A Perfect Storm

by Lori Foster

  Ignoring the crude words, Trace tracked his gaze over her, and then slowly closed his eyes.

  “Damn, girl.” Jackson stripped off his jacket and tried to stuff Arizona into it. It left his gun exposed, but that wasn’t as bad as Arizona drawing so much attention.

  And given her outfit, her hair and makeup, she could do nothing else.

  Gone were the jeans in favor of a short—really short—faded denim miniskirt. A low-plunging black tank made a bra impossible and emphasized the round firmness of her substantial breasts. Little strappy sandals and big hoop earrings completed the outfit. But she hadn’t stopped there. Her pale blue eyes were a dominant feature on her, and now, with her lush lashes layered in black mascara and her lips a glossy pink, she looked…like a walking wet dream.

  Spencer scanned the area around them and saw that they had, in fact, drawn attention. “We need to move. Now.”

  Trace growled a complaint as Arizona fought Jackson’s efforts to conceal her. “This is going to be a cluster-fuck of the first order.”

  Arizona stopped struggling to say, “If I can’t cuss, you can’t, either.”

  And Spencer finally pulled himself together. “Did you leave anything in the room?”

  She lifted the duffel, laptop case and her purse. “I didn’t see any reason to come back here after we eat, so I’ve got it all here and in the trunk of my car.”

  That meant she didn’t have much. He frowned as he took the case from her, but knew he’d have to figure out the lack of personal possessions later. “We’ll head to dinner now.” After wresting the duffel away from her, too, he turned to Trace. “Could you—”

  “Check her out, yeah. Don’t worry about it. Get her well away from here before you stop to eat, though.”

  “Better still,” Jackson said, looking everywhere as if expecting hordes of men to descend on her, “take her through a drive-thru and eat in your car.”

  Clustered around her, shielding her from sight as much as they could, the men led her out of the motel and toward Spencer’s truck.

  “Stop shoving!” Arizona complained and pushed back against Jackson.

  Spencer inserted himself between them. He didn’t like Jackson cozying up so close to her. Besides, Arizona was usually more reasonable with him.

  Near to her ear, he said, “Hustle it up, honey. In case anyone comes looking for you later, the less notice we get, the better.”

  She dutifully marched ahead but continued to grouse. “You guys are the ones causing a scene.”

  “You aren’t that naive,” Trace told her.

  “Never said I was,” she snapped right back.

  “Then you know how you look.”

  At the passenger side of the truck, she turned and gave Trace a sultry look. “So I was successful?”

  Trace and Jackson both stared at her. At all of her.

  “For the love of…” Spencer opened the door and lifted her inside. “Knock it off, Arizona.” He knew neither man wanted to ogle her, but she made it pretty hard not to, especially when she struck a sexy pose.

  After slamming the door again, Spencer told them, “I’ll check in later.” He circled around the hood, got behind the wheel and drove off. He didn’t look back—and he did his best not to look at Arizona, either.

  CHAPTER NINE

  JACKSON FELT AS IF SOMEONE had just sucker punched him. He’d known Arizona had killer looks. Hell, he wasn’t blind or stupid. But it went beyond that. She had an innate sensuality that, with just a single glance, roped in a guy.

  If he wasn’t in love with Alani, if he didn’t know what Arizona had suffered, if he didn’t have a deep moral code that kept him from taking advantage, well…he’d have been tempted.

  With Trace silent beside him, they watched as Spencer and Arizona disappeared from sight. Still thunderstruck, he turned to look at Trace. Trace met his gaze, and he cracked.

  They both laughed for a moment before Jackson shook his head. “Did you fucking see that girl?”

  Reining in his humor, Trace said, “Would have been hard to miss.” He grinned again. “Spencer saw her, too.”

  “Yeah.” Jackson rubbed a hand over his head. “It’s going to get interesting.”

  “It’s going to go upside down.” He turned away.

  Jackson followed. “Arizona didn’t even seem to realize.”

  “All women realize.”

  “Cynical, Trace. Real cynical.” He shook his head. “Arizona is different.”

  “That’s an understatement.” He surveyed the yard, the motel, before getting into his unassuming sedan. “Let’s go before we lose them.”

  Jackson fastened his seat belt, then waited while Trace pulled out of the lot, keeping a discreet distance from Spencer. But it bothered him, chewing on his mind.

  He didn’t like for Arizona to underestimate her appeal, and he hated for her to use herself as bait. “She sees herself as a commodity, ya know?”

  Trace said nothing to that.

  “She thinks she’s a body with a price, but not so much as a woman with boner-inspiring sex appeal.”

  Trace glanced at him with a lifted brow.

  “Not my boner!” Good God, he’d turned her down, hadn’t he? “Hell, you know how I feel about Alani. I don’t want any other woman. I haven’t wanted anyone else since meeting her.”

  “Let’s don’t belabor the point.”

  Jackson paid no attention to Trace’s discomfort. “I mean, I can see if a woman’s sexy. I’m not blind. But I’m immune to—”

  That made Trace roll his eyes. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m not blind, either, so I know what you mean.”

