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Just then Emelio came back into his office. Tiffnee snatched the one picture and shoved it inside her T-shirt. She whispered under her breath, “I’ll put this in your purse.”
Stevie turned to Emelio, hoping her expression showed concern and not unexpected delight. His dark hair was swept back from his forehead as if he’d shoved it out of his eyes, revealing the small stud in his left ear and giving him a fresh-from-bed sexiness. “Did you find him?”
He scowled and stalked across the room, moving with his signature long, fluid stride. “I took the stairs since the elevators are notoriously slow, but I didn’t see any messenger.”
Stevie listened closely while Tiffnee briefly described the “blond hottie” who’d delivered both packages.
“I want a full, written description of him, everything he said and anything else you remember.”
“For sure, boss. Like, written written or typed written?” At the look he gave her, the receptionist backed toward the door. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out.”
Emelio shook his head as she bounced back out the door. “That girl is lucky she’s Alex’s cousin.”
Stevie passed him the contents of the manila envelope. “I’d say this blows your ‘harmless admirer’ theory.”
“Feel free to open my mail.”
“I did, thanks.”
Emelio sank into his chair while reading the article, his brooding expression firmly in place. Considering he’d just run down ten flights, there was only the faintest sheen of sweat on his forehead and he wasn’t even out of breath. A woman had to admire that kind of stamina.
She sauntered around the desk and rested one hip on the edge, allowing her blue-and-white skirt to creep up her thigh an inch or so. “That headline relates to your investigation at the Cayo Sueño Resort, right?”
Against his better judgment, Emelio allowed his gaze to travel. It moved from the long, slim thigh, over her knee and along her shapely calf to the high-heeled sandal dangling off her bare toes. It took him a second to remember her question. He raised his focus to Stevie’s face.
“Yeah, we were working an SOD case against the Dominican cartel. Alex went undercover down in the Keys as an investment broker, trying to use a man named Rogelio Braga to get to Frankie Ramos, former head of the cartel. I operated behind the scenes to gather evidence of money laundering. Braga disappeared two days before the arrest, but we finally took down Ramos and seized over a hundred million dollars from their organization.”
“I didn’t work on that case. So I don’t understand what this has to do with me.” She indicated the pictures from the movie set.
“Neither do I. Not yet.”
As he laid the newest set of photos on the desktop, he accepted that Stevie’s safety was now his responsibility. He didn’t want to tell her any more than necessary, not until he was sure. But it seemed obvious Braga intended to use Stevie to get to him. Braga prided himself on being a man who never forgot a favor. Or a slight.
Emelio had more than slighted him. He had infiltrated the cartel right under the man’s nose. Gracias a Dios, Alex had taken his wife, Meghan, and their newborn son to Baltimore to visit her family. That was three less people he had to worry about.
“I want to be on the road within the next hour.”
Stevie’s eyes darkened to a stormy gray, her sexy pout twisting into a frown. “Where are you going?”
“Wherever you go, lady. I’m not leaving your side.”
A warm frisson of awareness passed between them. Her pupils dilated in the dark blue depth of her gaze and he heard the quick intake of breath before she turned her normally subtle Southern accent into a sensual drawl.
“I don’t need a bodyguard, Emelio. I am a bodyguard. Well, at least I’ve been through the training.”
“Then you know how it works. We stay together 24/7 until this is over.”
2
STEVIE FORCED ASIDE all thought of danger until she focused on getting Emelio alone. She was going to have him to herself, twenty-four hours a day…and night. That was definitely the silver lining in the dark cloud hanging over her life right now.
A spark of excitement ignited in her belly. She’d spent the past four months creating the seduction. Now she was going to climb over the professional wall standing between them and, with any luck, land right in his lap. With a little planning, and a lot of opportunity, she could move their work relationship to an up-close-and-personal level.
The photograph that had captured his rare moment of openness was hidden in her handbag, but she didn’t need to take it out to remember Emelio’s expression. That look of unguarded lust had her feeling hot and tingly. So did the touch of his hand on her forearm.
