And Andi knew. Already she craved more.
So, deliberately, she turned her back on him and took her seat behind her desk. Taking her time, searching for the composure that was legendary, Andi settled, crossed her legs, and folded her hands across her belly.
“Now, what is going on behind those eyes of yours?” he mused, shaking his head. “From firecracker to frost, in only seconds.” The ice formed so quickly, it was a wonder he didn’t get frostbite, Jamie mused, slipping his hands into his pockets and leaning back against the wall. The ache in his groin only intensified when Andi stroked her hand up and down the long cable of her braid while she stared him down with cool eyes. It was an absent gesture, one she probably wasn’t even aware of. So why did it make him ache?
“I don’t know why, but I can’t see you…wondering about me,” Andi finally said.
“I’ve been wondering about you since I laid eyes on you,” Jamie admitted, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. Moving around the desk, he propped his hip on the edge and returned her stare levelly. Reaching out, he dragged his thumb across her damp, slightly swollen mouth. “Wondering about this. And this.” He took her long braid, lowered his head, and dragged the scent of her—baby lotion, vanilla, and woman— deep into his lungs. “You may not see it, but you’re probably the only one. My partner’s suggested maybe he should finish the job up by himself.”
A cynical laugh fell from her mouth as she jerked her head away, flinging her braid over her shoulder. “What, is there a betting pool going on that I don’t know about? Are they laying odds out in the factory about who’ll get into my bed?”
“Excuse me?”
She shrugged her shoulders, jerking her face away from his touch. “It wouldn’t be the first time. If a woman turns a guy down in a place like this, she’s either a lesbian or frigid. Either one is enough to make you a joke in the men’s room.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“That’s the truth,” she countered. “I’m not your entertainment. Finish up your job, Jamie. I’m sure you’ll do just fine. But leave me alone.” She leaned forward, intent on ignoring him. Dragging files from her desk, she waited for him to leave.
“I’ve never made a bet on a woman in my life,” Jamie told her, his eyes serious, somber. “I’ve never thought of a woman as simple entertainment.” Sliding off her desk, he lowered his head, whispered, “I’d leave you alone, Andi, if I had a choice in the matter.”
Then he straightened and held something out to her. “I doubt you need these, but here,” he said, pressing her glasses into her nerveless hands.
When the door closed quietly behind him, Andi leaned back in her chair, pressing her hand to her heart, the glasses she didn’t need clutched in her other hand.
What had she gotten herself into?
♥
“Damn it,” Jamie growled, slamming the file on his desk. There was another Swiss bank account, a well-hidden charge of embezzlement more than thirty years old. None of it would have probably been noticed, if Art Letcher had not called attention to himself. It had been too well hidden for the average inquiry to uncover, and Art, until he placed himself there, hadn’t even been on the short list.
But there was no trail. No sign of how he had done it.
And the only way to nail him was with proof.
“I don’t like this,” Jamie said quietly, raising his eyes and meeting Mick’s over the table. “I don’t like this at all.”
“Look, who said she had to know? I doubt Letcher’s going to go running to her,” Mick argued.
Closing his eyes, Jamie sighed. “I don’t like using people.”
Especially not when all he wanted to do with this particular person was lay her down on a bed of silk sheets and bury himself in her waiting body. Yeah, he was having a problem here.
Hell, he was also lying. He did want to use her, use her body hard and fast until he had burned out this need he had for her. Use her until he’d burned her image out of his mind, the feel of her body from his hands. He didn’t want her inside of him like this. He didn’t want the complications loving a woman like her would bring into his life.
“I don’t like this,” he repeated.
Arching his bushy gray brows, Mick countered, “You’ve never had a problem with it before.”
“Yeah, I have,” Jamie replied, reluctantly. “Just not one this big. I don’t…I don’t want her hurt.”
“You’ve got a job to do, kid. Personal feelings and the job don’t mix. How many times have I told you that?” Mick demanded, his long face becoming even more morose.
