by A. C. Arthur
“And nothing with women is easy,” Nick added. “Did I tell you about the one I was seeing a couple of weeks ago?”
“Which one was that? I lose count.” And he did. Nick loved women, and that was putting it mildly. And women loved him right back. As teenagers Rome would joke it was because of Nick’s pretty-boy good looks. Nick’s mother was from Panama, her family touring one of South America’s many rain forests when she met Nick’s African American father. So Nick has a golden complexion and wavy black hair. He paid more attention to his clothes and appearance than ten women, so he was always picture-perfect. And his bank account would make Donald Trump look like the designated homeless. Yet he didn’t flaunt his wealth, didn’t use it to gain what he wanted in life; he’d never had to.
They’d both been born in the Gungi rain forest in Brazil and relocated to the States with their parents at early ages. Rome and his parents to Florida and Nick, his parents, and his sister to Texas. The two of them were the same age, with only a two-month gap that made Rome the older. The decision to move to Washington, DC, had been made by their parents at the same time as well, when both boys were four years old.
What people usually didn’t see at first glance with Nick was that he was a vicious opponent when crossed—deadly, to be precise.
Rome could claim the same about himself, but he didn’t openly. Instead, his special breeding allowed him to be an astute attorney, winning cases because he had information that nobody else did. He used his other abilities to scent the lies, assess the damage, and strike quickly, efficiently. Nobody knew who or what he and Nick really were or what they were capable of. And they planned to keep it that way.
“Very funny. Speaking of which, when was the last time you had a date?”
“What’s the point?”
“The point would be to relieve some of that tension you carry around like luggage. Damn, man, you’re not that ugly.” He chuckled. “Get out and get some for a change.”
This was an old conversation between the two of them, and Rome could see exactly where Nick was coming from. They had great stamina. And their heightened senses made the sexual experience much more intense than that of humans. He enjoyed sex, made sure the women he decided to lie with enjoyed it also. Still, Rome didn’t partake as freely as Nick did. He couldn’t afford to.
“It’s not as important to me as it is to you.”
Nick simply nodded. “Okay, so you won’t mind if I go ask that sexy new employee out to dinner?”
Without a moment’s hesitation Rome said, “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” Each word was enunciated and spoken in the deep low timbre that more resembled a cat’s growl than a human voice.
Nick threw back his head and laughed. “Welcome back to the world of women, my friend.”
* * *
“There’s nothing here,” Kalina whispered into her cell phone.
“What do you mean nothing?” the voice on the other end asked.
It was a little after five and almost everyone on her floor was gone for the day. Each day Agent Jack Ferrell, her immediate supervisor on this case, called for a status update. In the beginning she’d thought that was strange since the previous cases she’d worked hadn’t involved Ferrell at all, even though he’d been at the MPD for almost thirty years. He was probably just nervous, watching her closely so that if she botched the investigation he could save face before the DEA brought down their entire unit. Besides, the DEA was really focusing on shutting down South American cartels. And if she could find the right information, she’d be a part of that resounding success. She would have done something extremely important, gaining a reason to be proud of herself in the process. She would be a part of something that changed the world, a huge accomplishment in her otherwise dismal life. Unfortunately, there was no one else in her life that could be proud of her as well.
“I’ve gone over all the records in QuickBooks dating back two years. I see the deductions, but the account they’re wired to is the same one we’ve already had reports on. It’s in the name of Roman Reynolds personally, and the deductions are written off the firm account as bonuses.”
“So he’s hiding additional income from the IRS?” Jack inquired.
“No.” She sighed, pushing the buttons on her keyboard to shut down her computer. “It’s all being reported. I have to tell you, Jack, he looks clean.”
“But he’s not!” he yelled into the phone.
For a second Kalina pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it. In all her years in law enforcement none of her superiors had ever used that tone with her; they’d never needed to. And she wasn’t so sure she liked it.
“Look, I think being here’s a bust,” she told him finally. She wasn’t quitting, she told herself, but the way she’d been feeling all afternoon since going to see Rome in his office bothered her. It wasn’t just lust. That she could deal with. She had more than enough toys at home to get her off, if it was only about release. But when he’d touched her, the way he’d looked at her—the heat moving between the two of them as if they were the only people in that room—was disconcerting. The remnants of those weird feelings stuck with her the remainder of the day, pulling her mind in different directions, causing what felt like ripples of something beneath her skin.
For whatever reason, she wanted to get away from Roman Reynolds. Far, far away.
“No! You’ve got to find something. I know it’s there. The account is located where?”
“Nova National Bank in Natal, Brazil.”
“Any movement on the money from there?”
“Some debits but they’re all made by him, for cash. There’s no telling what he did with the money when he took it out.” No ties to their known cartel contacts and no illegal dealings on record. Either Reynolds was super smart, or he was innocent. She didn’t want to place too much confidence in the latter, especially after the dark vibes she’d gotten from him earlier.
“Maybe you’re looking at the wrong records.”
“What? We need to track his money. What other records would I look for besides bank accounts and financial files?”
