by Rita Herron
Detective Muller gripped her arms. “Stay put!”
Marci was shaking too badly to do anything else. “Where are you going?”
“To see where that shot came from.” He pushed her down further, then peered around the SUV.
A dark sedan screeched into traffic, rubber peeling as it darted in front of a Marta bus and cut across four lanes of traffic.
“Dammit, that’s probably him.” He yanked his phone from his belt and called it in. “Put an APB on a black sedan, tinted windows, custom hubcaps.” His breathing rasped out. “No, I didn’t get the license plate.” He kicked the concrete with a curse.
“Pendergrass was driving a silver Lexus, headed south. Get units downtown on I-85 now!”
He heaved another breath, then two security guards rushed toward him, their faces shaken. “What’s going on?”
The detective flashed his badge, and gestured toward Marci. Marci’s heart drummed so hard she thought it was going to beat out of her chest. The couple from the SUV slowly eased up from the floor where they’d been hiding.
“Is it safe now?” the teenager asked through the open window.
“Yes,” Detective Muller said. He motioned to Marci to indicate that it was safe.
She stood slowly, her mind racing as she walked over to him. The spectators and staff, began congregating like rubberneckers, the guards corralling the crowd under control.
Another police car screeched up, and the female cop who’d been so rough on her during the interrogation jumped out and hurried toward them. “Did you see the shooter, Muller?”
Detective Muller shook his head. “No, the windows were tinted. Did you see his face, Marci?”
“No.” Marci frowned, upset at Paul and the situation.
Just how had the detective gotten there so quickly?
He glanced at her then nodded toward his partner. “Georgia, take the guards and question everyone here. Maybe someone saw the shooter’s face and we can ID him. I’m going to drive Miss Turner home.”
Marci stiffened, dreading the inquisition.
*~*~*~*
Cade wanted to stay and question the crew in the parking lot himself. Hell, he wanted to get in the car and chase Pendergrass and that shooter.
But he was only one man and he couldn’t do it all.
Marci needed protection.
She was definitely in danger.
And that trumped even finding Pendergrass.
That thought of her being hurt sent a frisson of fear through him that he had no business feeling. Dammit, she looked fragile and vulnerable and could have been killed.
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and promise her everything would be all right, that he’d protect her and put Pendergrass away for getting her involved in this mess.
But the fear he’d seen in her eyes moments ago quickly morphed into anger. Was she angry at Pendergrass for deserting her again, or angry at him for doing his job?
Hell, she should be thanking him. He’d saved her life while Pendergrass did what he did best -- left someone else holding the bag.
He shrugged off her animosity. It didn’t matter if she was mad at him. She was the key to Pendergrass, and he needed to get her in the clear just in case the shooter had a partner. “Come on, Marci.”
She dug in her heels and clutched that duffel bag to her like it was a security blanket. “No thanks. I have my car.”
A curse word floated to the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. He should confiscate that duffel bag and turn it in for evidence. Instead he forced himself to remain calm. They might need the money later to set a trap.
“I’ll have a uniform drop off your VW.”
“No,” Marci said yanking her arm from his grip. “I refuse to be stuck without transportation.”
“Marci, listen to me,” Cade said between clenched teeth. “I could haul your pretty little ass in right now for aiding and abetting a felon.”
She gaped at him. “But I wasn’t –“
“You most certainly were, sweetheart.” He gave a pointed look at the duffel bag. “You’re holding stolen cash that you were handing off to a wanted man on the run from the law.”
Her face paled, but he had to drive home his point. “For all we know that shooter may come back or have a partner watching us now. Either he wants Pendergrass, that money, or both, and he’s obviously willing to kill to get it.”
The air seemed to whoosh from her lungs, the fight leaving her.
He led her to his car and rushed her into the passenger seat.
Marci folded her arms as Georgia approached, and he closed the car door so she wouldn’t hear his conversation.
“What did she say?” Georgia asked.
Cade hedged. “Nothing, yet, but she’s going to talk when I get her home.” He noted the guards still working the crowd. “Did anyone see anything?”
“Nothing helpful but we’ll keep trying.” She gestured at Marci. “You should arrest her again,” Georgia said tightly.
“She’s more valuable to us out of jail,” he said in a low voice. “Pendergrass wants her help, wants money he left behind. He didn’t get it today so he’ll call back.”
Georgia cut her eyes toward Marci, then pursed her lips. “That had better be the reason you’re not taking her in. You know she’s cunning and clever and will use that body to get her way.”
Her accusation made him ball his hands into fists. The insane urge to defend Marci’s honor traipsed through him.
The trouble was that he wanted his way with Marci.
But he couldn’t succumb to temptation. “Don’t worry about me. Just do what you can to track down Pendergrass’s car and the shooter’s. I’ll convince Marci to help us set a trap for her fiancé.”
Georgia gave him a lopsided grin. “Now you’re talking. You charm her into doing what you want, not the other way around.”