Emelio stood in front of her, checking in all directions as he held the freight elevator open. His palm felt smooth and warm and strong and a bolt of desire shot though her. How many nights had she dreamed of having his hands stroke and caress her? How many times had she settled for her own?
Excitement hummed along her veins as her eyes roamed over him. His long hair touched the top of his collar in dark waves. The pistachio cotton shirt stretched across the wide expanse of his back was tucked into a pair of black jeans that molded to his butt and thighs.
The guy looked just as good going as coming.
A grin spread over her face. She hadn’t seen him coming yet. But she hoped to before the week was out. Stevie sobered her expression just as Emelio turned his head and nodded.
“All clear.”
His hand slid down to clasp her fingers, and the casual touch sent ripples of longing throughout her body. After another glance around, he led her down the cement-block hallway toward the service entrance. She stumbled as she followed him across the alleyway to the parking garage.
“Slow down, will you? I’m wearing sandals.” He shortened his stride with an apology, allowing her to catch up. To her surprise, he bypassed the VIP slots at the front of the garage. “Isn’t that your Lexus parked right over there?”
“Yeah, it is. We’re taking another car.”
Her hand flexed involuntarily beneath his when her pulse leaped with a different kind of excitement. “What are you going to do, hot-wire one?”
“Something like that.”
He looked around once more and let go of her hand before opening the door to the stairwell. She felt an odd sense of separation at the loss of contact. She also felt her calves screaming in protest.
“You take the stairs. These shoes are more decorative than functional. I’m catching the elevator.”
“One, we don’t want to get trapped in an elevator if anyone’s waiting for us. And two, we’re only going up two flights. You’ll live.”
Her sandals clattered on the concrete. “My life has become a spy-thriller movie.”
“Oh, yeah? Which Bond girl are you?” When he glanced at her a flash of amusement lit his hazel eyes.
“I always thought Holly Goodhead was a great name.” She smirked when his step faltered. The flare of heat in his eyes was quickly extinguished, but she saw it. And she would use it to her advantage later. “But I’d rather be Wai Lin, the heroine in Tomorrow Never Dies.”
“You don’t look Chinese.”
“Funny. She was the best, very strong and independent. Her character was more Bond’s equal. You should watch that film before assigning the next interesting case to one of the guys.”
“I like Sean Connery’s Bond girls better. You can’t go wrong with a woman named Pussy Galore.”
Stevie wrinkled her forehead and grimaced. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
“How about, ‘Ooh, James’?”
A chuckle escaped her at his impression of the line spoken by every woman in every Bond movie. Great body, bad-boy attitude and a sense of humor. What more could she ask for?
As Emelio pushed open the level-three entrance, Stevie took a quick look around and then followed him toward the corner parking spaces. It was all very stealthy and exciting. She watched him walk to the passenger side of a silver sports car and pretend to check the tires. Then he reached inside the wheel well and pulled out a small metal box. Inside was a set of keys.
“Well, I’m disappointed. I thought I was finally going to learn how to hot-wire.”
“I’ll teach you some other time.” He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for her.
She lowered herself onto the gray leather seat and swung her legs inside. “Mmm. Very nice. Whose car is this?”
“It’s registered to the corporation, so technically it belongs to the agency.” He shut her in and walked around the rear of the vehicle.
By the time he reached the other side, she was already in the driver’s seat. She rolled down the window when he tapped impatiently on the glass. “Since it’s the agency’s car, I get to drive. Hop in, handsome, and I’ll take you for a ride.”
At her choice of words frown lines appeared between his eyebrows, warring with a flash of sexual interest in his gaze. Then his expression cleared and she saw the corner of his mouth relax, though it wasn’t quite a smile.
Emelio nodded once in agreement. “Makes sense, since you know the way to your apartment.”
She started the engine and snuggled into the driver’s seat. “Sweet getaway car. Does it have a rocket launcher or remote-controlled steering?”
“You watch way too many movies.” He handed her the card key to get past the garage’s electronic gate.
As she turned her head to check for oncoming traffic, a beige sedan idling against the curb caught her eye. Looking at the man behind the wheel triggered alarms in her brain. “Emelio, I think that’s the messenger Tiffnee described.”
