Hidden Hearts

by Susan Kearney

  While Sydney had wanted to make the world a better place to live in, Alexandra dreamed of building better places for people to work in. Every time she glanced at her blueprints, her eyes softened and took on a dreamy warmth. He wondered how he’d feel if she ever looked at him like that.

  Instead she preferred to give him frowns and scowls of disbelief. If she thought his offer to let her use his cell phone was simply a ruse to get her into his car, she’d find out differently. He hadn’t resorted to violence when she’d kicked his shin. He hadn’t barged in on her shower. He intended to keep his word to her. Eventually she would learn that he was a man of honor.

  He reached out, took her wrist and tugged her beside him. “When I say close, I mean close.”

  “Okay. O-kay.”

  He dropped her wrist before she yanked back, giving her a moment to make up her own mind. Not that she had a choice, and he supposed she knew that and didn’t like it, but she adjusted to his demand. Under no circumstances would he compromise her safety.

  He hesitated by her front door. While he wanted her to trust him, he knew better. He looked into those magnificent eyes and knew no explanation would suffice. She was as stubborn as two mules. So he resorted to what had worked before—a threat. “When it comes to your safety, I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep you alive—even if that means tying your hands behind your back, gagging you, tossing you over my shoulder and carrying you out of here.”

  Her eyes flashed yellow darts of fire. “You’re a Neanderthal!”

  “When I say cooperate, it’s not to hear myself talk.” He made his voice soothing to take away the sting of his words. Peering back down the empty hallway, he hoped she might accept his explanation now that he’d knocked away her complacence. He needed her wary—but not of him. “If someone starts shooting, I want you close enough so I can protect you with my body. Understand?”

  Her eyes widened and she swallowed hard. Her fingers tightly clutched the strap of her bag, but for once, she didn’t argue.

  They walked out of her apartment into the hot, humid air, and his every nerve cell fired on alert. The apartment faced a busy two-lane highway, but after exiting her place, they took a side egress that led to a smaller street and a subdivision of modest houses. He scanned ahead, from side to side, looking for the slightest movement, a shadow that didn’t belong, a glint of metal reflecting off a weapon.

  “It looks good,” he murmured softly as they stepped onto a brick sidewalk outside her complex. “Just another two blocks—”

  An ice-cream truck drove by, and Roarke stepped behind a giant magnolia and pulled her with him. Mixing with the scent of magnolia blossoms, he took in the scent of her vanilla shampoo and a floral deodorant. She smelled good. Too good. And he realized that if anyone was hunting them from downwind, they’d smell her in the dark at twenty yards.

  He’d have to educate her. He reminded himself once again that she knew nothing about surveillance, terrorism and counterterrorism. She lived in a world where people locked their doors and believed they were safe from prying eyes. She lived in a world where people didn’t sleep with a gun under their pillow, another under the mattress and a knife on the nightstand. She lived in a world where she could go to sleep knowing she’d awaken safe in the morning.

  Except someone believed she had something valuable in her possession. And they might be willing to kill to get it.

  Danger came from an unexpected direction. Not a van of terrorists across the street, but an SUV driven by a harried-looking mother.

  As the woman, her SUV filled with noisy kids and groceries, pulled up to the curb, she waved to Alexandra. And Alexandra’s face wore a too-wide smile.

  It was the first time he’d seen her grin. A grin that lit up her sparkling topaz eyes and brightened her oval face. He automatically knew she was up to no good.

  Damn it! She didn’t trust him, and she was about to engage her neighbor in a conversation. Didn’t she realize that whoever was after her would return? Ask questions? Just by talking to the woman, Alexandra could be putting her neighbor and her kids in danger.

  Without hesitating, Roarke did the first thing he could think of to keep her from calling out a hello. He swung her around, took her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.

  Her lips parted under his. In surprise?

  He meant to pull away as soon as the neighbor drove on by. He meant to pull back and explain why he had to stop her from talking to her neighbor. He meant the kiss to distract her from verbally calling out attention to either of them. But his resolution flew by the wayside the moment his lips touched hers.

  She was amazing.

  Alexandra fitted against him as if she were made for him. Without awkwardness, without a jostling of hips, noses or elbows. She fitted exactly right. Seemingly of their own accord, his arms drew her closer.

  He’d expected her to kick his shin again. Shout a protest. But she didn’t pull back. Her arms were around his neck, her fingers in his hair.

  And she tasted like savory mints. Smelled like new-mown grass and Florida sunshine. She was making his pulse skip and slide and the blood was rushing up his neck to his brain until he felt dizzy.

  Dizzy from wanting her. Dizzy from tasting her.

  And she wasn’t bony as he’d first thought, but lean and toned and very excitingly feminine.

  And she was kissing him back with an enthusiasm that was making his bones melt into a puddle of sizzling need.

  God! She was hot.

  And he was on fire.

  He must have lost his mind. There could be no other possible explanation for how good he felt. Roarke Stone had finally lost it. He was flipping out over a kiss from a woman who didn’t even like him.

