A Breath Away. Wendy Etherington
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His smile, his sleek good looks, his craftiness, even his evasiveness. She’d lied when she’d said his mysterious past didn’t intrigue her.
In truth, she wanted to know more. She wanted to know all. And more than the professional details. Her body wanted intimate details.
But her job required her to set aside her curiosity and pretend her senses weren’t completely overwhelmed by the temptation he presented. “Why don’t you want Hillman to know the shooting is part of your past?”
“I don’t trust him to keep his word and leave my past in the grave where I buried it.”
She didn’t trust Hillman, either, so her opinion of her client rose a bit. She also respected his intentions to move ahead, away from the criminal life he’d led.
But she knew she had to hold her sympathy in check. She was intrigued by him, her body wanted him, but she wasn’t sure she really liked him.
She’d solve his case, take his money and protect her cousin. As long as she kept those distinct objectives in mind, they’d all come out just fine.
“But I’d think you and Hillman would be buddies,” she said, not trying to hide her sarcasm. “Of the same mind and all. You’re the poster boy for trying any means necessary to get the bigger, badder criminal of the moment, after all.”
“Yes, I imagine that’s his philosophy. I guess you don’t agree.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him. “You guess correctly.”
“You don’t think the government should make deals with the other side?”
Well aware he was asking her if she agreed with Hillman’s decision to offer a deal to him in particular, she refused to soften her stance. “No, I don’t.”
“Leopards don’t change their spots.”
“Not in my experience.”
He simply nodded.
During her NSA career, she’d been appalled by some of the arrangements made with midlevel criminals in order to bring down their bosses. The idea that justice was negotiated in a boardroom, and that any wrongdoing could be wiped out by ratting out somebody else, was abhorrent to her.
Tremaine had benefited from such an agreement, which she’d always resented. What had precipitated his change of sides? And why had he taken the government’s deal in the first place?
To save his own hide, most likely, though he did nothing now to defend himself. What was up with him? And why did she have to be so damn interested in digging beneath the surface?
“So, that’s the present—at least professionally. But we haven’t talked about the personal present. Friends and lovers.” She watched his expression, hoping he’d squirm. “Anybody there have it in for you?”
“Like if I slept with my best friend’s wife?”
Given his lothario reputation, she certainly wouldn’t be surprised, but somehow she didn’t see the man before her putting himself in that position. He’d be selective about his bed partners, and he’d consider all the options and consequences before taking that step.
What else about him had been exaggerated?
“Yeah, like that,” she said finally.
“I don’t have a best friend, so no.”
Her pulse jumped. How did he manage to get to her that way? She cleared her throat. “So now that we’ve covered the present, it’s time for the past.”
She could have sworn she saw him flinch, but he recovered quickly.
“Of course,” he said, smiling with the easy charm that seemed as natural to him as breathing. “But before we do, I think it’s important that we explore our unexpected connection.”
“What unexpected connection?”
“The fact that I’d much rather get you in bed than investigate my own shooting.” As she ground to a halt, he raised his eyebrows, looking inviting as sin. “I assume the sentiment is returned?”
3
JADE FOUGHT TO ignore her rapid heartbeat. She forced herself to drag clean air into her lungs, to expel it and to calm her erotic thoughts.
She failed miserably.
Instead, she imagined her client’s body beneath her, his erection pressed against the pulsing need between her legs.
They’d been that close a short time ago, but now she envisioned their clothes disappearing. His body would be hard and sleek. Ripples of need and heat would surge through her. His hands would pleasure her beyond her wildest dreams. She’d satisfy an itch she didn’t even know she had until she’d met him.
“It hardly matters if we want each other,” she said, humiliated to find herself breathless. “We’re both professionals, so we’re not going to do anything about it.”
He smiled, his gaze locking with hers. “Aren’t we?”
As he rose and started toward her, she froze. She ordered her feet to move, but they didn’t. The look in his eyes needed no explanation as to his intent, and though the professional remained lurking inside her—the one usually front and center—the desire rolling through her body was overwhelming her instincts.
When he stopped in front of her, he cupped her cheek in his hand and angled her face toward him. “If you’re going to shoot, shoot to kill, because I’m not backing away.”
Then his lips were on hers, persuasive and demanding, but still soft. Her heartbeat accelerated as he slid his tongue inside her mouth, drawing her more deeply beneath his spell, causing the final vestiges of restraint to fall away.
She pressed her body against his, molding herself to the hard planes of his chest, his hardened penis against her stomach. Desire pooled between her legs.
Inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne, she let him lead her to hunger and need, to fan the flames of their attraction and send the temperature from simmering to red-hot.
He was a virtual stranger, not to mention a client, and she watched herself from a distance, not really believing she was touching him and letting him touch her in return. She felt energized in his arms. And exhilarated. And safe.
It was the thought of safety that brought reality crashing back.
She was supposed to be protecting him. She was supposed to solve his case, help him get his life back under control, then send him on his way.
She wrenched herself out of his arms. Breathing hard, she held out her hand. “We can’t do this.”
He grabbed her hand and jerked her against him. “I sure as hell don’t see any reasons not to.”
“Sure you do. You’re just ignoring them.”
“Sex releases tension.”
“Sex complicates.”
“You don’t like complications?”
“No, and I don’t have sex with clients.”
“Is that a hard and fast rule, or just a guideline?”
She braced her feet apart and glared at him. “Don’t make me prove I can take you down anytime I want to, Tremaine.”
“Back to last names, are we? Maybe I should prove how quickly I can have you moaning—even screaming—my name.”
“Dream on.”
“How about I demonstrate instead?”
Bang, bang, bang.
They jumped apart and darted toward the door.
“Room service!” came the cry from the hall.
Jade