Against the Wall

by Debra Webb

  “But why take a shot at me?”

  “He wouldn’t, but whoever killed your dad is getting nervous about what you know and who you’re talking to. Tell Ramirez we’re done for the night.”

  “You think he’ll be okay with that decision?”

  “He’ll understand that to play our part tomorrow we need to lay low tonight.”

  She plucked at her skirt. “I can’t face off against Camille and Sam looking like this.”

  “You won’t have to. I packed a few things while you were in the shower.”

  “You did what?”

  “I packed the basics.” At least from his perspective. He slid a glance her way. “Don’t worry, it’ll go with those boots.”

  She laughed softly. “You’re a sucker for these boots.”

  “For all of you,” he said before he could stop himself. “You’ve really hung in there.”

  “You didn’t expect me to.”

  “No,” he confessed. “I didn’t expect any of this.” There. He’d been honest with her, even if he didn’t specify what he meant by this.

  Considering the options and their timetable, he decided against a cheap motel. She deserved better after all the craziness. He’d use an alternate ID and credit card so Camille and Maguire couldn’t trace the transaction. Dylan had a spare plate for the truck, though he couldn’t hide the wrecked window.

  Life was about chances, he thought, backing into a parking space. The space was safely camouflaged by shrubbery in the parking lot of one of the most elegant hotels in town. He booked a room from his phone and then took care of the license plates while she waited in the cab. After taping a sheet of plastic across the back window he opened her door. “I’m ready.”

  She just looked at him for a long moment. “Guess this isn’t the first time you’ve had this kind of trouble. You have an inspired emergency kit in that truck.”

  “Probably won’t be the last time so I try to stay prepared.” He grinned as he reached between her legs and unlocked the safe under her seat. “Time to finish our homework.”

  Gathering up everything important from the truck, he led her into the lobby. When they were settled in the room, rather than relax she started to pace.

  “Do I need to get you a drink?” he asked.

  “Water’s fine.”

  “Do I need to listen?” He sank down on the king sized bed and watched her, waiting.

  She shook her head and stared through the window over the glittering Austin skyline. “You called me baby when we danced.”

  “That offended you?”

  She turned, scooping her hair back from her face. “No.” She seemed a little surprised by the admission. Crossing the room, she held out her hands. “Let’s finish that dance.”

  “Jana.” He resisted when she tried to tug him to his feet. This couldn’t end well.

  “I need to feel something other than grief or betrayal, Dylan. I want to feel what I felt on that dance floor.”

  “You heard Ramirez. We’re almost done.” He tipped his head toward the desk. “What about the homework?”

  “Not tonight. We can wake up early in the morning.” She leaned in close, her body brushing lightly against his as she swayed. “Please, Dylan.”

  Where was an interruption when he needed one? “I’m not the man you need.” Though he damn well wanted to be. He was too jaded for her, too rough to fit into her sophisticated life.

  “You’re the man I need right now.” She pressed her lips to his jaw.

  He went hard in an instant. One night. Right now. It was exactly how he did things. He smoothed his hands over the swell of her hips knowing he should step back. Walk away. She wanted to be a politician and being with him would drag her down.

  He couldn’t do this. Even just one night with him, knowing the scope of his past failures, could ruin her dreams. Worse, it scared him to realize he wanted more than right here and now. He’d vowed never to leave himself this vulnerable again.

  “It’s adrenaline,” he told her. “It’ll pass.”

  She reached down, cupping him and stroking his erection through his jeans. “Feels like you have an adrenaline rush going, too.”

  He closed his eyes. A seduction? Out of the prim Ms. Clayton? “You’re playing with fire,” he warned, knowing he could snap any second.

  Her eyes sparkled when she looked up at him. “I know. I’m burning up.” She licked her lips as her fingers dipped behind his belt.

  He pushed his hand into her hair and covered those full, luscious lips with his. She tasted sweet and so, so hot. Pleasure scorched him from the inside out. He gave up thinking about anything beyond this moment with this woman.

