Read Secretly Craving You Online
Authors: Nicole North
"Not in the bar. Another cop was probably watching my back, pretending to be a customer. He's the one who saw you. I don't know what's going down."
"That doesn't mean your cover's blown, does it?"
"I don't know." If it did, it probably had something to do with her showing up, but he had no proof of that yet. "Mainly, I have to keep you safe. Tell me more about the bastard who called you. What did he say again?"
She repeated what she'd told him in the bar.
"Sonofabitch," Nick muttered. The killer might have followed her here, hoping to get his hands on whatever it was he wanted, and then alerted someone in Rebel's that he was a cop. If the bastard was someone from Savannah who knew Jared well, then Jared might have told him Nick was a police officer in Atlanta.
Nick's cell phone rang and he answered.
"I'm in the lobby. Where are you?" Pierce asked.
"I'll be right down." He clicked the button ending the call and turned to Emily. "Stay in this room. Don't open the door for anyone except me, not even a hotel employee. We can't take any chances."
"Okay." Emily's skin paled. "Where are you going?"
"My partner's here. I need to talk to him in private to see what he knows."
She nodded. "Be careful."
"You too. I'll be back in about ten minutes. I wish I could stay here and keep an eye on you, but I have to see what's going on."
"I'll be fine."
Thankful she wasn't in hysterics, he impulsively stroked a thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. He admired her spunk and grit, and a hell of a lot more about her. "I'll be back soon."
* * * *
"Why the text?" Nick asked in a low tone once he and Pierce stood in a dim corner of the hotel lobby, far away from any customers or the registration desk. "Has my cover been compromised?"
"We don't know yet. Morgan's checking into it. So, who is she?" Pierce's blue eyes gleamed with curiosity and concern.
"Emily," Nick mumbled. He generally kept nothing from Pierce—he was both his partner and his best friend—but he didn't want Pierce to know what kind of off-the-charts effect Emily had on him.
"Emily? Your sister-in-law?"
"She isn't my sister-in-law anymore. She and Jared were divorced." Nick wanted to kick himself for sounding defensive.
"Right." Pierce eyed him speculatively. He was even holding back a damned grin. "Have you got a thing for her now or what?"
Annoyance welled up in him. "Why the hell would you ask that?"
Clearing his throat, Pierce plowed fingers through his short black hair. "Well—to put it mildly—Morgan said you were all over her."
"It's part of my cover to be all over women."
"Maybe so, but he said you were acting different. You weren't paying attention to anything around you. She was your sole focus."
"To hell with Morgan. I knew everything that was going on." The annoyance was deepening to anger, but he knew he had no one to blame but himself. He'd let her take his mind off the job.
Pierce inhaled a deep breath and let it out slow. "I'm not questioning your professionalism. Morgan was concerned you were letting a woman mess with your focus. And that you were pulling her too deep into your cover. He said she wasn't a regular and that you seemed to know her."
Nick forced himself to keep his mouth shut. If he said something, he might reveal what she did to him. Hell, he probably had been acting strangely with Emily. He'd practically devoured her on the dance floor.
"What was she doing there?" Pierce asked.
"She needs my help and protection. I already told you Jared was murdered."
"Yeah."
"The sonofabitch who killed him wants something and he thinks she has it. He broke into her house in Savannah, searched it, then called and threatened her."
"Shit." Pierce looked ready to tear into someone. "Is there anything I can do?"
"No. Thanks. I'm going back to Savannah with her. I have to find this bastard and nail his ass to the wall."
"What about your cases?"
"Hell, I know, but I need at least a week off," Nick said.
"Maybe I can help. I'll let the chief know your cover might have been compromised, and while things are cooling off you should take a brief leave of absence."
"Won't work. He'll bust my balls and make me do nothing but paperwork for a month."
"He owes me a favor."
"In that case, thanks. If this works I'll owe you one."
"You've saved my ass more than once already."
That was true, but that's what partners were supposed to do. "We're heading back to Savannah tonight then."
* * * *
"I'll drive," Nick told Emily fifteen minutes later as they approached her car.
"Good. I'm exhausted." Besides, she hated driving in Atlanta traffic. She unlocked the doors with the remote and they slid in. She was glad she wasn't alone right now. She felt much safer with Nick.
"Pierce will pick up my motorcycle here tomorrow and park it in his garage for a while." Nick started her car, maneuvered through the underground parking garage and drove onto the street. He made several turns and watched in the rearview mirror.
"Are we being followed?" She twisted around to peer through the back window. Despite the warmth of the night, cold seeped into her bones.
"Not that I can tell."
On a one-way street, they neared an intersection and an amber light. Nick pumped the brakes. "Shit!"
"What's wrong?" she asked, alarm chilling her.
The light changed to red. He floored the accelerator, squealing the tires. They flew through the intersection.
"No brakes!"
