Natalie decided to let Tully order the entire dinner since he was the expert. She reserved the right to choose her own dessert, though. “It’s a very personal decision,” she explained. “Not to mention the most important part of the meal.”
Tully chuckled. “They make a mean chocolate soufflé but you have to order it now to get it ready on time.”
“Done,” Natalie said to the server.
When the menus had been whisked away, Natalie took another sip of her drink before she set it down. “Let’s get the ugly topics out of the way first. Regina told me that the restraining order was served on Dobs today. He immediately tried to get in touch with her through the law firm, which doesn’t bode well for him obeying the order.”
Tully put his drink down with the air of a man who knew he was about to deliver bad news. “For someone like Dobs, a restraining order is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Now that he knows Regina is somewhere in the area, he’s going to do everything he can to find her.” Tully’s smile was cold. “Fortunately, Alastair and his associates can’t be intimidated by Van Houten. How’s Regina holding up?”
“I was working when she called, so I couldn’t talk with her long. She sounds amazingly strong and determined. It helps that she has Dawn and Leland right there.” That was what Natalie tried to provide for the women she helped: a safe place with someone to support them. “How far does he have to go before he can be thrown in jail?”
Tully grimaced. “Even though the restraining order prohibits him from contacting her via any means, he’s more likely to get fined than jailed, especially for the first or second offense. She needs to document every attempt.”
“She’s good at documentation,” Natalie said, remembering the photos of Regina’s injuries.
“Her best strategy is to stay hidden from Van Houten until we nail him,” Tully said.
“She can’t impose on Dawn and Leland indefinitely,” Natalie objected.
He lifted his eyebrows. “Why not? Their place is huge and they like her. It won’t be for much longer anyway.”
“Do you know something I don’t?” Natalie said it with a half smile, but she didn’t want Tully keeping secrets to protect her.
“I know Van Houten’s type. Regina has struck at his pride. That makes him angry, and angry men do stupid things. I’ll be ready when he does.”
Natalie twisted the stem of her glass between her fingers. “Now for unpleasant topic number two. You and Pam both think my stalker isn’t done with me, even though it’s been nearly two days since I’ve heard from him. I don’t want to keep jumping at shadows for the rest of my life.”
Tully stretched his arm across the table to take her hand. “You won’t have to, sweetheart, I promise.” He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “Remember what I said about angry men doing stupid things.”
“That’s assuming Dobs is my stalker.”
“He is,” Tully said in a flat voice that carried utter conviction. “He fits the profile in every way.” He held her gaze with his. “One thing I learned in the FBI was to trust my gut. Van Houten either knows or suspects that you helped Regina. That’s what set him off.”
“So how do we flush him out?” Natalie was tired of the constant tension of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Regina needed to have full custody of her baby when it was born, so Dobs had to be put away.
“You don’t.” Tully’s face was like granite. “You do absolutely nothing that would incite him to go after you.” She saw him make an effort to soften his expression. “Trust me, Nat. I will get him. Without endangering you.”
If she’d had an idea of how to prod Dobs into a foolhardy action, she might have argued with Tully. However, the only methods she could think of involved exposing Regina and that was obviously not happening. “Okay, I’m done with unpleasant subjects. Do you have any?”
He shook his head. “All I want to do is enjoy a good meal with a spectacular woman.”
Spectacular. That wasn’t something she got called every day. Her smile deepened and she added a little heat to it before she extended her foot to run the side of her instep up Tully’s calf.
His eyes lit with appreciation and lust. “Those are sexy shoes,” he said. “I want to see you wearing those and nothing else.”
Arousal flashed through her, making her skin warm and tighten. Holding his gaze over the rim of her Manhattan, she dipped her tongue down to scoop up the Luxardo cherry resting on the bottom. She held the dark-red fruit between her lips, biting down so she could suck the sweet juice out of it.
“If you don’t want dinner to be takeout, you’d better stop doing that,” Tully said, his voice turning hoarse.
She slowly drew the cherry into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed it. “I was only eating the garnish.” But she felt very smug. Ruffling Tully was an accomplishment.
He just threw her a steamy look.
“So,” she said. “Tell me about working at the FBI. What made you join?”
Surprise flitted across his face. “Why do you ask that?”
“Because it’s not a job many people choose.” She wanted to understand him better and tonight might be the last chance she had.
He shifted in his chair as though the question made him uncomfortable, a strange reaction from a man who seemed so sure of his place in life. “I studied engineering in college and got a job with the state.” He grimaced. “It wasn’t exactly exciting. I figured catching bad guys would be less boring than organizing orange traffic cones.”
“You’re an engineer?” She’d always assumed he’d majored in criminal justice or something similar.
“Yes, ma’am. I can build you whatever kind of bridge you desire. I guess you haven’t read my bio on the KRG website.” His mouth twisted into a wry smile.