  “My point is that Spencer’s going to have a time of it. Course, he’s not in love with anyone else, so he doesn’t have to feel guilty for paying attention.”

  “No,” Trace agreed, “but his conscience isn’t going to let him forget her past.”

  “Thank God.” Jackson shifted when they spotted Spencer’s truck up ahead, saying low, “If he did forget, I’d have to stomp on him. And all in all, I like him, so I’d rather it didn’t come to that.”

  “If you tried it, Arizona might have something to say about it.”

  “You think?”

  “We both noticed how Spencer reacted to her.” He glanced at Jackson. “But did you notice how she reacted to him?”

  Jackson thought about it, then groaned. “Yeah, you’re right. She walked past me to him—thank God. But know what?”

  Trace lifted his brows.

  Jackson grinned. “Now I sort of feel sorry for Spencer.”

  They both laughed over that.

  * * *

  ARIZONA WAITED AS LONG as she could. But truthfully, the silence was getting to her. “All right, give. What’s all the fuss about?”

  As Spencer pulled into a fast-food lot, he glanced at her. “You.”

  “What’d I do?”

  He got behind a line of cars waiting to put in orders. “You walked out looking like…” His gaze flickered over to her again. “That.”

  She adjusted the neckline of the top, tugging it a little lower, rearranging the neckline to display the most cleavage—and heard Spencer’s indrawn breath.

  With a roll of her eyes, she said, “Get a grip, Spence. You’ve seen low-cut tops before.”

  “Yeah, well…” He shifted uncomfortably. “There are low-cut tops, and there are low-cut tops.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You’re showing an awful lot.”

  “And you’ve seen plenty of boobs.”

  He groused something she didn’t catch.

  “If I look all prim and proper, or like my usual boring self in plain jeans and
a T-shirt, how effective would that be for getting attention? I want to make sure they notice me.”

  He gave a grunt of disbelief. “That’s not going to be a problem.”

  “So I look like a desperate little nympho? Like I’d be easy to pick up?”

  “You look…” He trailed off, shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “What?” She reached over and smacked his shoulder. “Come on. What were you going to say?”

  He gave her a long, slow perusal, then shrugged. “You look edible.”

  “Oh.” She wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Glad you approve.”

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Spencer stared out the windshield. As cars eased forward, he followed. When they were next in line, he asked, “What do you want to eat?”

  “Are you buying?”

  His sigh was long and dramatic. “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll take a cheeseburger, loaded, except for onion. Fries, and a strawberry milk shake.”

  He gave her a long look, then rolled the truck up to the window and doubled her order but made his milk shake chocolate. “We have some time to kill, so while we talk about the plan, we’ll ride to the park to eat.”

  “I think I have it all down, but sure, if you want to go over it again—”

  “I do.”

  He’d been a stickler about details, something she admired. “The park sounds nice, but won’t it be muddy?”

  “We’re staying in the truck.” He gave a nod at her bare legs. “I’m keeping you under wraps.”

  Disappointed that they wouldn’t get to enjoy the fresh air, she wrinkled her nose. “Considering I’ll soon be in a bar flaunting my wares, hiding now is sort of dumb, right?”

  “This plan is dumb. If it was up to me, we’d scrap it all now before anyone sees you.”

  Her plan was perfect! How dare he call it dumb?

  “But at least Dare agreed to come along to oversee things.”

  “Having Dare around is always a plus, but I figured you could handle it.”

  “If it was just me, if I didn’t have to worry about you, then sure. No problem. But anything could go wrong, and we have no idea how many thugs might be inside the bar.”

  “When I was there before, I only saw a few.”

  “Doesn’t mean there aren’t more. I can handle myself, and I’ve gotten out of plenty of sticky situations. But not with a woman along.” He flashed a hot glare her way. “And definitely not with a woman who looks like you.”

  She assumed he meant a woman who deliberately sought their attention. “Better safe than sorry, I guess.” The last thing she wanted was for Spencer to get hurt trying to protect her.

  “Exactly. So if Dare sends the code for us to get out, that’s what we’re doing. Got it?”

  “Sure.”

  “I mean it, Arizona. No arguments. No hesitation. Doesn’t matter what else might be happening.”

  “Yeah, got it. Don’t beat it into the ground.”

  Unconvinced, he scowled. “I’m serious. No matter what—”

  “I’m to turn tail and run the second you give the word. I got it already. Sheesh.”

  After a final long look, he rolled up to take his turn at paying for and collecting the food.

  She stewed in silence while he got his change and then pulled away.

  Though he kept stealing quick glances at her, he drove in silence, saying nothing for the longest time. That annoyed her, too, and finally she couldn’t take it. “You realize you’re playing the Neanderthal, right?”

  He pulled into the park, which was all but deserted this time of the day. “And you’re being naive.”

  “Ha!” That had to be a joke. “How naive can I be after—”

  “Damn it to hell, Arizona!” After jerking the truck into an isolated area and parking, he turned to face her. “Don’t say it.”

