Falling Into You

by Smith, Maureen

  But it was the tall, broad-shouldered man standing before the aquarium who caught and held Rebecca’s attention.

  As he turned slowly to face her, she felt a jolt of recognition that made her lips part in surprise.

  She couldn’t believe it.

  The customer who’d summoned her to the Platinum Suite was none other than the sexy stranger who’d been driving her crazy all night.

  Chapter

  2

  Seeing her shocked expression, the man smiled—a slow, wicked smile that made Rebecca’s toes curl.

  “Expecting someone else?” he drawled.

  Rebecca shook her head, stepping further into the room. The door closed behind her, sealing her fate. She swallowed hard, shoving aside the unsettling thought.

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she answered coolly, “because I’m not in the habit of meeting strange men alone in this room—or anywhere else, for that matter.”

  He chuckled softly. “Like I said earlier. Never say never, Rebecca.”

  She didn’t care for the familiarity in his tone. Her chin lifted. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr.—”

  “Gray,” he supplied. “Vince Gray.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Gray, I’m not a dancer at this club. If you wanted private entertainment, any one of the girls would have been happy to accommodate you. Giselle, for example, is quite popular with—”

  Vince shook his head slowly. “I didn’t want Giselle,” he said huskily. “I wanted you.”

  His words sent a shaft of heat coursing through Rebecca.

  Before she could regain the power of speech, he continued, “And I’m not interested in a lap dance, Rebecca. I’ve had my fill for one night.”

  He walked toward her with a controlled, powerful stride. It was only when he’d reached her that Rebecca realized just how tall he was, at least six four. He towered over her even in the stiletto heels she wore. He looked darkly handsome in a well-cut blazer, pleated charcoal trousers and a snowy white shirt open to the strong column of his throat. Despite the tastefulness of his clothing, Rebecca had the feeling Vince Gray would be equally arresting in battered blue jeans and a sweatshirt with the sleeves torn off. He exuded the sort of raw animal magnetism that made him nearly impossible to resist.

  Rebecca took an unconscious step backward, her pulse hammering. Hard as it might be, she would resist.

  “What do you want, Mr. Gray?”

  His eyes searched her face. “For starters,” he murmured, “I want you to call me Vince. And what I also want, Rebecca, is for you to have a drink with me.”

  She shook her head. “We’re not supposed to drink on the job.”

  “You’ve worked hard all night. You deserve to relax, unwind a little.” When she hesitated, he added with a conspiratorial wink, “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

  Rebecca couldn’t help chuckling. “I’m okay, really. But if you’d like, I’d be more than happy to fix you a drink. Another whiskey?” she asked as she started toward the bar, as much to be hospitable as to place some much-needed distance between them.

  Vince caught her arm to halt her retreat. His hand was warm, big and strong, his touch sending hot currents through her body. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine. Why don’t we sit down?” he suggested, gently redirecting her toward the seating area with a hand on her back that turned her bones to liquid.

  As they sat down on the plush sectional, Rebecca wondered how on earth she was supposed to spend the next twenty minutes with a complete stranger who wreaked such havoc on her senses. It wasn’t fair. There ought to be laws against unleashing men like Vince Gray on the female populace.

  He’d sat too close to her, so close she could smell him, soap and an intoxicating scent that was uniquely male. She could feel his heat and his vitality, and it shook her. She resisted the temptation to scoot a few inches away from him. No point in letting him know how much he affected her, right?

  She strove for aloofness. “So tell me, Vince. Do you make a habit of cruising strip joints to pick up waitresses?”

  He laughed, and damn if it wasn’t the sexiest sound she’d ever heard in her life. His hot, bold gaze met hers. “I only ‘pick up’ the ones who take my breath away,” he drawled, “and you’re the only one who’s ever done that.”

  His words sent a thrill of pleasure through Rebecca, which she squelched at once. The man was obviously a shameless womanizer. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up doing something really stupid.

