Get Lucky (33 page)

*   *   *

London should have called first. It was such a leap of faith for her, though. Marc said he loved her and he wanted to be with her. She’d stared at her parents just the other day, wishing them well and watching them walk out of her life, again. They were supposed to love her. People who loved each other weren’t supposed to leave each other. But Marc had let her go. She’d told herself again and again since coming home he hadn’t let her go, she’d pushed him away. It was in his eyes, in his expression when he stared down at her. The pain she’d seen wasn’t from the cut under his arm; it was from his heart breaking when she told him to go home and she would do the same.

Returning to work, trying to fit back into her busy schedule, proved impossible after only a couple days. London was forcing one foot in front of the other, pushing against a brick wall, trying to make her life work when half of her was missing. She wanted Marc. It would take sacrifice. It would be scary. But she’d pulled a trigger and lived through that; the fear of giving herself to him wouldn’t be half as bad as the happiness she knew would come with it.

She sat in her car, most of her possessions piled in behind her, and tapped her steering wheel with her fingertips, staring at the incredibly nice house on the beach. All she needed to do was get out of the car and go up to the door. There wasn’t any doubt she was at the right place. The KFA sign over a door at the side of the house, probably the business entrance, confirmed all suspicion she’d found Marc’s home.

Her cell phone rang and she jumped, then shook her head at her jitteriness. “You’re being silly,” she told herself, pulling her phone out of her purse and staring at the number. Her worries melted and she grinned when she answered. “Hello,” she said, a flush of nervous energy creating butterflies in her stomach.

“Where are you?” Marc bellowed into her ear, sounding mad.

She laughed, suddenly giddy. “Umm, well, actually, I’m outside,” she explained.

“What the hell do you mean, outside?” He sounded pissed.

Nerves spiked to life inside her and suddenly her palms were too damp. “I sent you away. I realize that now. But it wasn’t you; it was me. Anyone I’ve ever loved has taken off on me. They don’t even look back as they walk away.” She pictured her parents leaving her at Canyon Diablo and squeezed her eyes shut. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she kept going, knowing she needed to get this out and Marc had a right to hear it. “I know you won’t do that. I believe you love me. I love you, too. And I’m not so dysfunctional that I don’t believe everyone will do that to me.”

“London,” he said, his deep baritone sending shivers over her flesh. “Where are you?”

“I told you, I’m right outside.” She opened her eyes and shot furtive glances at the windows, the front door. No one was peering out of any of them and the door remained closed. “I’m here,” she explained.

“Where c is c here?” he asked, saying each word slowly, as if he were losing his patience.

“Look outside.” Her heart started thumping in her chest and she opened her car door, stepping out into the cool, salty-smelling air.

“I am outside,” he stressed.

“You are?” London swung around and shrugged out of her coat, then dropped it in the driver’s seat. “Where are you? I don’t see you,” she added, laughing.

“I’m standing in front of your house.”

London’s smile disappeared. She froze. “You’re where?” she whispered.

“Where exactly are you?” he demanded.

He sounded rather upset and she shouldn’t start laughing, but she did. Her nerves shattered inside her, making it impossible not to laugh. When the front door opened she spun around and grinned at the shocked expression on Marc’s father’s face. Then she laughed even harder.

“Where the hell are you?” Marc roared through the phone.

“You’re not going to believe this!” Greg called out, disappearing into the house and leaving the front door open.

“You’re not going to believe this,” she repeated, shaking her head as she started understanding what had happened. “Apparently you and I had the same idea at the same time.”

“Oh my God!” Haley clasped her hands over her mouth as she started out the front door behind her husband.

“London, I’m freezing my ass off.” Marc was losing his patience.

“I’m standing in front of your house,” London explained, staring at the amused expressions on Greg’s and Haley’s faces.

“You’re where?” Marc roared through the phone.

