by Desiree Holt
“As I said before, I’m putting Chad Sinclair on the list.” He typed his name into his tablet he’d brought to the table with him. “He’s a good place to start.”
“Chad?” He heard the disbelief in her voice. “I already told you. I thought about him at the beginning, but I have the feeling Chad doesn’t even like me. Why would he go to all this trouble?”
“Oh, he likes you alright.” Rafe snorted. “He wasn’t making noise about tomorrow night just because he lost his party date.”
Tyler chewed a bite of her sandwich and swallowed. “Still…”
“Remember the message that said he could protect you? He might be using this as a means to drive you into his arms.”
“Whatever.” She flicked her fingers in the air in a dismissive gesture. “I just don’t think he’d waste that much time on me but you’re right. He needs to be on the list.”
“Let’s talk about your ex.” Rafe glanced at her. “Nate Something, right?”
“Broder. But we’ve been divorced for some time. I’m sure he’s had a slew of women since then.”
“You never know. Has he been in contact with you?”
Tyler gave a heavy sigh. “Well, yes. I told you. He’s had a campaign of flowers and candy going, which I throw out as fast as I get them.”
“Then he’s not giving up,” Rafe commented. “He goes on the list, too.” He typed Nate’s name into the tablet.
She pulled some other names out of her memory, even though she considered them to be long shots. Actually it turned out she didn’t date so much as hang out with people. And those people most frequently moved on to someone else when she ended it. If she was to be believed, the men she met in the bars where she hung out were barely pit stops. She didn’t even remember most of their names.
At the end of an hour, he had little more to go on. He took the names of her two close female friends, although he didn’t see this as being the work of a woman. No, it was going to be one of the men she knew. He’d get Lone Star to run a full check on the names she gave him. He’d also task them with doing a canvass of the bars where she wasted time. He knew some of them from the media, others from gossip. His people could ask subtle questions and find out if she’d kicked someone to the curb and left them plotting vengeance. Or if she’d run into someone with a possessive streak who didn’t want to let go. Probably not, but he couldn’t afford to ignore the possibility.
As soon as they were finished, Tyler headed upstairs and he went back to his laptop in the den. He was doing some searches of his own when he heard her behind him.
“I’m going outside for a while.”
He turned and nearly swallowed his tongue. She was almost wearing what had to be the teeniest bikini he had ever seen and carrying sunscreen and a towel. The look in her eyes was a mixture of residual panic and hot temptation. He’d seen a lot of women in bikinis, maybe his share and a few other people’s, also. He recalled most of those women being stick-thin.
Tyler Gillette was a whole horse of a different color. Or conformation, if you wish. Hiding beneath the dresses he’d seen her in was a lush body that made his mouth water so much he actually had to swallow. He’d gotten a hint of it in the jeans and T-shirt but the bikini exposed a woman that dreams were made of. He loved the shape of her breasts, the little curve of her tummy, the flare of her hips and the kind of thighs a man wanted pressed to his body. He had to drag his eyes away or risk embarrassing himself.
Obviously she had more in mind than just catching some fresh air. The damn little minx. Resisting her was easy enough when they only had rare contact with each other. But it seemed since her emergency call the other night, Fate was determined to throw them together, and Tyler had revived her mission to seduce him. He also noticed, coincidentally, that she’d removed the nail polish and trimmed her nails and he had to swallow a smile.
“Yell if you want to interrogate me.” She winked, obviously trying for flippancy. “Or anything.”
Or anything was exactly what he wanted.
“Where’s your phone?” He had given it back to her with strict instructions to keep her calls and texts down to her most intimate friends.
She held it up for him to see. “Maybe he won’t call again today, since I didn’t even acknowledge him on that last call.”
“That would be nice if true, but I think he’s probably just biding his time. Maybe plotting his next move.”
Her face paled, but then the snarky attitude was back like a cloak. “Gee, thanks for the reassuring words. On that note, I’m going outside.”