“We need to track his movements, any movement that Reynolds makes. We need to know his contacts, who he calls on his office line, his private line, and his cell phone.”
She could see where this was going, and it was info the DEA could have already secured themselves. Putting her in Reynolds’s office didn’t make her privy to his phone records. “Okay, pull his phone records,” she suggested.
“Not enough. We need a personal connection, paperwork linking him to people in South America, specific people.”
Like carriers, runners, buyers. She got that part. Still, she had a suspicion Ferrell was talking about much more. When this assignment was first presented to her, they’d said it was all about the movement of Reynolds’s money. He had too much, most people in DC thought, to be just a lawyer. He was a good lawyer, a dynamic litigator with tons of high-profile clients. Still, he’d come from seemingly ordinary parents who were killed when he was just a young boy. There was no large inheritance, and no rich family member had stepped in to raise him. The only other logical explanation for his financial status was drug-related. Was this profiling on the DEA’s part? Of course, but as bad as it seemed, Kalina felt compelled to do her job.
There was one thing she’d discovered in her investigation of Roman Reynolds, one small fact that stuck with her. After the death of his parents, Roman hadn’t become a ward of the state. Even though he had no parents, he wasn’t an orphan like her. Somebody had wanted him, loved him enough to keep him safe and to raise him into a successful man. Twinges of hurt pushed at her and Kalina pushed back, refusing to entertain another pity party.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, because at the end of the day, the job was all she had.
“Get the information we need” was his simple reply.
“How?”
“You’re the detective, Harper. Find it!”
Th
e line went dead and Kalina restrained a string of curses that she could have gladly hurled at Ferrell. But she wanted more. Damn her, she wanted that promotion. This case would propel her in that direction.
Slamming the phone into her clutch purse, she stood from the desk. She was going to find him the information he wanted, turn in a kick-ass report that would lead to a warrant to arrest Roman Reynolds, then hopefully an indictment and conviction. Oh yeah, this was going to work out just fine, she convinced herself as she took the elevator up to the seventh floor. Pulling out her phone again she quickly dialed the office number, happy to receive the after-hours recording. Bypassing the nasal recorded voice, she punched in Rome’s extension and was rewarded again with a recorded message.
He was gone for the day.
The seventh floor was just about vacant. If there was anyone working late, they were in an office and not out and paying attention to what she was about to do.
She was an officer of the law, she told herself the moment she approached Rome’s office door. Taking a deep breath she vowed, “An officer of the law who needs this promotion.” Testing the knob to see if the door was locked, she sighed, then reached into her pocket to find the bobby pin she’d stuck there. Picking a lock shouldn’t be easy for a cop, but a few seconds later the click of the bolt sliding out of the way made her smile.
* * *
Rome’s chest constricted, betrayal gripping him with indescribable strength. He didn’t know her, and yet he did. So what she was doing scraped against his already raw emotions where she was concerned. He wanted to growl, to roar his displeasure as loud as he could, but knew that was not an option.
In addition to the sting of betrayal he felt the scorch of lust, the punch of desire that almost left him breathless the moment she slipped into his office. He’d gone into his private bathroom to freshen up before heading out to the meeting, but the moment he’d picked up her scent he’d stopped. Two seconds later she was closing the door to his office, moving toward his desk.
Curious what she was looking for, he’d stood in the shadow of the partially opened bathroom door watching, waiting. She turned on the computer and tried to guess his security code to log in. He wasn’t afraid; she’d never figure it out. It was everything else that gave him pause. Why was she here? What was she looking for? And who had sent her?
Taking a slow step forward, he vowed to get all the answers he needed, and the touch of her that he craved. No matter what the cost.
* * *
Kalina was on her fourth try, using every variation on his name, his initials, and the firm’s initials that she could think of. “Dammit!” she whispered, then let her fingers rest on the keyboard while she considered.
Thoughts of passwords were interrupted by warmth against her neck, then the distinct sting of a bite against her shoulder. Jumping up out of the chair, she was already reaching behind her back for her gun, only to confront disappointment. She’d worn a dress today, not conducive to sticking a Glock in her waistband. Inside her purse was a .38, but that wasn’t doing her any good at the moment since it was a few inches away on the desk.
As it stood she was cornered, her bottom pressing into the desk behind her since she’d turned to see who or what was biting her. It was him, and she wasn’t surprised.
All her life she’d had a great sense of perception. Generally she could sense even when someone was simply staring at her. So she should have known someone was coming up behind her. Yet she hadn’t heard a sound, hadn’t been aware of any presence but her own. But here he stood, Roman Reynolds, not a foot away from her and moving closer.
“Looking for something?” His voice was deeper than it had been when she’d been in his office earlier.
And that wasn’t the only difference. He seemed bigger, if that were possible. Taller, his shoulders broader, his face still handsome as sin, but now tinged with a lethally dangerous look that had her heart skipping.
“I forgot to send an email,” she said, struggling to come up with a reason for being here at this time of day.
