by Mia Zachary
“Thanks, Nick. Why don’t you take her up that way?” She pointed toward a darkened path. Then she gave him directions to a service elevator so he could avoid unwanted speculation.
Once on the sixth floor, Alex quickly located the door to Meghan’s suite. Bending his knees, he dropped her shoes and set her bare feet on the carpet. He hugged her awkwardly, one arm around her waist to keep her upright. Now to find the key.
Her head flopped forward onto his chest when he held her away to look for the pockets of her dress. No visible pockets. Nothing but wet, clingy, translucent pink cotton. He slid his right hand over her hips, trying to feel for a small plastic card. No hidden pockets, either.
Where the hell…? He stopped in midthought and shifted his gaze downward. The only possible place to hide it was in her bra. Alex swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He’d been dying to touch her breasts all night, wondering whether they really would fill his palms. In his imagination, though, she’d at least been awake.
He slipped his fingers beneath the wet fabric, the buttons of her dress grazing his hand as he reached inside. He searched the left cup first, biting back a groan when her nipple beaded at his touch. He found the slim magnetic card key, warm from her body heat, but took his time removing it from her bra.
A bell chimed to indicate the elevator was about to stop on this floor. He quickly slid the card into the lock, and with one foot bracing the door open, he kicked her shoes inside. Then he slid his right arm under her knees, lifted her back into his arms and ducked into the suite.
The layout of the rooms was identical to his, so he headed toward the bedroom. He laid her down before going to get a towel. He dried her hair and face, then rubbed the soft cloth over her arms and legs. Meghan remained lifeless through it all.
Alex tossed the towel onto the night table and started to pull the bedspread over her. He hesitated when he looked at the wet material of her dress. The cotton had plastered itself to her body.
He’d have to take it off. He couldn’t leave her like that, in case she caught a chill. Yeah. That was his argument. The truth was he wanted to see what she wore under the sexy little dress.
With one knee on the edge of the bed, he bent down and began to undo the buttons running along the front. He slipped a hand beneath her shoulders and raised her to a sitting position. She flopped onto him while he pulled her arms out of the dress.
After peeling the fabric to her waist, he laid her back on the bed. She had a beautiful body, curves in all the right places. Her smooth golden skin offset the dark pink lace of her bra. His fingers ached to touch her again, to stroke her pliant flesh and feel it heat up under his hands.
Just then, Meghan stirred, moaning softly as she flung out her left arm. She began to roll over in her sleep, allowing him to pull the damp dress away. His brain shut down completely when he saw her underwear.
The hot-pink thong left nothing to the imagination. The top circled her trim waist while the thin center strip disappeared into the most perfectly rounded ass he’d ever seen. Alex rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “You’re really killing me, Trouble.”
He knew he was a total lowlife, but reached out for her anyway. He caressed one cheek and sighed. Her firm, smooth flesh felt like velvet. His fingers slid toward the honeyed skin of her inner thigh. The damp denim of his jeans barely contained his erection as he recalled an entry in her diary.
She opens her legs, shamelessly watching him watch her. His fingers slide into her wet heat, gliding in a circular rhythm. She arches against his hand, urging him on…
He reluctantly pulled the covers over her and stepped back from the bed as his conscience gnawed at him. There were all kinds of reasons to keep his distance. Not the least of which was she could be a suspect. He’d learned from Emelio’s mistake. He ought to stay away from her. He knew better—
Aw, hell. He was going to make love to Meghan.
ALEX LAY ON HIS BACK, tired, spent and gasping for air.
His bare skin was hot and flushed, his hair soaked with sweat. The scent of Meghan’s fragrance filled his nostrils. Every muscle in his body ached with fatigue. When he got his breathing under control, he peeled open his eyes to gaze up at her.
Even with tousled hair and no makeup, she still looked beautiful. Despite her bloodshot eyes. “Finished already, Nick?”
