Falling Into You

by Smith, Maureen

  Vince shook his head, taking a slow drag on his cigarette. “If that was my woman, there’s no way in hell I woulda left her alone in that room with another man. But when I asked for her, Rossi didn’t seem to mind.”

  “He’s a businessman. You’re a paying customer. He’s not gonna mess with that. Money talks. And speaking of money, why’d you have to blow half a grand on the Platinum Suite? That wasn’t in the budget, man. The brass ain’t gonna be too happy about that.”

  “I know,” Vince blithely agreed. “But it was worth every damn cent.”

  Frank groaned. “Just because you can have any woman you want doesn’t mean you should, McCall. And I’m telling you again—stay away from Edmonds. She’s a sweet girl, and really smart. She’s even working on her Ph.D.”

  Vince grinned. “Definitely too good for me.”

  “Damn straight she is. If you insist on getting laid, pick any of the other girls. They were checking you out the minute you walked through the door. Any one of ’em would do you in a heartbeat, and you know it. I’ve heard that Giselle gives the best head—”

  Vince chuckled dryly. “That’s the second time someone’s tried to push Giselle off on me. Poor girl—they must keep her mighty busy. No, thanks. I’m sure she’s a very talented woman, but I like my meat a little fresher.”

  Frank heaved a resigned sigh. “And it doesn’t get any ‘fresher’ than Rebecca. She’s a beautiful woman. You know, she gets hit on all the time, but she’s never let it get to her before.” He glared pointedly at Vince. “Until tonight.”

  “I told you, man, I didn’t do anything to her.” Not as much as he would’ve liked to, anyway. Vince wondered how far things would have gone if he hadn’t tried to remove Rebecca’s mask. He grew hard just thinking about it.

  “Look,” he said gruffly, “if I’m supposed to be some high-rolling investment broker with cash to burn, I have to play the part convincingly. Dropping half a grand on the Platinum Suite was expected of me. How am I supposed to convince Rossi to go into business with me if I’m tight-fisted with my money?”

  “Yeah, I hear what you’re saying,” Frank grumbled. “Just don’t get carried away, that’s all. They’ve got us on a tight budget, and I’d hate to get yanked off this case just because you blew taxpayer dollars on the Platinum Suite. Next time you’re at the club, do us both a favor and settle for one or two lap dances. At forty bucks a pop, that shouldn’t break the bank.”

  “Yes, sir,” Vince said with a mock salute.

  Despite his cavalier tone, Vince knew better than anyone how important it was for them to play by the book on this case. The Baltimore Police Department, in conjunction with the local FBI division, had assembled a task force to investigate the financial dealings of Bruno Rossi, who was suspected of masterminding a lucrative money laundering operation. But five years and nine investigations later, the authorities still hadn’t been able to prove Rossi’s guilt. Sending two Baltimore police detectives undercover to infiltrate the club owner’s organization was the government’s latest—and perhaps final—attempt to snare the man who’d become, in many ways, as elusive as John Gotti had once been. In fact, some members of the local law enforcement community had already dubbed Rossi the new “Teflon Don.”

  Vince didn’t like being thwarted by criminals who thought they were untouchable. He was determined to succeed where others had failed in taking down Rossi. But he couldn’t afford any distractions, and Rebecca Edmonds, with her sweet lips and sexy ass body, was the grand dame of distractions. The sooner he could have her, the sooner he could get her out of his system.

  Or so he told himself.

  “Look, I gotta head back before Rossi starts getting suspicious,” Frank announced, backing toward his truck with his shoulders hunched against the chill. For such a big tough guy, Frank Sciorra had always been a punk where cold weather was concerned.

  “See ya tomorrow night, Frankie,” Vince said.

  He watched as the black SUV rolled out of the parking lot and disappeared down the street before he started toward his Durango. Pausing at the door, he took a long pull on his cigarette and gazed at the lights from the Inner Harbor twinkling in the distance.