"Oh my god! What happened to the brakes?" Emily yelled, terrified Nick might not be able to stop her car.
"How the hell should I know?" he snapped.
She dug her fingernails into the edges of her seat and peered at the string of cars blocking the intersection straight ahead. Nausea surged through her. "How are you going to stop before we crash into them?"
Nick yanked up the parking brake.
The car didn't slow down.
Oh shit!
She closed her eyes and braced for impact.
"I'll do a one-eighty. Hold on!" He jerked the steering wheel sharply to the left. The tires screamed. Emily's head thumped against the passenger window. Pain spiked through her skull.
The lights outside spun and blurred. The car's engine whined, horns honked and a siren blared.
"Nick!" she yelled.
The car jolted to a halt halfway on the sidewalk.
Pedestrians scattered and a patrol car slid in front of them, blinding her with flashing blue lights.
"Em. You okay?" Nick took her face between his warm hands. He frowned, his darkened eyes concerned.
Though she wanted to savor the comforting way he touched her, pain radiated from the lump on her head. "I'm alive. But my head got thwacked good."
"Let me see." He turned her head and pressed his fingers gently over the bump. "Hell, I'm sorry. I'll take you to the hospital."
* * * *
An hour later, a paramedic had checked Emily's head and determined she didn't have a concussion. Only a sore, swollen lump remained. Nick had stood nearby, talking to police officers about what had happened in the near crash. She'd taken an ibuprofen and now felt fine, physically. Mentally, not so much. They could've died. Someone had followed her from Savannah to Atlanta, sabotaged her car, and that same someone had probably murdered Jared.
Nick approached where she sat in the passenger seat of a police car, opened the door and leaned in. "You okay? How does your head feel?"
Taking in his worried frown, she forced a faint smile, hoping to ease his mind. "It's fine." She couldn't really blame him for the bump on the head. He'd had to stop the car any way possible or they could've been hurt much worse.
"We'll lay low in a hotel for the night while they determine what the hell's going on."
"What about my car?" She hoped it wasn't damaged beyond repair.
"They have to check it over for prints, then Pierce will take it to a repair shop. We'll need a different car to get out of town. Someone's following you and trying to kill you. Plus, we don't know yet if my cover's blown."
A renewed chill coiled down her spine at all the dangers they might face. She was relieved Nick was here to help her. "Thanks."
"No need to thank me," he said in a quiet tone. "Come on." He held out his hand. Though she didn't need to be helped from the car or escorted, she took his hand…simply because she liked touching him. He was always so warm and strong. Comforting in one way, disturbing in another.
Once at the hotel, Pierce accompanied them up to the room. He and Nick communicated with a minimum of words and one could probably tell what the other was thinking based on near imperceptible body language and facial expressions. She was certain this came from years of being partners in dangerous situations.
Two uniformed police officers followed them. She felt like a star witness with so many guards. But she knew they were mainly protecting Nick, a highly skilled, respected and valued undercover officer.
"We use this hotel because it already has a lot of security in place." Nick slid the key card into the slot and opened the door.
"Wait here with her while I check it out," Pierce said. Drawing a semiautomatic handgun, he stepped into the room. Nick gripped a similar weapon—stainless-steel and deadly. A shiver coursed down her spine.
Moments later, Pierce returned. "All clear."
Nick motioned her into the swanky hotel room carpeted in thick brown Berber. In the middle of the room, she halted, staring at the one king-sized, four-poster bed. And this wasn't a suite, though it did contain a nice sofa, chair, cherry dresser, chest and tables. But one bed…
What was going on? Had someone planned this? Although she was annoyed at whoever assumed she wanted to sleep with Nick, a fuse of excitement also lit within her. Her three-year fantasy could become a reality.
No, that would be stupid.
The two men murmured in the background and she only understood a phrase here and there. "Dixon will be in the hallway all night," Pierce said.
She assumed that was one of the uniformed cops guarding them.
When Pierce left, Nick closed the door and came fully into the room.
"There's only one bed," she said.
He stopped short, glaring at it. "Hell."
She lifted a brow, unsure if she bought into his irritation. "Is Pierce encouraging us?"
"No, Pierce didn't book the room. All I know is this was the only room available for check-in this late. I assumed there'd be two queen-sized beds." He glanced around. "I'll use the sofa. I need to stay alert anyway."
That could work. Still, she felt bad he couldn't sleep in a comfortable bed when he'd done so much to help her.
"We'll take turns," she said.
"What?" His gaze swept to her and intensified.
"I'll sleep a while in the bed, and then I'll guard while you sleep."
He chuckled. "No. That's not how it works, sweetness."
She wished he wouldn't call condescending names. She supposed it was just his smart-ass way of dealing in a harsh world. But lots of things he did or said made her feel completely naïve. Which she wasn't.
"You need some sleep," she said.
