Cajun Spice (6 page)

As the day wore on and they wandered through the French Quarter, ate excellent Cajun food, and watched another parade, he did his best to study her, looking for any clue this was all a big act with her. He found none. All he saw was a delightful, sexy, smart, funny woman who he wanted to keep in his life.

He loved the way the sun picked up the blonde highlights in her hair. The way her incredible hazel eyes shone with laughter when they came upon something especially amazing. The light blue tee shirt she wore lay softly against the breasts he’d worshiped with his mouth for the past three nights, the nipples slightly visible like large gumdrops. Navy shorts hugged her nicely rounded hips and accentuated her toned legs that he could still feel wrapped around his body, pulling his cock tightly into her hot wet heat. Even now the mere thought of it had him harder than a steel spike.

“You look like you’re deep in thought.”

Daisy’s voice broke into his introspection, and he gave himself a mental shake. They were sitting at a little bistro table at a sidewalk café, drinking something called Mardi Gras Punch. She looked relaxed and happy, the lines of tension that had surrounded her eyes and mouth almost gone, her body relaxed.

“Just thinking about how gorgeous and sexy you are,” he told her. “And how I can’t wait to get you out of those clothes later.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Is that more of that spicy Cajun line?”

“No line, Daisy.” He set his drink down, leaned across the small table, and took her free hand in his. “I know this started out as two people having a good time, but damn, woman. I don’t think I want this to end come Sunday.”

She looked down at their joined hands, the smile disappearing from her face.

“Oh, Marc.” She sighed.

“Something wrong,
chere
?” He pressed his finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up so she had to look at him. “I thought we were reading from the same page here. You’ll be back in New York. I’ll be back in New York. We can see where this thing goes, right?”

He caught himself in mid thought.

Where this thing goes?
Exactly what was this
thing
,
anyway
?

This was supposed to be nothing more than a few days of fun and maybe some great sex between two people. At least that was how it started out. But his idea to romance her and entertain her and get her to spill her secrets wasn’t working out quite the way he’d expected. Not only was the romancing turning out to be much more, but he also was becoming more and more convinced she had no knowledge of or participation in Craig Myers’ scheme. Even if she did want to be a forensic accountant.

He really needed to talk to Larry. That was who the texts had been from earlier, promising there might be more information later today. Marc wanted to know what it was and also to pass along his opinion of the situation. He just hoped he could do it all without Daisy getting wind of it.

They explored the shops in the French Quarter, studying the window displays, even visiting a few advertising voodoo and love spells.

“You lookin’ to cast a spell, Miss Daisy?” Marc teased.

“I want to be able to say I checked it out.” She grinned. “Part of the New Orleans experience, right?”

But in one of the little typical New Orleans shops, she found a tiny silver charm in the shape of a daisy and Marc insisted on buying for her.

“Will this cast a spell over me?” She gave him a mischievous look.

“Let’s hope so,” he teased right back. “At least for while we’re here.”

When he fastened the chain around her neck, he felt a tiny shiver and swallowed a smile.

“Thank you so much. You shouldn’t have, but I’m not giving it back.” She caressed the small charm, where it lay just above the swell of her breasts and damn! He wished it were his fingers on her skin.

“Good.” He kissed her shoulder. “You’ll have a souvenir of our little adventure.”

They stopped for dinner at a place he knew along that night’s parade route, a place that offered what he believed to be the best po’ boys in New Orleans. While Daisy studied the menu, he took advantage of the opportunity to duck into the men’s room and call Larry.

“You have something new for me?” he asked.

“I thought I would by now,” the man told him, “but I’m still waiting for a couple of calls. I think we may have figured out where all that cash went when it disappeared.”

“Yeah? Where’s that?”

“One of our most reliable sources told us Myers converted it to diamonds.”

“Diamonds, huh? Well, that makes sense. They’re portable and untraceable.” He frowned. “Any word from those sources where he might try to peddle them?”