“Why bother when I can go straight to the source?” It was odd that she hadn’t done the most basic homework on Tully, since she was noted for being up to date on both celebrity and local news. However, it had seemed wrong to have her opinion of him molded by outside sources. “I didn’t know the FBI hired engineers.”
He shrugged. “It’s useful when analyzing weak points terrorists might hit or analyzing building blueprints to set up raids. I also grew up handling firearms, so that was in my favor.”
“You’re from Pennsylvania, but that’s about all I know.”
“And that’s about as much as you want to know.” He looked relieved when the server appeared with their appetizer—a tapas platter loaded with exotic olives, various cheeses, and paper-thin slices of jamón serrano—along with a basket of assorted breads and herbed olive oils.
He really didn’t want to talk about his childhood, so she let him focus on the delicious food arrayed in front of them. He suggested combinations of cheese and ham, explained what the flavorings in the olive oils were, and kept her glass filled with fruit-laden sangria.
“I won’t be able to eat the main course,” she protested after he’d nudged a wedge of tortilla de patatas toward her.
“We can always take it home,” he said with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Oh no! I’m not missing the chocolate soufflé, no matter how much liquor you ply me with.”
He chuckled and leaned back in his chair before launching into an amusing story about one of his corporate clients, with names and identifying characteristics carefully redacted. She got the feeling he was doing this to forestall further questions about his past but she didn’t mind. It was fascinating to glimpse the world he worked in, which included private jets, multiacre estates, priceless wine and art collections, and fleets of exotic cars. The whims of his clients were sometimes capricious—like the woman who wanted a bodyguard who could go riding cross-country with her—but Tully considered each one a new challenge.
However, the stories that made his face light up were the ones where he got to use his FBI training the most, planning antikidnapping tactics or setting up security on one of those giant estates.
He insiste
d that Natalie tell him about the salon, asking her questions about her staff and her customers, treating her as though her job was just as important as what his own clients did. She realized that this dinner was the first time they’d talked about their normal lives, although calling Tully’s life normal was pushing it.
As she watched the play of expressions across his face, she knew she would never forget the way the corners of his dark-gray eyes crinkled when he smiled or how sharp and clean the line of his jaw was. She could almost feel the texture of his golden-brown hair as it caught the candlelight. The leisurely cadence of his deep voice stroked her like the notes of a steamy tango.
By the time the chocolate soufflé arrived, she just wanted to go back to his house. Until she dipped her spoon through the light crust to find the warm chocolate sauce the server had poured in at tableside. The heady scent of chocolate swirled around her like a delicious cloud and when the soufflé hit her taste buds, she nearly groaned in ecstasy.
“You know, you look almost exactly like that when you come.” Tully’s voice was a low rumble and Natalie realized she’d closed her eyes to savor the dessert.
She opened them as his words sent a ripple of desire through her. “This is one of those dishes that actually deserves the label ‘better than sex.’” She filled her spoon and lifted it to her mouth again. This time she kept her eyes open to watch Tully’s face.
His gaze was on her lips as she drew the spoon slowly out of them. Chocolate burst on her tongue again and she allowed herself a moan of pleasure.
“Is it really better?” he asked with mock offense. “Because you’re almost convincing me it might be.”
He hadn’t ordered the soufflé, so she pushed her plate toward him. “See for yourself.”
Picking up his coffee spoon, he took a bite, looking thoughtful for a moment before he shook his head and gave her a blistering smile. “Nope, you taste much better than the soufflé.”
She squeezed her thighs together as arousal slid down into her belly. “How fast can you get the check?”
“You haven’t finished your dessert.” His eyes flared but he nudged the plate back toward her.
“I’ve always heard that after three bites, the taste becomes less satisfying anyway.”
He leaned forward, his gaze locked on her. “It all depends on what you’re tasting. Let’s go.” He stood.
“Don’t you need to pay for dinner?” But she rose as well.
“They’ll put it on my tab.” He stepped close to her, his splayed hand resting right on the boundary between her waist and her bottom as he guided her between the tables.
He has a tab at Cruz.
It was strange how easily she’d ignored that he was a high level of rich. When he had come to her house in his jeans and cowboy boots, he seemed like a regular guy. Even his Maserati hadn’t changed her impression. It wasn’t until she saw his home—a mansion in the middle of the city!—that it began to impinge on her brain that this man lived in a way she didn’t understand. Now he’d demonstrated how comfortable he was at an ultra-exclusive restaurant in Manhattan.
After tonight, she really needed to go back to her life in suburban New Jersey.
It took less than five minutes for the valet to retrieve Tully’s car, helped by the fact that the young man had already gone to fetch it by the time they reached the front door. The host must have called ahead when he saw they had left their table.
Tully held the door for her, leaning down to brush a kiss on her cheekbone and say, “I wish I had used the limo tonight. I want to touch you right now.”
The lace of Natalie’s panties was already damp, so she decided to do something daring. After Tully folded his big frame into the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb, Natalie unlatched her seat belt and worked her hands up under her skirt. Hooking her fingers in the lace and lifting her butt to slip her panties down her thighs, she wriggled until she could get them down to her knees.
