“Here?” She glanced around the echoing space, confusion and suspicion in her eyes.
“No.” Speaking of which, they’d better get the hell out of there. Standing, he pitched the basketball back into the bin. “It won’t be safe here for much longer. We could find somewhere else that would be neutral terrain.”
She shook her head, her dark braid swinging behind her. “You’ve been implicated in a crime. Soon you’ll be brought up on extortion charges. And you expect me to just take off with you to act as your financial adviser? You know damn well you need a lawyer, not a cop.”
Shifting to her feet, Vanessa backed up a step.
No doubt about it, she thought he was a lunatic. Frankly, Alec didn’t blame her. But she’d put them both in a precarious situation by finding him. He had to keep her close to protect her from his enemies or, at the very least, prevent her from turning him in and effectively signing his death warrant.
And he was prepared to use any means necessary— including the persistent chemistry that kept him distracted at every turn.
“I don’t need financial help.”
“Then what do you need?” Impatience strained her throaty voice.
Time to offer up the last trick in his bag of unholy bargaining tools.
“I need someone to take a look at the company accounting to help prove my innocence.”
What the hell was he doing? Changing his clothes two feet away on the other side of Sheetrock? He returned a minute later, wearing a pair of jeans. He carried a clean T-shirt in one hand and a leather satchel in the other.
“Actually, no.” She eyed him warily as he dropped the bag to the ground and then reached for the hem of the shirt he had on.
Oh.
In theory, she knew she ought to look away for her own good. In practice, however, her eyes remained glued to the scene as Alec pulled his shirt over his head. Leaving him bare chested and…wow.
“Well, I never touched a nickel that wasn’t mine.” Tossing the old shirt aside, he tugged the clean one on. “And I intend to prove it just as soon as I can compare my personal accounting records to whatever doctored BS files someone is using to incriminate me.”
Tearing her eyes away from the naked torso now imprinted on her memory, Vanessa searched for hidden agendas in his request.
“But I could use that information to build a case against you.”
“Too bad you’re not going to find anything incriminating in there about me because I’m innocent.”
His raised voice called her to look back to his square shoulders and hard pecs. She hadn’t experienced thoughts like this about a man in…well, almost never. She’d never been one of those types to get all sex crazed and foaming at the mouth over a guy, yet here she stood, remembering every inch of Alec Messina’s chest, despite the fact that he might be spending ten to fifteen years behind bars.
“You don’t look all that innocent from where I’m standing.” As soon as she made the remark, she realized she was commenting more on his rock-hard body and powerful arms than his degree of criminal aptitude.
Thankfully, Alec didn’t seem to notice, taking her words at face value.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He ducked back inside his office, continuing to shout to her through the open door as he shuffled through papers and drawers. “But I guarantee if you find something in those files that suggests I’ve stolen money, I’ll offer up both wrists for some of your cop bracelets. Deal?”
He reappeared in the gym with a ring of keys in hand.
“I’d have to be even more crazy than you to go off to some undisclosed location to read your books.” What if he was guilty as hell and desperate to escape a possible prison sentence?
No. She’d been ready to walk away from him earlier, but he’d called her back. A desperate man would have gladly allowed a detective to leave.
“You think it’s crazy to crack a big case? Snag a little interdepartmental spotlight for yourself?” Pocketing the keys, he stalked closer.
Of all the buttons he could have pressed, how did he know to lay on her need to succeed? That competitive streak had been her downfall more than once in her life.
But she was stronger than that now. She just had to remind herself she hadn’t gone into police work for the glory. Hell no. She was here to save people like the sister she’d failed.
The reminder put a lid on her strange attraction to Alec in a hurry.
“I can’t. This is more an FBI matter, anyhow.” Although, the promise of access to McPherson’s accounting files swayed her a bit. Not only did she fight off the need to solve a case, she also battled the hunger to bury herself in the comfort of numbers and financial data, two well-loved commodities she rarely indulged in her mission to make New York a safer place.
“Are you sure, Vanessa?” He took a step closer, his cross-trainers squeaking on the floor. “Because I can promise there will be arrests to be made by the time you figure out what’s going on. And I’m taking off now, whether you come with me or not. So if you want to keep an eye on me…”
Shrugging, he didn’t bother to spell it out. She knew he’d disappear into thin air again if she didn’t stick with him. And what were the chances she’d find him a second time after a stroke of good luck had helped her track him down the first?
Not to mention, she’d have to tell her lieutenant she’d found Alec Messina but had only succeeded in tipping him off…
Screw it. She didn’t have a real choice here anyhow. Her sister always called her the family pit bull because Vanessa couldn’t let something go once she’d had a taste of trouble. Letting Alec walk away now wasn’t even an option.