Cade gave a clipped nod, although as he climbed in the driver’s seat and Marci scorched him with her eyes, he doubted he’d be charming the woman into anything.
*~*~*~*
Marci wanted to hate the detective, but how could she hate someone who had saved her life? For goodness sake, he had put himself in the line of fire to protect her.
If he wasn’t trying to convict her of a crime she hadn’t committed, she might actually like the man.
No, no, no, that’s too dangerous. He’s just using you like other men have.
Like Paul had.
Her stomach lurched.
She wanted to believe that Paul really was innocent, but why would someone be shooting at her, at him, if he was?
And if he really loved her, would he have run away when the man shot at her, or would he have thrown himself in front of her to protect her like the mule-headed man next to her had?
Detective Muller’s gaze met hers, and she shivered.
Lord, he had intense eyes. Sexy eyes that a woman could drown in.
Then he dragged his gaze back to the mad scene in the Varsity parking lot, started the engine and pulled into traffic, and she latched onto her anger.
She could not fantasize about how sexy the cop was, or how much she wanted him to pull her into his arms and hold her when he still thought she was either a criminal -- or a fool.
Antsy, she twisted her fingers around the strap of the duffel bag. He cut his eyes toward the bag then back at her.
“You know giving that stolen money to Pendergrass is enough for the judge to revoke your bail and send you back to jail until the trial.”
A shudder coursed up her spine. “What if I had another agenda?”
“Like what? You were going to bring him in yourself?”
“Maybe I wanted the truth.”
His jaw clenched. “Now you have it. He left you – again.”
Did he have to keep rubbing her face in it? Her mind ticked over what he’d said, and her anger resurfaced. “How did you know there was money in the bag?”
He released a weary sigh, but he didn’t answer
. He simply maneuvered the turns to her apartment complex, the tension mounting between them.
But the details of the past hour taunted her. She’d sensed someone was following her when she’d gone to the gym. And he’d been at the Varsity when the shots had rung out.
Which couldn’t have been a coincidence.
“You were following me, weren’t you?” Which meant she definitely looked even more guilty in his eyes now.
“What do you think?” he asked, his own voice tinged with anger.
Marci crossed her arms, fuming. “It’s not how it appears.”
He arched a brow, disgust in his eyes. “Isn’t it? Your boyfriend calls and you run to get his money and take it to him.”
Marci’s heart pounded. “How did you know he called me?”
Guilt registered in his expression for a second before he masked it.
“Good grief, you tapped my phone, didn’t you?”
He parked the car, then turned toward her, his hands knotting and unknotting on the console between them. The fact that he didn’t deny her accusation confirmed she was right.
“I can’t believe it. You listened to my phone calls?”
“You’re a suspect in an ongoing investigation, Marci. Besides, it’s not like you’ve exactly been cooperating.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Marci cried. “Isn’t it against the law to bug someone’s phone?”
“You want to talk to me about the law?” He pushed his face into hers. “If you’re innocent, then why didn’t you tell me about the phone call?”
Marci had to get out of the car before she hit him. Or threw up on him. Or both.
She reached for the door handle, but he caught her arm. “Why, Marci? I’m not the enemy. Why didn’t you tell me so I could help you?”
She fidgeted. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think his voice sounded …hurt.
But that was ridiculous.
“You say you’re not the enemy, but you’re trying to put me back in jail,” she answered.
He shook his head, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead.
Crap. She wanted to touch it and push it back. Run her hand over the beard stubble grazing his jaw. See if those lips tasted as sinful as they looked.
“That’s not true,” he said softly. “Finding Pendergrass is my job.”
“Your job means spying on me?”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d trust me.”
“Trust you?” She yanked free of his touch and emitted a sarcastic laugh. “Maybe I wanted to find out myself if Paul was telling the truth,” she shot back. “Then again, maybe you and that female cop are right. I’m just some stupid bimbo that was so desperate for attention that I fell for a con artist and did whatever he asked me to do.”
Shaking with hurt and anger, she shoved open the door, jumped out and ran across the parking lot. Footsteps pounded the pavement behind her. Drat! She’d forgotten that duffel bag full of money.
Real smart. She’d just handed him the evidence to hang her.
But she didn’t care right now. All she wanted to do was get inside her apartment away from him.
Because Lord help her, she wanted to trust him.
But how could she trust a man again when all they did was use her?
*~*~*~*
Cade raced after Marci, hauling the duffel bag with him. She clattered up the steps, oblivious to the fact that the shooter might know where she lived and be waiting to ambush her.
Blasted woman. She was driving him crazy.
Just as he made it to the top of the landing, she slammed the door shut. He heard her fiddling with the lock, but he didn’t give her time to lock it.
He busted in and threw the duffel bag on the floor. She squealed and pushed at him, but he grabbed her and forced her to look at him. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Marci.”
“That’s what your girlfriend said,” Marci cried.
He frowned, then realized she meant Georgia. “She’s not my girlfriend, she’s my partner. Interrogating people is part of the job.”
