Authors: Liz Talley
His mouth kicked into a little smile. “I like you pissed off.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, stick around. I’m about to turn into a frickin’ amusement park.” She crossed her arms. She rarely got her panties in a wad, but this man irritated the hell out of her. How dare he issue a warning about a nonexistent relationship? Whatever.
He was hot but not that hot. “And you’re not invited for a ride.”
At her words something flared. Like spontaneous combustion. Spark. Ignite. Burn. The air grew thick. Nate shifted, his posturing less defensive, more open. Maybe even inviting.
She could feel his heat and it her made want to sidestep like a nervous mare. It also turned her on. How could a man go from irritating to smoldering in seconds?
Her gaze slid to his. Damn. His eyes had gone all half-lidded bedroomy. When had that happened? And why did it make the back of her knees feel sweaty?
“No pass no play, huh?”
She swallowed. Heat unwound in her belly, coating her in warm, liquid lust. Her eyes zeroed in on his mouth. Those lips were very tempting, daring her to kiss the smirk away. “Special passes are granted for good boys. I don’t think you qualify.”
Those delicious lips curved into the type of smile that plucked hidden strings in Annie’s belly. “Don’t you wish you knew if I were good?”
She opened her mouth just as Spencer yelled, “Cowabunga, dudes!” The childish jubilee ripped her from the hotness she contemplated, jarring her back to reality.
Mere minutes ago Nate wasn’t interested, so why was he tempting her? “Okay, let’s stop talking analogies here. You just said you don’t want me, so stop flirting with me.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want you. You’re beautiful, passionate and pretty damn smart, and that’s something every man is interested in sampling.” He brushed a finger over her bare shoulder and she flinched. “I said I wasn’t interested in a relationship.”
“So you mean straight-up, no-strings sex?”
He smiled.
“Are you the stupidest investigator in the county?”
He frowned. “It’s a parish.”
“Whatever.” She glared at him. “You just said I’m a suspect. What about that, Einstein?”
His eyes narrowed and the amped-up heat between them dissolved. “Of course you’re still a suspect.”
“So why would you even contemplate trying to get in my pants?”
He looked confused. It almost made her want to smile. Almost. Part of her was peeved he wanted to treat her like a Guadalajara whore. Part of her thrilled to the idea of scorching the sheets with him.
“I don’t know. I’m a man?”
“Seriously? That’s your excuse for being a chauvinistic, incompetent asshole? That’s the reason you’re using for tossing away your career? You’re horny?”
“Damn. You turned mean fast.”
“Yeah. Because I don’t like being treated like I’m easy. I’m not.” She watched him shift back and forth in his loafers. She’d hit a nerve. “Somehow I thought you wouldn’t treat me that way.”
Her words were an arrow piercing his armor. She saw him deflate. “Ah, hell, I don’t know why I’m doing this.”
He grew still and his brown eyes got that vulnerable look in them, the one she’d glimpsed only fleetingly when he’d been around his mother several mornings ago. That softness drew her to him more than any heat.
He dropped his hands to his hips, sliding them into the pockets of his khaki trousers, and sighed. “Look, I’m not good at saying I’m sorry, but in this case, I’ll be glad to grovel. That wasn’t well done of me. Guess I’m rusty around women.”
“Yeah, like I need a tetanus shot,” she said, allowing lightness in her voice.
“Possibly.” He glanced at her. “Sorry I overstepped…acted like an ass.”
Annie nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, pulling her gaze from his and searching for Spencer. She saw his head bob behind one of the mounds. A stick quickly followed, before being launched into the air like a crooked spear. Boys and sticks. What was with that? “People say and do stupid stuff all the time. I’m used to it, and frankly, I’m a testament to screwing things up, so I try not to hold grudges.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Again, silence sat between them, but this time it didn’t feel so thick.
“Any chance we forget about my being an idiot?” he asked. His dark eyes didn’t beg, but the velvet depths were steadfastly contrite. “Do a rewind?”
Spencer came bounding over, waving the stick. Annie’s gaze met Nate’s. “Sure.”
Then she gave her attention to the boy, who professed to have found a “real live” Indian spear. “Of course it is. We’ll have to show it to your mother. She’s coming home early tonight and said you’d watch another movie and eat popcorn.”
