take care of what·s mine,µ he finished. ´That means you, and whoever is important to you, are important to
me. Jacob is my responsibility now. You don·t have to shoulder the responsibility alone
anymore. You have
me now, baby.µ
Óh God, Mac.µ Sienna felt tears sting the backs of her eyes.
That quick, he took her there.
To that place where she felt he was the only man in the world who
understood her. That he
completed her on some level.
One minute, he pissed her off with his demanding, over-bearing ways. The next minute, he had her
hot, her body yearning, on fire for his.
And then he would claim he wanted to protect her, the promise in his eyes real, no subterfuge.
He tugged at her bottom lip, nibbling at the fuller rim, before releasing her again.
´Don·t you think it·s time I met your brother? Don·t you trust me yet?µ
Sienna stared into his eyes, torn. She did trust him. He·d proven that he was committed to her safety.
She knew he·d extended her brother within his circle of those he protected, much as he had with his sister
and her son. And now she and her brother.
She reached a hand up and stroked a caress down his rough-hewn cheek. He captured one of her
fingers and suckled it.
´Yes. I think it is,µ she agreed, her voice soft.
Mac felt one corner of his mouth lift around the fingers he had in his mouth.
Sienna cared about him.
She may not have said the words, yet, but she did. Her love for her brother had been the motivating
factor for the decisions she·d made most of her life. She·d never allow anyone within ten feet of him, if she
didn·t trust that person.
He·d had plans to go over the mission with Runninghorse, but he·d work around it. No way was he
passing up an opportunity to meet her brother and show her that he wasn·t all talk.
´Yeah, I think I can do that,µ he answered after pulling her finger from his mouth.
She smiled up at him. ´Good. I think he·ll like you,µ she said, pulling from his embrace. She turned to
the stove and removed the pot from the fire, setting it on the back burner.
Mac felt nervousness settle in his gut. Óh yeah? How·s that?
Has he ever met any of your other
boyfriends?µ he asked. Although he couldn·t see Sienna allowing that to happen, he still felt jealousy rear at
the thought that she had.
Sienna laughed. Ńo. I don·t know that I·ve ever really had a boyfriend.µ
She bent over and opened the oven door, her short skirt hiked up higher, giving him a peek of her
panties before she grabbed an oven mitt. Removing the sizzling pan of chicken from inside, she set it on
the stove eyelet.
Ánd the only reason Jake has my approval is because you trust him. If you trust him, then I trust
him,µ Sienna said simply.
Damn, the woman knew what to say to get inside his heart. She first trusted him with her body, nearly two years ago. Now she was showing him that she
trusted him to take care of her.
It was only a matter of time before she completely trusted him with her heart.
He walked over and kissed the back of her neck as she finished preparing dinner. When she turned to
him in question, he shot her a quick grin and set about taking out plates and silverware. He placed them
on her small dinette table.
With a curious grin on her face, she shrugged, turned away, and they worked in companionable silence.
Sienna withdrew a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator before placing the chicken on a platter, the
spaghetti noodles and sauce in separate containers, and placed all of it on the table.
Mac sat down, inhaling deeply.
The tantalizing aroma from the food made his stomach growl in anticipation. ´This looks delicious! I·m starved.µ
She grinned. ´Dig in!µ
They ate and Mac asked her about her day at school.
As he sat and listened to her tell him about her day, pride in her voice, he realized how much he enjoyed sharing even the small things with her³sharing aspects of their lives beyond the physical.
He didn·t know if he·d be able to willingly go back to a life without Sienna being a daily part of it.
33
Í came up with something,µ
Runninghorse said into the phone.
´What·s that?µ
Jake Runninghorse examined the necklace he held in his hand, turning it over in his palm, his fingers
caressing the diamonds.
Ĺooks like the diamonds are real, not fake.µ
Óh really?µ
With Sienna·s agreement, Mac had allowed Runninghorse to take the necklace to examine it further.
´Yeah. Also looks like the links between the diamonds are made of platinum and not silver. The edges
are smooth, not sharp. They were designed so that when lying flat against the throat, they·re harmless. But
if pressed against the skin, the edges could cut as sharp as any knife into the tender skin of a woman·s
neck.µ
Mac felt dread clench his gut, tying it in a knot at
Runninghorse·s disclosure.
´What else?µ
Í did some digging. Something about this necklace jarred a memory, reminded me of one of the
cases in our closed files. A woman named Karen Hughes
was murdered six months ago, strangled. Official
autopsy report was death by asphyxiation from her own blood.µ
´What·s that got to do with the necklace?µ Mac asked. The dread he felt increased.
He·d spent most of his time working out of Sienna·s home and this was the first time he·d come into
his office. Although she wasn·t there, was at school, he felt uneasy leaving her house.