“Your job,” Marci spat out. “Your job is to harass people and make them feel like idiots and spy on them. What else did you do besides tap my phone? Did you put cameras in my house?” She pinned him with a look of outrage. “You did, didn’t you?” She jammed her hands on her hips. “Did you get your jollies watching me in the shower?”
“Stop it,” he said, his heart hammering. He couldn’t stand the hurt in her eyes any longer. “We did not install cameras in your apartment and I didn’t watch you in the bathroom, much less the shower.”
Although he’d like to see her in the shower. Hell, he’d like to get in the shower with her.
But she was a suspect.
“But you think I’m just some dumb idiot, that I helped Paul -- ”
“No.” He pressed a finger to her lip to silence her. “Listen to me, Marci, I’m sorry for the things Georgia said, that she was rough on you. I’m sorry I was tough on you, too.” His damn voice cracked, his gaze latching onto her lips.
That trembling chin. She was trying hard not to cry now.
Her show of bravado twisted his insides like nothing had.
“I really do want to help you,” he said, lowering his voice.
A small sob caught in her throat.
God help him. She looked so sweet, so desperate for him to believe her, that he did.
And he couldn’t resist her any longer.
He pulled her up against him, then closed his mouth over hers and kissed her.
*~*~*~*
He studied the camera with a smirk. Well, well, well, that cop Muller was busy working this case. He’d almost taken a bullet for the prissy little Marci Turner but now he was about to get in her pants.
His phone jangled and he chewed the inside of his cheek. His boss wouldn’t be happy Pendergrass had escaped again.
But he had to answer him sometime, so he punched connect.
“God dammit, that shooting at the Varsity is all over the news. You moron, you almost shot Marci Turner.”
He frowned. “So, you asked me to watch her to get to Pendergrass, and the broad had a bag of cash in her hands.”
“I don’t care,” he barked. “I want Pendergrass, but I don’t want murder charges on my head.”
“I wasn’t going to kill her,” he said, “I was just trying to scare her into dropping the bag. Then I was going to go after Pendergrass when he snatched it.”
“Listen to me. I do want Pendergrass, but I do not want Marci hurt. Understand?”
He shifted, irritation making him grind his teeth. “Yes, sir.”
A tense pause. “Now where are you?”
“Watching her apartment now?”
“She’s safe?”
He chuckled. “Safe in the arms of that cop.”
Another tense silence. “What?”
He made a harrumph sound. “They’re tongue dancing right now.”
A curse rumbled over the line.
“You want me to take care of the cop?” he asked.
“No,” his boss said. “I will. Find Pendergrass first. Then I’ll deal with Marci and Detective Muller.”
CHAPTER TEN
Marci’s pulse fluttered as she parted her lips for Cade’s invasion.
And invade her he did.
His tongue traced her lower lip, then he deepened the kiss, so deep her legs buckled at the intense desire rushing to her head. He threaded one hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and trailed the other one down to pull her body closer to his.
“Detective – ”
“It’s Cade,” he whispered against her ear. “Call me Cade.”
“Cade, what are we doing?”
“Kissing,” he said then cupped her breast in his hand.
Hot need flared inside her at his husky voice, and she clung to his arms, tasting him just as he tasted her. His breath brushed her cheek as he left her mouth to trace kisses along her ear and jaw
, then down her neckline. She curled into him, her hands finding a sensual journey over his chorded muscled back, one dropping to cup his butt.
He was all hard planes and muscles, all masculine heat and fire in one big man. She wanted more.
She wanted all of him.
She had never felt this raging rush of passion when Paul had kissed her.
The realization both frightened her and made her claw at Cade’s shirt. She wanted to see his bare chest, feel those muscles bunch as she raked her tongue over his skin.
Then lower…
He moaned and suckled at her neck, then ripped her sweatshirt over her head.
She had on too many clothes and so did he.
She shoved at his jacket and it hit the floor, but his gun bulged between them.
So did his thick sex which was wedged between her thighs.
She wanted the pleasure he could give her. Wanted him lying naked with her between the sheets, kissing her and stroking her and making her come alive.
She wanted him inside her.
He seemed to want the same thing, because his frenzied movements continued and he tore at her blouse, then ripped the buttons off. Cool air brushed her breasts and her nipples puckered as his mouth raked her skin.
She was burning up, on fire, and he was the only one with the power to extinguish the flame.
Except he was stoking the flames now, the need growing stronger as he licked her neck, then pushed her bra aside and sucked one nipple into her mouth.
She groaned and tugged at his shirt, but his gun nudged her belly, and he tensed. Then her phone jangled, the sound like a bomb ticking in the room as it trilled.
Slowly he pulled back, but he didn’t release her. Instead his stormy gaze met hers. The passion and hunger she saw sent a shiver of feminine want through her.
But the phone trilled again, and he pulled her shirt together. Regret warred with need as his husky breathing echoed in the tension between them. “You should answer that.”
Disappointment flooded her. He was back to being the cop, not Cade the man who’d turned her inside out with his kisses.