“Try to relax and enjoy yourself,” he called after her.
He figured she’d be out on the patio, on the portion not covered by the overhang. Instead, movement outside the window caught his eye and there she was, setting up a chair on the lawn in his direct line of vision. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her to enjoy herself, because he knew exactly what she was up to. She made a show of squinting up at the sun to determine the best direction, positioned the chair so she would face him, and then arranged herself on it. There she was, all that mouthwatering flesh, perfect breasts barely contained by the bikini top and hardly enough material to cover her mound.
In a moment, she began applying the sunscreen. First, she dribbled some from the bottle onto each breast and used her fingers to spread it over the swells. She rubbed slowly, lazily, tantalizingly. The tips of her fingers just barely slid beneath the edge of the fabric. Rafe held his breath, waiting to see if she would reach her nipples. But then she pulled her hand away to pour some more lotion into it. Even at this distance, he could see the smile teasing at her lips. The little witch knew he was watching, and she was putting on a show just for him. Oh, yes, she knew exactly what she was doing. Apparently that was how she planned to enjoy herself.
When she bent her knees, spread her legs and began to lazily stroke the lotion on the inside of her voluptuous thighs his cock got so hard it actually hurt. Not to mention the agony of his balls. She tipped more sunscreen into the palm of one hand and rubbed the liquid into the crease where hip and thigh met. When she patted it into that narrow cleft, her thumb stroked the fabric over her cunt. She finished one side then moved to the other.
Holy fucking shit.
His work completely forgotten, he sat there barely able to breathe. His heart thudded heavily in his chest and he couldn’t seem to get enough air in his lungs. Almost unconsciously, his hand dropped to cover his fly, his dick so thick and full it filled his palm. As Tyler continued to rub the sunscreen into her skin, he had an incidental thought that it was a damn good thing she’d cut her nails. He’d hate to see her stab herself in inappropriate places.
Jesus! Was he really going to get himself off right here in her den?
He yanked his hand back up and pushed away from the desk. Ice water. That’s what he needed. Maybe he’d pour it on his crotch at the same time. He downed an entire glass standing at the fridge then refilled the glass with ice and water and returned to the den. If he’d hoped that in the interim Tyler had moved her chair elsewhere, it was a futile wish. She was still in the same spot, legs splayed, skin gleaming, bathed in the glow of the sun like some ancient goddess on an altar.
Only an altar wasn’t where he’d like to see her. He wanted her inside, upstairs, splayed out on that big bed. Or maybe he’d take her into the shower and carefully wash all that sunscreen from her body. He’d pay special attention to her breasts and her thighs. Then he’d give in to temptation to just slide his fingers between the pouty lips of her pussy and drench them in her liquid. He’d strum her clit with his thumb while his fingers sought that inner sweet spot, watching her face the entire time so he could see—
Fuck!
He was doing it again. He clenched his fist and slammed it on his thigh. It was his dick he should be pounding instead, beating it into submission. Maybe he could tie a knot in it, or something.
If he was a different kind of man, he could just t
ake her to bed and fuck the shit out of her. Satisfy the urge that had been simmering all these years. But that had never been who he was nor was it now.
Rafe’s gaze lifted to the window again. As if she knew he was watching her, Tyler lifted one hand and gave him a flirty little wave. Yeah, she was relaxing and enjoying herself all right. He supposed if it got her mind off the situation he could deal with it, but putting himself through this was painful torture. He groaned. He must be out of his ever-lovin’ fucking mind. Well, he wasn’t her shrink so it wasn’t up to him to find out. He was just here to protect her and find this douche bag.
Meanwhile, if he wanted to get any work done, he had to move somewhere with a different view. A man only had so much discipline. He disconnected his laptop from everything and carried it and a stack of files into the kitchen. Refilling his glass with yet more ice water, he set himself up at the kitchen table and went to work.