Spencer bounced and Annie caught Nate’s smile at the boy’s glee. “Cool! You going to watch it with us, Annie?”
“Nope, cowboy. Annie’s off tonight.”
She felt Nate’s interest again, and knew she could have done what Ace had suggested. Hell, she could have gotten exactly what she wanted—a hot tumble with Nate and an opening to get primo info about the case from him. But she couldn’t use herself like that. She’d have to find her leads the forthright way—snooping around.
She placed a hand on Spencer’s sweaty neck and steered him back toward the path, but Nate’s grasp on her elbow stopped her.
“I still need to interview you for the record, Annie. That’s the reason I’m out here.”
His touch seared her, but she reminded herself of her conviction. “Sorry, I need to get back.”
“Won’t take long.”
“Annie, I gotta go poop,” Spencer called out.
“See? Spencer’s got to make potty,” she said.
Nate frowned. “I’ll walk you back.”
“Fine.”
He didn’t look happy, but, really, when did he ever look happy? Not much, in her limited experience. She plowed back toward Beau Soleil wondering what was so important he’d bothered to track her down in the woods. But, of course, she had an inkling.
Sterling had done a decent job of building her cover, but she knew any investigator worth his salt could poke a hole in her flimsy story. Nate fit the bill.
Last night she’d thought about tossing her undercover identity with the Cajun detective. Heaven knew she hadn’t done a good job of earning his trust, and lies seemed to trip on her tongue where he was concerned. Honesty with Nate would be refreshing, but she needed to clear it with Ace first. She didn’t want to screw up anything within her probationary period. She needed that steady paycheck.
Spencer was thankfully quiet. The crackle of the newly fallen leaves and the bustle of a hidden forest were the only accompaniment to their journey toward the large yellow-bricked house. When they emerged at the side of the property, she turned to Nate. “I’m not trying to hamper your investigation, but I’m meeting someone in an hour and I need to shower. Would it be okay to bring Spencer with me and meet you at the station tomorrow?”
Nate shook his head. “I’m out tomorrow. Just for the day.”
“Oh.” Curiosity nudged her, but she held her tongue.
“You and Spencer should come with me. What I have to do won’t take long and then I can take Spencer on a swamp tour.
Didn’t he want to see alligators?”
“Yes!” Spencer shouted. “Yes! Yes!”
Annie placed a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder to prevent him from tromping her foot in his zestful jumping. “If it’s work-related, we’d be in the way.”
Nate shrugged. “Not really, and it would give me time to interview you. Two birds and all that.”
Spencer stomped. “I want to go see the alligators, Annie. You promised.”
She looked at Spencer then back at Nate. “I’m not sure we should allow this to get too personal…”
“That’s up to you. I’m going down to Bayou Lafourche to a town called Galliano. I have a quick errand then we can do the airboat. It’ll be educational, and you’ll have Spencer safe with law enforcement—at least for a day.”
Annie had no other recourse but to agree. Another day spent putting together puzzles and practicing Spencer’s handwriting and numbers sounded mind-numbing anyway. And then there was Nate. Big, gorgeous Nate with his broad shoulders, dimple in his left cheek and quiet strength. So tempting to sit beside him as he drove, soaking in his aura, listening to his low gravelly voice, fantasizing she was just a girl hoping for something with a stand-up guy who wouldn’t choose anything or anyone over her. “Okay.
As long as his parents agree.”
Spencer whooped and took off toward the porch where Picou stood in crane pose. Or that’s what Annie called it.
“Tomorrow,” Nate said, tossing his mother a wave and walking toward his car.
Annie watched him go. The view was nice, but it was more than that. More and more, she felt herself being pulled toward Nate. Not to mention, deep down she still wanted to believe in love, family and a pretty ribbon tied around a happily ever after.
Past mistakes didn’t define people, but they damn sure made it hard to believe in fairy tales.
“Annie!” Spencer’s voice carried across the lawn. “Hurry up. You gotta come wipe me!”
Lovely.
* * *
The actress gave a much-put-upon sigh. “Tawny. And those are the newest Louboutins. They lift your ass. Practice walking in them.”
It was a command.