  All he needed was one night alone with Rebecca Edmonds. One night to bury himself deep inside her wet heat, to experience her luscious body writhing beneath his, to feel her nails digging into his back as they rocked through one mind-blowing orgasm after another.

  One night, he told himself, and then he could turn his attention to other, more pressing matters.

  Like taking down Bruno Rossi.

  Chapter

  4

  Rebecca lifted a cardboard box from the floor and hoisted it onto the Formica countertop of her new kitchen. Wiping a sheen of sweat from her forehead, she stood back, lips pursed, and swept a look around the sunlit room. It was smaller than the kitchen in the condo she’d just moved from, and she wasn’t too crazy about the beige linoleum floor, but at least the room had an island and modern oak cabinets. The rest of the two-bedroom apartment wasn’t bad either, and at $1,500 a month, it was just what she needed at this point in her life.

  Not that she wouldn’t miss her condo in Annapolis with its lakefront views and manicured lawns. But when she’d made the decision to take a year off from teaching in order to focus on completing her dissertation, she knew she would have to make some drastic lifestyle changes. And if all went according to plan, by the same time next year, she’d be applying for a tenure-track faculty position at Johns Hopkins University, where she’d dreamed of teaching for as long as she could remember.

  As Rebecca reached for a box-cutter, twenty-two-year-old Rasheed Edmonds entered the apartment carrying a large cardboard box labeled TEXTBOOKS. He glanced over at her through the alcove in the kitchen.

  “Where do you want this?” he asked.

  “Anywhere in the living room is fine.” Rebecca smiled as her younger brother lowered the heavy box to the floor and made an exaggerated show of slumping over it in a fit of exhaustion.

  “That was the last box,” he panted. “We’re done. Finished. Finito.”

  “Are you sure?” Rebecca teased, walking out of the kitchen. “Did you check every crack and crevice of the U-Haul to make sure you guys got everything?”

  Rasheed lifted his head to give his approaching sister a wry look. “Take my word for it. The truck’s empty. Chris is locking it up right now.”

  Rebecca leaned down and planted a big, wet kiss on his forehead, grinning as he groaned in protest. “Thank you, baby boy.”

  At six foot tall, Rasheed Edmonds wasn’t quite a “baby” anymore. The chubby face he’d sported most of his life had been replaced by lean, masculine features when Rebecca wasn’t looking. Four years of working out in the campus weight center with his college buddies had given him a toned, muscular physique that drew plenty of admiring female gazes wherever he went. His caramel skin was still sun-toasted from his summer trip to Costa Rica, which had been his college graduation gift from Rebecca.

  Eight years apart, the siblings had always been close, a bond that had been further strengthened by the untimely death of their parents.

  Rebecca had just started on her master’s degree when tragedy struck, claiming the lives of Frederick and Valeria Edmonds in a boating accident while they were vacationing overseas. Rebecca had immediately dropped out of school and taken on a part-time job, in addition to her full-time one, in order to help raise her orphaned teenage brother. At her insistence, money from the insurance settlement was set aside for Rasheed’s college education—no exceptions. Although they’d received occasional assistance from distant relatives, for the most part, Rebecca and Rasheed had been on their own. Money had been tight, but somehow they’d survived, learning to depend on each other through the good and bad times.

  And in those dark, depressing years while they’d both struggled to cope with the devastating loss of their parents, there had been more bad times than good.

  When Ras
heed graduated from college with honors, Rebecca was so proud of him that she’d wept like a fool at the ceremony. Out of the many job offers he’d received, he had accepted a position with a top executive firm in D.C. and was now thinking about pursuing an MBA.

  Lost in her reverie, Rebecca didn’t notice that her brother had risen from the floor and was walking through the apartment, carefully inspecting each room.

  “Are you sure you had to move out of your apartment in Annapolis?” he asked as he returned to the living room, thick brows furrowed in a frown. “This place isn’t as big or nice as the other one.”

  Rebecca laughed. “Who says I need big or nice?”

