Breathless (10 page)

He shook his head. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Tawny. These things start so subtly it would be a miracle if you’d noticed. It’s a door held open for you, a glance held too long. The itchy feeling at the back of your neck when you’re walking to your car. Individually, it’s nothing. Put events together, it’s still nothing. Just a feeling.”

“Exactly. When I saw people come into the office all shaken up and weirded out, I’d think they were just paranoid. But after this last week or so, I’d be offended if someone thought the same about me.”

“Did something happen to you recently that changed things in your life? Win a lottery? Lose a job? Get a job? Drop a boyfriend?”

She recognized the questions. He often began a stalking investigation this way. “You believe me.”

He turned his head and the muscle in his jaw jumped. “You wouldn’t have called
me
if you weren’t scared. I’d be the last person you’d call.” She’d hurt him by running away the way she had. It was there, in his eyes. He’d missed her.

Her heart did a rhumba and a fine warmth stole up her back, but this was not the time to be distracted.

“I am scared. But, actually, you were the only person I wanted to call for help.” He blinked at that, then slid his eyes to the road ahead. “The cops will blow me off, and even though I’ve met a few of your competitors since we worked together, I think you’re the best at what you do.”

He turned to face her again. She saw smile lines bracket his mouth. She refused to look at his lips, they tempted her too much. “I appreciate your trust,” he said on a roughened note.

She pulled down the visor to get the notepad and pen he tucked up there. A picture fell out of the square of papers. It was her, at her desk, smiling and happy. She was mugging for the camera with her only claim to fame. “You’ve still got this?”

“You’re the only woman I know who can touch the tip of her nose with her tongue without crossing her eyes. I would never part with that evidence.” He changed lanes suddenly and took the freeway ramp. “Now jot down the answers to those questions.”

“Right.” She looked at the blank notepaper. “Six months ago, I got word that my Grandmother Loretta died. She was in a nursing home.”

“You inherit enough money for someone to want it?”

“No, she’d been there for a few years. There was only enough left to pay for her funeral. Which was kind of bawdy and raucous. Ever been to a former showgirl’s funeral?”

The corner of his lips twitched. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Retired strippers and barkers come out of the woodwork and relive their glory days. The stories out of Vegas forty or fifty years ago are enough to make a girl blush. Sin City doesn’t say the half of it.”

“I can imagine. They say there are bodies in the desert that’ll never be found.”

She shivered. “I bet there are.”

“Let’s get back to your answers. How did your grandmother’s death change your life? You said there was no inheritance to speak of.”

“It didn’t really change my life. It was just sad. I didn’t know her well. My mom, Pansy, moved us around a lot. But I wish I’d known Loretta better.” Mostly because Loretta’s mother had been the start of all the emotional dramas, the men, the messes. Loretta had been raised in a home with a succession of men trooping through, and she’d been marked by all of that. Then she married Frank LaMotta. Some of the things Pansy had told her about Loretta and Frank’s marriage was enough to curl hair. Tawny would have loved to get some advice on how to avoid what Loretta and, eventually, Pansy had fallen into.

Loretta had been in a loveless, violent marriage with a truly despicable man. Lust, jealousy, and a sick kind of hatred had ruined whatever decent relationship her grandparents might have had. Rumor had it Pansy’s father had been connected back in the day. Apparently, he was a Las Vegas henchman, a thug, and a serial philanderer. When Loretta’s looks had faded, he’d taken on multiple mistresses and flaunted them all. Some of the stories told at Loretta’s funeral should never have surfaced, but Tawny had put most of them down to faulty memories and senility.

As a teenager, Pansy had run off with the first biker who had crooked his finger at her. Ten years later, she and Tawny had been left behind at a truck stop south of Seattle.

Three months later, her first stepfather appeared. That one had married Pansy.

In an effort to avoid the same kind of life that the previous generations of James women had suffered, Tawny had shut down her feminine needs and shut men out of her life.

By twelve, she was taping down her breasts. By eighteen, she wore nothing but baggy sweats and loose jeans. Ugly, heavy shoes helped shorten the look of her legs, and a certain shade of yellow turned her complexion sallow.

“Okay, enough about your grandmother, I can’t see a reason for you being stalked out of all that. No lottery win, either?” Stack’s voice dissipated the old memories.