"I'll be fine." Dropping the black duffle bag that Pierce had brought him, Nick laid his gun on the side table and reclined on the sofa.
If he insisted. A man would never listen, anyway. Taking her overnight bag, she escaped into the bathroom and locked the door.
What had her ex gotten her into?
* * * *
Nick sat in the darkened hotel room, staring at the red numbers on the clock. 2:36 AM. Emily had been in bed more than an hour. He assumed she was asleep since she hadn't moved and her breathing was deep.
Five minutes ago, he'd checked the hallway and found both uniformed police officers on guard. He'd worked with them before and knew they were trustworthy.
Nick had gotten very little sleep the night before either. Hell, when did he ever get enough sleep? He needed some shut-eye bad. He'd have to drive her to Savannah tomorrow, then be two-hundred percent on alert, protecting her from that psycho murderer.
Preparing to sleep, he shoved off his jeans, leaving on his black boxer-briefs, and lay lengthwise of the sofa. It wasn't long enough and didn't pull out into a bed. The arm of the sofa jabbed into his calves. And no telling whose ass had sat right where his head lay.
Sitting up, he eyed the king-sized mattress, beyond tempted to crawl onto it with her. It was huge. Would she mind sharing?
Wearing a short, silky blue gown, she'd slid between those clean white sheets earlier. For the last hour, he'd fantasized about running his hands up beneath the gown and now he had a hard-on that was driving him crazy. He could think of nothing but touching her, stripping the clothes from her body, tasting every inch of her skin.
He stood and crept forward. If he lay on this edge very carefully, maybe he wouldn't wake her. At the moment, he was so sleepy and tired, he couldn't do anything about a sexy woman in bed with him anyway. His erection told him that was a lie. Ignoring it, he pulled down the comforter and slid beneath. He wouldn't get under the sheet. That way if she accused him of trying to take advantage of her, he'd have proof his intentions were platonic.
Ha.
Nothing about his urges around her was platonic, but he could lie. And get some shut-eye in the process.
Damn, the bed was comfortable and the pillow soft. He'd probably wake up before she did, anyway, and he could slide out of bed without her even knowing he'd been in it.
* * * *
Emily awoke, for a moment unsure where she was. Thick draperies blocked most of the light from the window. Then she recalled the hotel room, the killer, the near-accident and Nick. With the sweltering covers up to her ears, she was drenched in sweat.
Whew.
She threw the hot comforter back, but something heavy still lay across her waist. Someone lay snuggled behind her!
Nick?
She glanced back as much as she was able. His eyes were closed and his long hair covered part of his face. She stared for a moment, transfixed by his deliciously chiseled lips and the dark gold stubble on his strong chin. She remembered what those lips could do…had done to her last night.
Get a grip, Em!
Heat suffusing her, she faced forward again. What the hell was he doing plastered to her in bed? And what, exactly, was she going to do about it?
Mumbling words she couldn't understand, he hugged her closer and nuzzled his face into the hair at the back of her neck. His heated breath against her neck stimulated a tickling sensation that traveled down her spine, spreading mesmerizing arousal to every cell of her body.
Wow.
It had been eons since a man had held her—more than two years. She'd forgotten what she'd been missing. In Nick's arms, she felt safe and protected and almost…cherished. Was she nuts? She didn't know, but she loved the feel of his strong arm around her.
Abruptly, he moved his hand upward from her waist, slowly grazing his fingertips over her ribs, then gently cupped her breast and moaned.
Oh my god.
Need struck her hard.
He lightly tweaked her rigid nipple through the material of her nightgown and instinct caused her to shove her ass back against his groin. His granite erection ground against her. He felt amazing. But, gasping in shock at herself, she forced herself to pull away.
"Where you going?" he murmured and tightened his hold around her torso.
"You're awake?"
"I am now. What about you?"
Awake?
Yes.
Able to breathe and make rational decisions?
No.
Why had he gotten into bed with her? She'd left him sitting on the sofa.
She started to ask, but he trailed a hand downward over her stomach, then beneath her gown. The roughened tips of his fingers slipped into the top edge of her bikini panties.
"Nick?" She'd meant it to be a protest, but it came out breathy. Dammit, she didn't get breathy.
"Hmm?" It sounded like a wicked moan. His prickly beard stubble scraped against her neck, abrasive but arousing.
She held her breath when his hand inched slowly lower, over her mound. Oh, he was being extremely bad and so was she, because she couldn't tell him to stop. Gently, his short blunt fingernails raked through the hair on her mound, patiently up and down, incredibly stimulating. Warm, wet arousal drenched her crotch.
Touch me, Nick, please.
Gradually, his hand moved lower. With his fingertips, he teased the outer lips of her sex. Her libido shifted into overdrive. Moaning, she barely restrained herself from thrusting her butt against him again, inviting him to slide inside her.