London bit her lip so as not to start laughing again when Greg slapped his leg and then threw his head back, letting out a roar of laughter. His wife joined in, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she walked up and placed her hand on London’s shoulder.

“I decided to come after you,” she confessed, lowering her voice and looking at the ground when Marc’s mother’s beaming expression became too much.

*   *   *

Marc walked along the beach, feeling extreme jet lag after flying out to Colorado, then racing back to the airport and catching the first available flight to L.A. When he learned London had packed up everything she could fit into her Jeep, quit her job, and told her landlord she was leaving, Marc had insisted she stay with his parents until he returned. He dropped his luggage on the floor the moment he entered the house, and began searching for London. As he left his backyard, staring at her as she hugged herself and faced the ocean, her beautiful long black hair flowing out behind her, Marc almost stumbled in awe.

Even in the dark, Marc saw her face light up when she saw him. London turned, starting toward him and breaking into a run as they drew nearer. Marc opened his arms, catching her when she leapt into them, and hugged her fiercely as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

“Call me next time before you leave,” he whispered into her hair, burying his face in her and breathing in her intoxicating scent.

She laughed, the melodic, happy sound making his heart swell.

“You better promise to do the same,” she said, lifting her face from his shoulder and then instigating their kiss.

London had come to him. He’d let her go, given in to her wishes, and she’d come running to him.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he swore, breaking off the kiss and staring down into her flushed expression. It was the look of pure happiness and satisfaction he’d tried so hard to make appear when they’d made love.

“You better promise that, too,” she said, her voice cracking.

London slid down his body but cuddled next to him when she turned her head to stare out at the ocean. “As many places as I’ve been in my life, this is the first time I’ve ever seen the ocean.”

“What do you think?” he asked, stroking her hair and admiring how the moonlight glowed against it.

“It looks dangerous and powerful, kind of like you,” she added, smiling up at him.

“I’ll never be a danger to you. I swear it, London.”

“I know.” She stretched against him, grabbing the sides of his head, and brought his mouth to hers for another kiss. “I love you, Marc King,” she whispered into his mouth. “I love you so much it scared the crap out of me.”

“Love is scary. But we’re going to experience it together.”

“I hope I’m not making a terrible mistake.” She frowned, pressing her hand against his chest and studying his face, her expression suddenly very serious. “Your family has an incredible reputation as bounty hunters. I saw how those detectives adored your dad in Flagstaff. My parents are famous crooks, and there might be times when that comes around to haunt us.”

Marc thought about the private investigator who’d harassed London about her parents. He dared the motherfucker to give London grief now.

“I have a feeling the ghosts who have crept into your life in the past will think twice before trying to do it now.” He didn’t like the worried look on her face. “Are you scared you won’t see your parents now that you’re with me?”

She laughed, shaking her head and making her hair float over her shoulders. “My parents chose not to be a part of my life many years ago.” She tried hiding the sadness in her tone when she shared this with him, but the trace of resentment couldn’t be missed. “I’m sure they’ll find out through the grapevine that I’m with you. All I can do is hope they are happy for me that I’ve found true love, if they even know what that is.”

“I hope you know what that is,” he whispered.

“I think I do. It’s knowing you can’t live without someone. It’s the most powerful feeling in the world. When you truly love someone you’re willing to go to all odds to be with him.” She cupped his face again, her soft smile melting his heart when she continued. “You’re willing to pick up a gun when you swore you’d never touch one. You’re willing to walk into danger to make sure he’s safe. And you’re willing to finally start living, knowing you’ve found your soul mate. I never thought I would get this lucky.”

He couldn’t believe it. London stood in his arms, her long black hair lifted by the evening breeze off the ocean, and explained to him all the emotions he’d been dealing with since leaving her in Arizona.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he told her, and kissed her, knowing he truly had found his soul mate. The daughter of crooks, a woman afraid to love, had stolen his heart, and he was so grateful she had.