Annie tottered across the bedroom, trying to maintain a steady stroll. She wore heels upon occasion, but never ones that were four inches with a sexy strap around the ankle. She turned, teetered and thrust her arms out for balance. She weebled, she wobbled, but she didn’t fall down.
“Not bad,” Tawny said, tossing the blouses she’d discarded onto a wingback chair in the corner. “Much better than the whole Mother Teresa thing you had going on. What were those shoes? Orthotics?”
“No. Serviceable flats.”
At that, Tawny snorted. “You’re funny when you want to be, Annie the Nanny.”
Annie suppressed an eyeroll and studied herself in the mirror. She had to admit, she did look semihot. Thanks to leaving her fake ID on the dresser in her room. When Annie had slipped through the kitchen earlier to retrieve it, Tawny caught sight of her in the knee-length gray skirt and powder-blue sweater set and literally shrieked. Tawny had pointed one long red nail Annie’s way and forbidden her to leave the house looking like Sister Agnes—whoever that was—and whisked her upstairs for a personal clothes consultation. She’d gone through Annie’s closet in thirty seconds before insisting Annie borrow something from her fall collection.
Annie had had little say in the matter.
And for once, the actress reacted friendlier to her. Annie suspected it had something to do with her leaving for the night and Tawny having her family to herself, including the handsome husband. Annie had finally figured out Tawny’s behavior—the woman wanted her husband, and anyone or thing that interfered was treated to instant dislike. His work and Annie included.
Annie turned the toe of the silver pump inward. “You sure these match? I think my flats would work.”
“Of course they match. Metallic colors are neutral and patchwork is all the rage. Besides there’s silver thread woven in the flower on the shirt.”
Annie plucked at the clingy blouse and glanced down. So there was. She smoothed down the black-and-gray snakeskin-print skirt. Miraculously, it didn’t grow another three inches. Instead it hit her midthigh just as it had when she’d first pulled it on. “I don’t know, Tawny. The clothes are beautiful, but too expensive for a nanny to wear. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to them.”
Tawny frowned. “I’m loaning it to you. Not giving it to you. And I insist.”
Annie nodded. “Well, then I thank you for being so generous.”
“No problem. Now come on in the bathroom and let me do something to your hair. I have a fascinator that will look good against your curls. Your hair is so plain brown. Have you thought about highlights? I think a nice caramel would complement your complexion. It did wonders for my sister. She was plain brown, too, but I talked her into highlights and they made a world of difference. Now she has honey-blond highlights…or at least she did the last time I saw her. It’s been a while.”
What in the hell was a fascinator? And highlights? What was wrong with plain brown?
Tawny disappeared into the bathroom chattering about jewelry and a hot-pink lip gloss.
Annie stood stock-still and wondered if escape was an option. She took one step toward the door just as Tawny popped her head back out. “You coming?”
“Um, sure.”
Thirty minutes later, Annie tottered down the front steps, climbed into the rental car and looked frantically for a napkin in the glove box. No way in hell was she wearing bright pink blusher or garish lipstick. Luckily, she found a McDonald’s napkin wedged under the car manual.
She pulled down the sun visor to find the mirror and scrubbed away, praying she didn’t look like a streetwalker. After a few seconds of rubbing, she felt as if she’d removed most of the heavy makeup. Big hoop earrings framed her face and the black silk rose looked frivolous nestled in her curls, but she was afraid to pull it out. It would have to stay.
She flipped the visor up and started the engine. She was late to meet Jane, but the past hour had given her better insight into Tawny. A fragile truce seemed to have developed between the two of them, especially since Annie faked being interested in one of the craft-service guys.
When she’d gotten back from the woods with her gun and a sinking feeling her undercover status was doomed, she’d put in a call to Ace and asked to come clean with Nate.
“Fine, but remember, it could backfire. Most local cops don’t know our reputation, so they might horn you out altogether.”
“I don’t think this guy will do that.”
“Just how close have you gotten to him?”
She cleared her throat. “Not that close. I’ve tried to be his friend, so I can catch crumbs, but I think he’ll trust me more if I tell him I work for you.”
“Why?”
“Because he caught me and Jimmy in the woods. He’s suspicious.”
Ace blew out a breath. “How the hell did that happen? Jimmy said the drop-off was secluded. You let the cop see you get your gun? Shoddy work, Anna.”