He swung his head to where she indicated. “Start driving and see if he follows.”
She eased out into traffic, trying to watch where she was going and peer into the rearview mirror at the same time. The presence of the messenger was unnerving, but she welcomed the challenge. She’d always wanted to drive a getaway car.
Emelio’s cell phone began to chime. “Hello? Angie. I can’t— Yes, I know—”
Didn’t those women ever stop calling him? The sudden stab of jealousy annoyed the hell out of her, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. “The beige sedan is pulling away from the curb, heading this way.”
“We’ll have to talk later, cariña.” He disconnected the call and tossed the phone into the beverage holder.
Cariña, again. He could at least show enough imagination to give his girlfriends different endearments. Envy had her growling as she glanced in the mirror again. “He’s only two cars behind us now.”
“Find someplace to pull over.”
“Forget it. We’ll be perfect targets.” Stevie waited until the traffic light turned yellow. Then she shifted down into second gear and hit the gas. The powerful V-6 engine roared in response and she peeled across the intersection, tires squealing.
“Are you crazy?” Emelio braced one arm against the door handle and tightened his seat belt. He held his breath until they shot past the delivery van barreling toward his side of the car. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Staring straight ahead, Stevie answered him through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to lose the bad guy.”
He rolled his eyes, unsure whether to laugh or pray. But a glance in the side-view mirror confirmed that the beige sedan had dodged the car in front of it and run the red light. Mierda! Thanks to Braga, and the wild woman beside him, he was going to end up a big smear on the pavement.
He turned his head to look at Stevie in case she was the last thing he ever saw. Her color was high and a daredevil grin split her face as she gripped the steering wheel in both hands and sped around a motorcycle. She was really loving this. And he was going to die.
“Hang a right onto First Street, then we’ll switch places so that I can drive.”
Stevie cut across to the far lane, downshifted and took the turn on two wheels. “I’m an expert at this, Emelio. I’ve been trained in high-speed, evasive and counterambush driving techniques.”
“Counter. Ambush. You’re kidding, right?” When he snickered, she shot him an offended glance.
She darted in and out between slower-moving cars. “No. I took a couple of classes with a former Secret Service agent. Graduated with honors, too.”
Of course she had. Out of nowhere, he wondered if she approached sex the same way. Just the thought of being on the receiving end of all that relentless enthusiasm got him hard. What the hell was going on? He’d never considered sleeping with her before. And he couldn’t consider it now.
Emelio checked the mirror again. “Damn, that beige sedan won’t let up.”
“No problem.” She slowed the car, as if stopping for another light, then whipped the steering wheel to the left and raced along East Flagler Street. “I’m serious about doing fieldwork, Emelio. I’m ready.”
“Can we talk about this later?” He closed his eyes and waited for the impact when she tried to pass the freight truck in front of them.
“I’ve studied martial arts, explosives recognition, tactical firearms and hostage survival skills.”
“We’re private investigators, Stevie, not the Navy SEALs.”
“Just know, I’m not giving up on this. I’m tired of sitting behind a desk designing alarm systems.”
“Later.” His heart leaped into his throat as she made a hard right around a minivan and careened onto Second Avenue.
“Listen, I’m more than qualified for the job—”
“Watch out!” He had to yell over the blare of honking horns. “Didn’t any of those classes teach you how to read a One Way sign?”
She managed to evade the oncoming cars and got off on Fourth Street. From behind them, Emelio heard the squeal of brakes followed by the crunch of metal against metal. He looked back to confirm the beige sedan was no longer behind them.
“Hoo yah!”
He turned at Stevie’s victory shout, not surprised to see her triumphant grin. Her cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes alive with excitement, and he imagined she’d wear that same expression after a few hours in bed. Looking at her, he wasn’t sure if the rush he felt was adrenaline or attraction. Either way he wanted to reach over and kiss her, long and hard.
Stevie finally slowed down to the posted speed limit, but his heart beat an unsteady tattoo and his right hand still had a death grip on the door handle. He ought to flay her alive for taking ten years off his life, then have her committed to the nearest asylum.