  “I was hoping you would come,” Vince said huskily.

  Rebecca felt a shiver of warmth puddle in her groin. She knew what he was referring to. But when spoken in that deep, dark voice of his, anything he said took on a sexual connotation. And considering how sinfully gorgeous he was, it was only natural for her mind to wander to forbidden territory. God, but he had the most penetrating eyes she’d ever seen. And those lips. They looked like the lips of a man who knew his way around a woman’s—

  Dragging her mind back to the conversation, Rebecca murmured, “I didn’t really have much of a choice about meeting you here.”

  Vince looked vaguely amused. “I find that hard to believe. Something tells me you’re a woman who makes her own choices and dares anyone to defy her.” Those probing eyes narrowed on hers with an intuitiveness that unnerved her. “What are you hiding behind that mask, Rebecca?”

  She frowned. “I’m not hiding anything. I wore it for Halloween—all of the waitresses are wearing masks, in case you hadn’t noticed. It’s an annual tradition.”

  He flicked his wrist to glance at the watch peeking from beneath the white cuff of his shirt. “It’s after midnight. Halloween is officially over.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “So take off the mask.” When she hesitated, he softly cajoled, “I want to see you. All of you.”

  Heat rushed into her belly as a mental image of herself standing naked before him flashed through her mind. Remembering her erotic fantasy, she blushed, and was glad he couldn’t detect it. No way was she parting with the mask.

  “I’ll take it off when my shift ends,” she told him firmly.

  He smiled indolently. “Ah, a woman of mystery. I love a good mystery.”

  Rebecca cleared her throat and crossed her legs, then wished she hadn’t as Vince’s heavy-lidded gaze followed the gesture and lingered on the curve of her thighs. She tugged discreetly at the abbreviated length of her shorts. She would have given anything for a pair of pants, or a floor-length muumuu.

  “What do you do for a living, Vince?” she blurted, eager to divert his attention from her exposed body parts.

  He leaned back, lazily spreading his arms over the back of the overstuffed cushions behind him. “I’m an investment broker.”

  “Really?” That surprised her. A man like Vince Gray seemed too edgy, too dangerous, to be confined to such a tame profession. But then again, what did she really know about him? Zilch, obviously.

  “Do you enjoy your work?”

  “Sure. It pays the bills.”

  Rebecca grinned wryly. “Pays for a few extras, too,” she pointed out, gesturing around the luxurious room. “Only ballers can afford the Platinum Suite.”

  Vince chuckled, idly stroking his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he gazed at her. “So what about you, Rebecca? Is this your full-time gig?”

  “Not exactly. I’m also a student.”

  “Is that right? What are you majoring in?”

  “Women’s studies.”

  That sensuous mouth curved in a lazy grin. “We have something in common, then. I enjoy studying women as well.”

  Rebecca felt the whisper of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Ah, but somehow I suspect my studies are a bit more, shall we say, research-driven.”

  “I assure you,” Vince said, his eyes glinting wickedly, “I conduct plenty of research on my subjects. But what I enjoy even more than the research is actually testing my theories in a
real environment. On willing participants, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “For instance, I like to explore chemistry between men and women, to find out what attracts members of the opposite sex to one another.” The slow, wolfish smile he gave Rebecca made her think of a predator intent on cornering its prey.

  Her pulse thudded. “Researchers have performed a vast number of studies on that topic,” she managed weakly.

  “I know.” His hooded gaze drifted to her mouth. “But I’m one who likes to test-drive my own vehicles.”

  At that, Rebecca uncrossed her legs and stood. She didn’t need to see sharp, bared fangs to recognize imminent danger. “It’s time for me to get back to work. If you’ll excuse me—”

  Vince unfolded his long body from the sofa with the fluid grace of a panther. Before she could take another step, he was in front of her, blocking her path to the door. His dark eyes smoldered in the soft glow of the room.