Her words floated down to him, barely audible above the pounding of his heart. She had the kind of voice created for telephone sex. Not that a guy like him needed auto-erotic pursuits. Usually.
“Give me a break. I’ve been at it for the last hour.”
He placed the barbell and weights back on the rack and struggled to sit up. Meghan stepped back from the bench press to give him room. He got to his feet and stretched, showing off the results of his labor. The admiration in her golden-brown eyes was worth the effort.
He hadn’t slept worth a damn the whole night. But instead of flashbacks to Overtown, images from her journal had kept him hard awake. Every time he tried to slide into unconsciousness, another fantasy stole over him, increasing the aching pressure in his groin. She was all he could think about. Not even a five-mile run and an hour of throwing steel in the gym had burned off his restless energy.
Alex grabbed his towel off the floor beside him, dried his face and chest. A grin tugged at his mouth when he noticed her eyes following his movements. He flexed his biceps, posing for her. “Are you here for one of the exercise classes?”
“Actually, I came for the Stress Release Shiatsu Massage.” She rolled her shoulders and took a deep breath, drawing his attention to her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra today. Seeing her nipples strain against the thin cotton of her T-shirt opened a floodgate of desire.
“Feeling tense, lady? I have just what you need.”
“I’ll bet you do. But I’ll stick with a massage for now.”
He latched onto her last two words, lowering his voice to an intimate level. “That leaves all kinds of possibilities for later.”
Instead of flirting back, Meghan glanced away. Bright color crept onto her cheeks and she twisted the bracelet on her wrist. He touched his fingers to her shoulder, guiding her toward the bank of windows. “So, Trouble. Where have you been all morning?”
“I’ve been, um, avoiding you.”
“Well. That’s brutally honest.”
She winced and brushed her hand over his forearm. “Forgive me, please. I’m so embarrassed. Those Miami Vices were pretty strong and I don’t normally drink.”
Alex leaned one hip against the wall, offering her a sympathetic grin. “Yeah, you were toasted, all right. How’s your head?”
“It’s still attached, I think.” She rubbed her temple and grimaced. “I couldn’t swear to it, though.”
“Make sure you drink plenty of water—”
“Nick, I’m really sorry about last night.”
He concentrated on her eyes, needing to gauge her response to his next question, and braced himself for the answer. “Are you sorry about all of it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind, forget it.”
He stared blindly out the window, absently rubbing his chest where his ego had been bruised. If Meghan forgot the most incredible kiss he’d ever had, he sure as hell wasn’t going to jog her memory. Here he’d tried to be a gentleman… Well, except for fondling her butt while she lay in a drunken stupor.
“I regret drinking so much and letting Julie set me up with those losers. Mostly, I’m sorry for the way I treated you.”
“I wasn’t complaining.”
“I remember.” Her voice was alluring, her tone silky, when she answered. Amusement twinkled in her eyes as she swept her gaze over his body. “Oh, do I remember.”
He flinched and looked at her in surprise. Did she wake up last night without him realizing? “Uh, you do?”
“At least, up to a point. We were on the beach and then I was in my room with a killer hangover.”
Good. His secret w
as safe. Alex hesitated for a second, then just had to ask. “So, you also remember what you told me?”
She managed a choking laugh. “How could I forget? I’ve never done anything like that before in my life. I can’t imagine what you must think of me.”
Alex cupped her cheek in his palm, looking deeply into her eyes. “I think you’re a beautiful woman who recognizes the inevitable.”
“I should probably explain. I need to tell you why—” She broke off when someone walked close enough to overhear their conversation.
“Do you still want to go snorkeling this afternoon? We can talk on the way.”
“Yes, I want to go. I can meet you at the pier in an hour or so.” Meghan placed her hands on his forearms and rose up on tiptoes. She pressed her lips against his in a warm kiss.
The sweetness of it sang through his veins. He smiled, feeling strangely…happy. “See you at three o’clock, Trouble.”
