card into the slot and pushed into the room. The bright neon glow from the Strip pouring into the wall of windows prevented the room from being pitch black.
After snagging her .22 from her thigh holster, she moved quickly to the credenza and opened the briefcase. Scanning the room once more, she dared to turn on the floor lamp next to her. The lists were there. She flipped through the pages hoping to find a name or a location. Then she found it. Miami.
So Russo was the delivery connection. The weapons would be shipped to Miami and then distributed to the black-market buyers from there.
How did Weldon fit into the picture?
Clarissa dug out her cell phone and put through the call to Pearson. “Miami’s the distribution point,” she told him. “Based on what I overheard earlier tonight, I’d say three days from now is the date.”
“I’ll pass this along to ATF,” Pearson said. “Any luck connecting Bainbridge to this operation?”
Clarissa actually hoped that there wouldn’t be a connection, since Luke considered her a friend.
Luke.
Damn. How had she let that happen?
I’d kind of like to get to know you better.
“Not yet,” she said in answer to Pearson’s question. She couldn’t let thoughts of Luke distract her just now. “I shoul
d get out of here.”
“I don’t have to remind you,” Pearson said, “that we need this case closed ASAP.”
“Yes, sir.”
She closed the phone. Time to make her exit.
Her weapon still clenched in her right hand, her purse and phone in her left, she was halfway across the room when she heard someone outside the door.
Bet Me Page 6
