Hotter Than Hell (27 page)

This had to stop. Not the elevator—him. Or I wouldn’t want to. I squeezed my other hand between us, and pushed with both. Not too much, just enough to remove the heat of his lips from my neck. “So now you’re saying I’ve got a fat ass? Charming.”

His gaze scorched mine, blue eyes rich with amusement and lust. It was the same sort of lust that pounded through me—the hot, let’s get down and dirty, right here, right now, type of lust.

Damn it, why couldn’t I find that sort of intensity with someone I didn’t work with?

“You’re determined to twist everything I say, aren’t you?” he said, deep voice edged with amusement.

“Yes.” Because sarcasm was my only line of safety. I was far too susceptible to this man’s charms otherwise.

I ducked under his arms as the elevator finally halted and the doors opened. The simple act of walking was an effort, because my heart still raced a million miles an hour and my legs were all fluid and wobbly. It was just as well Frank’s office was down the far end of the hall—at least it gave me time to gather some sort of composure.

Ethan reappeared by my side, his long strides curtailed to match my shorter ones.

“Why?” he said. I was still so attuned to him his voice seemed to flow over my skin as sensually as a warm summer breeze. “The attraction between us is getting stronger, and you can’t keep denying it exists.”

I could, and I would. For as long as we had to work together, and maybe even after that. “There has to be hundreds of women working in this building. Why don’t you go try your luck with the half you haven’t sampled?”

Something flashed in his eyes. Something that looked an awful lot like annoyance. “Because I’m attracted to you, not them.”

Attracted to the challenge more than the person, I suspected. “Yeah, well, I have no intention of becoming another notch on your bedpost.” As much as my hormones danced excitedly at the very idea.

“What if I promise to make that notch worthwhile?”

His grin was pure cheek, and I couldn’t help responding in kind. The man might be a dangerous rogue, but he was undoubtedly a sexy one. “Not even then.”

He stopped to open Frank’s door then ushered me through, his fingers searing my spine though his touch was feather light.

“The more you challenge me, the more determined I get,” he murmured.

His words sent another tremor racing across my skin. Lord, if what he was doing now wasn’t determination, what was? And how was I going to survive it?

Janet, Frank’s secretary, glanced up as we both walked in. “Go straight through,” she said, her gaze lingering appreciably on Ethan.

“Thanks, Janet,” he said, voice so intimate the older woman blushed.

I shook my head, and continued on through the second door. Like most werewolves, the man just couldn’t help flirting—and that was part of the problem. If I’d had any reason to believe he was after anything more serious than a quick roll in the sack, then maybe I’d reconsider—

I scratched the rest of that thought from my mind as Frank, our semi-bald boss, glanced up.

“Sit down,” he said.

“What’s the problem?” I crossed my legs so that my feet pointed away from Ethan. Even an accidental touch could be deadly given the aroused state he’d so easily worked me into.

“We’ve got a couple of missing kids I want you to look for.”

“When and where?” Ethan asked, voice becoming cool and businesslike.

Something inside me relaxed. This Ethan I could handle. It was the flirty, oh-so-sexy version of his personality that got me all flustered and out-of-sorts.

“The first was three nights ago.” Frank shoved several files across the desk. Ethan leaned forward and picked one up, quickly scanning it before handing it across to me.

I was careful not to touch his fingers and amusement flared briefly across his lush lips. The basic details were all there—name, location, and the particulars of where and how he’d gone missing.

I looked up. “Were there any threats? Ransom demands? Anything to suggest this was a standard crime?”

Frank shook his head. “The kid disappeared from his bedroom in the middle of the night. No evidence of a break-in, and all the doors and windows were still locked in the morning.”

“From the inside?”

He flicked a glance my way. “Yeah.”

Meaning someone had a key. Ghosts might be able to get past locked doors and windows, but humans

—large or small—couldn’t.

“Why were we called in?” Ethan asked. “The official investigation would still be underway. We usually don’t get pulled in until after the dust has settled.”

“A second teenager went missing last night under the same circumstances.” Frank pushed the other file closer. “That teenager is my nephew.”