Instead, he answered her proud grin with a quirk of his eyebrow. “So. What other classes have you taken?”
THE DOOR WASN’T LOCKED.
Stevie stared at the entry to her apartment in numb confusion. Why wasn’t the door closed all the way? She was sure she’d yanked it shut this morning—the door always stuck and that was the only way to get the lock to engage.
“Stay here.”
Emelio nudged her aside and reached out to gently push the door wider. It swayed open enough to let him slip through. She watched him crouch down before moving along the hall to check the other rooms.
Stevie followed as far as the living room, then jerked to a sickened halt. Everything she owned was strewn across the floor.
The love seat and chairs had been upended; the cushions slashed open to spill fluffy white filling onto the carpet. Her framed prints had been knocked from the walls. Sunlight from the now bare windows reflected off the plastic CD cases scattered about, and her collection of romantic suspense novels and mysteries had been swept off the shelves.
Her gaze slowly traveled over the mess to see that the dining table was on its side and all of the glassware in the kitchen lay in shards on the ceramic tile. She didn’t want to see what the bedroom and office looked like. Her hands clenched into fists even as she started to tremble. Comprehension, cold and piercing, crept along her veins until her body was frozen in place.
Someone had been here. Some unknown menace, some malicious stranger, had been inside her home. The significance weighed on her heart and sank into the pit of her stomach like a rock. She’d come so far, only to find herself cornered again.
Well, some people fought when cornered, and these days she was one of them. Red-hot fury melted the tendrils of fear that gripped her throat, spurring her into action. Stevie dropped to the floor and started gathering her books, stacking them in neat piles beside her.
Her independence and self-confidence were so hard-won, and at such a great price, she wouldn’t let a little thing like a break-in get to her. No way.
“I’m sorry, Stevie, but we have to go.”
Emelio carefully set a broken picture frame against what was left of her glass coffee table. She ignored him and began arranging her music discs. While separating the club music from the classical, she worked on identifying her emotions.
Frustrated. She’d have to replace all of her glasses and dishes, things she’d proudly chosen for her first apartment. Annoyed. She hated housework at the best of times, but this callous destruction went way beyond her normal sloppiness. Afraid… Her heart beat erratically, causing fine tremors that shook her hands. She’d deal with that one later. It was safer to be angry.
“Leave that, will you? I don’t know how long ago this happened. And I don’t know if they’ll be back.”
“I’m cleaning up, Emelio. You can help by picking up the TV set and putting it back in the entertainment center.”
“Just leave it! We’ve got to get out of here. Now.” Emelio snatched the music from her hands and tossed it aside.
She looked up, a protest on the tip of her tongue until he grabbed her left arm, pulling her to her feet. The instinctive part of her brain took over. He was big, he was strong, he was male. And he’d just put his hands on her.
Stevie swung at him, landing a hard blow to his shoulder. He dropped her arm in surprise and raised both of his in front of him. She watched his hands come up, and her mind emptied of all thoughts but one—fight back.
In a flood of emotion, she experienced the same fear and humiliation and self-loathing she’d felt the last time a man had grabbed her. He’d dislocated her shoulder that time. She’d had to suffer not only the pain but also the uncertain sympathy of the emergency room intern who treated her.
She lashed out again and again, barely able to see through the red haze clouding her eyes. Her head was spinning with memories. She heard a grunt of pain when her knee connected with his thigh, heard the low growl issuing from her own throat, but she felt nothing….
She felt nothing?
Stevie slowly returned to the present. It was Emelio, not Tom. And he wasn’t attacking her. He was trying to block her punches. In a split second, he captured both of her hands to keep her from harming either one of them anymore. Stevie took comfort from his warmth and the gentle way he held her fingers, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.
God, what must he think of her? Her gaze locked on to the dark purple bruise developing over his chin. She’d done that.
On the one hand, she should be proud that she hadn’t hesitated to use her training. But on the other, she’d lost control and descended into violence. The realization that she hadn’t escaped her past after all brought tears to her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Emelio. I… I’m sorry.”
He blew out a long breath and she felt the tension leave him. “Was he the same guy who broke your nose?”
