Personal Demon (17 page)

My halter top tied in the back, and my fumbling with that was also less graceful than I would have liked.

Once untied, I let the shirt fall and Jaz let out a hiss, seeing I wasn’t wearing anything under it. He shifted, inching closer.

“Just one piece left,” I said, tugging at the skirt. “Sure you don’t want to do the honors?”

“Go ahead. Please.”

This time I did drag it out, slowly writhing out of the skirt until I stood there, naked. And he didn’t move.

Just stared, which was better than any compliment he could have paid me. After a moment, though, as if realizing he should say something he said, “You’re gorgeous.” A blush darkened his cheeks. “I mean, you were gorgeous already, but now you’re…damn.”

I laid down, arms beneath my head, stretching languorously, his admiration making me bold.

“So now what do you want me to do?” I said.

A deep chuckle. “Oh, I could think of a few things, but if you do, this is going to end very quickly.” He slid his hand down to his crotch and stroked himself through his jeans, no hesitation, no embarrassment. His brazenness—and the sight—made a fresh wave of heat course through me.

“Your turn, then,” I said. “Take it off for me.”

He grinned. “An order I would love to obey, but…” He slid over to me. “I think I’d better leave them on awhile, to slow me down.”

He moved over me, clothes brushing my bare skin, light enough to send shivers through me. Then he lowered himself, mouth coming down to mine in a kiss so hard I gasped, as I wrapped my arms and legs around him, his clothes rough against my bare skin. I could feel him hard against me, his jeans chafing me in places I probably wouldn’t want to be chafed tomorrow, but right now, it felt amazing.

“Still want me undressed?” he whispered against my ear.

“Not necessary,” I said, and reached for his fly.

I was still getting the button undone when his cell phone rang. He grabbed it from his pocket and threw it across the room, where it gave one strangled ring before dying.

“What if it’s Guy?” I said.

“It is. Fuck him. I’ll deal with it.”

I undid his button. Then my cell phone started and Jaz let out a string of curses venomous enough to make me jump. He lifted off me and hovered there, then backed away.

“Better get it.”

In other words, he’d take his punishment from Guy, but wasn’t going to let me.

It was indeed Guy, and in a foul mood, demanding to know if Jaz was with me. Jaz must have overheard, and took the phone. After a minute, he hung up, scowling.

“Some Cabal bullshit. Wants us there in twenty minutes.”

Even the promise of more Cabal information wasn’t enough to keep me from thinking
It’s a ten-minute cab
ride, fifteen tops, so that leaves us five minutes…
But it was too late. The mood was broken.

When I asked Jaz what he wanted to do, he gave a humorless laugh. “What I want to do obviously isn’t what I’m going to do. And I’m not rushing this.” He leaned over, lips brushing mine. “It’s too important to rush.

We’ll have time afterward. Maybe I can manage a bed for you, like a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman.”

A grin. “Let’s get this damned meeting over with, then.”

EVERYONE WAS ALREADY
in Guy’s office when we arrived. Jaz led me over to where Sonny was leaning against the wall.

“Glad you could join us,” Guy said.

Jaz’s silence—when he’d usually make a good-natured comeback—had Guy eyeing him, then glancing at me.

“Everything okay?” Guy asked.

“Peachy, boss. So what’s up?”

“What’s up” was indeed a Cabal problem, though not urgent enough to warrant such a sudden meeting…but that may have been sexual frustration talking.

Guy had received information that identified one of the men who’d robbed and beaten Jaz and Sonny. From his contact, Guy knew the target spent most evenings out, and kept a home office. Where there’s an office, there’s paperwork, or at least the electronic version. A break-in might tell us why the Cabal suddenly felt the need to smack down Guy’s gang. If that failed, then they could wait until the man returned and get the information direct from the source.

As Guy talked, Jaz’s annoyance with the meeting fell away, until he was fairly squirming in his seat, shooting grins my way.

“Sounds like we’re going to have another exciting night,” he whispered to me, then called to Guy, “I’m out for interrogation duty, boss. Not my style. But I’m there for the break-in. Faith should come along—she can scout for trouble and she’s a damned good thief, so—”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Jasper, but that’s not the plan.”

