His lips were
surprisingly soft, his mouth tasting of whiskey and beer and really hot man. Suddenly he took control of the kiss, diving deeper, tongue tangling with hers with a possession that made her insides turn molten. She found herself pressed up against the glass facade of the building, Alex’s one hand still buried deep in her pocket, the other cupping the back of her head.
His body pressed tight to hers in a perfect fit. She didn
’t feel cold anymore. She felt like her skin was about to ignite. A groan reverberated in his chest though the hand trapped in her pocket remained frustratingly still and she desperately wanted him to touch her. She dragged her mouth from his on a gasp, suddenly aware they were in a public place.
“
Let’s go inside.” Her voice came out all breathy and sultry.
He eased away from her and disengaged her wallet from her pocket and took out the
keycard. Then he opened the lobby door for her. She headed inside, tugging his hand but he didn’t budge.
“
I can’t, Mallory.” The look in his eyes was tortured.
“
What?” After that kiss there was absolutely no doubt he wanted her.
“
I can’t come up,” he repeated.
“
Why not? Are you married?” The disappointment in her voice would have made her wince on a normal day. Today had never been normal. Today was Groundhog Day with a twist. Well, she wasn’t taking it anymore. If she had to strip naked in the street she was switching things up tonight and Alex Parker was just the man to help her.
“No
t married or involved with anyone else right now, but...” He laughed but there was enough desperation in the sound to deny the humor. “You’ve had too much to drink. You’re not thinking properly. I don’t want to be something you regret in the morning.”
D
ismay bubbled up inside her. “I’m not that drunk.”
He didn
’t look convinced.
“
Really.”
Please don’t change your mind.
She bit her lip and watched his pupils flare and didn’t think she was reading the signs wrong.
Okay
. She was going to have to seduce the guy. She frowned. How did you seduce a guy? If she’d ever known, she’d forgotten. He let go of her hand and she used the movement to slip out of her coat. It slid to the floor and, as Alex bent down to pick it up, the lobby door closed behind him. Grinning, she headed to the elevator, making sure she didn’t wobble on her damn heels. So what if she was slightly tipsy? Was that illegal? No, sir, it damn well wasn’t.
Holding the elevator door open she slipped out of her shoes and let them dangle from her fingers.
He stood there looking edgy and uncertain, holding her keycard in one hand and coat in the other.
“
I know what I’m doing, Mr. Parker.”
At that, one side of his mouth curled up and his eyes
gleamed. “I can see that.”
She leaned against the side of the elevator and then let go of the button. He eyed the door behind him like an escape route and she thought he was going to
just stand there as the doors closed between them. Then suddenly he was in the elevator and she didn’t even see him move.
***
He watched the drunken whore from the dark interior of his car. When the bastard pinned her to the wall outside her apartment block he wanted to pull his gun and put a bullet in them both. Today of all days he’d expected a little more respect for her sister’s memory. Fury expanded through his body. She wasn’t half the person Payton had been. She’d have been ashamed to see what her sister had become—a whore, a cheap cunt.
He checked his pistol.
Gripped the door handle just as they went inside the building.
Shit
.
He watched for a moment. Waited for a light to come on somewhere in the apartment b
uilding, but it never happened. The image of them fucking seared his brain. Even though she wasn’t Payton, watching them had been like seeing his beloved cheat on him and he couldn’t stand the idea. His heartbeat sped up and he imagined taking his knife and carving her sister’s name on her forehead. But she wasn’t even worthy of that. His hands shook as he started the engine. He’d carve
slut
instead.
He checked his shoulder and pulled away, driving out of the city and heading for Route 66. His plans had gone awry. He
’d expected to catch Mallory alone, maybe even waiting for him. A smile gripped his mouth. He was going to have to educate her on what he expected. Payton had never needed a lecture, not even a raised voice. She’d been perfect. Always happy to see him.
The highway was quiet even though it wasn
’t that late. He was working tomorrow so he needed to get back anyway. Just as well he hadn’t taken her tonight. He needed to figure out a plan of exactly how to deal with this female who looked so like the woman he’d loved but acted like a hooker. An idea formed—he needed to remind her of her sister, needed to make her give a damn. He was pretty sure he knew how to do it.
His eyes snagged a lone figure on the side of the road.
Female. Caucasian. Dark hair.
Don’t do it
. Temptation warred with common sense.
Keep driving
.
He indicated, slowed, and pulled over.
Dammit
. Rolled down the window. “Where you headed?”
The girl
—late teens, early twenties—took a hesitant step forward. “Gainesville.” Her eyes scanned the interior. Her teeth chattered as she huddled into her hoodie. It was well-below freezing with more snow on the way. “No offense but I only hitch with other women in the car.”
He shrugged.
“Fine by me, but good luck getting a woman to stop for you this time of night.” He started to roll the window back up but with a quick glance at the quiet highway, she put her fingers on top of the glass.
“
Wait!” Her smile was unsure. “Okay. I’d love a ride if you don’t mind.”
He smiled at her. She seemed like a nice kid, a hell of a lot more like Payton than Mallory was turning out to be.
“Hop in.”
She climbed in and braced her backpack on her lap. He pulled on
to the road and for the first time in hours felt good. He shot a quick glance at the girl’s profile. She had a sweet face. Brown eyes...
Maybe she was the one? Not Mallory, but this unknown girl?
He felt like he was being tested.
