It would be easy for him to grab the keys from her. Easy to persuade her to relinquish them in ways that did not include force. For some reason he made no move to take the keys or her…yet. “You are determined to hold me hostage?”
“For a little while. I also need to borrow your car since mine won’t be ready until tomorrow morning. I think that’s the least you can do considering what I did for you last night.”
Darin was caught between desire and fury. He wanted to shake some sense into her. He wanted to carry her to the bed and take off her clothing so they were both naked. “I find your behavior unwarranted. I’m not certain why you are even concerned over my well-being.”
She slipped the keys back into her pocket. “You know something, Scorpio, I’m not sure, either, other than you saved my life. You’re pretty darned demanding. Sexy but demanding.”
Darin took another step toward her and a sharp pain shot up from his ankle to the back of his leg, but this time it did nothing to quell his lust. “I am demanding?”
“Okay, maybe I can relate. And that’s why I’m going to help you find this Birkenfeld guy.”
The woman had taken total leave of her senses. “I will not allow it.”
“Oh, yeah, you will. If you ever want to see your clothes, money and car again.” She gestured toward the living area. “You’ll find a pot of coffee in the kitchen. Have some. Maybe then you’ll be in a better mood.” With one more direct look at his erection that had yet to calm, she pivoted on her heels and headed into the bathroom.
Darin doubted that coffee would alleviate his foul mood. He had been bested by a woman—a woman who was at least a foot shorter and one hundred pounds lighter. A woman whose tenacity both angered and excited him. Regardless, he would not accept her assistance in finding Birkenfeld. He refused to put another woman in the path of danger—even a woman who could probably wrestle a Bengal tiger with her bare hands…and bring Darin to his knees with only a kiss.
She should have known he wouldn’t remember the kiss.
That afternoon Fiona mulled it over and over on her drive back to the apartment following her classes, convinced Scorpio’s amorous behavior the night before had been a result of the pills. How nice to know that she’d had to rely on mood-altering drugs in order to seduce a man. Peg would be very disappointed.
However, Fiona had to admit that Scorpio seemed quite with it this morning, not under the influence at all when he’d shown her his stuff. And some stuff it was. It had taken all her restraint not to gasp and keel over when he crawled from the bed and dropped the sheet. At least she hadn’t dropped to her knees. But she had felt as if she’d ingested a tanker full of Mexican tequila. Had it not been for the death grip she’d maintained on her will, or the fact that he’d been wounded, she might have tackled him and forgotten all about her class. But she was too close to finishing school to let a man sidetrack her. That had been her mother’s favorite trick.
As she pulled in front of her apartment, Fiona wondered if he was still around. Scorpio struck her as being a resourceful guy, and she wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he’d fashioned a bath towel into some sort of combat gear, then set out on his own in the streets of Vegas with his feet crammed into her sneakers that would definitely be too small. He certainly wouldn’t fit into her clothes since he was so big. Every part of him.
But she had noticed he hadn’t been walking all that well, although he’d tried to hide his distress—the only thing he’d kept hidden from her. She shivered again just thinking about the picture he’d presented standing by her bed covered only by dark skin, random patches of masculine hair while sporting a challenging look and proof positive of his arousal. And if she kept thinking about that, she would never be able to look him in the face again.
Fiona could only hope that he had decided to stick around after recognizing the extent of his injuries and the logic of her offer. Funny, he hadn’t put up that much of a fight when she’d taunted him with the keys. No doubt he could have taken her down on the floor and had them in his possession in a matter of moments, despite his injuries. That might have been really, really fun. She probably wouldn’t have put up much of a fight, either, especially if he’d decided to possess her.
What a fantasy, one that she needed to forget. Scorpio was determined to go catch a bad guy, not catch a quick roll with her. Unless he changed his mind later. Maybe she might try to change it for him.
Good grief. In less than twenty-four hours, she’d gone from single celibate to single-minded femme fatale. Her mother would be so proud.
Fiona slid out of the car and pushed into the apartment to find her guest stretched out on the sofa, wearing a mint-colored terry towel around his waist and a detached expression. Even after she closed the door, he kept his eyes centered on the television, where some kind of soap opera involving a lot of heaving breasts and heavy breathing between a couple in a hot tub played out on the screen. What a novel idea, but she didn’t have a hot tub. In fact, she only had a shower.
She also had an enamored canine who had managed to take up residence at the end of the sofa, chin resting on Scorpio’s bare shin. Normally the dog would have been shaking all over from excitement when Fiona came in. Instead, Lottie had barely looked up. No surprise. Scorpio would have that effect on females of any species.
Fiona tossed the keys on the table then on afterthought, put them back in her jeans pocket. “How was your day, honey? Did you enjoy the lunch I made for you?”
Domestic goddess she was not, but it was a pretty darned good imitation.
Scorpio did not appreciate her attempt at playing happy housewife, very apparent by his scowl. “I did not eat any lunch since your hound beat me to it. I greatly underestimated her ability to climb.”
“Let me guess. You put it on the table then turned your back?”
