Authors: Lori Foster
“Yeah, just dandy.” She might’ve been raped, then murdered in a back room off an alley. But she discounted that peril completely. “Pay attention to your feet before you fall.”
“Nag, nag.” When they reached the truck, she launched into chatter again. “It was so cool how you came out of nowhere like a big avenging angel. A dark angel. And bam.” She threw a shadow punch. “You took it out of old Carl. One blow, and that sucker was done for.”
Spencer held her door open, saying nothing. Still smiling, she slid into her seat.
“You did that in the bar, too. I should call you One-Shot Spence, or something catchy like that. Maybe when I’m more sober, I can come up with a good name for you.”
Again checking the area, Spencer closed her door, then went around the truck and got behind the wheel. He immediately locked the doors and started the truck.
Oblivious to his mood, Arizona said, “I broke Carl’s fingers. Did you see that?”
“No.” All he’d seen was Carl dragging her away… His heart ached, just remembering. He never wanted to see anything like that again.
“Must’ve been after he got me into the alley.” Arizona made a twisting motion in the air. “Felt damn good, getting him like that. You know he had broken poor Quin’s finger, right? I wanted to pay him back in kind. But you know, I wasn’t even thinking about that when it happened. He tried to choke me—the dick—and I went on auto-drive.” She gave him a fat smile. “See, training pays off. Told you everything would be fine.”
Adrenaline still pumped through Spencer’s veins, making everything she said feel like nails on a chalkboard. “Put on your seat belt.”
After a long look, she huffed at him. “You are being such a pill.” She latched the belt.
A pill? He wanted to raze that goddamned bar and half the men in it, yet he held on to his temper—just barely. Spencer put the truck in gear and, deciding he needed to get moving before he blew, pulled out to the road.
“Wish I could have stomped on old Terry a little more, too.
Cowboy.
” She snorted in utter disdain. “What an ass.”
Grinding his teeth, Spencer tuned her out and concentrated on his driving. They got a few blocks more before she started in again.
“He thought he’d break me in. That’s what he said. His exact words. Can you believe that?
I’d
break
him.
” She laughed. “Just like I broke Carl’s fingers.” She reached over and patted Spencer’s thigh. “And just like you broke the rest of him.”
At her touch, his whole body tensed more.
The pat turned into a tentative stroke, moved to his inner thigh, and Arizona gave a bold and curious squeeze. While playing with him, she said, “I hope when we go back, I get a shot at Terry—”
Primed to the breaking point, Spencer snapped, “Enough!” He knew he wouldn’t make it until they reached his home, so he jerked the truck off to the side of a busy street. He put it in Park with jarring impact.
Clenching the steering wheel, he struggled, striving for a calm that remained well out of reach.
A
RIZONA
TIPPED
HER
HEAD
to study him. “Damn, Spence, what’s the matter? You
get a bee in your boxers?”
He ignored her question.
Something felt wrong—something beyond Arizona’s cavalier disposition and
inebriated boasting. He searched the streets, watching for a tail, but saw
nothing.
When his cell phone rang, he
grabbed it up, expecting the worst. “Yeah?”
“You’re clear,” Dare said. “A
cop started to follow you, but I took care of it.”
He looked around and still saw
no one—not even Dare. “Just like that?”
“Yes.”
Itching for violence, needing
release, he breathed hard.
“You okay?” Dare
asked.
“Yeah.” He ran a hand over his
face. More curious than alarmed, he said, “About that cop…”
“We work with them when
possible. Sometimes we have to exclude them so they don’t get in the way,
but we do not commandeer their authority when it’s avoidable, and we never
consider them expendable.”
He knew they didn’t harm
innocent bystanders, but the rest was news to him. From what he’d observed
so far, the trio recognized only their own command. “Good to
know.”
Arizona turned in the seat and
treated him to a dreamy-eyed smile.
Places on his body that were
already jumpy twitched in redirected interest. She reached for him, but
Spencer caught her hand and held it still. Thinking of how the lights had
gone out, he said to Dare, “So it all went down already?”
“It did. I can explain later,
but a situation arose that forced my hand and gave us enough reason to move
in ahead of schedule.”
Arizona stiffened. “What do you
mean it went down? What? The bar?”
He shushed her while rubbing his
thumb over her knuckles and, then to Dare added, “You got Carl?”
“I sent two officers around to
that room off the alley to collect him. I got Terry Janes myself.” Amusement
entered Dare’s tone when he said, “You can tell Arizona that Janes
resisted.”
