by Mia Dymond
Finally, Max unfolded his arms, sat beside Cameron, and stretched his legs in front of him.
Rachel released the breath she didn’t realize she held. “I’m not clear about last night’s events,” she told Max.
Max gave a slight nod. “According to your tox screen, Someone slipped Rohypnol in your wine.”
Rachel frowned. “Rohypnol?”
“Ruffies, the date rape drug.”
Rachel swallowed hard. Hawke gave her hand another squeeze. “I’ve read about it. Apparently the younger male party uses it most. Who gave me a dose?”
“Don’t know. We’ve got a room full of suspects but no leads.”
Although she appeared surprised by Max’s information, Cameron went after him like a feral cat. Fangs clenched and claws bared.
“The gala was a closed event. The placed reeked of buff, beefy trained military types.” Cameron tilted her head to squint at Max. “Where was the bodyguard at our table?”
Rachel widened her eyes. The oxygen left the air around them. It was quite possible Cameron had pushed too far.
Max lowered his sunglasses and peered over the top. “If I recall, Half Pint, you delivered the wine to the table.”
Cameron’s mouth opened and then closed. For the very first time in her whole life, Rachel witnessed Cameron’s bewilderment. Rachel waited a few more seconds to speak, just to be sure Cameron wouldn’t recoup and fire back with double artillery.
“So, someone in that room laced my drink.”
Max pushed his glasses back into place. “Afraid so. Diablo PD is in the process of interviewing each guest.”
Cameron cleared her throat. “Why Rachel? After all, every single person in that room knew Hawke was her escort.”
Hawke gave Rachel a weak smile. “We don’t know for sure Rachel was the target.”
Rachel’s pulse skittered. “This almost sounds ridiculous. Whoever planned this didn’t put a lot of thought into it. I mean, what did they expect to accomplish with Rohypnol? At the very most, one of us would have passed out. Then what? They still would’ve had to drag us out. They couldn’t have done that without being seen.”
“Unless they managed to get either of you alone,” Max suggested.
“Hawke is never alone,” Rachel countered. “Even I know that.”
Max shrugged. “Criminals are either really, really smart or really, really stupid.”
“I only left the table two times, once to go the ladies room with Cameron and when Hawke and I went out on the balcony.”
“Really?” Cameron’s eyes sparkled. “What was on the balcony?”
“I needed air. Monica made it a point to stop by our table.”
Cameron glanced at Max. “Is she on the list?”
Max shrugged. “The Chief of Police ruled her out.”
Cameron snorted. “Of course he did. They’re sleeping together.”
Max didn’t appear convinced. “She slept in Huntington’s suite last night.”
Cameron turned back to Rachel. “Told ya.” She then re-focused on Max. “As you can see, Monica is quite active in the community.”
“What about the bartender?” Rachel asked.
Max shook his head. “Claims he didn’t do it and no one asked him to. Besides, he had no way to know how the wine glasses were distributed at the table.”
Rachel drew a deep breath then exhaled. “So what now?”
“We wait for the police report. In the meantime, just be aware of what’s going on around you.”
Cameron didn’t seem convinced. “Should she be alone?”
A grin finally split Max’s lips. “Hawke won’t leave her alone. And where he goes, I go.”
“Enough.” Rachel frowned at the irritated tone in Hawke’s voice. He glanced at Max and then back at her. “Rachel, we need to talk.”
Cameron stood and dropped her sketch book and pencils into her suitcase of a purse. “That’s my cue to leave. Besides, I have a lunch date.”
“Sean?” Rachel asked.
Cameron nodded.
“Max can take you with him.” Hawke stood and helped Rachel from the sofa. “He’s going to the studio.”
Cameron slid a pair of sunglasses over her eyes. “Fabulous.”
Max grunted and stood from the couch. “There’s not a step ladder on the Suburban.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Cameron chided. “I’m sure your big caveman self can give me a boost.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Max shook his head and followed the stick of golden dynamite as she burst through the front door of the studio. As usual, her thick shiny curls bounced off her shoulders and tiny gold bells jingled around her ankle with each step.
Three steps from the door leading into the recording area, he maneuvered around her to block her path. “Hold up, Tinkerbell.”
She placed her hands on her hips and peered at him over her sunglasses. “Must you always irritate me?”
“It’s my job.”
“Well, Hercules, let me through; Sean expects me.”
Max shifted his weight and folded both arms across his chest. The lack of noise from inside the studio told him Pirelli might expect her, but probably not now.
“Only authorized personnel are allowed back there.”
“Look, Aladdin.” She paused long enough for a trademark eye roll. “Don’t expect me to rub your lamp.”
He smirked. “You know that would make my day.” Except she still wouldn’t get past him. “If you promise to stay right here, Goldilocks, I’ll go tell Grandma you’re here.”
“Whatever.” She plopped down in a chair.
Max stomped through the private entrance, didn’t bother to knock, and shouldered his way through the first closed door. Just as he suspected, Pirelli was just about to bang something other than his drum.
Max cleared his throat. The blonde straddling Pirelli’s lap gasped softly and pulled her blouse closed.
