High Stakes Seduction (4 page)

He shouldn’t have engaged her in conversation and he knew Rogers was going to bust his balls about it. He’d used taking out the trash as a ruse to get a closer look. He hadn’t meant to say anything to her, much less rub her shoulders.

And dammit, he’d stared straight at her tits like a caveman. They’d perched ripe as summer peaches in the sling of her bikini top and her smooth, flat stomach…well,
hell!

Her long legs had been bent at the knees, drawn up slightly on the float. He’d been trained to observe everything so he didn’t miss the pearly pink nail polish on her toes or the gold ankle bracelet or the double diamond studs gracing her earlobes. Her golden-blond hair floating around pink shoulders in need of sunscreen…

Ah, those shoulders. His palms still tingled from touching her and he could smell her coconut-scented sunscreen on his skin.

Face it. She’d entranced him. Eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean. Lush, feminine thighs built for loving.

Tanned skin and full, glossy lips that he somehow knew would taste like plump California strawberries.

He shouldn’t have been lusting after her. It was wrong. It put his job in jeopardy. It worried Adam that he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He’d flirted with her, taken advantage of the situation, used potential sunburn as an excuse to touch her.

“What the hell was that all about?” Rogers launched in the minute the door closed behind Adam. “We’re not supposed to engage the target. Merely observe and report.”

“We’ve been doing that for four days and we’ve gotten nothing,” Adam hedged, scrambling to think of a good reason why he’d stopped to talk to Eva.

Rogers stared at him as if he’d sprouted a third eye in the middle of his forehead. “Since when have you not followed the rules to the letter?”

Adam frowned. “I want Barksdale caught, and sitting here on our hands doesn’t seem to be doing the trick. If I get to know her, maybe I can get her to talk about Barksdale and I can find out something NCIS didn’t when they interrogated her.”

“Hey, I agree with you. I’ve just never known you to take matters into your own hands. Why do you think they call you Kiss Ass Mancuso?”

“Who calls me that?” Adam asked sharply.

“Everyone.” Rogers wrinkled his nose. “You didn’t know?”

Irritation had him shoving his palm over his head. “Just because I believe in obeying orders doesn’t mean I’m a kiss ass.”

“You’re a workaholic.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”

“You never let your guard down with the guys. Even the few times you have gone out for drinks with us, you barely drink and you leave as soon as you can.”

“I am a naval intelligence officer. We’re held to a higher code. I don’t intend giving my enemies anything they can use against me.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t relax once in a while, chief. Act like one of the guys.”

That had been Kirsten’s complaint, as well. That he was too compulsive about work and didn’t know how to enjoy himself. Were Kirsten and Rogers right? Honestly, having free time on his hands made him anxious. The truth was, he feared that if he ever dropped his vigilance that the floodgates would open and he’d lose all control.

“That’s why I think it’s kinda cool that you’re ready to bend a few rules in order to nail Barksdale.”

Adam hadn’t said that. In fact, he hadn’t meant to bend rules. It had happened because he’d simply been unable to help himself and that scared the shit out of him. Eva St. George scared the shit out of him. He wanted to have sex with her and the promise of that pleasure lured him and that lure made him feel unbalanced. He’d given into temptation.

“You know,” Rogers said, “if you wanted to hang out at her yoga studio in the evenings, I could keep watch on the apartment while you’re gone. You could cozy up to her. See if you could get her to talk about Barksdale.”

Adam shook his head. “The brass wouldn’t approve.”

Rogers sank his hands on his hips. “How would they know?”

“They’ve got Kilgore taking yoga with Barksdale’s suspected contact.”

“That’s a morning class. You can take an evening class.”

It was tempting. Not just the part about catching Barksdale himself, but about spending time with Eva.

Watch it, you’re on shaky ground.

Temptation could ruin a man. He trusted Rogers as much as he trusted anyone, but Adam had a hard time putting his fate in someone else’s hands.

“Nah,” he said. “Let’s play this by the book.”

Rogers shrugged. “Your call.”

Adam glanced out the window and saw Eva climbing from the pool, her body glistening in the sunlight. His own body reacted. His dick hardened and his heart rate quickened. He was in trouble and he knew it. He’d never felt this out of control. One thing was for certain he was
not
going to her yoga studio.

No matter how much he might want to.

The door to Eva’s apartment opened and she stepped out onto the landing, wearing a thin terry cloth bathrobe that hit her midthigh. The pockets of the robe bulged out.

Hmm, where was she going in her bathrobe at five-thirty in the morning? And what did she have in her pockets? Immediately, he perked up and his mind went to the darkest possibility. Was she packing a gun?

Come on, how likely was that?

Still, he was on red alert, adrenaline humming through his bloodstream.

It wasn’t just her looks or her smoking-hot body that stirred him. The attraction he felt for her—and this was worrisome—extended far beyond the physical. She was funny and witty and spirited. All the things he was not and he admired her for it. The woman was high-energy, high-octane, high-stakes and these oddly respectful feelings he felt for her presented a problem.