Alex watched her walk away, mesmerized by the sway of her hips in the tight white shorts. His eyes followed her across the gym and up the steps toward the spa before he went into the locker room.
He must be losing his damned mind to even consider getting involved with her. The background check Emelio had done came back clean. No wants or warrants, not even an outstanding parking ticket. Meghan had nothing to do with the cartel. Still, Alex knew it would be a mistake.
Given her attitude about law enforcement, she probably wouldn’t hang around if she knew the truth about him. Normally he wasn’t one to shy away from a conflict. But until he knew what Ramos was up to, his true identity had to remain protected.
Shit. Here he was in the same old situation again.
His ex-wife, Liz, had divorced him because of the secrets he’d kept and the lies he’d told, the sudden disappearances and the unexplained absences. She had refused to understand that, for Alex, being a DEA agent wasn’t just a job; it was the key to his identity.
After stripping off his sweaty tank shirt and draw-string pants, he turned on one of the showers and stepped under the pulsating spray. The hot water hit his shoulders, flowed in rivulets over his chest and down his torso, dripping off of his thighs. He worked up a lather, then began washing the residue from his skin.
He suddenly pictured Meghan on the massage table and wished he could trade places with the masseuse. The image of her lying naked before him and moaning softly filled his mind.
Her tawny skin would be as warm and pliant as silk from his caresses. His hands would grip her shoulders, rub her back, then knead her thighs. He’d lean over to find out how that smooth, soft flesh tasted….
Alex groaned in frustration. He ducked his head under the shower spray to wash his thoughts away along with the shampoo. Turning the shower dial to cold, he stood under the freezing spray until his raging lust was under control.
7
I stare at our reflection in the mirror as Nick cups my breasts. My nipples harden against his palm. I watch my skin warm under his fingers, feel the echoing heat in my belly…
MEGHAN CLOSED HER DIARY and placed it beside her on the sofa. Tucking her feet under her, she stared blindly out the window. She’d never felt so aware of herself as a woman. Her body hummed with the sweetly aching need Nick had aroused in her. Leaning back against the cushions, she closed her eyes.
She brushed one index finger over her mouth. The sensitive skin tingled at the memory of his lips pressing against hers. Her breasts grew heavy as she imagined his large hands gliding over them. She slipped her hand beneath her T-shirt, her breathing shallow, her body tingling.
Gently squeezing the pliant flesh, she stroked her thumb over the erect nipple, eliciting a shiver. She gasped, enjoying the sensation her fingers created. For a moment she considered taking the edge off, but she’d done that too often lately.
Meghan opened her eyes and sighed as she pulled her shirt back into place. A mere fantasy couldn’t compete with the desire Nick had unleashed in her. She wanted to use his gorgeous body in the most erotic ways, to make him moan and beg for her touch. Now that she’d tasted paradise in his kiss, she wanted to devour it until this new hunger was satisfied.
Maybe next she’d ask Nick to make some of her fantasies come true. She broke into a self-conscious grin recalling some of the things she’d written over the years. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t ask him. Her fantasy life was pretty dynamic, her diary filled with visions she’d never dare tell another soul.
She inhaled sharply, her brows drawing together in a frown.
Meghan looked down at the green paisley diary beside her. She’d written the last entry in the blue one when she arrived at Cayo Sueño. This was her new diary, the one she started after Julie left yesterday.
Where was the old one?
SHOW TIME.
As he waited for Meghan, Alex saw Rogelio Braga get off the shuttle launch from Key West. His stomach clenched against the nausea. Braga recognized him, too, and headed in his direction. Apprehension hit him at the same time as the adrenaline. Alex shoved his hands into his pockets, clenching his fists to still the fine tremors.
I’ve got this. I’m in control.
He inhaled deeply and struggled to slip into the mask of his cover. Dammit, it shouldn’t be this hard to shift gears. He’d played the role before. The persona wasn’t an easy one for him, given his physical looks and size, but he had the skills to pull it off. He had to pull it off.