No, he wouldn’t tell her a damn
thing. Not yet anyway. Resistance would mean Dare had had to restrain Terry,
and that meant he’d probably pulverized the guy. The last thing Arizona
needed was more encouragement toward fighting.
Instead, Spencer concentrated on
getting the facts. “He was the one running things?”
“He hasn’t admitted as much yet,
and we don’t make assumptions.”
“What do you think?”
“My gut tells me something more
is going on.”
“Damn.”
“We’ll have confirmation
soon.”
“The workers?” Arizona
asked.
Spencer repeated her
question.
“Everyone we could find is now
safe.”
He nodded to Arizona and saw her
slump back in relief. It touched him that she’d been so genuinely concerned
for people she didn’t know.
Dare added, “We got info on
another group of young Hispanics in transit. They would have mostly been
used for labor at a nearby motel, but a few of the females were intended for
trafficking. They should be freed within the hour.”
Incredible. “So Janes spilled
his guts about that?”
“No, but he will.” Before
Spencer could ask, Dare said, “Actually, it was two bozos I found around
back in a van. But I can catch you up on that later.”
Like hell. “Tell me now.” His
gaze landed on Arizona. And because he already knew it, he said, “They were
there for her, weren’t they?”
“Afraid so.” Dare didn’t mince
words. “The driver did most of the spilling, but both men were anxious to
share.” He paused, then added, “I can be convincing.”
Again, he had to reach for lost
control. But he had to think of Arizona. He had to get her to his house, and
he had to find a way to convince her to stay away from dangerous situations.
“So now what?”
“Whenever we can keep a low
profile, we do. We’ll continue to oversee things, to ensure we get the
results we want.”
“Meaning no one walks
away?”
Dare didn’t reply to that. “We
have a good relationship with the special agent in charge. He’s organized an
effective task force, and he has all the contacts he needs to take this
through the proper legal channels.”
Catching Arizona’s wandering
hands again, Spencer shook his head at her and whispered, “Stop
that.”
Dare laughed. “She enjoyed
herself?”
“Seems like.”
Still amused, Dare said, “Get
her home safe, Spencer.”
“Working on it.” Since he held
the phone, he ended up playing one-handed patty-cake with Arizona to keep
her from molesting him.
His resistance was on shaky
ground already—he didn’t need her enticement, too.
She pretended to pout, then put
her head back and closed her eyes on a lusty yawn.
“We’re heading to my place now.”
The sooner he got her tucked in for the night, the sooner he could loosen
his knotted muscles.
“Great. For the time being, keep
her there. At least until we meet at my place. We’ll catch up then.” And
with that Dare was gone.
Frowning with new concern,
Spencer folded the phone and put it back in his pocket.
“What now?” Arizona
asked.
He shook his head. Did Dare want
Arizona to continue staying with him because someone had gotten loose? Or
was it just a precaution?
“You’re keeping something from
me.” Resentment chased away her lethargy and had her gathering
steam.
“No.” To forestall the
fireworks, Spencer said, “I’m just a little amazed that it’s all
over.”
“Did they have to kill
anyone?”
He frowned over her bloodthirsty
tendencies. “Dare said he’ll fill us in on the details when we get to his
place tomorrow.” He hesitated, but he needed her cooperation right now. “For
the time being, he wants you to stay with me.”
“Mmm.” Rather than argue, she
asked, “And how do you feel about that?”
“It’s not a problem for me.”
Hell, the only problem would be if she tried to leave him now.
At his answer, Arizona gave him
such a wanton look that his guts cramped. He felt tortured, bordering on a
loss of control, and she wanted to…flirt?
Trying not to stare at her
mouth, he said, “What’s up with you?”
With a secret smile, she lifted
one bare shoulder. “I did a side-by-side analysis, that’s all.”
He had no idea what to make of
that. “I don’t follow.”
She released her seat belt to
turn toward him. After taking her gaze over him, his chest, his
shoulders—his lap—she looked into his eyes and said huskily, “You, Spencer
Lark, stand out.”
“Among those scumbags?” He
turned toward her, too. He had one arm along the back of the seat, the other
draped over the steering wheel. “Jesus, I hope so.”
“Definitely when compared to
them, but from all other men, as well.”
Her admiration put another crack
in his already weakening resolve. Spencer tried scoffing at her. “You’re
drunk.”
“Yeah, a little.” Easing closer
still, she said, “But it’s not like I’m totally shit-faced or
anything.”
Did she curse on purpose?
“You’re not thinking straight.”
“Actually, I was thinking about
it a lot even before the whiskey. Even before I walked into the
bar.”