“No, but we’ve got people checking all the under-the-table diamond markets. My guess is he has some private buyers lined up.” There was a pause. “What’s doing with your target?”

Marc hated to have Daisy branded as a target. More and more he had come to believe she was an innocent pawn in all of this, left holding the bag. He needed to get this cleared up quickly, so he could hopefully move forward on a personal relationship with her. If only he knew what her reservations were about the two of them continuing to see each other when they were back in New York.

He was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of the embezzlement. Find out who was really involved and how quickly he could clear Daisy’s name. This had become intensely personal for him now, and he was doing a delicate balancing act. He couldn’t let Larry know how rapidly things had developed between he and Daisy, and he couldn’t let her know the real reason he’d hooked up with her in New Orleans. He hoped by the time he talked to his boss after tonight there would be a sign things were falling into place, and that whatever fell wouldn’t be his head.

Daisy was pleasantly mellow by the time they returned to the hotel. The food, the drinks, the excitement of the Mardi Gras color in the streets had all worked to soothe out any misgivings she might be harboring about her situation with Marc. Draped around her neck were strands of colorful beads Marc had caught for her when they were thrown from balconies overlooking the streets. The celebration was really one giant party, exactly as she’d always heard, and it was working its magic on her.

Mostly.

A little thrill had wriggled through her when he talked about still seeing each other in New York, but she’d had to squash it immediately. Her situation was so uncertain, the prospect of additional fallout still omnipresent, that she didn’t think this was a very good time to work on a relationship.

Not that she wouldn’t have liked to. The few days with Marc had glaringly pointed out the flaws in her situation with Craig. Why had she never seen before how selfish he was, how driven, how obsessed with things. All those unexpected overnight trips he’d made had almost convinced her he was seeing someone else on the side. Now she realized each time he was doing something relating to the money he stole. She’d heard of people who embezzled huge amounts from clients, moved it to an offshore bank then travelled down there on several trips to withdraw the cash and turn it into something less traceable, like bearer bonds or jewels.

How stupid she’d been. Was she even in any condition for a new relationship, especially with a man like Marc? She’d wanted a few days that would be an escape from her situation, but she had never considered taking it beyond that. She had too many loose ends to settle and her own bad judgment to deal with first.

“You’re very quiet,
chere.
” His voice rolled over her like melted chocolate, and his arm around her sent shivers through her body. “Everything okay?”

She deliberately pushed everything to a far corner of her mind and leaned into the male strength of him.

“It’s fine. Better than fine.”

“That’s good. Because in a few minutes I’m going to make the evening even better.”

She had been so preoccupied when they rode up in the elevator and walked down the hall that she hadn’t realized they had reached his room instead of hers. Marc slipped his key card in the slot, pushed the door open, and smiled down at her.

“I thought a change of scene would be nice,” he told her. “Besides, I have some surprises in here for you.”

“Surprises?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“Go on in, darlin’, and you’ll see what I mean.”

The room was nearly a duplicate of hers, balcony and all. “

She noticed it was surprisingly neat. Craig had always expected her to pick up after him, and she assumed, since Marc was alone, his room would be at least slightly messy. But the pristine appearance of it took second place to the room service cart set up by the balcony. She moved over to it slowly, her jaw dropping when she saw what it held.

Plump ripe strawberries glistened on a china tray, circled around a silver bowl filled with glossy dark chocolate. Next to it, in a silver bucket, two bottles of champagne nestled in a bed of crushed ice, flutes standing beside it like crystal sentinels.

She turned to Marc. “You ordered all this?”

“Sure did.” His lips curved in the sexy grin that turned her on so much. “I wanted to see how you looked in chocolate.”

“Oh? I thought we were supposed to eat it.”

“That we are. And I have a special method for doing so.”