Jaz glanced at me. “But that power of hers—”

“—is invaluable in a sensitive break-in. I agree. Of course she’s in.”

“He means
you’re
out,” Bianca said.

“You and Sonny will stand down tonight,” Guy said. “For cat burglary, you can’t be beat, but tonight we’re looking for information, not valuables.”

“But—”

“No buts. I need Rodriguez for the computer and Faith for trouble detection and Bianca for searching. I’ll be hunting too, and that’s a full house. You other four will patrol the perimeter, with Tony and Max coming in later if we need muscle for questioning.”

Guy talked for a few more minutes, then adjourned the meeting. Jaz stared straight ahead, gaze blank, uncharacteristically thoughtful. Then he squeezed my hand and winked.

“I’ll fix this.”

I could have said it was hardly the end of the world if he missed tonight’s break-in. But it wouldn’t matter.

In some ways, Jaz was like a child—he wanted what he wanted, and he wanted it now. It sounded like immaturity, but there was no real selfishness behind it, nor any tantrums to be thrown when he didn’t get his way. Like last night. While he’d admitted to being frustrated, he’d waited until noon to call, in case I had a hangover, then had taken me out to lunch. With Jaz, “I want it and I want it now” seemed almost an…innocence. A purity of impulse.

As the meeting broke up, he rocked on his heels, a greyhound at the starting gate.

Guy looked up from a conversation with Bianca to call, “Jaz, Sonny, over here. Got an errand for you.”

Jaz leaned against me, hand brushing my rear. “Shit. That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of my miniskirt, eyes glittering, mouth coming down to mine, once again forgetting everything around us. A throat clearing from me stopped him.

“It’s your fault.” His gaze met mine, those sexy hooded eyes dark with desire. “If you were a witch, I’d think you’d cast a spell on me.”

Coming from anyone else, a corny pickup line. From Jaz, it made my heart skip. When he got close to me, the world vanished, lost in that swirl of his aura, that chaos vibe, and I suddenly knew where it came from—that childlike part of him that saw what it wanted, and grabbed for it, free of guilt and self-doubt.

I tilted my head back, lips parting as he—

“Jaz,” Guy barked. “Are you listening to me? Get down here.”

A flicker of anger, but it evaporated before I caught more than a spark. Propelling me forward, he headed toward Guy.

“Sorry, boss. I thought you were still talking to Bee. Got a job for us, you said.”

“For you and Sonny. I need Faith here.”

“Damn.” He turned to me. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. We’ll meet up for—”

“For nothing. This is work time, Jaz, not social time. You seem to be having some trouble distinguishing the two lately.”

Not an unwarranted accusation, but from the way Jaz stiffened, I could tell he didn’t like being reprimanded.

“We’re fine,” I said. “When you called, we had to leave lunch, so we’d planned to grab something to eat together later, but obviously that’s not going to work, which is understandable under the circumstances.”

“All right then. I’ll make sure you get fed before tonight, but a tête-à-tête is out of the question. This is going to be a delicate operation and I need you both on task. Completely on task.”

“We will be.”

“Good. Take five minutes, Faith, while Bianca and I talk to these guys, then I want you back here.”

“Yes, sir.”

I WAS COMING
back from the restroom when I saw Jaz pacing outside Guy’s door.

“All done?” I said. “Then it must be my turn.”

He reached for me before I could pass. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to spirit you off into a corner. Guy’s already miffed, so I won’t make it worse. I just wanted to say…” He looked around, then pulled me closer. “I just wanted to say I’ll make it up to you.”

I grinned. “I’m counting on it.”

I expected him to grin back, but his face stayed serious, eyes meeting mine. “I mean it, Faith. I’ve screwed up, and I know that. Getting ahead of myself. I…do that a lot. I can’t help it. But when this is over, I’ll make it up to you.” He paused. “Ever heard of Nikki Beach?”

I shook my head.

“It’s a bar on a private beach with beds and teepees. When this is done, that’s where I’m taking you.

Dinner, dancing, relaxing on the beach, then off to the best damned hotel I can find. No more making out on a bar stool or a restaurant floor. I’m going to do it right. Make it special.”

I shivered, lifted onto my tiptoes and brushed my lips across his. “I can’t wait.”