She twisted out of his grasp, shame bringing hot color to her cheeks. “I think the slight bend gives my nose character.” Her attempt to lighten the mood fell flat when her voice cracked.
“Tell me about him.” Emelio’s gaze was soft, understanding, however, his voice was firm. She shook her head, but he gently persisted. “Is there any possibility he did this? I need to know what we’re dealing with.”
“Tom didn’t trash my apartment. I made sure when I left New Orleans that nobody knew where I was going.”
“Could your family have—?”
“The last people I’d ever tell are my family.” Stevie turned to open the French doors.
He followed her outside to the balcony. “What happened, Stevie?”
“I guess I owe you an explanation, don’t I?” She gave a short laugh of embarrassment and leaned one hip against the railing, her arms wrapped protectively over her waist. “There’s not much to tell. I married young. I married wrong.”
She stared blindly across the street at the Miami-Dade Community College campus. “It started off with Tom picking my clothes, suggesting what I should do, where I should go. It was important for the wife of an aspiring politician to project a certain image. Then things changed and he started to dictate every aspect of my life.”
All of it was for her own good, of course. She wasn’t capable of taking care of herself, wasn’t smart enough to make her own decisions. And if she dared to ignore his advice… She shivered, remembering as if it were yesterday.
“Did you tell anyone? Try to get help?” Emelio’s face had darkened with anger but his voice remained low, soothing and, most importantly, nonjudgmental. A few of the tears blurring her vision spilled over her lashes.
“My parents didn’t believe a ‘nice boy like Tom’ would treat me that way. He just had ‘a quick temper’ and the best thing I could do was to keep him happy. Later, I tried to tell my brother, Eric, but he didn’t believe me, either. That sort of thing doesn’t happen to ‘people like us.’”
His hazel eyes reflected his understanding as he brushed the tears from her face with the pad of his thumb. “You didn’t call the police?”
“I was ashamed, Emelio. I felt trapped and alone and I thought if my own family didn’t believe me, no one else would, either. Tom belittled me until I had no self-esteem left. He made me a prisoner in my own life. And I let him do it….”
“You were victimized, Stevie. You didn’t do anything to deserve that. No woman ever deserves that.”
Following his instincts, Emelio tried to gather her into his arms, wanting to offer the sympathy and compassion he knew she’d never accept from his words. She hesitated, tensing when he refused to acknowledge her body language and held on to her anyway. Slowly, in resistant increments, she eased into his embrace. Her breathing became audible and then she cried, aching sobs that seemed torn from her soul.
Rocking gently from side to side, he tightened his grip as her tears soaked into his shirt. Pressing his mouth to her temple in a gesture of comfort, he stroked one hand over the corn-silk strands of her hair. He’d been denying his attraction to her, knowing it wasn’t to be. But for the first time, he saw the vulnerable woman beneath her tough exterior, and it touched his heart in a way he couldn’t allow.
Stevie’s breath hitched and her crying subsided almost as quickly as it had begun. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to ignore the feel of her lean, athletic body against his. He wouldn’t think about the way her soft, full breasts flattened against his chest or her long legs pressed between his thighs.
It would be a huge mistake to kiss her. But it had been so long since he’d allowed any contact with a woman that his body responded instinctively. Shameless desire filled him, lengthened and thickened him. Before the possibility fully formed in his mind, Stevie tilted her head back and brushed her mouth over the tender bruise on his chin. His heart thudded in his chest and a searing urgency rushed though him. Then she turned her face until their lips met.
He leaned forward, trying not to think about what a mistake this was. It was easier than he expected because his mind focused on discovering that her sexy pout tasted as delicious as he’d imagined. The kiss was soft, gentle and slow, but an underlying expectancy was building between them.
Stevie’s mouth relaxed and parted beneath his, both inviting and daring him to deepen the kiss. Her skirt made a swishing sound as her hips swayed across his arousal. Her hands fisted in the material of his shirt, urging him closer. He wanted her, but he wouldn’t compound what was already a serious lack of judgment. No man with any honor would take advantage of a woman in an emotionally fragile state.