“Yes.”
Uh-oh. “I forgot to warn you she’ll go to great lengths to steal food.”
Lottie raised her head and cocked it to one side, displaying her well-practiced Who Me? look.
“You must be starving, then,” Fiona said, hoping to make amends for her dog’s lack of manners. “We’ll have an early dinner. I’ll get it started.”
He slicked a hand over his scalp and leveled his dark gaze on her. “That will not be necessary. If you give me my clothes, I will be on my way.”
Fiona gritted her teeth to keep from shouting. “You need something to eat, otherwise you’re going to drop in your tracks.”
“In the past, I have survived without food for days at time.”
“And I’d bet you hadn’t lost a lot of blood, either.”
He fairly unfolded from the sofa and perched on the edge of the cushions. “I am feeling better.”
“Prove it.”
He grinned, taking Fiona by surprise. “How would you wish me to do that?”
Heat shot like a rocket from low in her belly, then landed on her face. “I was going to suggest you walk across the room, unless you have something else in mind.”
“I was wondering the same about you.”
Now was her chance. She could tell him exactly what was on her mind and let the chips—and the towel—fall where they may, followed by her clothes. But not yet. Not until he agreed to let her help him. She would withhold any kind of sexual suggestion and use that as an additional trump card. Like that would really entice him to hang around. She could try.
“I’ve come up with a plan, Scorpio.” Strolling to the sofa, she stood immediately before him and smiled. “Do you mind if I just keep calling you Scorpio?”
“No, I do not mind.”
“Good.” My gosh, his face was gorgeous, even this close. “Why don’t you let me show you a few places tonight?”
He kept his hands clasped tightly in his lap. “Places?”
“Bars. Places only someone without good sense or a death wish would visit.”
“What about your job?”
“I’m off on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”
<
br /> “I’ve told you I do not want to put you in danger.”
“You won’t be putting me in any danger. If we do happen to find the bad guy, then I’ll stand back and let you do your thing. Besides, people trust me. They won’t tell you anything if they think you’re law enforcement.”
“And if I do not agree to this plan? What will you do then?”
She grinned. “I think you should consider what I will do if you let me help.”
He hinted at another smile. “Prepare dinner?”
“Sure. And I’ll provide some dessert after we get back.”
His eyes darkened to extremes as he gripped her waist in his very strong, very big hands. “Your offer is tempting, but I am still concerned about your safety.”
“You shouldn’t be concerned. I can hold my own in most situations.” She sent a pointed look at the obvious bulge beneath the towel.
His expression turned serious. “After this investigation is over, I do not plan to stay.”
The old I’m-footloose-and-fancy-free speech. Fiona had heard other women discuss it, but this was a first for her. “I realize that.”
“And I will only allow you limited participation.”
“I prefer to participate to the fullest extent,” she said, hoping she sounded sultry, not silly. “Some things are best done together. Much more fun that way.”
“I was referring to the search for Birkenfeld.”
She faked an innocent look. Lottie would be so proud. “Of course. You’re the expert there. I’ll do whatever you ask me to do.”
He raised a dark brow. “Anything?”
Fiona’s heart rate picked up speed. “As long as it’s legal in most states.”
He cupped her bottom and pulled her between his parted knees. “You are comfortable with taking risks?”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“Then perhaps we should have a meal and get started when it’s dark outside.”
“Don’t you know it’s never really dark in Vegas?” Oh, but his eyes were dark. Dark and deadly to a woman who had naughty things on her mind. Secretive eyes. Seductive.
She stepped away before she lost her will to stand firm since he had yet to agree to her proposal. “Dinner will only take a few minutes. I hope you like pasta.”
He caught her wrist and pulled forward again. She had to grab his shoulders to keep from falling, although she was already falling into a sensual abyss that she didn’t want to escape. “I would like to seal our agreement with another kiss,” he said, his voice deep and enticing.
Another kiss? “You do remember last night.”
“I was not that intoxicated. At least not from the effects of the drugs.”
With one large palm, he brought her head down and kissed her with the same ardor he’d displayed the night before. Fiona wanted to lock the door, lock out the world, lock Lottie in the kitchen and stay this way indefinitely, experiencing the heat of his mouth and the skill of his tongue, the softness of his lips. She didn’t want to chase a bad guy; she wanted to be bad with this guy.
Scorpio had other ideas. He let her go and this time he wasn’t smiling. “Now bring me my clothes.”
Fiona stepped back again. “Oh, so you kissed me in exchange for your clothes?”
“I kissed you because you looked as if you wanted to be kissed.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll give them to you after dinner. I want to make sure you stay around for a while.”
“I am a man of my word, Fiona. I will adhere to our agreement, unless I suspect that you are in danger.”
She was already in danger. In danger of totally falling for this seriously sexy man. And that was a danger she couldn’t afford because she knew he wouldn’t stay.
Four
“Okay, Scorpio. This is the next stop on the Investigation Express.”