  He untied the knot of her halter-top, letting it fall away. The pale skin of her breasts swelled against the sleek satin cups of her bra. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples to hard peaks as he backed her toward the bed.

  She fell with a laugh onto the soft mattress and he followed her down, pinning her hands over her head. He wanted to feast and discover and if she kept up this pace, it would be over too soon.

  She flexed her hips. “This is better than the backyard,” she murmured between kisses along his throat.

  “Careful with those knees,” he replied.

  In answer, she wriggled one leg free and wrapped it around his.

  Shifting, he dipped a hand under her skirt, relishing the toned muscles and soft skin. Exploring more, he found the high hem of her panties riding the curve of her bottom. “Ms. Clayton, you surprise me.”

  Her smile promised all sorts of wild delights, but her voice was soft. “Let me touch you.”

  He kissed her, long and deep, until they both needed to catch their breath. Releasing her, he pushed back to his feet. He saw the protest on her rosy lips die as he yanked off his shirt and tossed it aside.

  “Very nice.” Her gaze locked on his bare chest.

  He put his hands on his belt but stopped. “You’re falling behind.”

  Her eyes gleamed with a wicked light and she sat up, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she unhooked her bra.

  He sat down long enough to remove his boots. “Leave those on,” he said when she reached for her boots. There was a dangerous fantasy in his head. If he could only have one night with her he wanted to make the most of it.

  Standing, he worked his belt loose, then undid his fly and pushed off his jeans.

  She took her sweet time looking him over before she came to her feet. Her breasts thrust forward as she lowered the zipper at the back of her skirt. It slid down her legs and pooled on the floor. She stepped out of it and closer to him.

  “Seems I’m still overdressed,” she whispered.

  “My God.” She was a vision, a thousand times more beautiful than he deserved in her black satin panties, red-hot boots, and all that gorgeous hair spilling over her shoulders. “You are magnificent.”

  “Back at ya.” Her voice was a rasp against his senses as she ran her hands, then her lips over his chest.

  He kissed her mouth, trailing open-mouthed kisses across her skin in a sensual discovery of shoulders, breasts, and belly. On his knees in front of her, he removed that last scrap of fabric and teased her with lips, tongue, and fingers until she was gasping and quaking on a climax.

  With his name echoing in the air, he caught her and fell to the bed. Her hair spread in waves across the pillows and her legs wrapped around his hips as he drove into her. Need clawed at him, building with every thrust into her welcoming body, until she clenched with another climax, carrying him along with her.

  Spent, he nuzzled her neck, before reluctantly rolling to his side. Whatever time he had left with her, he wouldn’t regret it. But he wouldn’t waste time labeling the experience with passionate words and impossible promises either. He might want more—from himself and her—but it couldn’t work. Wouldn’t be fair. She was destined for a great public career, and his business skirted the fringes of the law, not to mention the disgraceful end to
his first career.

  He was bad for her. He couldn’t risk hurting her.

  She meant too much to him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jana sat up and dispensed with the boots, surprised at how easily she’d embraced his sexy game. She hadn’t ever had fun in bed with her short list of sexual partners. “And men say they don’t care about fashion,” she teased, tucking herself next to Dylan’s strong, lean body. It would be a miracle if she ever learned to breathe normally again.

  “You should let that side of you out more often,” he said on a quiet laugh.

  “I’ll make a note.”

  “Not tonight.” He shifted, pulling her on top of him and wrapping his arms around her.

  She felt... cherished. And loved. She was certain he would think she’d lost her mind or was on an emotional rebound from her dad’s murder... but she was certain. She loved him. He was different, and genuine. Politics was always a thorny road, and you had to have tough skin and the adaptability to maneuver it. Yet, she’d never anticipated just how brutal the betrayals could be. Did she really want to be part of it going forward? Her dad had done good work, cultivated a spirit of honor and duty in her heart, but maybe there was a better route for her. This conspiracy would be hard to recover from even if they coaxed the confession Ramirez wanted.