  He had no business messing with a client. He was working a case. Even as he held her close and tasted more of those exciting lips and sipped at her tongue, he could think of a million reasons to stop kissing her.

  Except he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to let the glorious sensations cascade over him like a waterfall of warm, sexy rain. He wanted to explore her mouth, her chin, her collarbone. Take hours to learn where to touch her to drive her crazy.

  What the hell was happening here?

  Before his hand moved from her waist, under her shirt, up to discover her breasts, he had to force himself to pull back. It took every ounce of willpower he had to lift his head, to look down into her dazed face, her splendidly passion-shocked eyes and watch her recover.

  “Wh-what…? Why? Why did you…?” Completely stunned, she stepped back, her legs unsteady, her expression baffled as she recovered from that amazing kiss.

  As her passion slowly dissipated, her former wariness reasserted itself. As she struggled to regroup, he might have laughed to cover his unease, but he hadn’t quite recovered either.

  Just what the hell had happened here? That amazing kiss. This ripping attraction between them. She had to feel it, too.

  And she looked none too happy about it.

  Chapter Four

  Alexandra staggered back from Roarke’s devastating kiss totally baffled. Had that been real hunger in his mesmerizing blue eyes? Or was the man so practiced at kissing that he had the correct expression down pat?

  He wasn’t just a great kisser, he was in a league all his own. He was an out-of-this-world kisser. The best. The greatest. Unfortunately, he was also arrogant, deceptive and conniving.

  And she didn’t like him—a fact she’d stupidly forgotten once his lips had touched hers. Her own reactions had betrayed her. Her brain had ceased working. Her heart pumped red-hot blood into her neck and face until she’d felt flushed. Her lungs wouldn’t draw enough air. And her legs were weak as a newborn foal’s.

  He reached for her again, as if knowing exactly how much his lips on hers had affected her. But if he thought one kiss would make her malleable, he’d soon learn otherwise. She had to stay on her guard—especially now that she knew how vulnerable she was to him.

  That kiss
had come out of nowhere. He’d taken her totally by surprise, and she regretted not being able to somehow notify her neighbor of her plight. “Whatever possessed you to—”

  “Sorry.” He apologized easily, but she could see from the light in his eyes that he didn’t regret his actions one bit. “I couldn’t let you speak to your neighbor.”

  “Why not?” She folded her arms over her chest, feeling cold despite the heat of the late-afternoon sun.

  “Someone might question her later.” He eyed her calmly, shooting her his please-be-reasonable look.

  “Someone like the police?”

  The accusation popped out of Alexandra’s mouth before she could stop it. Damn!

  Her lapse of judgment had to be due to that stunning kiss. Even now, a minute or so later, her lips still recalled his scorching touch, her body still tingled and her pulse had yet to return to normal. Roarke’s face didn’t change expression at her slip-up, making her wonder if she’d ever fooled him at all.

  He explained patiently. “The intruder who broke the chain on your front door used force. You want to take a chance he might apply the same technique on your neighbor?”

  A single mom with three kids? She wouldn’t have risked it if she’d known her actions could place the woman in danger, although there was no guarantee the man still might not question her neighbor. Alexandra swallowed hard, understanding that he’d assessed the situation and acted before she’d even considered the possibilities. Or was he feeding her another line to keep anyone from knowing that she was with him?

  “I didn’t think—”

  “It’s okay. That’s why I’m here.” He held out his hand to her. “It would make my job easier if you’d at least give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  Recalling how fast he could move, she knew she couldn’t possibly escape him if she learned he really wasn’t trustworthy. After clearly showing him how little she trusted him, she tried to repair the damage by putting her hand in his.

  His hand closed around hers lightly, but it might as well have been a stainless-steel handcuff. He held her trapped and it made her heartbeat quicken again. She’d feel much better about her situation once he let her use his cell phone.

  They walked the next block to a white sedan parked beneath a towering oak. She memorized the license plate and, as he unlocked the door, she searched for the phone he’d promised to lend her.

  Roarke opened the door for her, and she verified that the door handles were still there in case she wanted to make a quick exit. They were. But she still hesitated. Knowing the locks were placed by the driver’s hand, she remained extremely reluctant to get inside. Especially when she saw no sign of a phone.

  “Where’s your phone?”

  Roarke leaned inside and ran his hand in the crack between the seat and the backrest. “My car’s in the shop. This is a rental. I must have left my phone in the other car this morning.”

  “How convenient.”

  She stepped back, and Roarke straightened. “Not for me. Not if the mechanic runs up my bill. We can stop at a pay phone,” he offered when instead of moving toward the passenger seat she retreated another step.

  She had known he’d have another perfectly logical explanation, but her suspicions went on overdrive. This time she made no pretense of hiding them. “You wouldn’t let me call the cops from my apartment. You wouldn’t let me talk to my neighbor. And now I can’t use your cell phone. Not one person in this world knows I’m with you.” She snapped her fingers. “I could disappear and you could get away with—”

  “Murder?” He leaned back and rested his hands on his narrow hips. “If I wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t have made it off your back terrace. Or out of the Dumpster.”