Too many…maybe not enough, Jamie thought. But when the job planted such a greasy feeling in your belly, when it made you feel like you were taking candy from a baby, or knocking old ladies down, there was a problem.
“I tried talking to her today in the lunchroom. She came in for a Coke and blew me off,” Mick said. “I doubt I’ll be able to do much good on that end. She doesn’t like me much. I don’t know if she likes anybody much. Kind of stuck up.”
No. She’s shy, Jamie thought to himself. She kept to herself.
“How does she do with you?” Mick asked.
“Fine.” Sighing and lowering his head to his hands, he pressed his thumbs against his eye sockets. “She’s fine.”
“Great. That will be one less thing to worry about,” Mick said. Then he froze, lowering the file as he caught the strangled look on Jamie’s face. His own face fell and he slammed the file on the table. Absently, he drew the ever present, voice-activated tape recorder from his pocket and thumbed the switch that would turn off the automatic. Just as absently, he hit the rewind key, erasing the brief conversation with Jamie that would have been caught on tape. Then he looked up at his friend, and asked, “That bad, huh?”
“Worse,” Jamie said softly, remembering the way she had felt against him. Like she belonged there. No other woman had ever felt that right against him, that complete. He liked women, enjoyed them, had every intention of getting married, in about ten or fifteen years. Right now, though, the only thing he wanted a woman for was an occasional date and a good fuck.
And one good fuck wasn’t something he’d get from Andi.
He knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with one, anyway.
“Damn it,” he snarled under his breath. Shooting to his feet, he paced the floor of the den, hands jammed deep in his pockets, his bare feet sinking into the plush black carpet of the rented condo. The cool black, white and gray deco was anything but soothing. The harsh white walls were making his head throb as he stared at them, trying to see some sort of answer.
“Jamie, all we have to do is let Letcher think you suspect her, just long enough for him to let his guard slip. Once we get evidence, once he tries to turn money over to me, we’ve got him. She doesn’t even have to know,” Mick said wearily. “Damn it, what in the hell were you thinking, getting hooked on her like that?”
With a wry laugh, Jamie stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face Mick. Eyeing his old friend, he realized the older man had never fallen in love, probably never been close. “Mick, I wasn’t thinking. It just happened. It hit me like a ton of bricks the day I banged my head. She’s all I’ve been able to think about since then.”
Sighing, Mick leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look, all we’ve got to do is get the job done. Then you can get on one knee, propose and have a passel of kids for all I care. But the job comes first. Finding out who swiped the ninety grand, and nailing him, comes first. Damn it, you know as well as I do, with an operation this smooth, this clean, there’s more than ninety-fucking-two-grand missing. You want that to go unpunished? That comes first.”
Yeah. And I’ll come in last, Jamie thought bleakly, staring out the window.
♥
He was there again. Andi could feel his eyes on her back. Her skin prickled and a hot little ball settled low in her belly. Taking a deep steadying breath, she hande
d the book to Beth. “I don’t know, but the green eggs and ham looked kind of weird to me.”
Beth wrinkled her pert little nose and said, “I don’t eat anything green.”
As the girl trotted away, Andi rose to her feet and pivoted. Across the room, she met Jamie’s eyes, and felt the shockwave clear down to her toes. The heat in those eyes was enough to burn. Maneuvering her way through the maze of toys, she met him at the door, hands tucked into the pockets of her scrub coat. Moments stretched out as they stared at each other, as his eyes dropped to caress her mouth before drifting back up to hers.
Even with the little experience she’d had, Andi could read the message in those eyes.
All around them, children squealed and talked, babies cooed and gurgled, and the two assistants murmured and laughed with the kids. The fluorescent lighting overhead buzzed and one flickered, an unheeded reminder that Andi needed to call maintenance.
They were surrounded, in a place as unromantic as you could possibly imagine.
But for all they noticed, they stood alone, the room dimly lit, soft music playing.