  Dylan brushed a fingertip across her brow. “You’re frowning. Want to talk about it?”

  “No.” She levered up and over him, turning out the light. “I have better things to do.” Under her hands, her lips, his hard body came to life once more as she slowly explored him with all the attention he’d devoted to her.

  Oh yes, she loved this man.

  Monday, November 19

  Hours later as the first wisps of sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, Jana was awakened by Dylan’s soft kisses and enticing touch. It was an indescribably marvelous start to what would be another disastrous and dangerous day. Hopefully her last one for a long time. She opened for him, body and soul, knowing that if things went right, he’d soon be gone from her life. It didn’t seem fair, but what could she do?

  They ordered room service and pored over the papers her dad had hidden and she still didn’t have the answers she needed.

  Ramirez had the men who’d accessed her house in custody, but they weren’t revealing any connection to Camille or Maguire or to Senator Price. “I know it’s important to connect Senator Price to my dad’s murder, but I don’t see it,” she said. “If he’d wanted to kill my dad for disagreeing with him, he would have tried ages ago.”

  “He met with Atkins and Maguire.”

  She groaned. The reminder wasn’t necessary. “But that just proves he uses strong arm tactics to get what he wants. He has always played that nasty game. After what we found in the bank deposit box, I am convinced this was far more personal than Senator Price’s agenda.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir, baby, and you don’t have to solve this alone.” Dylan smoothed her hair back over her ear. “I’m with you, all the way.”

  “I appreciate that more than you can know.” He called her baby again, making her feel warm and safe. She appreciated that, too. And she loved that he liked her hair down. She might wear it down all the time. Though it could prove counterproductive to have a constant reminder of her time with Dylan. Focus on the investigation, Jana. “Okay, so what if Senator Price is an insurance policy of some sort?”

  “How do you figure? You said he didn’t have access to the study and we now know he’s been working behind the scenes on this piece of legislation for a long time. He and your dad were longtime enemies.”

  “They need him to ensure the votes he has always influenced stay in play.” Jana mulled over the idea. “They give him something he wants, and he rallies the votes. It’s the way of politics, only this time someone died. Maybe Price and Gregory hadn’t expected a move like that and now they’re both terrified of being implicated.”

  “Every step Camille and Maguire have taken is about the balance of power.”

  Jana nodded. “Every single one. Even murder.”

  “They don’t care who gets caught in the crossfire or who they have to hurt.”

  She nodded again. “Price, Gregory, and I are expendable. They use us as scapegoats or pawns.” Jana shuddered. “They used my distraction about Dad’s death and those ugly rumors to suggest Camille was better suited for the appointment. They used Gregory to keep Dad upset and distracted with the hate mail. What are they using Price for, beyond the votes?”

  “Damn good question,” Dylan agreed. “Your dad recognized something was going on and he alerted Ramirez. We’re close, Jana, real close to solving this. All we need to figure out is who pulled the trigger. Ramirez and his crew can do the rest.”

  Jana sat back and pressed her hands to her eyes. God, she was so tired. “Then it’ll be over.”

  Dylan’s cell phone rang, putting an end to the painful discussion. She watched him pace to the window and back as he listened to the caller. If they were lucky, this really would all be over soon and Dylan would be on to the next case. She tried to be happy about it and couldn’t quite get there.

  “Ramirez is ready for us to move.”

  “The house is empty?”

  Dylan nodded.

  “He wired the study?” Jana had given him the pass codes and the permission to enter the home—after all, legally it belonged to her, not Camille.

  “That’s done too,” Dylan said, dropping into the chair next to her. “You can do this. I’ll be right there with you. I will keep you safe.”

  She nodded, then reached out and kissed him. “Promise me something.”