  Whoa. He looked really pissed, and that surprised her, but oddly, it sort of amused her. Putting on an innocent face, she asked, “Say what?”

  He opened his seat belt and leaned toward her. “Don’t put yourself down. Don’t throw up your past as an excuse to put yourself in danger. And don’t use the things that were forced on you as a way to demean yourself.”

  “Yeah, uh, the demeaning was forced on me—like you said.”

  His hand slashed the air. “And that’s over. That’s not who you are.” His gaze raked her body. “This isn’t who you are.”

  A slow burn started. She opened her seat belt, too, and leaned into his anger.

  Anger on her behalf.

  “Actually, it’s exactly who I am.” He started to speak, but she knotted a hand in his shirt and gave him a yank. “I am a vigilante, Spence. Get used to it.”

  “No.”

  “I’m strong and I’m smart,” she added. “And my plan is not dumb.”

  Something glittered in his eyes. Taunting her, he said, “You can’t even bear to have me kiss you. What the hell will you do when a stranger gets hold of you?”

  Her attention went to his mouth. Was he thinking about kissing her again? “You’re the one spewing taboo words.”

  Frustration escalating, he took her wrist, making her hold on his shirt redundant. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  She locked gazes with him and took great pleasure in saying, “I haven’t cussed, but you have.”

  “So? I already agreed to take you to Jackson’s wedding.” He shook his head. “And stop changing the subject.”

  “I will. Just as soon as I find out what your new penalty will be. After all, you’ve cussed twice. So I should get something, right?”

  Time stretched out, and new tension filled the air. “What do you want?”

  She was starting to want…a lot of things. Unusual things. Things she thought she’d never again accept, much less crave. His warm breath teased her mouth; she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.

  Dragging in a shuddering breath, she whispered, “I can bear it.”

  “You’re confusing the hell out of me, honey.”

  Nothing new there. Around Spencer, she even confused herself. “When you kiss me,” she spelled out. “I can bear it.”

  His thumb moved over the pulse in her wrist. “The way I’ve kissed you is not what I’m talking about.”

  “I know.” She rolled a shoulder. “But tonight will be a starting point, a get-to-know-you period. Odds are they’ll just check the boundaries, to see how much they can get away with.”

  “And if someone pushes past your comfort zone?”

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  He lifted her knuckles to his mouth, doing more of his specialized kissing, then put his forehead to hers. “Truthfully, Arizona, I have no doubt you can pull this off.”

  Matching his whisper, she said, “Then what’s the problem?”

  “If Terry Janes touches you, if he even looks at you funny, I might have to take him apart.” He stole a soft kiss from her mouth, taking her by surprise, then settled back into his seat. “And that’s a problem.”

  That quick, sweet smooch left her temporarily dazed. He’d done that so casually, as if they’d kissed a million times, and it took a moment for his words to sink in. She skipped past most of what he’d said—Spencer would be a professional, she had no doubt about that—to focus on the name he’d just given. “Terry Janes?”

  “I told you the bar was already on Trace’s radar.”

  No way. A little numb, she asked, “Terry is the guy running things? The tatted guy I already noticed?”

  Spencer nodded. “He works the place. We don’t know yet who’s running the show, though.”

  She really, really wanted to slug him. “And you just now
thought to tell me this?”

  “You,” he said, leaning toward her again, “snuck out on me. Otherwise we’d have hashed all this out after my shower.”

  Her fist trembled.

  “Do it.” Challenge, and something more, darkened his eyes. “I dare you.”

  It was soooo tempting to wipe that smirk off his face…but no. Why give him what he wanted?

  “I should. I could.” She checked a fingernail, the epitome of indifference. “But I’m not in my kick-ass clothes, and we have business later, so I can’t get mussed. I’m remembering our purpose for being here, even if you aren’t.”

  “It’d be tough to forget with you dressed like that.”

  He did seem hung up on her clothes. Arizona held her arms out to her sides and looked down at herself. “It’s tame compared to what the traffickers had me wear. I wasn’t sure if it was racy enough, but given how you keep going on, I guess it’s appropriate.”

  “I want to go on the record here.”

  “I’m listening.”

  Reaching out, he fingered the hem of her short skirt. His knuckles brushed the inside of her right thigh and stilled her pounding heartbeat. “You don’t need this.” He nodded at her top. “Or that. You can wear your jeans and a regular top of some kind, and I swear to you, every straight guy around will go on alert.”

  Interesting. “You’re sure of that?”

  “Positive.”

  “What if he’s a guy like Trace or Jackson—”

  “They noticed.” He trailed a fingertip over her knee…and then dropped his hand. “The difference is that they can appreciate how you look without thinking to take advantage of you, or put the make on you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Blowing out an exasperated breath, he looked out the window, studying the area around them. “Arizona…” He worked his jaw before stabbing her with a look of determination. “I’m going to have to insist.”

  “You’re doing a lot of that.”

  “Sorry, but I’m only a man, and I’m doing my best here.”

  She had no idea what he meant.

  “I don’t want to push you.”