“My mighty hunter,” she whispered against his mouth. “I’m so glad I hunted you down.”

Read on for an excerpt from Lorie O’ Clare’s next book

STAY HUNGRY

Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks

Jake glanced up from the couch when someone knocked gently on his hotel room door. She’d said half an hour but it had been forty-five minutes. Did Angela primp and prepare herself to come see him?

He stood, stretched, then tugged his shirt and smoothed it out as he headed to the door. Patting his gun, which he’d tucked into the back of his jeans, he leaned forward and looked through the peephole. He stared at Angela’s profile, distorted through the small circular glass. She looked both ways up and down the hallway as if the chance existed she might be followed. It was one of the negative aspects of their line of work: being more cautious than most.

He unlocked and turned the handle, then opened the hotel room door. Angela Torres stared up at him with defiant green eyes. Her long, thick black hair was damp and the light was reflected in it. He breathed in a hint of roses. Angela had showered and cleaned up before coming to see him. Something tightened inside him, and not just his dick. It wasn’t a familiar sensation, but he wasn’t staring at just another pretty lady. Something about Angela made her stand out, caused her beauty to be more unique and compelling, and created a radiant glow around her that worked like a magnet in drawing him to her. It also had the strength to keep her in his thoughts for a year.

Angela entered his suite without a word, managing not to touch him as she glided past him while he stood holding the door. She paused in the middle of his room and turned to face him, not bothering to check out her surroundings but instantly snaring him with a hot and determined stare.

“Come on in,” he drawled, taking his time closing the door and securing the dead bolt.

“What are you doing here, Jake?”

“Your dad didn’t tell you? He hired me. I’m your backup, darling,” he informed her and enjoyed the hell out of her stunned expression. He took advantage of her shock to move closer. “Your father flew out to L.A. and personally hired me to help you out with the game,” he added, lowering his voice as he studied her thick black hair.

It fell to the middle of her back and the sleeveless pink blouse she wore helped offset its color. Her tan skin, green eyes, and slender figure with curves in all the right places made her a vision of beauty. But the hard, focused glare she gave him, beaming with intelligence and her willful nature created an image of perfection he ached to know better—a lot better.

Angela didn’t balk when he stopped close enough to reach out and grab a strand of her hair.

“My father hired you?” She didn’t change her pose but continued staring at him, hands on her hips as she pressed her lips together in a thin line.

Jake let go of her hair and tried gripping her shoulders. Angela turned, walking to the window that faced the street below.

“Sit, Angela,” he suggested, pulling out the chair he was going to guide her into before she slipped out of his grasp. “Bring me up to speed on what you’ve been doing here.”

Angela wore blue jean shorts that hugged her tight, round ass and ended just as that perfect curve met leg. It was one of his favorite parts of a woman’s body, the tender flesh on the backside and inner thighs, right at the top of her legs. They were legs he bet would squeeze the life out of a man as she came. He might have to fuck her just so he could work with her. Just standing in the same room, watching her ass in those short shorts, was proving to be one hell of a distraction.

She turned, staring warily at the chair he’d pulled out from the desk. “You sit,” she instructed, her voice clipped. She continued flexing her hands into fists, then relaxing them.

Angela no longer looked him in the face. Her gaze would slip down his body, then as soon as he focused on her, she’d shoot her attention across the room. As if he wouldn’t notice her checking him out. Hell, he would know how closely she scrutinized him with his eyes closed. The charge of energy in the air hadn’t been there before she’d entered his suite.

Jake had guessed it when he’d captured her attention in the lobby. Neither of them had expected to see the other at that moment. What they got from each other wasn’t guarded, or covered up, but raw, unleashed carnal desire. Sexual tension between two people wasn’t usually so strong it charged the air between them at such a distance. Now, however, with not even a few paces between them, and the smell of her perfume and clean body wrapping around him and proving to be the strongest aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced, it was nice knowing he didn’t suffer alone. Angela was fighting to maintain control.