Irritated, Max kept his tone low. “Pirelli, you have a visitor in the lobby who claims she’s expected.”
“Shit.” Pirelli gave the woman a quick peck on the lips. “Just give me ten minutes, Max.”
Max jerked his head at Pirelli’s current distraction. “What about Barbie?”
“Could you—”
”No.” Max walked to the door. “I’m only here because Hawke would kill me if I didn’t do something about this.”
Max slammed the door behind him and sauntered down the hallway, back into battle. Ten minutes alone with her would be an eternity. Mentally, he wielded his sword and re-entered the lobby.
He propped himself back against the wall. “Ten minutes, Dollface.”
“Ten minutes?” she scoffed. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Keep me company.”
“That thought just warms my heart,” she mumbled.
Max frowned at her statement, pissed off at the whole situation. He took a deep breath and forced himself not to speak. It wouldn’t warm her heart much to know what was going on behind closed doors. She obviously had no idea what kind of man she’d chosen in Pirelli.
“Why are you still here anyway, McGruff?” She imitated his stance by folding her arms across her chest and tapping one foot. “Shouldn’t you be with Hawke?”
“You heard Hawke. He needed some time with Rachel.”
She squinted and cocked her head. “So you get to run interference?”
“Something like that,” he muttered.
“Don’t you ever get time off?”
“Yes.”
“When?” she chided. “You’re always on duty when I’m around.”
“I’m in charge of pest control.”
“I’m not a pest,” she said lightly. “It’s not my fault you just happen to be the same places I am.”
Max swallowed a curse. She was a pest, a tiny mosquito who constantly buzzed in his ear. Asleep or awake, her irritating persistence annoyed him. If he thought he could catch her, he’d put a stop
to it. And he knew just the place to swat her.
He glanced at his watch. “Okay, Princess, go on back.”
“Finally.” She tossed her head back and pranced through the doorway. “One of these days, Zeus, you’re going to listen to me.”
Max watched her sway down the hallway, oblivious to how much heartache she’d avoided. Someone really needed to teach Pirelli a lesson. He shrugged. Hell, maybe they’d all get lucky and she’d do it. He had a feeling that once she pierced Pirelli with the poisonous barbs of her tongue, he would run for cover. Max chuckled under his breath, his mood lightened by that thought.
***
Rachel heard the front door snap shut then gave Hawke a glance over her shoulder. The moment their gazes locked she knew talking was the furthest thing from his mind. She nearly burst into flames at the look on his face.
Her nipples tightened beneath her blouse. Common sense told her to run. Wild, wanton desire kept her there. Ready, willing and wet.
As if he sensed her silent invitation, Hawke closed the distance between them and locked his arms around her waist. His lips found the curve of her neck and he placed several tiny kisses upward until his whisper tickled her ear. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”
Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting the urge to tear off her clothing and grind herself against him. Desperate to feel the hardness of his body, she reached between them, pulled his t-shirt from the band of his jeans, and slid her hands underneath. Her fingertips danced along the smooth, contoured surface of his skin, tracing each and every muscle, and committed them to memory.
“Oh baby,” Hawke whispered, “your touch makes me weak.”
She released a soft moan when he pressed himself closer, his jeans now strained beneath the zipper. His erection jumped against her stomach. Her heart pounded like jungle drums. His hands left the curve of her hips and slid to her backside, kneading each rounded cheek with a palm. A familiar hum returned to the vee of her legs.
Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard her conscious clear its throat. Rachel groaned. Oh shut up already! And to prove her point, she lifted one leg and draped it across Hawke’s hip. With his erection now tucked between her legs, there was no way she would even consider denying how much she wanted him.
Hawke moved one hand from her backside and slid up the smooth skin of her leg and under her skirt. His fingers caressed the heated surface of her thigh until his fingers grazed the edge of her panties.
“Should I touch?” His whispered tease sent her head spinning as she nodded her consent.
He touched the wet panel of her panties and growled deep in his throat. She thrust her hips toward him. He answered by drawing patterns of heated ecstasy on the silk between her legs. Her head fell back on her shoulders and she whimpered his name.
“Tell me, baby,” he urged.
“More,” she moaned.
He responded by lifting one edge of the silken barrier and wiggling his fingers underneath. Sensation jerked along her nerve endings as he moved over her tender flesh.
Rachel’s mind spun even faster as his fingers played her like a fine instrument. Suddenly, fear and hesitance took a back seat to deep, lust-powered desire. Desire so strong and out of control that even intelligence couldn’t harness it. For half a second, Rachel searched her brain for even an ounce of logic to save her. And just as she suspected, logic evaporated into thin air.
Arousal pounded between his thighs as Hawke caressed the slippery flesh beneath his fingers and hoped to God she wouldn’t feel the tremble in his touch. He was doing his best to go slow, take his time, let her see how amazing they were together. But he sorely underestimated how damn responsive she would be. The heat from her body scalded him, the touch of her lips branded him, and those little tiny noises she made dared him. Dared him to rip the skirt from her waist and bury his lips between her legs. Dared him to wrap his tongue around her core and love her until she screamed for mercy.