Hot little butterflies started leaping in her belly and she dampened her lips automatically. When his eyes dropped to follow the movement of her tongue, Andi had to stifle a moan. A rush of warmth flooded her belly and she felt the wet start to gather between her thighs.
He wanted her. Her. This sexy, beautiful man wanted her. Her throat had gone suddenly dry and she cleared her throat, tearing her eyes away.
“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he mused, reaching out to brush a lock of hair back from her face. “Of course, I don’t reckon you really needed them.”
Ignoring his remark, she moved her head out of his reach. “Unless you’re here because you need medical attention or to tell me to pack up and leave, get out.” Turning on her heel, nerves and fear making her voice harsher than she intended, she moved away from him.
“Come to lunch with me.” His voice was a soft command as he reached out and stopped her by laying his hands on the smooth rounded flesh of her shoulders.
Rolling her eyes, Andi glanced at his hands. “I’ve already eaten.”
He had such nice hands, she thought, wide-palmed, long clever fingers, short, blunt nails. They felt even nicer when they were touching her.
“Really?” Jamie asked, grinning.
She couldn’t see it, but without even trying, she knew he was grinning and how it looked. Eyes crinkled up, his lean, gorgeous face alight, that brilliant white smile, that sinful mouth. Unable to resist, she shrugged his hands off and turned, just to see that smile before it disappeared.
“It’s not even eleven o’clock,” he said, amused. “Yesterday, you weren’t hungry, even though I could hear your belly growling ten feet away. And the day before that you said you don’t like to eat until early afternoon.” Rubbing his hand over his chin, he asked, “Are you trying to avoid me or does it just look that way?”
“Back off, McAdams. I’m not interested.”
He shrugged, lifted an eyebrow. Taking a step closer, he said in a low rough voice, “You know, if I hadn’t had my hands on you just a couple of days ago, I might believe that. If I hadn’t had my tongue in your mouth, felt you moving against me…I might believe it.” His cock swelled as he stared down at her, hungry, dying for just another taste.
Another taste, hell. He wanted the whole fucking banquet.
Andi, spread out and open and ready for him to feast. Naked, her breasts bare for his eyes and mouth, her thighs open and ready for his tongue and cock. Under his trousers, his cock swelled and he moved a little closer, dragging in her scent, and fighting the urge to grab her when he caught the scent of woman, aroused woman.
She knew, felt it. He could see it in her eyes. “I want to taste you, Andi,” he murmured, breathing the words softly against her cheek. “Spread the lips of your sweet little pussy open and lick you dry and then have you wrap your legs around me—”
“Stop.” Andi’s voice was harsh as her breathing kicked up as he continued to stare at her, his eyes dropping to focus on her mouth, before sliding to linger on her stiff nipples thrusting against the fabric of her tunic.
Pasting a bright, false smile on her face, she glanced at the kids spread throughout the room. Seeing that nobody was paying them any mind, she beckoned for him to follow, but when he tried to close the door to her office, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
She waited until his hand fell away from the door before she asked, “Isn’t there some kind of ethics thing, about putting the moves on an embezzlement suspect?”
“You’re not a suspect, damn it,” he snapped, keeping his voice low. Baby, believe me, please, half of him pleaded. And the other half was begging, Just kick me the hell out. Don’t give me a way to do this. Then Jamie shoved his hand through his hair and glanced out the door. “Unofficially, you are off the list. Have been for a while…Miz Kade.”
Kade. Alicia Kade, her pen name. Arching a brow, she said, “So you figured the money part out, huh?”
“Even before I figured it out, I knew you didn’t do it. It doesn’t fit,” Jamie said. He took a step toward her, caught her hand, tugged her a little closer. “Seriously, though. You don’t know anything about this. I said unofficially because—”
“You don’t want to tip others off?” she finished. The relief she felt was unreal. The weight on her shoulders fell off so quickly, her head started to spin. Pressing one hand against her belly, she waited until her voice was level again before she said, “So what is the rest of this about?”
“Lunch,” he told her.