“And no job news,” she said. “When I quit working for you—”

“Ran away like a child, you mean,” he interrupted.

“When I quit my job with you, I was approached by several of your competitors. Some of them asked about your client list, wanted to know why you’re so successful and they’re not. It was disgusting. I had no idea Bill Forrester was such a whiny skunk.”

“Stinks out whatever room he’s in. But I’m glad you told me. He closed shop. Last I heard he moved to Boston.”

She made a good riddance sound in her throat. “I should have called you right away when he asked for the inside scoop on your client list, but I didn’t want to talk to you.”

She’d been afraid if she heard Stack’s voice, she’d have gone running back to him.

Even now, his velvet-covered rumble rolled down her spine like a massage wheel, easing her muscles, tending to her sore spots, soothing her. Making her wet.

He’d had this effect on her since day one. As much as she’d tried to resist him, he could charm her with nothing but a look.

She was one messed-up James.

If Loretta were alive, would she recognize this feeling? Would she tell Tawny how to make it stop?

T
awny jotted her notes on the other questions Stack had asked about her life in the past six months. No big changes. She worked in a cubicle in an insurance company now. Some of the insurance investigators were pretty good at their jobs, but none had the skill that Stack had.

None of them would dirty their hands or take time from their caseload to help her find out who was following her.

“It’s gross that someone’s pawing through my underwear. They don’t take anything, so I don’t understand it.”

“Not cutting the crotches out of your panties?” Stack asked as he pulled the Escalade into the parking lot of his new location. This one was in a nondescript strip mall that had seen better days. Literally.

“This place looked good for all of thirty days back in nineteen fifty-seven. You trying to restore the chi-chi element?”

“You always had a mouth,” he said. But it was only half a snarl. The other half was close to, but not quite, but may have been, one quarter of a chuckle.

Not bad considering his earlier surliness.

“No, my underwear’s intact. I don’t know if a thong counts as an actual crotch, though.”

His jaw jumped and he turned his head to face her squarely. He shoved his shades to just above his brows again. She could almost hear the tension pop in his neck as he forced his muscles to move. “TMI on that, Tawny. Too much information. I don’t need a visual of you in a thong.”

Time stopped. No breath stirred the air between them. His eyes burned like coals until she closed her eyes against the blaze of heat, want, and plain old lust that filled the vehicle, from both of them. But she couldn’t run from him this time. She didn’t have the strength. He’d worked his magic already. “I’m sorry I goaded you. I shouldn’t have, um, mentioned my thongs.”

His eyes flared hotter.

The need to be near him, the relief at seeing him after all this time had scrambled her brains. “I’m just stressed, scared, weirded out. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” His eyes burned through her clothes as he dropped his gaze to her belly, then up to her chest and settled on her eyes. “Unless you want me to act on what I still feel for you, shut the fuck up about whatever you’re wearing under that shapeless sack of shit you call a dress.”

She swallowed, but all the moisture was gone from her mouth and throat. “I’ll shut the fuck up.”

He grunted and climbed out, slamming his door behind him.

She sucked in a breath, then blew it out slowly. “Get a grip. Taunting the man is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

But a soft voice in her head disagreed.
Leaving him was the stupidest thing
…She figured the voice must belong to Loretta.

She followed him out into the cooling evening air. He pulled her laundry baskets out and set them on the pavement; then he reached in for her bike and trailer. “Thanks. Which one of these illustrious storefronts is yours?” She eyed the set of six rundown shops but didn’t see his sign.

“Second floor over the bakery, and my apartment’s directly above.”

In gold scroll letters, she read the sign on the window of his office: HAMILTON SECURITIES. “You realize the name of the company sounds like an investment firm.” She’d had to field a lot of comments about that.

“Since I offer different types of security, I pluralized the name. Besides, you know I don’t have to advertise.”

Stack had great word of mouth. His clients appreciated his discretion and professionalism, and sent their friends.

“What’s with the cowboy hat?” It looked great, especially with his black hair flying loose to his shoulders. She lifted her stuffed laundry baskets and followed him to the door wedged between a closed bakery and an open convenience store.

“A bar owner in Texas hired me. I needed to blend in.” He unlocked the door and stepped into the narrow hall. A set of stairs went straight up to the next floor. The foyer was too narrow for them to stand in at the same time.