His arms moved and she reached back to grab her purse. Rome had a reputation for being dark, brooding, not necessarily dangerous, but not on the personable side, either. That’s what she’d read about him. What she was feeling right at this very moment wasn’t exactly a threat in the normal sense of the word.
The minute her hand was on her purse and she was struggling to get the zipper open with one hand, he touched her. Both his large hands cupped her cheeks, tilting her head up so that she was staring right into his face.
She swallowed. “I thought I could send it from your computer and head out for the day. That way I wouldn’t have to go all the way back downstairs.”
“Did you know that lies smell, Kalina?”
He leaned his face forward, inhaling deeply.
Her legs literally shook, knees knocking and all. And yet she wasn’t afraid. She was aroused. So much so that her panties were already damp, nipples tingling as his broad chest just barely brushed over them.
“I’m not lying,” she said in a voice that was much stronger than she was actually feeling. “Now if you’ll get your hands off me, I won’t have to file a harassment claim.”
“But I could still file a breaking-and-entering charge,” he said, his eyes lowering, falling to her lips.
She licked them instinctively and was answered by what could only be described as a deep rumbling growl rippling through his chest. Everything in her went on alert. She wasn’t sure why but she felt it was imperative she fight him. So without another thought she lifted her knee, feeling a bit of glory when it brushed past his groin as he quickly avoided a stronger assault. Victory was short-lived as she attempted to push past him and make a run for the door. He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her to him effortlessly.
“Now, that was worse than you sneaking into my office and trying to break into my computer.” His mouth was right up to her ear, and he nipped the lobe with teeth sharper than any needle she’d ever felt.
“Let me go,” she said trying not to panic. She could see her purse on the desk, knew her only protection from him was in there. But he was holding her away from the desk, too far away for her to reach the purse without him knowing what she was doing. “Or I’ll scream this building down. Every security officer in hearing distance will come running.”
He licked her ear. Then pulled her closer to him, his thick erection poking into her bottom with persistence. Outrage should have been pouring through her at the audacity of this man. He didn’t know her, had no idea if she was involved with someone or simply not interested in him. And yet he was rubbing on her as if there was a promise of more.
That was definitely not happening, Kalina didn’t give a damn how much her center creamed for him right about now.
“I own this building. Therefore every security officer in here works for me. Just as you do, Ms. Harper.”
He said her name with distinct sarcasm as he turned her abruptly to face him. “You work for this firm and yet you’re in here trying to break into my computer. I want to know why.”
“I wasn’t,” she started to say when he pushed his body up against hers. Her bottom pressed against the side of the desk and she struggled to remain upright.
“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled, showing just a hint of his teeth.
His body seemed to give off this intense heat that joined hers, mated with it until they were consumed by a dual desire that threatened both their sanity.
“I could fire you.”
Slices of panic moved through her, but she refused to let it show. “And I’ll definitely sue for harassment.”
“I’m not harassing you.”
“Oh really?” Beneath him she squirmed as if to confirm her point. That was a mistake. Every part of him was hard, right down to the dark glare he was giving her. His length pressed into her with such persistence she was about to simply throw her legs open and welcome him. Swallowing deeply, she tried to remain focused
. “This is more than harassment, Mr. Reynolds. Do you treat all your staff like this?”
“None of my other staff makes my dick as hard as you do.”
She should have been shocked, should have felt embarrassed by his crude language; instead she was even more aroused. “Unfortunately, that’s not a part of my job description.”
“Funny, I don’t think breaking and entering is, either.”
“This is ridiculous,” she said. “Let me go and we can talk like adults.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I’m in the mood for talking now.”
And if she was in the mood for talking, that stopped the second his lips touched hers. There was nothing soft about this kiss. No seduction or easy compliance. Instinct had warned her that there was nothing easy about this man. The kiss was hot and urgent, erotic and breath-stealing. She wanted to pull away, but her lips, his tongue, her moans, his hands, all of it melded into one scorching exchange.
Chapter 3
Her taste was sweet and primitive, stroking his cat while driving his erection to the point of pain. Sliding a hand down her arms to her thigh, Rome lifted the leg that had attempted to cause him great pain and tucked it around his back.
She was gasping, her breath coming in thick, heavy pants. Her mouth had ceased its argument, her body succumbing to the building inferno in each of them. Was this strange? Him about to fuck on his desk a woman he’d just met officially about five hours ago? Probably. Was it strange enough to make him stop? Hell no.
With her leg locked around him Rome moved so that his raging arousal was seated right at her center. If not for the barrier of their clothes he’d be planted deep inside her at this exact moment.
When he released her lips her head fell back, her fingers gripping his shoulders. She was beautiful, her face wearing lust and desire like designer makeup. Her back arched, breasts jutting forward, an invitation he could not refuse. He licked her then, his tongue creating a long path from the hollow of her neck down between the crevice of her breasts. The material of her dress wrapped around the succulent mounds but Rome didn’t care. His tongue moved over it, teeth grabbing a nipple to suckle.