Cupping her face with his lean fingers, he held her head in place as he lowered his lips to hers. The simple contact with his mouth sent sparks sizzling through her. As always, an instant tingle ripped through her nipples and electricity jolted right to her core. She was immediately wet, her cream flooding her thong. How did he do that to her, arouse her so quickly with nothing more than a kiss?

His lips caressed hers gently at first, warm and soft, before his tongue came out to trace the seam of her mouth. Then a little pressure, urging her to open for him. But instead of a bold thrust inside, his entry into her wet heat was a gentle glide. He tasted every surface he touched, skimming over it again and again until, with nothing more than his tongue in her mouth, he’d made her weak in the knees and trembling, aching for more.

He took his time touching and tasting, even when with little moans she begged for more. By the time he slid his mouth across her cheek, trailing little kisses along her jawline and down to her neck, she had to clutch his wrists to keep upright. He traced her neck to the sensitive spot behind her ear, taking the opportunity to gently nip at her ear lobe. Then he moved his mouth along her collarbone, lightly scraping his teeth until he reached the hollow of her throat where she knew her pulse had to be beating furiously. She could feel the thunder of her blood in her veins.

Then back to her lips, exploring her mouth again. He gently eased her hands from his wrists and down to his waist so he could tug her tank top over her head. She felt his tongue trace the upper swell of her breasts again and again before he moved farther down and bit lightly on one aching nipple, taking in the fabric of her bra along with the hard tip.

“Mmm.” The sound whispered from her and drifted on the air as she leaned into him, urging him to do more, more, more.

Marc lifted his head enough to look at her with those blue eyes that were now the color of a storm-tossed ocean. “Takin’ my time today,
chere.
I don’t want to rush and miss one thing here.”

He turned his attention to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment, sucking and lightly biting. Daisy was having a hard time keeping her balance, but she didn’t want to move and risk losing the feel of his mouth. When Marc unclasped her bra, slid the straps down her arms, and tossed the bit of satin to the side, the faint breeze of the air conditioner on her wet nipples made them tighten even more.

“So sweet,” he murmured, his mouth on her breast again. “Like those strawberries we’ve got waitin’ here.”

He reached beside him to the table and plucked one piece of the ripe fruit with his fingers, rubbed it softly back and forth against one breast, squeezing it until a little of its sugary juice ran down her the surface of her skin. The slow licks of his tongue across the rounded flesh sent more shivers racing through her. She clung to his waist to steady herself, sure if she let go she’d collapse in a puddle on the floor. And all he’d done was tease and tantalize her breasts! She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sensations cascading through her as he continued to dribble strawberry juice first on one mound then the other and savor it with lazy laps of his tongue. She squeezed her legs together to contain the throbbing in her internal walls, an ache that spread through her entire body.

When everything around her had faded and she could only focus on the sensations he was rousing in her, he lifted her and placed her on the bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge. With agonizing slowness he eased her shorts down her legs and dropped them with her other clothing. Leaving the thong in place, he knelt between her thighs and proceeded to kiss his way from one ankle up to the tender crease where hip and thigh joined. He pressed the tip of his tongue into the slight indentation before repeating the procedure with the other leg.

Every touch, every caress, ignited her a little more, until she was writhing with need.

Some little voice in the back of her brain reminded her he’d barely gotten started. When he grabbed the edge of her thong with his teeth and dragged it down over her neatly trimmed pubic curls, she tried to thrust her hips at him, tried to urge him to do more and faster, but again, he was determined to set his own pace. His tongue was a flame, setting her on fire as he traced the line of her curls and dipped between the lips of her pussy to taste her liquid.

He eased the thong down her legs slowly, his knuckles brushing the inside of her thighs sent more tremors through her.

“Close your eyes,” he told her in his warm voice, his breath hot on her skin. “And keep them closed.”

Daisy obeyed then jolted when she felt the touch of something cool on her mound.

“Adding a little sugar, sugar,” Marc told her, a hint of teasing in his voice. “Let’s see if I can drink strawberry juice strained through these tight little curls.