“Okay, Messina. You want me to take a look at your books? Fine.” Truth be told, she couldn’t wait. “But I can promise you, I’m not going to be sucked in by a bunch of bogus entries if you’ve tried to revise the data. The police department can obtain company records from your partners for comparison.”
“Fair enough.” Retrieving his bag, he looked her in the eye. “I’ve got outside documentation to support most of my transactions anyhow. I’m not asking for special treatment.”
“Except for your own personal detective to solve your criminal problems.” She didn’t intend to cut him any slack just because she’d agreed to look at the accounts. And she sure as hell wouldn’t just wander off with a potentially dangerous man without some consideration to her own safety. Gena’s battle for her life had taught her better. “But before we go anywhere, I think a few basic precautions are in order.”
Like no more simmering looks. And definitely no more touching. She didn’t like the idea of him knowing how much he fired her up.
But she didn’t plan on sharing those particular safety measures with him.
“You want to take separate cars and meet up somewhere?” His agreeable tone suggested he’d already thought of this.
And while Vanessa appreciated his idea of caution, that’s not what she had in mind. For that matter, maybe she’d be better off not letting Alec Messina out of her sight. A man this eager to stay hidden wouldn’t resurface again for a long time.
“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of making sure you didn’t stash any weapons on your person when you disappeared into your office.” She hadn’t been able to keep her eye on him the whole time, and that worried her.
He stared at her for a long moment before the barest trace of a smile kicked up one side of his mouth. A full, sensual mouth with as much character as every other inch of his face.
Had she really thought she could keep a lock on the simmering looks they exchanged? A little more proof she was clueless when it came to men. And sex.
“Are you saying you’d like to frisk me?” His low words carried a hint of suggestiveness, as if he were proposing a romp in the sheets instead of a preventive measure.
“Don’t get too excited. I’m a professional at this.” At least she always had been in the past. The thought of frisking Alec and that way-too-masculine body of his suddenly made her hands itchy for a thorough feel. Not exactly the thoughts of a detached expert.
Amazing, considering she hadn’t itched to touch a man for four long years.
“I’m sure you have a very skilled touch.” He bent to set his bag on the ground at his feet, oblique muscles tensing against the fabric of his T-shirt as he moved. “By all means, Vanessa. Feel away.”
His open invitation caught her off guard, rattling her when it should have relieved her. But the procedure that had seemed so clinical a few moments ago now took on whole new shades of meaning.
Clearing her throat, she sought for some of the distance that had come so naturally to her for the past five years.
“I prefer to think of it as a search rather than a feel.” Her words sounded just a little bit breathless to her own ears, a stranger’s voice in her head.
His dark eyes, an even deeper brown than her own, fixed on her with searing intensity. “Call it whatever you like, but we need to get it over with before anyone else gets wind of me being here.”
The step he took toward her touched a match to the last shreds of her cool reserve. Heat swamped her, confused her, blurred her pit-bull instincts. She didn’t stand a chance in hell of touching him with dispassionate hands, but how could she back down now after proposing the idea herself?
To do so would show him a weakness she could barely admit to herself, let alone a stranger. And damn it, she wouldn’t bury her head in the sand and pretend that just because she felt some sort of bizarre attraction to Alec didn’t mean that he wouldn’t hurt her. She was a good cop because she knew better.
Swallowing the lump of uncertainty in her throat, she snapped at him. “Well turn around, for crying out loud.” She made a spinning gesture with her finger. “I can’t very well frisk you when you’re glaring at me like that.”
Sighing, he pivoted on the heel of his shoe, facing away from her. “Happy now?”
He was still fuming—both with anger and with raw sex drive—when he remembered she stood behind him fully armed.
“Wait.” Whirling on her, he half expected to see her standing there with her gun cocked at brain level, ready to dish out his uncle’s retribution.
Instead, he caught her completely by surprise. A scant arm’s length away, she had moved closer, her unarmed hands frozen in midair as she reached for him. A whoosh of relief nearly knocked him off his feet, and even as he thanked God for not taking advantage of his momentary mental lapse, he suddenly comprehended the expression on Vanessa’s face.
Blatant sexual awareness. And even more startling— vulnerability.
“What?” Recovering herself, she fisted her fingers at her side. “You move on me that fast again, Messina, and you’ll be staring down the wrong end of a barrel.”
He could hardly get his brain around the fact that Vanessa had been unsure of herself for even a moment. Is that why she’d hesitated when it came time to frisk him? The heat between them?
“Actually, that’s what precipitated the hasty move. When you didn’t touch me right away, I wondered if you were going for a weapon.”