Within seconds, “Nicholas Alexander” stood on the pier while his prospective employer approached. Shoulders hunched to reduce his profile, he affected a slick grin and a weaselly attitude. He changed his speech pattern to match his identity, talking faster in an eager tone.
“Señor Braga, it’s good to see you again, sir. I was looking for you last night so I could thank you for your generous gift.”
Braga took the hand he offered in greeting. His grasp was mild, in keeping with the Latin custom, but still a reminder that power isn’t always physical. “It was the least I could do. I’m very pleased that you like the wine.”
“I do, Señor Braga. I hope you’ll accept my invitation to drink it with me. Maybe when we close our deal?” Alex smiled to show his deference even as he pushed for an answer.
Braga crooked two fingers, indicating they should walk further along the pier. “Tell me, Nicholas. What do you plan to offer Frankie Ramos?”
A bullet through the heart. With effort, Alex pushed aside thoughts of the dead informant, the murdered agent and revenge. He mentally sorted the information he had on file. His reply had to be in keeping with his role as a finance geek, but still further the case.
“There are hundreds of ways to provide the services your organization requires. Before I can give you an answer, I’ll need to know more. Such as where different assets are located, how they’re currently transferred. Then we can discuss what avenues are available and which ones can be explored.”
“Vagueness has its place and, while I do appreciate your discretion. I need for you to be candid. What can you do that our other bankers have not?”
“Nick Alexander” was being tested. Braga’s intense expression revealed the importance of his answer. Go for it. Alex decided to admit some of his knowledge of the cartel’s operations.
“Your small-scale thinking has to be replaced with a global mentality, señor. Turning small dirty bills into boxes of large denominations takes time, space and risk. Moving actual cash out of the country in private planes is—”
“Unsophisticated.” Braga shook his head, as if criticizing the stupidity of this, though he didn’t voice the opinion. “It does, however, allow us to maintain some privacy regarding our financial transactions.”
Alex nodded, trying to act like he was anxious to earn the ten percent commission the cartel would pay his brokerage firm. “Keeping the government out of your business is vital. There are some exemptions from the currency reporting laws. Loopholes, if you will.”
“I will, as soon as you tell me how.”
Bright yellow. The color caught Alex’s attention and he glanced over Braga’s shoulder. Meghan was strolling along the pier toward the ferry. She hadn’t spotted him yet, but it was only a matter of time.
“I am not a man who forgets a favor. Or a slight.” Braga smiled thinly.
Alex flicked his gaze back, alerted by the nuance in Braga’s voice. Concentrate on the job, the girl can wait. “You have too much money here in the States. That capital needs to be released into the international banking system. That’s where I come in.”
Braga laughed, appreciating his obvious bid for inclusion. “If you can bring our laundering operations into the twenty-first century, you will take part in the organization’s future. I will see to it personally.”
His tone was casual. Not so the look in his eyes. Braga obviously had big plans—Alex didn’t need it engraved and hand-delivered. The head of the Miami cartel, Frankie Ramos, was going down and Braga planned to push him under.
MEGHAN SEARCHED the marina for Nick. She caught sight of a tall, dark haired man and assumed no one else would wear that ugly bright orange-and-green floral shirt. Or fill it out so well.
He stood talking with a familiar-looking Latino man. She couldn’t see their faces, but their body language seemed a bit clandestine. Wondering about the odd scene, she watched them shake hands before the other man walked away.
Nick seemed preoccupied when she approached. That wouldn’t do at all. Giving in to a naughty impulse, she reached around to pinch his rear. He started, looking down at her in wide-eyed amazement. Then his surprise gave way to amused pleasure. She shrugged unapologetically.
“I couldn’t resist.”
“You’re starting early, Trouble.”
He’d called her that last night as well. In the Foster family, she’d always been the good girl. He only used the term to tease her, but Meghan still got a little thrill from hearing it. She finally had a cool nickname.
“So, what were you and that guy talking about?”