He sat straighter in his seat. He
’d figure it out. It would take time and patience and determination. That was okay. He had all three and Mallory Rooney wasn’t going anywhere he couldn’t follow.
***
This was a mistake. A huge unmitigated fucking disaster. But he needed to know Mallory was safely inside her apartment and then he’d leave. Yeah, he was a real boy scout. Always helping old ladies across the road and nailing serial killers between the eyes.
But maybe he could make this work. A quick in and out
—and not the sort his body craved.
If he got access to her laptop he could download software that let him monitor everything she did. He could also place the tiny camera he had in his pocket in her office or living room. He glanced at her across the elevator and resisted scrubbing his hand over his face.
Who the hell did he think he was kidding? He wanted her. But there was no way it was going to happen. She was drunk and hurting.
When he
’d followed her into that bar earlier he’d known she was on the verge of some precipice. He understood the significance of the date and how it might screw up someone who was usually sensible and sober. He’d intervened when he had seen a couple of guys eyeing her like fresh meat. Figured he’d watch her get drunk, scare off anyone bigger and hairier than he was, carry her home and make sure she got safely to bed. Alone. Despite being a cold-blooded killer, the chivalry gene was alive and well in his DNA.
Go figure.
It was still a workable idea. As long as he didn’t think about joining her. Because although his boss had ordered him to keep an eye on the special agent, it probably didn’t include shoving his tongue down her throat and checking out her tonsils.
Mallory leaned against the metal walls
of the elevator and ran one stocking-clad foot up and down the back of her calf. She looked so damn sexy he wanted to stop the thing then and there, and kiss her until neither of them could stand.
Not happening.
Just a few nights ago he’d confronted her in her bedroom and scared her half to death. Now he was kissing her? Playing with fire, that was for damn sure. Tonight she looked fragile and in need of protection. She looked as if one tiny ding might make her shatter, which immediately made him think about watching her come and he shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? What about this woman turned him inside out?
Prior to screwing up the Moroccan mission he
’d dated plenty of beautiful women who meant nothing to him—he didn’t even remember their names. Mallory was different. Everything about her was different; including the fact she was an FBI agent who’d nail his ass to the wall if she ever figured out what he really was.
It wasn
’t just her appearance that got to him, although those tilted eyes had an elfin look that did something to his insides. There was some inner glow that called to him.
Pussy
. He couldn’t afford this sort of attachment. He couldn’t afford to think about anything except fulfilling his commitment to The Gateway Project. Whatever people might think, he was an honorable man who paid his debts and kept his promises—five-hundred thirty-eight days and counting.
He stayed away from her during the elevator ride but the smell
of her subtle flowery scent, the sound of her uneven breaths, dragged across his nerves like razor wire. They went up to the sixth floor and he followed her to her father’s door, trying to keep his eyes off her body in that excuse for a dress.
“
Is this your place?” he asked. Like he didn’t know.
“
My father’s, but he lives in West Virginia.”
He followed her inside. The lights were off but the drapes were open, revealing a magnificent view of the city lit up for the festive season. A crackle of awareness shot over his skin as the door clicked shut behind him. Okay, she was home safe. He draped her coat over the back of the couch and watched her walk away from him. Just the sight of her drove him crazy. He started backing up. He
’d break in some other time to plant the bugs, when she wasn’t standing there looking so totally fuckable. Time to get out.
“
Would you like a drink?”
He spotted her laptop and hesitated. The chance of him gaining access to that was much lower because she took it almost everywhere with her and, as a
fed, she had decent security from malware. He could do it, but it might leave tracks. “Sure.”
The fact she
’d been transferred to Quantico before she’d had time to do more than run a few searches on vigilantes was both a relief and a worry. The inside man—or woman—was keeping a close eye on her but with Lucas Randall being the case officer investigating the Meacher murder, there was a chance Mallory would at some point share her suspicions with his buddy. Alex needed to know if and when that happened.
He hated lying to his friend, hated lying to this woman
who took her job seriously, but the alternative was much worse. The Gateway Project operated in stealth mode, however, this little wave of scrutiny had made everyone sink a little deeper into the shadows. Alex wasn’t sure how far a clandestine government organization like this would go to keep its secrets, but given the potential consequences of what they were doing, he figured they wouldn’t baulk at a few dead law enforcement officials along the way. No way would he let that happen.
He doubted Mallory was in any real danger from their operation, but right now he wasn
’t sure she was safe from herself.
“
You realize you brought a virtual stranger into your home? What if I was some sick bastard?”
“
You’re not.”
“
How do you know?”
“
Lucas is a good judge of character and he obviously likes you.” She bent over to turn on the stereo, that skimpy dress rising high enough to give him a heart attack. Despite the alcohol she’d consumed—with the efficiency of a sailor on shore leave—she moved with the fluid grace of a dancer. “I wouldn’t have brought just anyone home.” She waggled her finger at him. “Plus, I have a gun”—she sure as hell wasn’t armed right now because that dress wouldn’t hide a quarter let alone a pistol—“and friends in the IRS. So if you
are
a sick bastard I’ll make your life a living hell just as soon as I wake up Monday morning.”
Despite her attempt at humor
, something about the idea of Monday morning obviously depressed the shit out of her. What was that all about? BAU was a dream job for FBI agents, and she’d only been at Quantico for a day. She hadn’t even had time to unpack her desk yet, much less piss anyone off.