“We’re not in Texas now,” she quipped, as she began the climb. He left the trailer at the foot of the stairs but carried the bike on one shoulder. She put some sway into her hips just for fun.

“I got back an hour ago,” he said. “I haven’t done anything but catch up on messages. When I got your call, I was waiting for another or I wouldn’t have answered. I’m dog tired.”

“And you like the look, admit it.” Normally he was in a suit, his hair tamed by a thong at his nape. She’d often wanted to see it loose but would never ask. She didn’t even know how silky it felt, and a stab of female pique made her shoot him a barbed comment. “The women must have loved it in that bar in Texas.”

“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t notice.”

She let out a huff.
Right.
As she climbed higher, the quiet warmth of the narrow staircase provided enough intimacy that her breath caught. She
wanted
to know the texture of his hair. She needed to know the temperature of his skin, the way his bristles would feel rasping down her belly. How his lips would feel, his mouth would taste. How hard he could get, and whether she could make him gasp. “It’s stuffy in here,” she said, wondering how in the world she would keep her hands to herself.

“Left here,” he said as she reached the first landing. She turned and faced the entrance to his office.

“Why did you move from the last place?” She looked inside for strength and came up empty. Her lower belly warmed in need and she licked her lips. One more floor and they’d be in his apartment.

“The downtown location was too public. My clients are happier driving out here where there’s less chance of anyone recognizing them.”

“Of course.” The truly wealthy didn’t live anywhere near here. This area was strictly middle class and hard working. The kind of neighborhood where both parents worked and the streets were quiet during the day. She shuffled out of his way to allow him to squeeze by her to open the door.

When he moved, his arm brushed her breast and she sucked in a breath. Her nipples pebbled and rose under her heavy denim jumper. He was right, she was wearing a piece-of-shit dress. One of her standard cover-ups.

He froze for a heartbeat when he heard her sudden breath. Then he smoothly unlocked the door and held it open for her. “The convenience store and bakery provide the cover of lots of cars coming and going. No one pays attention.”

She slipped inside, set down her baskets, and pulled her bike into the reception area while he dashed back down to get the trailer. In thirty seconds, he’d be back. She needed every tick of the clock to gather her wits and decide what to do about Stack Hamilton.

Stack settled behind his desk to finish with the rest of his waiting messages. If he didn’t deal with them right away, the whole mess would get worse and he’d be further behind. Tawny was in the outer office making a pot of coffee and clucking about all the dead plants. He’d told her when she started working with him to get some phony ones, but did she listen?

Listening to her putter and mutter about lazy-ass bosses who don’t water plants put a goofy grin on his face. While he’d been out picking up Tawny from the Wash ’n’ Suds, a completed file had come in from a freelance operative he used on occasion. “I need to handle a couple of urgent messages and some calls before I take you upstairs,” he called to her.

“Okay.” She leaned into his doorway and pouted. “You could get a cactus or two. You probably wouldn’t kill those.”

“Yeh, yeh. Would you like the key to my place? You don’t have to wait here.”

“If I leave you alone, you’ll work all day.” She disappeared again, doing whatever feminine thing she’d do to spruce things up.

He handled some calls, fielded questions from some of the guys in the field, and smelled the scent of Tawny’s coffee. He’d forgotten how bad her coffee tasted. No matter, he was glad she was willing to make it. She brought him in a mug and set it on the desk, well away from his keyboard.

He nodded his thanks and continued with his call.

Tawny wandered to the window to peer out to the parking lot. He noticed she moved the blind carefully and stood to the side. Smart girl, seeing but not being seen.

He opened the manila file folder on his desk and glanced at the top photo. A wayward wife going down on her girlfriend. His client suspected she was sleeping with his male partner. Poor bastard had no clue his wife swung this way. It wasn’t his partner his wife was cheating with, but his lawyer. Ugly business all around.

The image was first class. Clearly, the women were accomplished and comfortable lovers. The ecstasy on the girlfriend’s face wasn’t easy to fake. Hands clenched into the sheets that covered the hotel bed, legs spread open to receive her lover’s mouth and tongue.

The next photo was much the same, but her legs were pulled higher and this one zoomed in, clearly showing the client’s wife in profile. Her tongue was out in a spear and aimed directly at the open pussy. Her hand had moved between her own thighs.