“Ah.” Ethan’s voice was neutral, and yet as attuned as I currently was to the man, I sensed his distaste.

He hated jobs that involved personal connections—though he’d never actually said why.

“I want answers,” Frank said, “and I want them fast.”

And that was probably why Ethan hated personal connections. Hard to do your job properly when someone closely connected rode your back.

I glanced at the file in my hand. The teenagers had gone missing from Wild Dog Creek, a small beachside town about ten minutes beyond the popular Apollo Bay. “Getting accommodations at the height of summer holidays is going to be a problem.”

“My sister-in-law has a guest house. She’s putting you up there.”

I glanced briefly at Ethan. He still wasn’t giving much away, but the taste of his displeasure was thicker in the air. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“Mari won’t get in the way of the investigation.”

The problem wasn’t so much his sister-in-law or the investigation. It was more me staying with a man I was only barely resisting.

“Why the two of us?” I asked. “I can handle a missing person case by myself. I don’t need Ethan to babysit.”

Frank raised his eyebrows at that. “Do you have a problem with Ethan?”

Yeah, he was too damn sexy for my own good. I had a hard enough time resisting the man in the few minutes our paths crossed each day—how much more difficult was it going to be if I had to spend all day and all night with him?

Spending that much time together could only have one result—us in bed, getting hot and heavy. My sex drive was perfectly normal, even if the works were a little rusty, and there was no denying the fact I did want him. I just didn’t want to end up getting hurt. Thanks to my parents, I wasn’t very good at the casual stuff, and Ethan was the sort of man I could fall for. Except he didn’t seem to want a relationship of any kind.

“I just think it’s a waste of resources,” I said, then realized just what I’d said the minute Frank’s expression darkened.

“It’s my company and my people, and I’ll send who I damn well please to find my nephew.” He glared at me for several seconds, then said, “Now get going.”

I got. Outside the door, I said, “This is going to suck big time.”

“The job, or the fact that I’m going with you?”

I glanced at him, saw the amusement playing about the mouth I so wanted to kiss again. “What do you think?”

“I think your psi abilities mesh extremely well with my pragmatism and innate ability to track a killer, which is why Frank put us on this one.”

“Probably.” I punched the elevator button and crossed my arms. And tried not to think about constricted space and what had happened not so long ago. “It still sucks.”

He leaned casually against the wall. And managed to look so damn hot my hormones started their crazy cartwheels again.

“Why are you so afraid of being alone with me?”

“I’m not afraid of being alone with you.”

He smiled. A long, slow, dangerous smile. “Then it’s game on, Ravioli.”

I knew in that moment my resolution to keep him at arm’s length was in big, big trouble.

THE SO-CALLED GUEST HOUSE TURNED OUT TO BE A tiny little cabin barely big enough to contain the ancient old brass bed that dominated the main room. A creaky-looking wooden table and several chairs were squeezed into one corner, and in the other, a small kitchenette. The door leading to the bathroom was at the other end of the tiny house, on the left side of the bed.

Which was my side. Heaven only knew I’d need plenty of cold showers to get through the night without giving in to the delicious temptation that would be lying beside me.

“What can you tell me about the night your son disappeared, Mrs. Symmonds?” Ethan said, throwing his sports bag on the bed beside my case.

He’d packed light. I’d packed heavy. Lots of layers was now my motto, whatever the actual temperature.

Mari took a shuddery breath, and exhaled it softly. She was a small, pale woman with even paler hair.

Not an albino, because her eyes were brown, but she still possessed that almost ethereal delicateness albinos often had. It was rare for a cat shifter to give off that sort of vibe, because they were usually the independent, don’t-you-worry-about-me types, but maybe it was simply the stress of the situation.

“He went to bed at ten, as usual. His light was still on at eleven, so he was probably online, chatting.”

She shrugged. “He does that most nights.”

“And you went to bed when?” Ethan asked, his voice all business, all matter-of-fact.

Which should have put me at ease, but didn’t. After the long, close-quarters drive down here, I was still far too aware of the man. I blew out a breath, and tried to concentrate on her voice, listening for anything out of place in her answers that might help find the missing teenagers.