He placed his lips against her forehead in an attempt to keep his very fragile control. He really needed to stop her. She deserved to know the truth before things got even more complicated. But when she reached between them and coaxed his cock from the top of his boxers, all hell broke loose. She wrapped her slender fingers around his length and pulled. All he could do was thrust.
His lips left her forehead and found the valley of cleavage. Her creamy smooth skin tasted like peaches and sunshine, a lethal combination at this point in time. If he were a vampire, he would’ve pierced her skin to fill his own body with her taste.
Her next long, slow tug on his cock caused his knees to buckle and he fought the primal urge to throw her to the floor and ravish her. Man enough to admit he didn’t have the stamina to keep them both upright in his current condition, he attempted to regain control.
Against his will, he lifted his lips from her skin and slipped his fingers from the heat of her body. His own body cursed the loss of her touch as he eased her hand from his pants and placed it against his chest. So far so good. Now if he could just keep it together long enough to lay her on the floor, they would be in business. And then she raised her head and gave him a smile that could make a grown man whimper. A dazed, sexy, do-me smile. Oh. Hell.
Hawke squeezed her body flush against his, wrapped his arms around her, and lowered her to the carpet. Her blouse now lay wide open, showcasing the white lace cups of her bra, the fabric barely wide enough to cover each nipple. He released a rough breath and reached down to lower his zipper to the end of the tract. He wouldn’t have thought it possible but the savage beast between his legs stretched another painful inch.
“Hawke?”
He lifted his gaze to hers and heat sizzled between the them. “What, baby?”
“What are you waiting for?”
Hawke paused one whole heartbeat. What the hell was he waiting for? Normally he didn’t hesitate, he knew exactly what he wanted and took it. With finesse, of course. But this time guilt nudged him. No doubt, he wanted this woman with every fiber of his being but why? Suddenly, this seduction wasn’t part of the extraction. She was more than a mark; his heart would back up that admission. Yet, Diego was closing in and Hawke had no choice other than to do everything in his power to stop him.
He ignored his conscience and bent to kiss the rounded tops of her breasts. “Absolutely nothing.”
She wound her fingers through his hair and urged him closer. “Thank God,” she murmured.
Encouraged by her reaction, he ran his tongue under the lacey edge of one side of her bra, taking care to swipe the peak of her nipple in the process. She whimpered and arched her back to push the sensitive flesh closer to his tongue. He closed his lips around the pebbled peak. Her fingers tightened around the strands of his hair. His erection pulsed against her hip.
Sweat droplets danced on his forehead and Hawke once again severely questioned his motive. Although Rachel’s body responded to his touch with a vengeance, he knew she would never allow this to happen without trusting him. By nature, she was cautious. Hell, throw a few Ruffies in the mix and she really had major trust issues. But, the taste of her made him an addict desperate for a fix.
Hawke raised himself to his knees, his lips still wrapped around the tender nub of her breast, and then moved to straddle her. With one last swirl of his tongue, he released her nipple and gazed into her face. Her eyes flickered open and flames sprung forward and lured him in. His heartbeat quickened in realization that ecstasy was just inches way.
He lowered his hands to slide his pants over his hips when she laid a hand on his forearm. “I have to get that.”
He frowned and then realized the telephone was ringing. She rolled from beneath him and reached for the phone beside the sofa.
Hawke listened, trying desperately to keep her soft voice from tempting him to yank the phone line out of the wall.
“I’ll be right there. Thank you.”
She hung up and turned to face him. “Can we take a time o
ut? I promise it won’t be long.”
He clenched his jaw to keep from cursing. “Sure.”
“I need to run to the office to pick up a delivery.”
As hard as he tried, he couldn’t throttle the desperation in his voice. “Now?”
She gave a small nod. “It’s important.”
Hawke released a heavy sigh and reached to button his pants. Damn terrorist. “Okay, but when we get back here, the phone doesn’t exist.”
“You’re going with me?”
“Of course.”
“Can you do that?”
He snickered. “I’ll probably be okay in your car, Rachel.”
“What about photographers?”
“Your windows are tinted.”
“And Max?”
“I’ll call on the way. He can meet us there.”
Hawke glanced at his watch ten minutes later when they finally pulled under the covered parking area outside the building that housed Newberry and Tremaine.
Rachel parked in her designated space and turned to face him. “Where’s Max?”
Hawke grinned and gestured with his head at the burly figure standing beside the driver’s side of the car.
“That was quick,” Rachel mumbled as Max opened her door. “Thank you.”
Max gave a silent nod as they left the shadows of the parking garage behind and headed for the entrance.
Stifling hot rays of sunshine reflected off the windows of the skyscraper and into Hawk’s face, penetrating the tint of his sunglasses and causing momentary blindness. He blinked several times in an attempt to clear the polka dots from his vision. He glanced around the parking lot, suddenly suspicious of the silence. A lone bird chirped in the distance. A red-hot chill climbed his spine and adrenaline boiled his blood just as a loud pop broke the stillness.
He hurled himself at Rachel and hit the pavement.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tucked in a tight spot between two parked cars, Hawke rolled off Rachel and pulled her to a sitting position. “You okay?”