  “I want to kiss you, Rebecca,” he said huskily. “It’s all I’ve thought about since you showed up at my table to take my order. You have the most incredible mouth I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been driving myself crazy wondering what it’d feel like against my own.”

  Her knees almost gave out. The look in his eyes and the provocative things he said were nearly her undoing.

  Shaken, she stared up at him. “This isn’t a good idea. We’re not supposed to get…intimate with customers.”

  “No one has to know.” He leaned closer, his warm breath fanning her cheek and making her shiver. “Just one kiss,” he whispered against her mouth. “A short one. No longer than ten seconds, I promise.”

  Rebecca gave a tiny nod as the last of her resistance melted away, and then his lips touched hers. She went still, holding her breath as her temperature spiked under the sudden onslaught of sensation. Vince’s mouth was soft and warm, gliding silkily over hers as his hand lifted and sank deep into her hair. When he touched her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, she responded by opening her mouth.

  His tongue slid inside, hot and tantalizing, and desire shot like a lightning bolt through her body. His fingers tightened in her hair, tilting her head backward as he deepened the kiss. His mouth moved over hers, their tongues tangling in an erotic little mating dance. He drew her bottom lip between his teeth and suckled, making her pussy throb with need.

  Moaning softly, she pressed against the muscled hardness of his chest, wanting to get as close to him as possible. He smelled so good and tasted so damn delicious that she couldn’t get enough. It was like her fantasy, only better.

  When his hand crept to her mask and slowly began to remove it, sanity returned like a bucketful of ice water to her face. Rebecca pushed her hand between them and broke free, breathing hard.

  Vince gazed at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured lazily. “That was a little longer than ten seconds. Math was never my strong suit.”

  “I have to go,” Rebecca said in a breathless rush.

  Before he could utter another word, she turned and fled from the room, hurrying past the startled bodyguard posted outside the door. Paulie followed on her heels as she flew down the stairs and headed straight for the locker room to retrieve her belongings. Thankfully, no other waitresses were around to question her disheveled appearance, and when she reemerged a few minutes later, Paulie was nowhere to be found.

  On her way out, she encountered Bruno coming from his office located in the rear of the building.

  He smiled when he saw her. “Hey, Edmonds—”

  “I’m leaving, Bruno,” she told him without breaking stride.

  He frowned. “But your shift doesn’t end for another—”

  “Good night, Bruno.” She pushed open a glass door and exited the building without so much as a backward glance.

  Chapter

  3

  Standing in the shadows of a deserted parking lot on the other side of town, Vince McCall smoked his first cigarette in six years. With each toke of nicotine, his frustration grew until it simmered like the tiny embers bristling at his feet.

  He had no business smoking. His father had chain-smoked himself into an early grave, dying of lung cancer at the age of forty-seven. After that, Vince had sworn to himself and everyone else—God, mother and priest—that he wouldn’t end up like his old man.

  At the rate he was going, he’d be on his third pack by dawn.

  Shaking his head in disgust, Vince took a long pull on his cigarette and sent a puff of smoke into the wind. The chilly night air had done nothing to cool his raging body temperature, which hadn’t returned to normal since he left The Sultan’s Gentlemen’s Club thirty minutes ago. But an exotic dancer wasn’t responsible for the lust pounding through his body and boiling his blood.

  No, he could thank Rebecca No-Last-Name for that.

  With a surly grin, Vince let his mind wander back to the moment when he’d first laid eyes on the sexy, mysterious waitress. He’d noticed her even before she came to his table, as she was waiting on other customers. The sight of her sweet, curvy body poured into scraps of black leather had made him instantly hard. When she leaned down to hear a customer over the loud music, Vince got an eyeful of a delectably round ass that nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. Her leather shorts barely covered the swell of her butt cheeks, and the stiletto pumps she wore accentuated long, shapely legs with killer calves.

  His mind had been instantly filled with carnal images of those legs wrapped around a pole as she swung around seductively, hips undulating to the sensual music. Then, holding Vince’s riveted gaze, she spread her legs into a perfect V and slowly began sliding down the pole…landing right on his hard, waiting dick.