“Lunch?” she repeated dumbly.
“Yeah, a meal you usually eat about this time,” he supplied with a teasing grin. “Of course, your schedule seems rather…varied.”
“You just want to grab a bite to eat, huh?” she asked darkly, inching away from him.
“Is it so hard for you to believe that I’d want your company for a while?” he asked mildly, well aware of her slow retreat.
Keeping her voice low, Andi said, “I don’t know what you have going on in your head.” Nibbling on her lower lip, she avoided his eyes. “I doubt I’m the kind of woman you’re interested in. I don’t do short-term relationships well, and I’ve never had a long-term one. I’m pretty much at a loss in both areas.”
Ignoring the last part of her statement, Jamie asked, “How would you know what kind of woman I’m interested in?”
Pinning him with a narrow stare, Andi studied his tousled ebony hair, those pale eyes, his sculpted mouth before going on to study his tailored suit and buffed Italian leather shoes. Her own clothes, aside from the sturdy, serviceable uniforms were jeans and T-shirts she bought from a department store in the mall, the kind Jamie probably didn’t know existed. Aside from the Reeboks she wore, she had a pair of sandals, a pair of hiking boots, a pair of low-heeled black boots, and two pairs of dress shoes. She was certain that all of those shoes combined cost less than the shoes McAdams had on his feet.
“Oh, I imagine the last date you had was with a woman who was probably a good three or four inches taller than I, twenty pounds lighter, with a haircut that cost about as much as I make in a week. You two probably dined at a ritzy little secluded restaurant with white tablecloths and a maitre de, sipping at wine that runs about a hundred dollars a bottle. Her filet mignon costs as much as I spend on food in a week. If I really wanted to put myself out on a limb, I’d say she’s a professional debutante that spends her time doing the charities rich women like to do so they can be seen by other rich women. Dinner was probably followed up at her place—I doubt you let too many women in yours. Some good, hard sex, followed by some more wine and some slower sex and then you left.” The image sounded pretty damn good to her, Andi mused. But it didn’t suit her.
Hooking one foot in front of the other, she asked, “How close was I?”
With some disgust, Jamie admitted, “Pretty close. Bu
t she was a lawyer who didn’t drink wine or eat red meat. And I spent the night.”
With a small grin, Andi shrugged. “Can’t be right about everything.”
Lifting her lukewarm Coke from the desk, she sipped it and held the can up for his inspection. “This is about the only thing I drink, this and the occasional Bloody Mary, and water. I can’t remember the last time I paid somebody to cut my hair and I don’t eat in restaurants. I just can’t stand the crowds. One night stands, or casual easy sex isn’t what I’m cut out for. You and I—we couldn’t be anymore different,” Andi said quietly, shaking her head. “You’ve got folks close by, I imagine. You hear from Mom probably once a week, see the family once or twice a month. You mentioned a passel of nieces and nephews?” Nodding her head toward the play area, she said, “That’s the closest thing I have to a family.”
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as the kind to feel sorry for yourself.”
One slim brow rose. “Is that what you think?” she asked, smoothing down the front of her tunic, flicking her finger across the red crayon mark Beth had drawn on her. Raising her head, she said, “No. I do envy you. I can see that I’m right. It’s in your eyes. But I’m not feeling sorry for myself. That doesn’t get me anywhere. What I’m trying to do is get you to understand something—I don’t have much. And it took me years to get here. I’m not about to let some pretty boy looking for thrills come in and wreck what I do have.”
“I wasn’t aware that was what I was trying to do.”
That tiny little grin came and went again as she rolled her eyes. “Please, Jamie. You may do casual real well. But I doubt that women you’ve been with have felt as casual as you do. You’re a heartbreaker. And the worst kind, the kind who really doesn’t even see that he’s doing it, the kind who is naturally sweet to a woman, who knows how to kiss her and make her feel like she’s the only woman on earth. You devote yourself wholeheartedly to the woman of the moment, and once it’s over, it’s over. You don’t look back.”
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