Runninghorse placed the
necklace down gently on top of its velvet case, returning it to Mac, and
picked up two of the autopsy photos of the dead woman from Mac·s desk.
One was a close-up of her neck, magnifying the deep gash marks into her throat. He placed the necklace below the distinct imprint along the woman·s neck.
It was a perfect match.
He described the photos to Mac, and how the necklace fit as the method of murder.
Ćhrist,µ Mac murmured.
´Yeah, and it·s not the only one.
This may not have been the first time this happened. Did some more
digging. She was the third woman found, dead, with the same MO. Never connected
them all, until now.µ
´Fill me in,µ Mac said grimly.
Ĺooks like the first victim fitting the MO, same method of murder, similar history, was murdered five
years ago. Was a skin worker in one of the seedier downtown strip joints in DC. Her death hadn·t caused
much in the way of a blip on the radar.µ
Ńo family?µ
Ńo family or close friends ever filed a missing persons report.
No real manpower given to finding the
perp.µ
Śurprising if there would be.µ
In Mac·s line of work, he knew it was a harsh fact of life that little police power was given for men and women who worked in the sex trade industry. Especially if she had no family or friends to report her
missing.
´Her autopsy pictures were cataloged and stored away in the unsolved-murder files and sent to us.µ
Runninghorse went on to fill Mac in on the other cases.
The second woman had been a prostitute, and would have gone by unmarked³except that she·d been the runaway daughter of a woman who refused to allow her death to go by unnoticed.
There·d b
een a bit of a stir surrounding her death when the mother had gone on one of the local DC
news shows, begging for
information on the death of her only child.
Ít was Karen Hughes·s death that caught the media·s
attention. She·d been living a double life.µ
´How·s that?µ
Ŕecently divorced from one of the city·s power players. She·d disclosed to a best friend what she did
at night. It was the reason her husband divorced her. He tried to keep it quiet, the reasons for divorcing his
young wife. Once she was
identified, it was all over the news. No hiding it, even if her family wanted. When
it had been found out who she was, it had caused a sensation in all the papers.µ
Runninghorse·s team had been assigned the case, and he·d been in the process of
unearthing
information linking Carlos Medeiros to the women.
Carlos had been under close scrutiny from various
government agencies. He·d exploded on the crime
radar screen, after evading a drug-related charge and link to several money-laundering
operations.
But the man was smart.
He·d carefully covered his tracks with various front men.
He used local drug lords and hustlers to do
his dirty work. His own identity and involvement were carefully guarded so well, none of the charges stuck
³the men protecting him to the point of conviction. To inspire that type of loyalty was a shield hard to
penetrate.
Rather than risk the wrath of Medeiros, every one of them had clammed up, more afraid of Medeiros·s
reprisal than spending time in federal prison.
One of the caught men had been willing to talk. The paperwork had been started to get him quickly
into witness protection, but not soon enough. Both the criminal and his police guard were found dead in his
hotel room within days.
It had sent out a blood message like no other. Going to the pen was preferable to a bullet in the head.
The FBI went back to square one, trying to arrest the elusive man heading the operation.
Carlos
Medeiros.
´We·ve been watching Medeiros.
We knew he was somehow
involved with the women.µ
´How·s that?µ
Éach woman had either
stripped or was a prostitute for men known to have association with the
Dominican.µ
Í wondered why you were
willing to come so quickly,µ Mac said.
Ís there a problem with that?µ
Ńo. I don·t give a shit for your reasons. Just glad you·re willing to help.µ
´We think Medeiros may also be supplying women to act as sex slaves for wealthy men. Nothing concrete, but we have a list of men known to have dealings with Medeiros.µ
When Runninghorse had gotten the call from Kyle, along with the facts of the case, his interest had
been stirred. When Carlos Medeiros·s name had been
mentioned, that was all it had taken for Jake to cut
his leave time short and fly to the Coast.
´This time, we·ll get the son of a bitch.µ
34
A s Sienna went about her nightly ritual that evening, in the adjoining bathroom, Mac
lounged on the
bed. With his back propped up against pillows, he watched her clean her face, brush and floss her teeth,
and begin to braid her long hair.
´Don·t braid it tonight. Leave it down,µ he told her.
Sienna turned to face him, brush in hand. ´But I always braid it at night, you know that. It·ll be all over my head in the morning if I don·t.µ
Í like you looking all tousled.
It·s sexy.µ
´Yeah, well, there·s a difference between casual messy and a rat·s nest.µ She laughed when he gave
a pathetic attempt at pouting.
Ókay, fine! I·ll leave it down.µ
´Good. Now come to bed. I miss you.µ
He watched her with half-closed eyes. She wore nothing but his old ratty T-shirt, her face scrubbed
free of makeup. Still, she was the most beautiful woman he·d ever seen.