“I don’t mind sitting.” Jake relaxed in the chair, straightening his legs, as he crossed one socked foot over the other. He would put her at ease, although he seriously doubted he’d be able to relieve the sexual tension. Jake wasn’t a rapist, though. Not that she appeared overly worried about him attacking her without her consent. Angela wanted to fuck him.

“My father hired you to be my backup,” she muttered, uttering the words aloud more to make their meaning sink in than to ask a question. She sliced her hand through the air, finally meeting his gaze. “We can’t work together, Jake.”

He held her stare captive, probing into her milky green eyes, seeing emotions tumble over each other behind her mask of indifference. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why, but he wouldn’t insult her. The reason why was incredibly obvious. It was charging the entire damned room, and making his cock ache to stretch and swell.

“I think we can make it work.” He spoke slowly, still staring into her eyes.

When she inhaled, the bra underneath her sleeveless sweater pressed against her breasts. Her V-neck collar allowed a glimpse of her cleavage. He let his attention drop to the view. Her skin color was as appealing as the rest of her, tanned but not quite caramel. She wasn’t dressed to show off her features, but nonetheless they were easy to notice. It would be damn hard for Angela to be completely inconspicuous.

“We’ll see.” She took her time looking away from him. Angela wasn’t shy. Her straightforwardness was as appealing as her bedroom eyes and every last soft curve on her incredibly enticing body. “First things first.” She walked behind his chair, then came around him on the other side. “You said my dad sent you here. He hasn’t mentioned you to me. Tell me what he said to you, and what you think you’re going to be doing while you’re here.”

Jake dropped his attention to the slender curves that rounded into her narrow waist. “Bossy bitch,” he grumbled, and fought a smile when her jaw dropped.

“How dare you,” she hissed. “Good grief!” She threw her hands in the air and spun around, causing her thick long hair to fan across her back. “I knew it. This isn’t going to work. There’s no point in even trying. I’ll explain to my dad. I don’t need, or want, the type of backup you would offer. Someone lingering in the shadows, or available on cell if things get tricky, that would work. But I seriously doubt you’d be able to do that.”

“The type of backup I would offer?” Jake understood her meaning. “This is your show, sweetheart. I’ll do what you want.” And he’d protect her. Again, he wouldn’t insult her by stating the obvious. Angela knew he’d guard her with his life, as her dad had obviously known as well. He held his arms out, palms up, as he looked up at her, keeping his expression relaxed. “I’m offering my services. Use me as you see fit.”

“I know damn good and well what you’re offering,” she sneered.

Jake watched her, deciding he would let her form her own conclusions and not sway them with responses she would choose to believe, or not, no matter how truthful they might be. And the facts were, if she didn’t want to fuck him, he wouldn’t press the matter. That had never been his style. Jake knew women, though. Angela was making a scene to cover up her own desire. Raging need damn near burned her alive. He saw the flush slowly spread across her face as she shot him fiery glances.

“Are you going to deny you’re undressing me with your eyes?” She stopped in front of him, pressing her hands into her hips and glared at him.

If he stood, he’d be head and shoulders taller than Angela. She was already on the defensive and he wasn’t going to push her into a corner. So instead, checking his slight irritation, he stretched out his legs, forcing her to jump to the side so she wouldn’t trip over them.

“You say I’m hands-on. I’m sure you know all there is to know about me, darling.” He didn’t speak too slowly, kept his voice flat, and only stared at her face as he spoke. Already, from what he knew of this case, Angela needed him. Jake doubted even her father would have been her best backup. Possibly Huxtable had reasoned that one out, too. “According to your father, you were very aware of me, and my reputation, when we danced the night away in Tijuana.”

“I gave you critical information and you proceeded to blow all evidence to hell and back,” she accused.

“The FBI blew our evidence up, sweetheart. Our hands were rather tied with that matter.”