Good God. Feeling cornered by
her intent and his own heated interest, he asked, “About
what?
”
“You. How you look. The things
you do, and why you do them.” She drew a breath and her eyes grew heavy.
“How you make me feel.”
“I panic you,” Spencer reminded
her. Okay, so during that last kiss he’d given her, she hadn’t exactly been
fighting him. And before going in the bar,
she’d
kissed
him.
A barely there
kiss, but still… “I have to coerce you into every single—”
“No, you don’t.” She shook her
head. “Not anymore.”
Spencer considered her
assurances. She might think that now, but she wouldn’t if he put it to the
test. If he kissed her as he wanted to.
The way he craved.
“Okay, then.” He’d give her a
more thorough taste that would help to remind them both of how she really
felt and of everything she still had to overcome. “Maybe you ought to pay
up?”
She gave a quizzical
look.
“You cursed, Arizona.” Trusting
that she’d shy away, he pushed her. “A whole lot of curses,
actually.”
“Hmm. Well, damn.” She breathed
a little harder, a little faster. “Guess I forgot myself.”
Could she find a more inventive
way to make him suffer? “Arizona…”
“But what the hell, right?” Her
twitching smile proved a taunt; she deliberately threw out the curses.
“These are extenuating circumstances.”
Anticipation rode him, amped up
his determination and his lust. “You’re playing with fire.”
“I know. But not cursing has
been a real…” long, dark lashes lifted, and her gaze locked on his
“…bitch.”
That did it. She asked for
it.
Hell, she
begged
for
it.
And why not? It’d probably take
no more than one real kiss before she’d be backing up and rethinking her
brazenness.
She didn’t really want
him.
She didn’t really want any of
this.
Set on his course, Spencer said,
“Time for me to collect, then, so sit still.”
But she didn’t. As he leaned
toward her, she licked her lips and suddenly launched herself at
him.
Taken off guard, he didn’t
resist as her mouth landed on his, not brief, but open, hot. He tasted the
sharp bite of the whiskey first and then the sweetness of her tongue as she
took his mouth without reserve.
Oh, God.
He tried to pull
back.
Sort of.
He got his hands on her upper
arms…but didn’t quite push her away as he meant to.
She made a sound of hunger and
deepened the kiss.
Heat flared, and his dick
twitched to attention.
So did his
conscience.
The easiest explanation for her
quick turnaround was that on top of the adrenaline high, she’d had way too
many drinks.
But damn, her mouth felt good
and tasted good, too. Before he even realized it, he had his hand tangled in
her long hair, his mouth slanting over hers, their tongues
dueling.
He pulled her closer as he
leaned back so that she sprawled over his chest. Instead of recoiling,
Arizona moaned.
Shit.
He freed his mouth, then had to
hold her away as she tried to crawl up onto his lap.
“Honey…wait.”
“No.”
“We have to stop.”
“Can’t.”
Honest need sounded in her tone,
and Spencer’s control fragmented. A kiss hadn’t dampened her enthusiasm at
all. Hell, it had spurred her on.
Because of the alcohol.
Never in his life had he taken
advantage of an inebriated woman, and he sure as hell wouldn’t start with
Arizona. He had to pull it together and fast, or he’d do something they both
might regret. “Arizona,
stop.
”
He held her back the length of
his arms.
The look she gave him would have
reduced most guys to a puddle. Hurt, embarrassment, even desperation—he saw
it all in her beautiful blue eyes.
He shored up his resistance and
touched her cheek—and prayed that he was the only one to notice how his hand
shook. “You promised me you’d be okay.”
Confusion overtook
embarrassment. “What are you talking about?”
“Before you went in the bar. You
gave me your word that you’d be fine.”
Overflowing with frustration,
she held out her arms. “And I
am.
”
“Bruised and bleeding is not
fine. It’s a long way from fine.” He gave the corner of her mouth one last
stroke, smoothing a darkening bruise with his thumb. “You got
struck.”
“A little backhand, that’s all.”
She reached for him again. “It’s nothing.”
“Maybe not to you.” He held her
at bay, and this time she let him. “But to me it’s a lot. It damn near
killed me when that bastard hit you.”
“Yeah?”
Telling her too much would only
encourage her. “I want to get you home, cleaned up, and then you need to
sleep off the whiskey.”
She leaned in to put her head on
his shoulder, cuddling close—and he let her.
“I don’t want to.”
The rejection stiffened his
spine; her nearness, the scent of her, stiffened everything else. “You don’t
want to come home with me?”