  Her brother’s frown deepened. “It’s not about what you need. It’s about what you deserve.”

  “Aww, that’s so sweet of you, Sheed.” Reaching up, Rebecca gave his cheek an affectionate pat. “Seriously though, don’t worry about me. This apartment suits my needs just fine. The rent is more affordable, and it’s within easy walking distance of the Inner Harbor and Lexington Market, where I can buy fresh fruit every day. If you really think about it, for what I’m paying a month, this place is a steal.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Rebecca winked playfully at him. “Hey, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just move into your bachelor pad.”

  “Works for me,” chimed in Rasheed’s best friend and roommate, Chris Douglas, who had just strolled into the apartment. Short, stocky and good-looking, he flashed a megawatt grin at Rebecca. “You know you’re more than welcome to move in with us, Rebecca. Any sister of Sheed’s is a sister of mine.”

  Rasheed rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “On that note, we’d better get this truck back to U-Haul before I end up using it to shovel up all this bullshit I’m hearing.”

  Rebecca grinned. “Now, now, Rasheed. Be nice. It was very kind of Chris to give up his Saturday to help me move. Thank you, Chris. I really appreciate it.”

  He sketched a gallant bow. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

  As the boys were leaving, Rebecca heard Chris exclaim to Rasheed, “Man, your sister’s fine as hell.”

  Smiling at Rasheed’s growled warning, Rebecca closed the door behind them and surveyed the clutter before her. How could one person accumulate so much junk? she wondered, shaking her head at all the moving boxes. She definitely had her work cut out for her. But for now she was tired, thirsty and craving a hot shower. She would tackle the unpacking in the morning after a good night’s rest.

  If she got a good night’s rest.

  Rebecca frowned, remembering the way she’d spent the previous night tossing and turning, her mind filled with vivid images of Vince Gray. Two days later, she still couldn’t believe she’d let a complete stranger kiss her. He’d kissed her and, worse, she’d kissed him back—and had enjoyed every last moment of it.

  The memory of that scorching kiss and the fantasy that had preceded it were seared upon her brain, to the point where she’d been unable to think of little else since then. During the night, she’d awakened from a steamy dream to find herself moaning as she rode her fingers.

  She—who’d been too consumed with her doctoral studies over the past two years to give sex a second thought—had actually masturbated.

  It’s a sign, girlfriend, a voice chided. You’ve deprived yourself long enough. You need to get laid. And what better person to end your drought than that scrumptious hunk from the club?

  Just thinking about Vince Gray’s deep, sexy voice and heat-seeking tongue made Rebecca’s nipples get tight and tingly. She had no doubt that the man knew how to pleasure a woman, and that making love with him would be an unforgettable experience. But that was part of the problem. A guy like Vince Gray would never be satisfied with just one partner. For all Rebecca knew, he’d probably spent the following evening at another nightclub picking up women. She was willing to bet he rarely—if ever—went home alone.

  Why do you care? You’re not interested in marrying him or bearing his children. You just need him to scratch an itch for you, and then you can both go about your business.

  Rebecca frowned and shook her head at herself. Why was she entertaining these crazy thoughts about a man she’d met only once and might never see again? Assuming Vince did return to The Sultan’s, she wasn’t scheduled to work again until Tuesday. He probably wouldn’t even remember her or recognize her without her mask. By kissing her, he’d satisfied his curiosity about the mysterious woman in disguise, and that was the end of it.

  Recalling that she’d left her car unlocked while they unloaded her belongings, Rebecca headed downstairs to the parking lot. She locked the doors to her Toyota Avalon, then checked the trunk to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything else. She found a medium-size box labeled PERSONAL ITEMS and lifted it out of the car, then closed the door and made her way back toward the high-rise.

  As she neared the building entrance, a couple dressed for a night out on the town emerged and held the door open for her.

  “Thank you,” Rebecca told them, flashing a grateful smile.

