Dangerous Curves

Home > Romance > Dangerous Curves > Page 3
Dangerous Curves Page 3

by Karen Anders


  “What were you after there?” Max asked.

  “I was on a mission.”

  “For the DEA?” Max shifted his broad shoulders so he was turned toward her.

  “I can’t divulge any information about why I was there,” Rio said, crossing her legs and looking away from his bright blue eyes. She had no intention of getting into this type of discussion with Max. Keep It Simple, Stupid was her motto.

  “Evasive answers, but I didn’t expect any less from a field agent.”

  “And your pursuit of the Ghost. Is that sanctioned?” Rio opened up her packet of peanuts and popped one into her mouth.

  “You are aware I can’t divulge any information about an open case.”

  “Good answer,” she said. “But I didn’t expect any less from a field agent.”

  He smiled then, and it wasn’t any less powerful this time around than it had been in the lavatory. His entire aura changed when he did that. He looked like a troublemaker and those types always dragged the unsuspecting into their shenanigans.

  “I guess we know where we stand here.”

  “I guess we do,” she agreed. He was already sorely testing her sense of balance. Their chance bond was as unexpected as it was unwanted. At least on her end. She didn’t mind him being more approachable, but she could ill afford to let herself become more attracted to him. Letting anyone get close right now would be a major risk. Besides, her time here was limited, so what was the point? All she had to do was resist temptation. Very potent temptation.

  Putting the mission at the forefront of her mind, she worked to keep the conversation teasing, but controlled. “If you were going to Hawaii on vacation, what would you do?”

  “Windsurf, surf and snorkel.”

  “Water sports. Did you spend a lot of time at the beach?”

  He laughed, and she had to note his charm was much more lethal when he was amused. “I wish. I come from a small town you’ve probably never heard of—Covina.”

  “I know that city. It’s just outside L.A. and isn’t connected to the freeway. So that would mean you were landlocked. Bummer.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Big fan of Joan Jett. She went to high school there.”

  “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a hard-rocking babe.”

  “I was, to the detriment of my parents. Shane didn’t help. He bought me her CDs.”

  “Where is your family now?” Max asked.

  “Gone. Car accident, almost four years ago now, during a trip to Monterey. Bad brakes.”

  “I’m very sorry,” he said, quite sincerely. For all his dark intensity, he had a very warm, soothing tone to his voice. It made a person want to lean closer.

  She nodded and shifted away. It was an easier physical shift than the mental one she really needed to make. “Thank you. I am, too. I miss them very much.” She put on a smile.

  Thankfully, he didn’t press any further. It was going to be difficult enough being around him and keeping her guard up. The less they shared the better. It was just…a lot harder than she’d expected it would be. In less than a few hours, he’d already learned more about her than the people she worked next to all day, and had for the time she’d been in the DEA.

  She looked out the window just as the captain came on the intercom and hit the seat-belt sign. They were coming in for a landing in Maui.

  Let the games begin.

  THE DEA HAD GOTTEN THEM a suite located at the end of the hotel with close exits. Clothes were already hung in the closet for both of them.

  Rio merely glanced at the standard two queen beds in the room. But the sight of the two beds disappointed her.

  “You gotta love the DEA. They’re as good as Triple A.”

  Max chuckled as he looked over the clothing, nodding at what he found. “Shorts and loud shirts. What else?”

  Rio picked up the backpack she’d ordered and immediately started stuffing it with essentials.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I always have a flee bag in case I have to run.”

  “I’m sure that comes in handy in some of the situations you’ve been in.”

  “It has and has saved my life quite a few times. I’m going to change into a suit and go sit on the beach. I need to soak up some sun.”

  He shrugged. “Sounds good. Are you hungry?”

  She turned toward him. There was hunger there and it was all hot and heavy in his eyes. Hungry was an understatement.

  She rolled her eyes. “No, not right now.” But his smile was one of pure fun and mischief, and she wished like hell it didn’t make her want to be just as mischievous in return. Wouldn’t it shock him if she sauntered over to the bed and simply took him down to the mattress for the next few hours? The images that immediately played through her now-feverish mind made her turn firmly toward the closet instead. She skimmed over the array of clothing hanging in front of her and had to give it to the DEA personnel who’d done the shopping. Everything she needed was there. She pulled out a sexy red bikini and rolled her eyes. Could they have been any more blatant? She headed to the bathroom to change. She did manage to pull herself together enough to pause before stepping inside.

  She looked back at him. “I had a snack on the plane and it’s filled me right up.”

  “Sure you don’t need help with the ribs?”

  She smiled. “No, it’s nice and snug. You did such a good job in the airplane lavatory.”

  He sighed and his eyes never left her until she closed the door.

  She didn’t know whether to laugh or bang her head against the wall. If she thought it would knock some sense into her, she would have started banging away. But that amused and tempting look on his face only made her laugh.

  “I learn fast.”

  She jumped. His voice was close and only flimsy wood separated them.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less of a field agent.”