“Midnight,” she answered. “I said goodnight, and he answered.”

“And you heard nothing all night?”

“Nothing at all. The dogs didn’t even bark.”

And they certainly had at us. But then, we were wolves, and basically invading their turf.

“What time did you notice he was missing?” I asked softly.

She looked at me. “As soon as I got up at seven. His door was open and the bed empty.”

“What did you do then?”

“Looked for him, of course. But he was nowhere.” She stopped and gulped, then looked back at Ethan.

“Frank said you’d find him. He promised.”

Frank was a freaking fool who should have known better than that. Ethan touched the woman’s frail shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “We’ll do our best, Mrs. Symmonds.”

“Thank you.”

Ethan looked briefly my way. The dangerous spark still glittered bright in his eyes, but I wasn’t entirely sure if it was anger or desire. “We should go to his room and look around. Mrs. Symmonds?”

She led the way along the daisy-strewn stone path to the main house—a rambling, two-story affair so often found on older farms. Which this had once been, before Mari and her now-dead hubby had sold it off to developers.

As we neared the back door, Ethan pressed a hand to my back, guiding me inside. Even that slightest of touches had my system going into meltdown.

This wasn’t good. Not when the lives of a couple kids might well depend on my ability to concentrate.

I stepped away from him, but the air between us still seemed so very heated.

“If you don’t mind,” I said, touching Mari’s arm gently. “I’ll get you to wait here. The less interfering vibrations up there, the better.”

She didn’t ask what I meant, simply nodded. Ethan and I moved up the stairs. We knew the layout of the house—it had been included in the files Frank had given us.

Ethan stopped in the doorway while I continued on. We’d worked together enough now that this side of our relationship had almost become routine. Lord how I wished the other part, the part I kept denying, had the same, easygoing feel.

“Sense anything?” he asked.

I stopped near the bed and drew in a deep breath, tasting the flavors in the air, feeling for the emotions and shadows that rode underneath.

The world was filled with such things. I’d learned to leash and control the senses that detected them, but had never truly been able to explain it. Especially since I come from a very long line of mundane, normal wolves that wouldn’t know a psychic skill if they fell over it.

But for me, the very air I breathed was alive, and sometimes, that wasn’t a good thing. There were the standard, everyday emotions that everyone could see and feel and sometimes taste, but there were just as many that ran underneath normal sensory lines. Many of these were the darker, more destructive emotions and aromas, and they lingered like a cancer in the air, polluting and destroying any sweeter scent.

This room was filled with such a darkness.

“It feels like a vampire,” I said, the chill running across my flesh making me suddenly glad of the multiple layers of clothing.

“Vampires can’t cross thresholds uninvited.” Ethan’s footsteps echoed on the wooden boards as he walked across to the window.

“There’s no saying Jon didn’t invite it in.”

“Except the cops reported that all windows and doors had still been locked from the inside.” He paused, looking out the sea-salt blasted pane of glass. “Besides, we’re on the second floor, and there are no nearby trees. Vampires can’t fly.”

“But they can climb ladders.”

“Soft soil. They would have found ladder imprints.”

I sucked in the air again, felt the foulness of it swirl through me. “It’s definitely a vampire. Or at least something along those lines. It has that same dead feeling.”

“And there’s nothing else?”

I sifted through the undercurrents and deeper threads of lingering emotions. “No fear. Whatever took him, he wasn’t afraid. Not at first, anyway.”

He glanced at me. “Not at first?”

I crossed my arms, and frowned. “No. I have a feeling that fear might have come later, but at the very beginning, he was a dreamer caught in a dream.” I paused, finding a hint of arousal and excitement—

and neither emotion had anything to do with Ethan or me. “He was chasing sexual completion.”

Ethan raised his eyebrows. “He’s run off with a girlfriend?”

I shrugged. “It would explain the locked doors and windows. Most teenagers his age have keys.”

He studied me for a moment, then walked over to the rumbled sheets, his nostrils flaring as he breathed deep. “There’s no lingering scent of sex.”