Beside them on the bed, he saw what looked to be a strap-on dildo. He wondered which of them would wear it. Before he could find out, he heard Tawny gasp. She was good at reading upside down and he’d forgotten her skill. This image would be easy for her to make sense of from where she stood.

“Hot, isn’t it?” He wondered if the client would agree or be appalled. He couldn’t tell. The guy seemed too straitlaced to get off on the sight of his wife with another woman, but he’d seen stranger things.

Tawny’s cheeks went pink, but she nodded gamely. “I see business hasn’t changed much.”

“Human nature never does. When lust rears its head, people lose their minds.” He flipped the file closed and set it aside. “Just a couple more messages to deal with.”

“Drink your coffee, you look tired.”

He took a sip, covered his reaction well, and grinned his thanks.

The phone rang and he answered. This was the call he’d been waiting for. Tawny perked up at his tone and realized the call was important just by watching his reaction.

She waved to get his attention and slipped out of his office. Next, he heard the outer office door open and close, and her footsteps heading down. Damn it! She’d left the office and was going outside.

He ended the conversation abruptly with a quick apology and dropped the phone. By the time he stepped out onto the landing, he caught sight of the door at street level swinging closed.

Damn that woman, she knew better than to leave his protection. He’d been careful not to be followed, but he was tired and anyone could make a mistake.

He bounded down the stairs after her, wrenched the door open, and slid to a stop outside. The door to the convenience store was just closing. He stepped up and saw her through the glass, heading toward the back of the store.

His heart stopped just looking at her. Everything they’d ever shared rushed back. They’d laughed a lot in the office, had grown comfortable with each other, sometimes they could even finish the other’s sentences. Like now, with the message. She knew his body language so well that she’d left him alone to deal with his call. She read him like a book.

He still needed to handle the nervous client, but that could wait. His priority was keeping Tawny safe. He stepped into the store and she didn’t turn around to see who’d come in behind her. With a nod to the clerk, he moved silently down the aisle toward his quarry.

“I know it’s you,” she said without turning around. “Finished with your call already? I assumed you’d be on the phone a while.”

“How’d you know it was me?” he growled, ticked that she’d be cavalier about her safety. She knew better, damn it!

“There’s a mirror on the back wall. I saw you the moment you showed up glaring at me through the door.”

The crazy urge to grab her by the hips and wrap his arms around her nearly made him reach out, but he quelled the feeling. She wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, and she might go so far as to take off again.

To keep his itchy fingers occupied, he grabbed a pack of toilet paper and squeezed it. “What did you need from here?”

“Toiletries. A toothbrush and paste. Things like that.”

He nodded and squeezed harder. “Good, okay.”

She gave him the once-over, took in the mangled toilet paper, and grinned at him. “Take it easy, Stack. We’ll get through this.”

He grunted and trailed her through the store, toilet paper in hand.

“Convenience store prices on toothbrushes and paste are enough to gut a bank account,” she said when she picked up a tube of paste, put it back down, and reached for a bargain brand.

Ten minutes later, at the cashier’s counter, he shoved all her purchases into a white plastic bag with the store logo on the side, then dropped a twenty on the counter and ushered her outside.

“You didn’t have to pay for my things,” she hissed.

“I wanted to. You don’t know when you’ll be able to return to work.”

“The only time I’ve ever been broke is when I worked for you.”

Stunned, he froze with his hand on the open door. She gave him a saucy, humor-filled grin and slipped past him. “What are you saying? I’m cheap?”

“When it comes to paying me, you were. I make close to one third more now.”

He frowned and considered. “I had no idea. I would have paid you more if you’d asked. You were fantastic at your job.” He felt like a heel as he trudged behind her up the stairs to his office landing.

She stopped and turned to look down at him. His face was at breast level and his body felt energized at the thought. “You could have told me a time or two.” But her eyes still held the humor this conversation had started with.

“Rub salt in the wound, why don’t you? I feel bad about your salary, and now you’re saying I never told you how great you were at your job. I don’t know why you stayed with me for so long.”

“Don’t you?” She did an about-face and quickened her pace. He followed her bouncing ass to the landing.

“About those photos you saw earlier, you’re still under your agreement of confidentiality.”

She shook her head. “That agreement was null and void when I quit.” They’d reached his office door.