  His laugh was rich, and deep, and so incredibly sexy she closed her eyes to keep from jerking the door open and having her way with him. She removed the pressure bandage around her ribs and breathed deeply. Okay, still a little sore, but not bad. The bruises weren’t pretty, but they’d begun to fade. She quickly pulled on the red bikini and the white eyelet cover-up. Now this was an outfit that would entice him. The eyelet framed her generous breasts and the hem came down to the tops of her thighs.

  She slipped her feet into a pair of black flip-flops, and then looked in the mirror. She looked pale and drawn. Sun would really help to revitalize her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a vacation. Consumed with her job of bringing down Fuentes, she’d neglected to take time to renew and regenerate. Well, these two weeks would serve as her vacation. She was in Hawaii with a delicious and delectable man. So, she had to give up a little bit of herself for the job. It would be easy with Max.

  Her first instinct was to stay where she was to avoid the pull of him, but that would be detrimental to her mission. So, instead of remaining out of his line of sight and out of his reach, she approached him and let him get a load of her outfit. She even went so far as to run her fingers down the swell of her breasts to draw his eyes right where she wanted them. Distract and conquer. Male hormones were her ally here.

  “Nice view,” he said.

  “As I said, the DEA is as good as Triple A. There’s nothing like the ocean,” she said, turning to him and running her hand through her hair.

  Her little strategy with the eyelet worked to perfection. When he glanced over his shoulder, he did a double take that heated her body and tingled her senses. This was going to be a problem if she couldn’t separate her own desire from this seduction. She’d have to work harder at that.

  “Yeah, I’ll say.” He was making it clear that he was referring not to the view below, but to the one standing in front of him. It was like taking candy from a baby. Still, Max was a mission and nothing more, despite the fact that her body definitely wanted more.

  “So, I guess we
should begin Mission Laze About.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Making sure they had their key cards, they exited the room and headed down to the lobby. They proceeded to the back of the hotel and the brightly colored cabana chairs located at the pool and on the sand, affording the lounger a glorious view of the sea-green ocean.

  Out of habit, as they approached the lobby, Rio did a quick scan. A man was trying to settle down a rambunctious child, a woman was using a tiny compact to put on her lipstick and a burly man walked away from the front desk toward the elevator. A sense of danger coiled within her. Did she know this guy from one of her missions? Her brain was fuzzy.

  “What’s wrong?” Max asked.

  “I think I recognized someone, but I can’t place where.” She felt annoyed and awkward with the information inside her head that wasn’t accessible. The damn drugs they gave her, along with the conk on the head, made her second-guess herself. She hated second-guessing herself.

  “Want me to check it out?”

  “No, he never even looked in this direction. I’m sure it’s nothing, just my overactive imagination running away with me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, let’s go to the beach.”

  The day was warm and the feel of the sun on her skin made her sigh. She found a beach chair tucked in to a small cove a little ways from the main part of the hotel and sank down into it. Pulling suntan lotion out of her bag, she turned to Max.

  “Could you do my back?”

  “I’ll do anything you want me to, especially when it comes to your body. I’m supposed to be guarding it.”

  She smiled. “Such a dedicated agent.”

  He straddled the cabana chair and patted the seat. Rio got comfortable and handed him the lotion. “Rub it in good. I don’t want to burn,” she said a bit breathlessly as his palms flattened on her back and started to rub and slide upward. Her eyes closed as his big, clever hands moved from the small of her back to her shoulders and then down her arms.

  “How’s that?” he murmured, his mouth next to her ear. Then he drew his hands down her arms, making her skin tingle at the warm contact.

  She had to work to keep still and not arch into his hands as he rubbed. His knuckles barely brushed the swell of her breasts as his hands continued up and down her arms. Her nipples tightened almost painfully, wanting contact that wasn’t appropriate even for this sparsely populated beach. The lack of direct stimulation was almost more erotic than if he’d teased and tweaked her.

  He moved then and she felt momentarily bereft. But he was soon kneeling in the warm sand and adding more lotion to his hands. “Lift your leg,” he ordered.

  He massaged his thumbs into the muscles of her legs, digging his fingers in lightly along her inner thigh, before continuing down around her calf. He carefully moved around every bruise, cut and abrasion with gentle ease. When he cupped her foot, she made a soft gasp. Feeling his hands mold every curve of her body, except those that craved his touch most, was far more stimulating than she’d ever imagined. One thing his slow, methodical journey had accomplished was to dismantle her ability to think about anything other than where he was going to touch her next.

  It was hard not to be restless, to move her torso, shift her limbs, in an effort to ease the ache that had pervaded her every muscle and pore.

  He teased his fingertips along the arch of her foot. A dark brow rose over one of those disarming, see-everything eyes of his as he moved to her other leg and slathered more lotion, using his hands to massage it into her skin. He rose and gently did her face, neck and upper chest, brushing tantalizingly close to the swell of her breasts.

  He rubbed his thumb along his hard jaw in an absent caress, studying her from across the expanse of space separating them. “My turn,” he said softly and removed his shirt.

  Rio stared and for a moment had to pay homage to the muscle gods. He wasn’t just muscular. He was honed to a hard, cutting edge. Her fingers itched to touch him. If he’d been a sword, he’d have been a killing blade.