She let out a pent-up breath, the minty exhalation reminding him how close they were standing. “You’ve been hanging around the wrong people for too long if you think I’d pull a gun on a man who’d willingly put his back to me.”
Indignation laced her words. But she didn’t step away.
“I still wondered if you might be working for my uncle.” He knew she couldn’t be. Not now. Not after that moment of naked emotion he’d seen scrawled across her face. “He’s got plenty of cops on the take.”
Their panting breaths mingled, the mixture of suspicions and fears they’d been dancing around all evening coming to a head.
“Not this one.” She met his gaze with boldness, the truth of her words—even her own pride in them—perfectly evident.
“I was going to ask you to put the gun aside while you frisked me.” He nudged his way deeper into her personal space, closing the distance between them to just a few inches.
“Still don’t trust me?” Her throaty purr wrapped around him like sex in stereo, an auditory act of foreplay.
“Actually, I do. But now that I’m toying with the idea of touching you, I think maybe you’d feel more at ease if I didn’t have access to your firearm, either.” When he put his hands on her again, he didn’t want her to worry he was making a play for the piece. And how warped was that for a concern of intimacy? What happened to the old days when a first kiss meant you might knock braces? Now you needed to be sure all parties put their ammo aside.
“That’s okay.” Nose to nose, she gave him a smile of mocking indulgence. “We already know I can kick your ass if I need to, sport. With or without the gun.”
That took the damn cake.
He reached a hand up to her neck and curled his fingers under the collar of her jacket. “If you think you can wound my ego while you’re breathing so heavy I can hear it, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“And if you think you can wound any other part of me by getting into my pants, you’re going to walk away very disappointed.” She parted her lips just enough to flash him a hint of bared teeth. “I’m unbreakable as far as you’re concerned.”
He wondered if she’d ever lost control in bed and sank those perfect white teeth of hers into some unsuspecting man’s shoulder.
“I’ll consider myself warned.” Not that it would stop him from touching her more. Not now. “For the record, I don’t give a damn if you’re unbreakable. I just want to see you unravel.”
Her skin burned against his palm, her lips glistening with damp heat. He would get her out of here, away from his compromised hideout, just as soon as he claimed one small taste of her.
Diving down those last few inches, he sealed his mouth to hers. Locked her torso against his with both arms until the scent of soft roses and sexy-as-hell woman drifted up from her skin. The mint flavor of her lips did little to cool the simmering of blood through his veins.
A sudden need to feel every inch of her pressed close consumed him, sending his hands on a roving quest up and down her body to draw her nearer. He nudged her shoulder blade with his palm and felt her breasts flatten against his ribs. He dipped down into the notch of her waist and found her abs tightening along his groin. Her body responded easily, her limbs toned and taut beneath the linen jacket he flicked off her shoulders.
Her muffled cry echoed through the rafters and reverberated in his ears. She arched fully against him, extending up on her toes to align their bodies more evenly. Skimming herself up his rigid erection with mouthwatering effect.
He moved his hands lower, savoring the feel of her, but she dodged his touch before he could reach her lower spine. He’d ask her about that in a minute—knew damn well she was hiding something. Right now he settled for cupping her sweetly rounded ass with both hands, drawing her up even higher as he plunged his tongue deeper in her mouth. Taking more than just a taste, he plundered all he could, just like the thief she thought him. In this much, at least, she could be right. He’d steal every sighing breath, every moaning cry and every shiver of excitement she couldn’t hide from him now that he had her wrapped in his arms.
Tilting her head to one side, she gave him deeper access, more room to savor the slick wintergreen warmth of her mouth. His lips slid over hers with slow, fascinated strokes until he found a rhythm that made her go utterly slack against him.
Yes.
He took far more pleasure with the upper hand here than he would have on the gym mats earlier. Vanessa Torres might have slammed him to his knees with a kick, but he’d have her melting to hers with a kiss in no time at all. And damn, but that victory tasted sweet.
He speared his fingers into the loosened hair that escaped her braid, testing the silky length of the rebellious strands. Anchoring her to him by cupping the back of her head, Alec took pleasure in the sure movement of her fingers up and down his spine. His sides. His hips.
He’d never met a woman so certain of herself and ready to claim what she wanted. When her fingers strayed below the belt line, his satisfaction increased tenfold.
That is, until she reached even lower. And lower.
What the hell?
Thrusting her away, he gripped her shoulders with both hands, his anger back with a vengeance.
“If you’re trying to frisk me now, woman, let me spare you the trouble.” Yanking her wrist forward, he steered her palm to rest on the only weapon he carried. “Thanks to you, I’m damn well armed.”