One Kiss In… Miami. Katherine Garbera
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hands along the sides of her jeans, fighting nerves. “I wouldn’t have told, you know. Where you live, I mean,” she added for clarification.
He tapped a swift code onto a black glass plate affixed to the wall. With a soft hiss a pair of bottles slid out from a slot in the wood paneling. He handed her one, the temperature so cold her fingers went instantly numb. Twisting off the lid of the other, he stared at her while he took a long swallow. “I know you wouldn’t have told anyone,” he said.
“Really?” For some reason his certainty pleased her and she relaxed enough to smile. “How do you know?”
“Because Pretorius has jammed your cell signal. And he’ll continue to jam it until I tell him otherwise.”
Her smile faded. “When do you intend to tell him otherwise?” she asked warily.
“As soon as my uncle and I relocate. Until then, you’ll remain here as our guest.”
She paused with the bottle halfway to her mouth. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“But … but you can’t do that,” she sputtered.
“Watch me.”
Dear heavens, he was serious. She could see it in the hard glitter of his eyes and intractable set of his jaw. She’d never seen him look tougher or more formidable, cloaked with a dark, dangerous edge. She would have panicked if she hadn’t also seen something else. Something that actually gave her hope.
There in the tawny gold of his eyes, she caught the unmistakable flame of desire. He might fight it, he might deny it, he might have attempted to bury it beneath endless layers of ice, but she didn’t doubt for a minute he felt it.
Daisy decided to test the possibility. “What am I supposed to do while you’re keeping me here?” She caught it again, just the merest flash. But it answered her question without his having to say a word. “You can’t be serious.”
“You chose to come here. By doing so you assume the risk and consequences of your actions.”
She invaded his personal space until they were only inches apart. Not that he backed down. “And making love is the risk and consequence I assumed by showing up on your doorstep? Oh, excuse me. According to you we’ve never made love, have we?” She wrapped air quotes around the words, “made love.” “I seem to recall your telling me it was just sex.”
A cool smile snagged the corners of his mouth. “According to you, amazing sex.”
Her temper shot straight through the roof. “Oh! How dare you throw that in my face after all this time. And how dare you decide to keep me here against my will. Just because you haven’t gotten any in a while and I conveniently appear on your doorstep, you think you can toss me in your bed and have your wicked way with me?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth opened and closed, but she couldn’t seem to do more than make odd little choking noises. Finally, her vocal cords kicked in. “Yes? That’s all you have to say? Yes? Have you lost your mind?”
He went nose-to-nose with her. “Once again, yes! I lost my mind nineteen months, fifteen days, six hours, twenty-eight minutes and twelve seconds ago. And I want it back, which is precisely what you’re going to do. Having you here in my bed should return some modicum of sanity to me. It’s a perfectly logical solution to an utterly illogical problem.”
Daisy couldn’t recall Justice ever coming so close to losing his temper. Not to this extent. Always in the past he’d shown impressive self-control and restraint. Whereas she’d fly off in a thousand different directions, spewing emotional lava like a human volcano, he would pull tighter, deeper, one by one shutting off all those hot, torrid outlets until he had everything tamped down and safely buried.
Well, not this time. Not now. She knew that if she pushed so much as one more button, she could stand back and watch him blow. Her finger itched to try it, and yet, she hesitated. What would be the cost if she tipped him over the edge? What would it do to him to have that control ripped away? He’d hate it. Despise himself. And she simply couldn’t do that to him. If he ever opened to her, actually expressed those emotions and revealed his vulnerability, it would be his choice. She wouldn’t force it on him.
Daisy allowed the seconds to slip by, allowed the simmer and boil to cool. Allowed the volcano to slip back into dormancy. “You have a lot of nerve, Justice,” she told him quietly.
“You’re correct.” He wrapped control around himself like a blanket of snow. Even so, she could sense the heat of desire lingering beneath the ice. “That doesn’t change the fact that you’ll do whatever I tell you.”
For some reason his comment made her smile. “Anything?”
“Anything and everything,” he confirmed.
Her amusement faded and she lowered her gaze so she wouldn’t betray her reaction. She doubted she could conceal the intense longing that gripped her. The underpinning of desperation and want. It wasn’t fair. Not after what he’d done. Not after all the time and distance separating them. “I thought you didn’t want me.”
To her relief, Justice didn’t deny it. “Apparently, I was wrong. I guess we both were.”
“An affair, is that what you’re proposing?” She looked at him again, allowing a hint of her own yearning to slip through. “I stay here for however long it takes you to find a new place to hide—”
“I’m not hiding.”
Daisy couldn’t help herself. She laughed, the sound almost painful. “Oh, please.”
“I’m protecting my privacy. If the general public knew where I lived—”
“The general public couldn’t care less. Maybe the media would express some interest. But I suspect the only ones you need to worry about are other mad scientist wannabes.” She leaned her hip against the kitchen table. “So, what’s the real reason, Justice?”
He took a slow drink of his water, no doubt to give himself time to consider the most logical response to her question. He must have come up empty, because he asked instead, “How did you find me?”
She’d been waiting for that, wondering when he’d get around to it. “I had help, which is another reason you can’t keep me here against my will. Jett will eventually grow concerned and alert the authorities.”
“Jett.” His eyes flamed before he regained control. “Boyfriend? Husband? Lover?”
Two could play this game. She folded her arms across her chest and lifted an eyebrow. And waited.
“How did this Jett person find us, Pretorius?” Justice asked while his heated gaze remained locked with hers.
To Daisy’s shock, a disembodied voice responded. “I’m working on it.”
“Work harder. I want him traced and shut down.”
“You think I don’t know that? I know that. This Jett is good. Real good.”
“I thought you were the best.”
“Go to hell, Justice.”
Much to Daisy’s relief, a peeved tone rippled through Pretorius’s voice, confirming his status as a living, breathing human versus a machine. Even though Justice had claimed Pretorius was his uncle, she wouldn’t have put it past him to have considered that some sort of private joke. Of course, that would mean Justice would need to possess a sense of humor, something he’d probably worked long and hard to eradicate, along with every other emotion.
Well, except desire. That remained fully operational.
“I think I found how he traced us. Shutting him down. Okay, he’s cut off.”
Justice offered a wintry smile that perfectly matched the raw November day. “Is that it?” she asked.