After Fiona pulled into the crowded parking lot and took a space several rows from the entrance, Darin studied the bright pink-and-green neon billboard that heralded live dancing girls and affordable drinks, as well as the depiction of a caricature cat-woman dressed in western attire. The two previous bars had been less than desirable establishments, but Darin would deem the Frisky Kitty Nightclub as the worst of the worst.
“You believe Birkenfeld would come to a place where women remove their clothing for pay?” he asked.
Fiona put the car in park. “Sure, unless he doesn’t like women.”
“He uses women. He kidnapped one and held her for ransom. Fortunately, she was rescued before he could harm her.”
Fiona hesitated, as if mulling over the information. “Let me get this straight. He’s a murderer, a baby thief, a fugitive and he kidnaps women?”
“That is correct.”
“I would classify him as too abominable to live.”
Darin was definitely in agreement. But it would not be up to him to mete out the punishment of death—unless circumstances called for it. “I will see him brought to justice. If not tonight, then soon.”
“Well, this is a good place for him to blend in. Mostly locals. No blackjack tables, but it does have a good selection of one-armed bandits.”
He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Criminals with only one arm?”
“Slot machines, Scorpio. And don’t think I don’t know you’ve seen one before.”
When Fiona tripped the lock and opened her door, Darin told her, “Perhaps you should remain here.”
She shifted to face him. “Look, Darin dear, I’m not thrilled about going in there because I’m probably going to be the only woman wearing any clothes. But I know the bartender and he’ll talk to me. So you’re just going to have to accept the fact that I’m not going to sit all night in a parking lot waiting for you.”
Once more, her resolve frustrated him. Yet he realized she had made a valid point. “Stay close to me,” he said as he opened his door and slid out. When his foot hit the graveled surface, his ankle almost buckled. He was having difficulty maintaining his balance and he suspected Fiona had noticed.
She rounded the hood, came to his side and pulled his arm over her shoulder, confirming his suspicions. “Lean on me and act like you like it.”
He did like it, very much so. “This is not necessary.”
“Yes, it is. First, we’ll appear to be a couple. Second, you won’t have to worry about falling on your cute butt.”
He stared down at her. “Cute?”
“I think it’s an appropriate adjective, but I can come up with a few more if you’d like. Later.”
Darin had been engaging in a battle to control his desire since the moment he’d met her. That battle had not subsided during dinner, but he had controlled his urges in the car even though Fiona had dressed in a black leather skirt that revealed her shapely legs and a tight sleeveless white blouse that enhanced her breasts. Yet if she kept making promises about what would transpire later, he would be forced to close his jacket in order to hide his sinful musings.
“I hate wearing skirts and heels,” Fiona muttered as they crossed the lot.
Darin, on the other hand, greatly appreciated her attire. “They why did you choose to wear them?”
“I’m trying to look like a woman enjoying a night on the town. I’m afraid I look like a fish out of water, or someone who’s trying to earn a few bucks turning tricks.” She glanced at him. “But you don’t look like a guy who’d have to pay for it.”
She looked like a wild fantasy with her red hair curling about her face. “I suppose I should be flattered.”
“You definitely should.”
Fiona pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside first, then once more wrapped her arm around his waist. He kept his arm draped over her shoulder, trying to ignore the pain in his thigh and ankle resulting from the distance they’d had to travel to reach the entry. How would he give chase if he did find Birkenfeld? He only had to get close enough to take a shot. His hand automatically brushed across the holster concealed by his jacket, finding so
me comfort in knowing he had the means to protect himself, and Fiona, should they encounter the doctor.
A fog of smoke hung over the bar, and loud music boomed from speakers set out in the room. A woman wearing only a silver G-string whirled around a pole rising from the middle of a stage while several men whistled and called out to her, her expression almost impassive.
Darin had seen it before, a face that showed the signs of a difficult life and a blank demeanor to mask all emotions, as if she had tuned everyone and everything out in order to get through the routine. Darin could relate. Many times he’d gone through the motions of living to block out the pain. Admittedly he was not immune to her seductive moves, yet his desire was not for this woman but the one at his side now working her way through hordes of men taking in the spectacle. Several leered at Fiona, angering Darin. Under most circumstances, he would risk starting a brawl to defend her honor. But he could not risk drawing attention to them if Birkenfeld happened to be on the premises, something he greatly doubted.
Fiona guided him to the bar where they took seats on the stools, side by side. She smiled as if she had entered the Taj Mahal, not a tavern. Where Darin had become jaded with life, Fiona reveled in it. Her passion for living showed in every move she made, in every word, even those that didn’t please him. She was eight years his junior, but after the cruelty he’d seen, Darin felt as if they were separated by decades. Although his initial attraction to her involved pure primal lust, her optimism drew him now, on a deeper level. If only he could be so sanguine.
“Lookin’ good tonight, Fiona,” a man with myriad tattoos covering much of his massive arms called out from behind the bar. He moved in front of Fiona to kiss her cheek, and she responded with a deeper smile and a friendly, “You’re looking fine tonight, too, Mort.”
The Millionaires’ Club: Ryan, Alex & Darin Page 31