Without the distraction of Tyler and her too-sexy-for-her-own-good body, he actually was able to focus on what he was doing. He was so absorbed in it he had no idea how much time had passed until he heard the glass patio door slide open. He looked up to see Tyler coming toward him, noting that her body now had a nice soft coat of tan. He looked at his watch. Holy crap! It was nearly six o’clock. He’d been at this for four hours.
“Should you have been out there all this time? That’s a long time to be in the sun.”
“I’m good. I turned over every half hour.” She grinned. “It wasn’t as much fun without you watching me.”
“I had work to do.” He shifted his gaze back to the computer screen. “Not all of us have a trust fund.”
“Is that so?” There was a sudden hard edge to her words. “Well, I happen to have it on good authority that Rafael Manda Ortiz socked away millions from his playing days in some very high-paying investments. Same difference.” She trailed her fingers across the nape of his neck as she walked behind him.
Rafe gritted his teeth. Jesus! Kill him now. He was about ten seconds away from losing his shit, seized by an urge to lick every inch of that lightly tanned body. Pretending her touch didn’t affect him took every bit of discipline he had. Remember, he told himself yet again. Gillette’s daughter and outrageously wild lifestyle. He respected the first and disapproved of the second. That should have been enough to cool his jets, so why wasn’t it?
“Well, okay,” she said. “But it’s almost time to quit whatever you’re doing and figure out dinner. I’m thinking pizza since that seems to be everyone’s universal meal. Delivered, because there’s a movie I want to watch.” She poked his shoulder. “I told you I hardly ever watch television in the great room but I’ll make an exception tonight” She paused. “Unless I can convince you to watch it upstairs in my bedroom with me.”
Rafe stopped typing and ground his teeth together as the image of a naked Tyler in bed with him threatened to destroy what was left of his rapidly degrading self-control. He kept his eyes on the computer screen, knowing if he looked at her, he’d do something stupid.
“I, uh, don’t think so.”
“Spoilsport.”
She stood so close to him the warm skin of her midriff brushed his shoulder. He wished she’d move away from him. The combination of the heady scent of sunscreen, wildflower shampoo, and just plain Tyler was making him sensuously drunk.
Move, Tyler.
“So back to dinner, then. I’ll call it in if you tell me what toppings you like. Then you can watch the movie with me.”
“Thanks, but I don’t do chick flicks.” Type, type, type.
“Well, unbelievable as it may seem, I actually like other types as well. Tonight I’m watching Lone Survivor.”
Now he stopped and looked at her. “It hardly seems your type.”
“See?” She brushed her fingers over his nape again. “Maybe you don’t really know what my type is.” Thankfully, she moved away from him. “I’m going to take a shower and wash my hair. I’ll order the pizza when I get back downstairs. Don’t work too hard.”
She giggled. Actually giggled. Then she trotted up the stairs, humming off key.
He had finished the analysis he was doing by the time Tyler came back downstairs. She was barefoot, still makeup-free, her hair still a little damp and pulled back in a high ponytail. She’d pulled on a pair of very short white shorts and an oversize University of Michigan T-shirt. The shorts barely covered the cheeks of her ass and from the way her nipples pushed against the navy material, it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. His cock tried to stand up at attention.
Rafe read the legend on the T-shirt. “That’s right. I forgot you’re a Wolverine. Any special reason?”
“Yeah.” She gave him a bitter smile. “It was about as far from Texas as I could get. You about done there, hotshot?”
“As we speak.”
He hit Save, closed the file, and shut down the laptop. Picking it up, he stuck it under his arm and headed for the den.
“How come you decided to work in the kitchen?” Tyler’s voice had a playful note to it.
“The sun got in my eyes.” As well as other things.
She followed him into the den. “Are you sure it wasn’t me distracting you?”
Yes, but he wasn’t about to admit it. He set his things on the desk and turned, nearly bumping into her. There was that scent of wildflowers again, sending his hormones into overdrive. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets to hide the fact they were tightly clenched.