  He’d still been enjoying the wicked fantasy when the waitress suddenly began walking in his direction. When she reached Vince’s table and introduced herself, he’d thought the Fates were smiling down on him—or playing a cruel joke designed to drive him completely out of his mind.

  Even with the lace mask concealing most of her face, he could tell that she was beautiful. Her mouth was lush and incredibly sexy, curving in a smile that took his breath away. Her high, round breasts—though not as large as he usually preferred—spilled just enough from the top of her bustier to make his mouth water. Her jet-black hair was cut in long layers that skimmed her smooth bare shoulders.

  From that moment on, Vince’s single-minded focus had been finding a way to get her alone and naked. If not naked, then at least unmasked.

  The fact that her identity remained a mystery to him made her all the more alluring, and made him more impatient—hell, desperate—to see her again. And the next time he saw her, he wouldn’t let her get away so easily. He fully intended to finish what they’d started tonight.

  A brisk breeze carrying the crisp scent of fall leaves penetrated the cotton fabric of his shirt to reach his heated skin.

  He closed his eyes and turned his face up to the starry night, welcoming the chill. If the natural elements didn’t cool his libido, his next resort was a cold shower.

  A damn cold shower.

  He opened his eyes as a pair of approaching headlights cut through the darkness. He straightened slowly from his Durango as a black SUV pulled up beside his. The door opened, and Detective Frank Sciorra aka Paul Colangelo stepped out and walked around to where Vince stood waiting.

  Without a word, the burly Italian passed him the nine-millimeter Glock he’d “confiscated” from him earlier that evening when Vince arrived at the club.

  “Thanks,” Vince muttered, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as he cocked open the magazine to check the ammo.

  Frank gave a derisive snort. “What? You think I put a cap in someone on my way over here?”

  “With you, Frankie, anything’s possible.” Satisfied that no bullets were missing from the weapon, Vince returned the Glock to his hip holster, then drew a deep lungful of nicotine. He watched Frank through twin curls of smoke released through his nos
trils. “No problems getting away?”

  “None whatsoever. Told him I was taking one of the girls home to make sure she didn’t get hassled by her prick of a boyfriend.” He nodded toward the half-smoked cigarette in Vince’s hand. “Rough night?”

  Vince chuckled humorlessly. “You wouldn’t believe.”

  Everyone in the Baltimore Police Department knew Detective Vince McCall’s long and bitter history with nicotine. Every year he commemorated the anniversary of his father’s death by buying a pack of Marlboros—the brand his father had smoked religiously—then lighting a match to the cigarettes and watching them slowly burn. It was a private ritual no one questioned or interfered with. Cops, like anyone else, had demons that needed exorcising. Vince’s comrades respected his right to exorcise his demons any damn way he saw fit.

  Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten around to torching the last pack of Marlboros yet, hence the cigarettes were readily available when temptation came calling. Who knew that a scantily-clad waitress in a strip club would be the catalyst that finally pushed him over the edge?

  Frank frowned. “By the way, what’d you do to Edmonds?”

  Vince gave him a blank look. “Edmonds?”

  “Rebecca, the waitress. What’d you do to her, man? She came flying out of the room like a bat outta hell. By the time I went back up there to ask you what had happened, you’d already left.”

  Rebecca Edmonds. Vince silently mulled over the name, even as he answered, “I didn’t do anything to her.”

  Not yet, anyway.

  “Well, you’d better not,” Frank advised. “That’s Rossi’s favorite waitress. He’s got a thing for her.”

  That piqued Vince’s interest. “Did he tell you that?”

  “He doesn’t have to. I can tell by the way he looks at her when he thinks no one else is watching. He lets her get away with shit that no one else can. Not that she pulls any crap, mind you, but if she wanted to, she could. The point is, if you wanna get in good with Rossi, leave his woman alone.”