  He smiled. “Whatever I can deliver is yours.”

  “When this is over, I want one more night with you.”

  Dylan smiled. “It’s a deal.” He loved the way her mind worked. Loved her.

  The realization astonished him and while he wouldn’t lie to himself, it wasn’t something he could say aloud. He didn’t dare. Telling her meant her inevitable, polite rejection would haunt every day of his future.

  He’d made the most of the moment, he thought, swallowing the last of his coffee. He’d had Jana in those sexy boots, out of them, and then first thing this morning. They’d made love again in the shower. He wasn’t close to satisfying his craving.

  He called himself an idiot for feeling anything at all. Their differences were nothing as simple as background or geography. They were light years apart socially and possibly farther than that morally. She was all about good work and, while he thought of himself as a good guy, he worked in some shady areas. He was a Protector, and as soon as she wasn’t in danger he’d be moved to another case.

  She wanted one more night with him. He tried not to get his hopes up. If they got the confession for Ramirez, Dylan silently vowed he’d give her the chance to walk away before she gave him so much as one more sweet kiss. It was the least he could do. She made him want to do and say things he’d never dreamed of wanting to say and do after leaving Montana.

  So not a smart move, Parker.

  On the drive to the Clayton ranch he noted her mounting tension. He reached across the cab and caught her hand. “Relax. We’ve got this.”

  “They killed my dad.” No pain in her voice now, only steely determination. “You may have to keep me from clawing her eyes out.”

  “I’m a Protector, I’ll do whatever necessary to guard your best interests.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. I honestly don’t know what I would do without you.”

  He wondered if she would still feel that way when this was over.

  Chapter Fifteen

  They waited in her dad’s study. Everything was in place, including a video camera Dylan had set up for documenting whatever happened. Through Claudia’s resources he had put the word out that he and Jana had uncovered evidence that her dad had been murdered. Ramirez’s team was in position on the property. A warrant had provided the new master code since Camill
e had changed it after Jana and Dylan’s last visit. Dylan had also notified the list of press contacts Jana had given him. Now, all she had to do was play the part. Most of what she was about to say and do was nothing more than a bluff—one she had to pull off if she was going to nail her dad’s killer.

  “Helen?” Camille’s cultured voice rang through the house.

  “Told you we should’ve changed the locks,” Dylan murmured. “Then we could get her on breaking and entering,” he teased.

  Jana smiled at the same time bracing for the worst, reminding herself how good it would feel when the ranch was free of Camille’s evil presence. “Would’ve tipped our hand,” she murmured as the sound of Camille’s heels clicked across the slate floor, coming ever nearer to the study.

  As Camille rushed through the open doors, Jana rose from her dad’s chair. Sam was right behind her stepmother, as expected. The bastard.

  “Hello, Camille,” Jana said. Her stepmother stopped short and irritation twisted her typically serene features. “Dylan and I know what you did,” Jana continued, “and how you treated Dad. I’ve sent the evidence to the news networks,” she said, sticking with Ramirez’s script. “Within an hour, the rest of the world will know, too, and then your precious appointment will be taken from you.”

  “How did you get in here?” Camille demanded.

  Jana smiled. “I have my ways.”

  Sam swore. “Hold on a minute. Let’s talk this out, honey.” He stood shoulder to shoulder with Camille, their solidarity painfully obvious. “What is this evidence you think you’ve found?”

  “We’re way past that, Sam. Nothing you can say will make this right.”

  “Honestly!” Camille barked. “What in the world are you talking about? You can’t possibly believe the lies of this man,” she flung an arm toward Dylan, “over your own family. I won’t allow the Clayton name to be dragged through that kind of mud. He has no proof of anything he’s told you.”

  Jana’s stepmother sounded annoyed but Jana saw the worry in her eyes. She was terrified that Jana had found the evidence she’d been looking for. “Dylan has been a thousand times more honest with me than either of you.”