“We need to get something straight, Tyler.” He cleared his throat. “We need to set boundaries.”
She gave him a look of curiosity. “Boundaries?”
He edged past her and took two steps away.
“We’re not playing games,” he told her. “I’m here for a specific purpose. I’m not one of your boy toys so just cut it out.”
“Cut what out?” She gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look.
“You know exactly what I mean. This is strictly a business relationship and it’s going to stay that way, despite your little show out there today.” Even if he did have to tie his dick in a knot.
“Fine.” She whirled and headed for the kitchen. “What do you like on your pizza?”
Rafe took as much time as he could fiddling around in the den. He half expected Tyler to sidle through the door and get playful with him. He should probably keep an ice pack in his boxer briefs if he didn’t want to embarrass himself. How was he going to make her understand that this was just a business arrangement and they needed to keep their distance? Tyler was too used to getting what she wanted.
He was happy that she hadn’t received any more calls since the last one, but people like this didn’t keep to a regular schedule. They liked to keep their prey off-kilter, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe it wouldn’t be a call or text. Maybe another incident like the tires.
Maybe—
The ringing of the doorbell interrupted his mental wanderings.
“Pizza’s here,” Tyler called from the hallway.
Rafe hustled out of the den and gently moved her aside before she could open the door.
“I’ll get it. I don’t want you answering the door.”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t think—”
He shrugged. “Not necessarily, but let’s not take any chances.”
She waited while he paid for the pizza and reset the alarm then followed him into the kitchen. They were seated at the table, eating, when she brought the subject up again.
“I can’t believe whoever this is would come right up to my door.”
“He snuck into your driveway the other night, didn’t he?”
Tyler picked a piece of pepperoni from her slice and popped it into her mouth. It was obvious to him she was trying to downplay this as much as possible. Much easier to handle that way. “You really think he’d try something, knowing you’re here?”
“He made that phone call earlier,” he reminded he
r. “I’m sure he’s pissed off because he didn’t know which of us answered the phone.”
“Would that be enough for him to just say screw it and turn to someone else?”
He shook his head. “This is personal, Tyler. I think we can both agree on that. I hate to tell you, but he’s probably biding his time, regrouping. If he was angry because he saw me arrive earlier, he’s got to be even more pissed with my car in your driveway.”
“Maybe we should put it in the garage,” she suggested. “There’s room.”
“No, I don’t think he’ll sneak into your driveway again. He might have tried if you were here alone, but he knows you have company. That ups the risk factor.”
The tension in the room was palpable as they ate the pizza and watched the movie. The room fairly vibrated with waves of pure sexual energy. Jesus, just watching her chew the pizza somehow became an erotic experience for him. In the great room, watching the movie, he had all he could do not to leap across the room and rip off her clothes. He was acutely conscious of every single movement of her body. When she sprawled on the couch, her already very short shorts rode up so high he could almost see her cunt. When she shifted her position and sat cross-legged, she positioned herself so that he could see all the way up the inside of her thighs to where that skimpy material barely covered her.
The aura of sex was so thick in the room he expected he could reach out and touch it. Periodically he shifted position in the armchair where he sat to ease the pressure of his throbbing cock. He wondered if all this was her way of dealing with the situation, putting on her public personality, or if she actually felt something for him. Not that he could do anything about it. He had to keep telling himself that.
By the time the movie was over, his balls ached so badly it gave him a headache. He couldn’t recall a time a woman had affected him this strongly. He’d be taking an icy-cold shower before he went to bed. Or maybe using his good right hand to take the edge off this intense reaction of his body.
Rafe followed Tyler into the kitchen as she carried her nearly empty drink glass and dumped the remnants in the sink. He was right behind her, so when she turned she was right up against his body. The rounded swell of her breasts and the taut buds of her nipples were visible beneath the soft T-shirt she wore. And she smelled so damn good.