Damn, I have it bad for her, Mac thought.
Sienna placed the brush back down on the counter and turned back to the mirror, finishing her ritual.
Standing on tiptoe, the shirt rising and showing a hint of one round creamy-brown cheek, she opened the
mirror cabinet.
She didn·t see him leap from the bed.
She had no time to think when he turned her around to face him.
´Mac, what are you doing? I said I was coming³µ Her protest was cut off by his mouth on hers.
As he kissed her, he shoved one hand up her shirt, deliberately rough, and yanked her panties down
her legs with the other. Ĺift your feet,µ he demanded. She obliged him, allowing him to shed her panties
completely off her body.
His rough handling excited Sienna.
He aroused her even more when he ripped the panties off her body. When he took possession of her
mouth again, pulling her naked body tight against his, she moaned into his mouth.
She ground her pelvis against him, impatient when he opened the medicine cabinet to retrieve a
condom.
Sienna wanted to feel him, only him, desperately. She bit her bottom lip until she felt the tangy taste
of her own blood, anxious to feel him slide into her.
Í need it now, Mac. I need you,µ
she begged, greedy for him.
Her breath came out in gasps of heated anticipation when he finally sheathed himself, knocked her
thighs farther apart, and targeted his shaft at her core.
When she felt the knob of his shaft begin to press into her, Sienna almost sobbed. The relief was so
strong, so overwhelming, it bordered pain.
She met his eyes as he pushed inside her. Unable to resist, she feathered her fingers over his face.
His skin was stretched taut; the masculine lines etched in his forehead and lean cheeks
appealing. His eyes
reflected his deep desire for her.
And something more.
Something she·d wanted to see in a man·s eyes for longer than she cared to admit.
Sienna closed her eyes,
swallowed deeply, and
shuddered with pleasure from every plunge and retreat
of his shaft inside her body. The pleasure built until she felt delirious. On and on, he dragged his penis in
and out of her core; her head lolled to the side, her eyes tightly clenched.
Ópen your eyes and look at me,µ he whispered hoarsely, increasing the tempo of his thrust.
The look in his eyes and the demanding way he was working her body sent her over the edge.
She
clutched his thick forearms as he jostled her body, pounding into her slick flesh without mercy. The
pleasure crashed over her in waves³hot, hard, and exquisite.
She came in shaking quakes, her body pulsing as the orgasm slammed into her.
He completely lifted her off the counter and flipped her so that her back was rammed tight against
the wall. He continued thrusting in long, hot strokes. She wrapped her legs around his lean waist and
screamed when the second, unexpected orgasm broke.
´Mac,µ she whispered, unable to say more.
Just the sound of his name on her lips as he gave her
satisfaction sent the lust and love Mac felt for
her building like a volcano until he erupted.
His fingers dug into her soft skin, her walls tightening on his cock like a silken fist, gripping him with
friction so ho
t that his body felt on fire.
His head fell back and he yelled, his body and mind shattering as her muscles convulsed around him
in powerful contractions, milking him until he had nothing more to give.
Mac·s legs felt weak, shaky, as he allowed her legs to fall from his waist.
He rested his forehead against hers, briefly, before he could gather the strength to lift her and carry
her to the bed.
After pulling down the sheets, he laid her down and turned off the lamp and lay down beside her.
She rolled over to face him and he pulled her so that she was resting on top of him.
He pushed the hair away from her face. ´Why do you wear my T-shirts to bed?µ he asked after kissing her on the forehead.
´They feel good,µ she said, snuggling her body closer against his. ´Why? Don·t you like the way I look
in them?µ
´Yes. But you look good in anything you wear. T-shirt, negligee, or preferably butt-naked,µ he said,
nuzzling the side of her neck, making her squirm.
´Hmmm,µ she moaned when his hands warmed her cheeks.
Śometimes I get carried away with you,µ he murmured against the top of her head.
´What do you mean?µ
Í wanted to make long, sweet love to you, not take you like an animal in heat. Like I did in the bathroom,µ he admitted, his voice hoarse.
She leaned up and held his face between her hands. ´Mac, I·ve told you before, I love
everything you
do to my body. Tender and sweet or wild and hot. You do it for me, no matter what. You take me there.µ
Her smile was breathtaking and his heart seemed to pause before it stuttered back to its normal cadence.
Ćan I make love to you now, the way I wanted, before I lost my mind?µ
´That sounds good to me,µ she whispered, raising her body. She placed her hands on his thick shaft,
angling it toward her opening.
´Wait, baby.µ He leaned over to the side drawer, where he kept some condoms, and her hand stilled
him.
Get Your Sexy On Page 18