HOPE: DILEMMA

G
uy wanted to discuss the job. He and Bianca would be doing most of the searching, but as long as I was there, I would help, meaning I needed to know what they were looking for. So I thought I’d at least find out the target’s address, maybe his name.

Not a chance. Guy told me what I’d be looking for, and that was it. Even my reporter tricks didn’t get more out of him. He trusted his gang, but never liked to test that unnecessarily. He made the plans, and we carried out our end. To most, like Jaz, this was the perfect arrangement—minimal responsibilities for maximum reward. But it wasn’t terribly helpful when you were a spy, and the gang you’d just infiltrated was making plans to rob—and possibly torture—the employee of the man you worked for.

I had a responsibility to tell Benicio. Yet I had time to consider the matter on the cab ride to my apartment, and I began to wonder whether informing Benicio really was the obvious choice.

If, as I believed, Benicio hadn’t orchestrated the attack on Jaz and Sonny, then he’d have no idea who this employee might be. What if he overreacted? Did I want to see Jaz, Guy, Sonny and the others arrested and possibly tortured because of a rogue Cabal agent?

What if I was wrong about Benicio’s involvement? In that case, might he not set a trap for the gang and end up with the same outcome as scenario one: everyone taken into Cabal custody? The Cabals were known for torturing those who withheld information. It might not even get that far—an “accident” while taking them into custody would be a convenient way to get rid of an inconvenient problem.

If I feared the Cabal’s reaction, I should call Lucas. Yet if I did, with no proof that his father was about to do anything wrong, would I be crying wolf? Make matters worse?

What I really needed was a sounding board. Someone whose opinion I trusted, someone with no allegiance either way. As much as I hated to admit it, I wanted to talk to Karl. But at the thought of asking for his help, I shuddered.

If he was at the apartment, I’d tell him what was happening. Then, if he chose to offer advice—and I couldn’t imagine Karl not throwing in his two cents—I’d listen.

He wasn’t at the apartment.

I headed for the shower, hoping a shot of cold water would clear my thoughts.

I CAME OUT
of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and nearly smacked into Karl. Of course, I didn’t know it was Karl at first—my gaze down, thoughts elsewhere, walking out of the bathroom to find a man standing there. I yelped and stumbled back, heart in my throat.

“Goddamn it, Karl—”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Great. Try the buzzer in the lobby. Or, better yet, the phone to let me know you’re coming over.”

“I rang the buzzer. You didn’t answer.”

“Which gives you the right to break in?”

“I need to talk to you. Get something on.”

I thought of Jaz that afternoon, asking me to undress, watching me as I did, the look on his face telling me I was beautiful even before he said the words.

And then there was Karl…“Get something on.” As if I’d strutted out here in a towel just to annoy him.

I strode into my bedroom and slammed the door.

TEN MINUTES LATER,
he shook the bedroom door handle. It didn’t have a lock, but he made no move to open it, just rattling to get my attention. God forbid he should knock like a normal person.

“I’m not dressed yet.”

A low growl. “You’re stalling, Hope.”

“No, I’m dressing.”

Or I would be, once I figured out what to put on. It wasn’t a big deal—I could change before I saw Jaz again—but I stared at my choices, brain frozen, unable to consider the options much less pick one, too busy thinking about how to deal with Karl. Or, better yet, how to
avoid
dealing with Karl.

The door banged against the frame, then rebounded, as if Karl was giving it a test push. I could sense him hovering, waiting for the door to open so he could pounce.

“I don’t know why you’re here, Karl, but—”

“I’m here about your mission tonight.”

I paused, silk tank top in hand. “How’d you—?”

“The security on that nightclub leaves much to be desired.”

“Oh.”

“You weren’t going to call me, were you?”

“Was I supposed to?”

Silence, then a rustle, as if he’d brushed against the door. Walking away? No, I could still sense him hovering, the anger vibes muted but clear.

“You won’t ask for my help.”

“I don’t need—”

“Of course you don’t.”

I picked a plain T-shirt and yanked it on. “I can handle—”

“Of course you can. The fact that you’re about to do a potentially difficult and dangerous break-in and you have a professional thief nearby to offer advice is irrelevant, isn’t it? Because you can handle it, and you sure as hell aren’t going to ask me for help.”