“I like where those are going,” Tully said, glancing over at her as she bent to drag the wisp of fabric down to her ankles and over her heels.
“We both want you to touch me,” she said, sliding her skirt halfway up her thighs and opening them as far as she could in the tight fabric before she fastened her seat belt again.
“Sweetheart, I’ll be touching and tasting.” He turned onto a narrower street. “Less traffic here in case I get distracted.”
Natalie ran her hand up the inside of his thigh to find his cock half erect. “Will this distract you?” She stroked it lightly through the wool of his trousers.
He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips before he moved it back to her side of the console. “Let me do the touching right now.”
His palm skimmed up under her skirt until he found her opening and slipped his finger partway inside it. “Like wet silk,” he rasped, stroking in and out a few times before he moved to her clit, his finger damp enough to slide easily against it.
“Oh, Tully!” she moaned as delicious sensation surged from that one point of contact to flood through her body, hardening her nipples and impelling her hips into his hand. “Yes, more!”
He shifted in his seat so he could slide his index finger inside her while his thumb pressed against her clit. She could feel the liquid heat coiling low in her belly and she cupped her own breasts, running her thumbs over their sensitized tips so the cloth of her dress and the lace of her bra dragged across them.
“God, Nat, you are so hot!” Tully’s rumble of a voice sent more flames licking through her.
“You make me hot,” she gasped, pushing harder against his hand. “More!”
He shifted again to thrust another finger inside her while still working her clit. The city lights strobed through the dark interior of the car as he drove her closer and closer to her climax, adding their rhythm to his. When every nerve in her body teetered on the edge, she closed her eyes and waited in that perfect moment of anticipation. And then she convulsed, arching up from the seat against the restraint of her seat belt and gasping out his name.
“Keep coming for me, baby,” Tully said, finding the spot inside her that triggered another cataclysm. “That’s it.”
The rush of pleasure blotted out everything except where his fingers worked their magic, wringing more from her until she collapsed back onto the leather seat, unlocking the grip of her thighs from around his wrist.
He kept his fingers motionless within her as tiny shocks continued to pulse through her. She let her head fall back against the seat. “Tully,” was all she could manage as her body went lax with satiation.
When he eased out of her, she made a small sound of regret at the absence and turned her head to watch as he sucked his fingers into his mouth.
He made a humming sound before he wrapped his hand around the steering wheel and gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Now that was better than any soufflé.”
“And you didn’t hit any taxis.”
“I’m a trained professional when it comes to driving.”
“I guess the other part you just have a natural talent for.” She injected a purr into her voice.
“If you say so, sweetheart.” But his grin was satisfied.
Another part of him wasn’t. She could see his erection tenting his trousers. But his house wasn’t far, so she relaxed in the cradle of the sports car’s luxurious seat while her body still shivered with delicious aftereffects.
“Are you driving faster than normal?” she asked after a minute.
“Maybe.” He dodged around a lumbering delivery truck. “The sooner we get home, the sooner I can strip that pretty dress off of you so I can see your even prettier body.”
His words sent a blast of heat through her.
“Do you think the piano would hold me? I’ve always wanted to have sex on a grand piano.”
The Maserati accelerated. “As long as it lasts until we’re done, I don’t care if it collapses afterward,” Tully said.
Natalie relished the ski
ll with which he maneuvered the car through the crowded streets, his hands firm on the leather-covered steering wheel, his long legs flexing as he braked, shifted, and accelerated. After he roared into the courtyard, he was out of the car so fast the rumble of the engine had barely died.
Her door swung open and his hand was there, palm open, offering strength and support as she stepped onto the pavers with her sky-high heels. “I’d kiss you right here except we’d never make it to the piano,” he said, slamming the door and hustling her up the steps to the back door.
Once they were inside, he ushered her to the glossy black piano standing on the ornately inlaid wood floor of the grand entrance. He bent his head to take her mouth in a long, searing kiss. As his tongue teased hers, she felt the zipper of her dress glide downward, releasing the embrace of the fabric so cool air whispered over her heated skin.
He pulled his lips away from hers and peeled the top of the dress off her shoulders, pulling it inexorably downward to expose her black lace bra and the fact that she hadn’t bothered to don her panties again in the car. He hissed in a breath as he pulled the dress down to the top of her thighs. “I didn’t realize . . .”
“It seemed like a waste of effort,” she said.
He smiled in a way that said he agreed with her. Then the dress was a pool of black on the floor and he reached around to unhook her bra, tossing it away. For a brief moment, he cupped his hands under her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her already-tight nipples.
“I’d like to suggest a variation on your idea,” he said, his gaze on his hands. “Let’s use the piano bench.”
She glanced at the seat with its black leather-upholstered top.
“I’ll sit and you kneel over me,” he said.
“Deal.” She imagined what it would feel like to have him thrusting upward into her and her inner muscles contracted in anticipation.
The Agent Page 20