  His wide, hard chest tapered down to a taut waist with the definition of those knee-melting oblique muscles fully defined.

  When she didn’t move, he held out the bottle of lotion. “Come on, you’re not afraid of me, are you?”

  “Should I be?”

  “Depends on the situation and circumstances,” he said, giving her the distinct impression he was testing her, though she had no idea why. “Yes or no?”

  Her heart beat hard in her chest, the thrill of the forbidden heightening her anticipation. “No, I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Let’s get going before I burn.”

  Rio was coming to realize Max Carpenter was a take-no-prisoners kind of guy both in the field and in his personal life.

  He stood there casually, so utterly male, so intensely sexual without trying to be, while waiting for her to obey his command. The challenge in his gaze was entirely unapologetic, as if he had every right to be confident. As if he knew she found his calm self-assurance not only a challenge, but a huge turn-on as well.

  He was right.

  “Now that would be a terrible shame.”

  She could only imagine what he had in mind for her, but she was ready for anything. Anticipation swirled low in her belly and, unable to resist his allure, she tugged on his wrist and pulled him down onto the cabana chair. She had used her sexuality while in the field, playing a brazen, fearless vixen and a sweet ingenue ripe for a sexual fling, but with Max, she couldn’t help being herself.

  “Turn around,” she demanded and he complied. She squeezed a generous amount of the lotion onto her palms and rubbed them together. Placing her hands on his wide, ripped back, she smoothed in the lotion with circular strokes. He felt deliciously warm and sleek, exceptionally hard in all the right places, and she savored his virile strength as she moved across his broad shoulders. When she switched to the nape of his neck, his silky dark curls tickled the back of her hand, and it was his turn to gasp. That small sound twisted her insides like one of the pretzels they sold on the boardwalk.

  Ignoring the twinge in her ribs, she rose and went to face him. “It would be easier if you stood while I do your chest.”

  “I can take care of my chest just fine,” he said, reaching for the lotion in her hand.

  “So can I,” she said, jerking the bottle away from him. She could lie to herself right now and say this was part of the seduction plan she was weaving around him, but Rio tried to keep herself on the straight and narrow. She wanted to touch him, needed to touch him, had to touch him.

  He sighed and spread his hands, but his eyes twinkled. She was once again struck by how incessantly blue they were. It was like staring into an endless sea, sparkling with sunlight. “Have at it, then.”

  “Ah, you give up way too easily.”

  “What can I say? I’m easy.”

  “Ha. I doubt that.”

  “Then give me the bottle. I say if you want something done right, do it yourself.”

  “You’d have to get it,” she said with a challenge.

  He grabbed her around the waist, careful of her ribs, but her laughter gusted out as she switched hands and kept the bottle away, hurting her ribs anyway.

  Jockeying for position, he reached for the bottle again, but Rio used her foot to trip him and almost got away. She got tangled up in him and they both fell to the sand, laughing like fools.

  Then their eyes met and Rio felt a magnetic pull and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Panic engulfed her, spread through her like wildfire with a warning. Danger. She laughed again and broke eye contact. Standing awkwardly, she handed him the bottle of lotion.

  “You win. Here you go.”

  She was a confident woman who handled her affairs, both private and public, with relative ease. But this man had so totally made her a wanton. All the people who had been close to her were dead. No one had tapped in to her core as he had done, and he’d done so almost effortlessly. A moment ago, s
he had let down her barriers, actually been herself and not a role she was playing.

  She tried her best to appear unaffected and coolly in control as she walked back to her cabana chair and settled into it.

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see him still lying in the sand looking at the bottle as if it could give him answers to her switch in mood.

  She didn’t want him to get to know her more intimately. She’d had enough of relationships that ended badly and this setup would end in two weeks. Keeping things strictly physical was the only way there could be anything between them.

  And that sounded like one of the toughest missions she’d ever undertaken in her life.

  3

  MAX SAT IN THE SAND with the lotion bottle in his hands and asked himself what the hell he was doing. He felt almost as if he’d been released from a spell.

  It seemed that ever since he’d met Rio Marshall his focus went by the wayside, and it wasn’t like him. Damn hormones.

  The truth of the matter was he’d decided to go along with her and see where it took him. If it took him inside Rio, he wouldn’t complain.

  He rose. Glancing over at her, he saw she’d closed her eyes. Was it meant to shut him out or was she just tired from the flight and the tussle with him? She did look drawn, her skin tone a bit gray.

  But the rest of her. Jeez. The rest of her was perfect. His life couldn’t possibly be this complicated or this crazy. He should be in his office at the FBI, hot on the trail of the Ghost. He shouldn’t have been pulled off his active cases and given this P Triple-A job—Protect Another Agent’s Ass. He looked away.

  He was all for interdepartmental cooperation, but there were other guys, veteran guys who would have been better suited to babysit Rio Marshall. Max had to ask himself again. Why him?

  “You are going to hurt yourself over there,” Rio murmured.

 

‹ Prev