She stared at him, her expression remaining chilled and tense. “And if things get out of control here, would you call the FBI once again?”

Jake stood, forgetting his effort to help Angela relax. She tilted her head back, staring up at him when he spoke.

“If a madman who prefers his women doped up on slave juice captured you, put your life in serious danger, and I wasn’t able to get you out, you’re damn fucking straight I would call in whatever authorities can help.”

She searched his face, pressing her lips into an adorable pout before slowly looking down. Her gaze traveled down his chest and fire erupted inside him. She’d just pissed him off and he still wanted her. Angela might be right. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to work together.

“I heard your father was abducted in Mexico, but rumors suggest he allowed himself to be captured to get on the inside.” She began pacing the length of the hotel room, and continued shooting him hesitant looks. “That’s what I’ve done, Jake. I’m on the inside, but not at the risk of slave juice being stabbed into my arm.”

“Because you’re getting cozy with some Italian warlord, you think you’re exempt from his slave juice?” Jake was having more and more trouble keeping his emotions in check around her, which bugged him.

“I don’t know what you know about Mario Mandela, but let me tell you, he’s not an idiot. Right now, my cover is secure. Mario knows I’m high profile because of the circles he believes I move in. He is under the impression my schedule is very full and I’m often in the public eye. If I stray from my hectic schedule for even an hour, I would be missed. He won’t risk the game and all it means to him just for me. Women don’t mean that much to him. He is smart, though, and I’m covering my ass.”

“I’m going to help cover that ass of yours.” He didn’t smile this time and she didn’t appear as insulted with his crude comment.

When she tilted her head slightly and pierced him with those sexy eyes of her, several strands of hair fell over her shoulder and drifted across her arm and breast. “I’m not sure you’re the best man for the job,” she mused, her voice suddenly soft-spoken, gentle, as if she were contemplating something pleasant, instead of deciding if she could handle having him up close and personal without getting too close.

“Why would your father think otherwise?” he asked. His fingers itched to pet her thick black hair. It would be so smooth and silky. Her probing stare captivated him just as much as the rest of her did. When Angela met his gaze, staring hard and straight into his eyes, it was as if she saw past the surface and analyzed and discovered everything about him. As unnerving as the thought was that she might be able to see more of him than he wanted her to see, at the same time it was somehow erotic that Angela wanted to dig and learn more about him.

“I’m not sure.” Her hard lines of anger began fading. “Sounds like he and I need to talk about this.”

“Tell me about Mario.” He wanted her talking, opening up to him. They weren’t going to throw in the towel on this until they were sure as to whether they would work well together, or not. Already he thought they would make a good team. “How close have you gotten to him?”

“He took me shopping today.” She looked mighty proud of herself.

“You move fast, sweetheart,” he drawled. “When did you two meet for the first time?”

Her grin was wicked. “We met over the weekend at his private club I managed to get myself into, then seated myself conveniently under his nose.”

“Sounds like I missed the good stuff.”

“There isn’t any good stuff with this case,” she added quickly, her smile fading.

Angela had a point there.

“So tell me about Mario Mandela. What makes the man tick?”

“He’s an evil bastard.” She shivered and hugged herself, wrinkling her nose as she shook her head. “I’ve never been this close to someone so evil, so heartless, and so sure of himself that he is doing the right thing. He has no conscience.”

“He couldn’t to be part of the game.”

“Point taken,” she said easily, shaking her finger at him. “I have successfully bugged the back of his limosine.”

Jake was impressed. When she studied his face for a moment, then grinned, her expression lit up. “I’ve already got track running upstairs in my room,” she offered, looking really proud of herself.

“You’ve got the ball rolling beautifully, darling,” he praised her. “I’m seriously impressed.”

Angela must have realized she’d relaxed too much, was actually enjoying having a conversation with him, and apparently decided she wouldn’t allow her guard down even that far. That warm look disappeared and she pressed her lips together.