  She crossed the lobby and rounded the corner to the service elevator, which the building manager had given her permission to use while she moved in. The thing was as old as the building, and so slow that Rebecca could climb the stairs to her ninth-floor apartment in less time than it would take the service elevator to get her there. She’d fare much better in the regular elevator used by everyone else. But she was tired and sweaty, and not in the mood to stop on every floor with a heavy box in her arms.

  As she was about to push the button to summon the elevator, a deep, unmistakably familiar voice asked, “Need some help?”

  Rebecca whirled around.

  And was stunned to find herself staring into the darkly handsome face of Vince Gray.

  Chapter

  5

  At the sight of Rebecca, those piercing onyx eyes that had filled her every waking thought since Halloween night widened slightly in recognition.

  Her heart thumped.

  Oh, God, she thought in a moment of sheer panic. He recognizes me. How can that be? And why did he have to catch me at my worst, wearing no makeup and a sweaty old T-shirt?

  She tried to school her features into an impassive mask, hoping that if she played dumb, he might actually think she was someone else.

  “No, thanks,” she said politely, responding to his question. “I’m fine. But thanks for asking.”

  “No problem,” he murmured, his expression giving nothing away.

  She felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe he didn’t recognize her after all. Just because he had an unforgettable face didn’t mean the whole world did.

  “Moving in?” he asked.

  She nodded wordlessly, realizing that the less she said, the less the likelihood of him recognizing her voice.

  Balancing the box on one hip, she turned away from him to push the elevator button, expecting the doors to open right away since she was the only one who’d used the service elevator that day. It should have been waiting right there for her on the lobby level.

  But it wasn’t.

  She stabbed the button again, more impatiently this time. Where was the damn thing?

  “Why don’t you use the other one?” Vince suggested, standing close enough to make her pulse accelerate. “It’d probably be much faster.”

  “It’s all right,” Rebecca muttered, keeping her profile to him. “I’ve been using this all day. It’s my last run, anyway.”

  To her surprise, Vince reached out, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently turning her face toward his. A hint of a smile played about the corners of his mouth as he gazed down at her.

  “How long are you going to pretend we’ve never met, Rebecca?” he asked huskily.

  Her knees went weak, and she let out a resigned breath before admitting sheepishly, “I was hoping you wouldn’t recognize me.”

  “Not recognize you?” Shaking his head slowly, Vince brushed the pad of his thumb across her bo
ttom lip, making her shiver. “In a million years, I could never forget this incredible mouth.”

  Just like that, cream thickened between Rebecca’s thighs.

  Vince’s eyes roamed across her face, as if he were trying to commit her features to memory.

  Feeling self-conscious, Rebecca smoothed a hand over her makeshift ponytail and moistened her lips. She shouldn’t look too bad, she reassured herself. Rasheed and Chris had done all the hard work while she’d mostly supervised.

  “You’re even more beautiful than I thought,” Vince said softly, devouring her with those bedroom eyes.

  Oh, God.

  Rebecca set the box down on the floor and sat on it before her knees gave out. This was too much. He was too much, looking hotter than any man had a right to in a black turtleneck that molded broad shoulders and a wide, muscular chest. Low-rise blue jeans clung to the corded muscles of his thighs, and he wore a pair of black boots that looked enormous.

  You know what they say about men with big feet….

  Rebecca swallowed hard and drew her gaze back up to Vince’s face. It was a long journey, he was so tall.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Do you live in this building?”

  He shook his head. “Just visiting someone.”

  “Oh?” An image of him clasped between some lucky woman’s legs flashed through Rebecca’s mind, and without realizing it she frowned. It was only after six p.m. Too early for a booty call.

  Wasn’t it?

  She’d been out of the game too long.

  “Did you have a good time with your friend?” she asked casually.

  His mouth twitched at her not-so-subtle attempt to learn the sex of the person he was visiting. “Not yet,” he drawled. “I just arrived.”

  “Oh. Well, don’t let me keep you, then.”

  He flashed a slow, lazy grin. “Believe me, Rebecca, I don’t mind being kept.”