  She thought of that raging-hot kiss. “Maybe murder isn’t what you had in mind.”

  “Now you think I’m a rapist?”

  It sounded ridiculous when he put it like that. She realized if rape had been his intention, he could have overpowered her back in her apartment.

  “I don’t know what or who you are.”

  “I told you—”

  “And why should I believe you? Because you beat up that man in my apartment?”

  “You didn’t protest at the time,” he countered.

  “You’re deliberately missing the point. You carry a gun.”

  “I have a permit.”

  “Which I’m sure isn’t on you, right? You talk about terrorists as casually as other men talk about football. And I have no idea why you expect me to believe a word you say.” She didn’t even pause for breath. “And you’ve given me no proof that my brother hired you.”

  “Actually, I have no proof until Jake returns, and he isn’t answering his calls.”

  “I suppose Jake didn’t pay you by check?”

  “He had his assistant Harrison wire cash.”

  “Then we could talk to him,” she suggested.

  “You can try. I’ve called several times and he’s always out.”

  Alexandra rolled her eyes. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.”

  Roarke didn’t flex one muscle. “Exactly what would you like me to do?”

  She gestured with her hand. “Go away. You’re fired.”

  Roarke shook his head. “You can’t fire me because you didn’t hire me.”

  So exactly how was she going to get rid of him? She didn’t get into cars with strangers.

  “How about a compromise?” he offered.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’ll walk you back to your car. You drive me back here. I’ll follow you to your friend’s house and make sure you’re okay.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You won’t insist on coming inside?”

  “No.”

  Under his plan, she’d still have to get into a vehicle with him, but she would be driving. But he still had his gun. He could force her to drive anywhere he wanted her to go.

  He must have seen the refusal in her eyes. Before she could let out a scream, he picked her up and dumped her into the front seat of his car, then leaned over and snapped on her seat belt.

  Hands trembling, she fumbled for the release. Just when he’d about convinced her he was looking out for her safety, he’d used force against her. She might not be hurt, but she didn’t trust him. Maybe he was one of those sickos who captured women and kept them for years in a basement.

  Maybe he intended to kidnap her for ransom. Her parents would pay well for her safe return.

  He vaulted across the hood. She had to get away. The seat belt clicked open and retracted. She reached for the door handle.

  He slid into the driver’s seat. And then he shot her one of those charming grins. “It’s going to be okay. Tell me where your friend lives.”

  She knew better than to believe him. Fear made her sweat on the outside, but she felt as if she’d swallowed a snowball and her insides froze.

  Frantic, Alexandra yanked on the door.

  Calmly, Roarke reached across her and shut the door, the loud slam one of sickening finality that sealed her fate. He had her trapped, had her just where he wanted her.

  She tried to bite his arm, claw his face, elbow him in the neck. She missed. Opened her mouth to scream.

  “Don’t yell. I won’t hurt you.”

  “Then prove it,” she demanded.

  “How?”

  “Give me your gun,” she suggested.

  Without hesitation, Roarke pulled out his gun, and sheer terror paralyzed her. She shouldn’t have reminded him of the weapon.

  Then he handed her the gun—butt first.

  What the hell? She’d thought he was going to shoot her. Thought these breaths were her last.

  “Here. Take it.”

  She accepted the weapon. Heavier than she would have imagined, it fit her hand and restored some of her confidence. She knew a little about guns. Her father had taught her how to shoot when she was a kid. The safety was on, which meant if s
he pulled the trigger the weapon wouldn’t fire.

  She released the clip at the bottom, checked to make sure the weapon had bullets and then snapped the clip back into place. Without hesitation she flipped off the safety, but she didn’t point the weapon at Roarke. The first two things her dad had drummed into her were to treat every gun as if it was loaded and never to point the weapon at anything unless she wanted to shoot at it. And all of a sudden, she wasn’t so sure she could shoot Roarke Stone.

  “Feel safer now?” He looked as cool as a talk-show host in front of a nationwide audience, not the least perturbed that she’d accepted his weapon and might decide to shoot him.

  She couldn’t believe that her voice sounded almost normal. “I’d feel better if you didn’t have a backup gun in your—”

  “Ankle holster.” He sent her a you-wouldn’t-dare-shoot-me grin and started the engine.

  Hot air blasted from the air conditioner, and he rolled down the windows a few inches to release the heat. He snapped off the radio and retrieved a pair of dark sunglasses from beneath the sun visor.

  “Why did you give me this gun?”

  “You looked scared.”

  She scowled at him. “I am scared.”

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  Easy for him to say. Easier for her to believe now that she had his weapon. She suspected he might be able to knock the gun from her hand before she could pull the trigger, but simply holding the weapon had lessened her panic. That he’d given it to her revealed that he understood her fear and wanted to ease it.

  At least she now knew he wasn’t one of those wackos who fed off women’s anxieties to make themselves feel more powerful. But maybe he simply enjoyed toying with her. Maybe the bullets were blanks.

  She didn’t think so. “Turn right at the corner and take Beach Boulevard west.”