She started down the stairs. Adam tracked her with the telescope, watched her cross the courtyard and head toward the walkway leading to his side of the complex. She disappeared from his view. What was she up to? He tensed, got up from the stool.

Footsteps sounded on his staircase.

She was coming to his apartment!

Panic seized him and he wondered why in the hell he was panicking.

Because she was coming to see him!

He couldn’t let her get a peek inside. Not with all the surveillance equipment aimed at her apartment.

Shit! He pulled a hand down his face. What was he going to do? He could pretend he wasn’t here but it was five-thirty in the morning and the Nissan Maxima Higgins had given him to use while he was on assignment was in his parking space and—

Her knock sounded at his door.

Maybe he ought to answer it. What if she was in trouble? What if Barksdale had threatened her?

She knocked again.

Adam rushed to the door, but only opened it a crack. He peered out at her with one eye. “Hey.”

“I’m sorry to wake you up—”

“I wasn’t asleep.” He opened the door just wide enough to slip out onto the landing with her.

Dew dampened the air. The sun nudged at the horizon. The complex lay quiet. Normally, he got up at 5:00 a.m. to go for his daily three-mile jog, but ever since he’d been spying on Eva, everything in his world had turned topsy-turvy.

She stared at his rumpled clothes, his beard stubble, and then glanced at the door. “Oh, my gosh, you’ve got an overnight visitor. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you. Go back to your guest.”

Eva turned to scurry away, but Adam reached out to snag her arm. The minute he touched her, he regretted it. Hot desire instantly flooded his system. “Hang on, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, really,” she said. “I don’t want to take you away from your company.”

“Who says I have company?”

“You didn’t invite me in for one thing.” She cast a roving glance over him. “And you look like you’ve been up all night.”

“I don’t have a woman in my apartment.”

“Oh, okay, if that’s the way you want to play it.”

“Why? Are you jealous?”

Her cheeks pinkened, telling him that yeah, she was and she wished she wasn’t. He felt flattered.

“No, of course not. I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous? I don’t even know you.”

“And yet here you are on my landing at five-thirty in the morning in your bathrobe.” Okay, he was officially acting like an arrogant ass, but it was only because she smelled so good and she was wearing a bathrobe and his surveillance equipment was only a door away and she was jealous and well, hell, she just made him nervous and he really didn’t know what to say to her so he said something utterly stupid.

“Forget it.” She held up both palms, backed off.

“That was a jerky thing to say.”

“It was.”

“I’m not usually a jerk.”

“I’ll reserve judgment until I know you better.”

“Does that mean you’ll give me a second chance?”

“Only because you’re so cute when you grovel. Apology accepted.”

He wouldn’t call it groveling, but he did need to find out why she’d come over. “Seriously, what can I do for you?”

Her gaze flicked downward, just for a microsecond, but she checked out his zipper. Had she seen that he was halfway hard already? He did his best to get himself under control, but it was a losing battle with her standing there smelling of fabric softener and peppermint toothpaste, the encroaching dawn casting orange fingers of light over her golden hair.

She cocked her head, touched her bottom lip with the tip of her index finger. “The hot water heater went out in my apartment and I was wondering if I might borrow your shower.”

“You want to borrow my shower?”

“That’s what I said, but if you have a woman in your apartment—”

“There’s no woman in my apartment,” he reiterated, even though the smart thing to do, from the point of view of his assignment was, yeah to let her think there was a woman in his apartment so she’d go away.

Except, he didn’t want her to go away. He wanted to throw the door wide-open and invite her inside. Of course, he couldn’t do that, wouldn’t do that but he wanted to.

“How about if I come over and take a look at your hot water heater?”

“I called the super. He’ll be over later today to check it out. I just need a quick shower to start the morning. I brought my own supplies.” She reached into the pockets of her robe, pulled shampoo from one pocket, conditioner from the other and looked pointedly over his shoulder at his door.

Adam’s hands were behind him, holding the knob, blocking her way. “Here’s the truth. I’m a pig. The place is a mess.”

“How bad can it be? You just moved in.”

“I’ve still got boxes stacked everywhere.” He couldn’t get the image of her standing naked in his shower out of his head.

“Look, if you don’t want me using your shower, just say so.”

“It’s not that,” he said, grasping at straws. “You’re right, I have company, but it’s not a woman. I have a friend staying with me. We partied. He’s passed out drunk.”

“So, I’ll tiptoe. I really need a shower, Adam.”

“I don’t…” He fisted his hands. He’d run out of excuses. Short of being rude and telling her to buzz off, he had nothing.

“Oh, I get it.” Her eyes widened and a sly grin curled her lips.

“Get what?”

“You don’t want your friend seeing me in my bathrobe.”

The minute she said it, he knew it was true. He didn’t want to risk Rogers waking up and seeing Eva in her bathrobe, dripping wet from her shower. “You got me.”

“Hmm,” she said.

Hmm?
What did that mean?

“You don’t have to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he lied. “My friend is a cave man.”

“Ah, so you’re trying to protect me?”

“Chivalry, that’s what I’m all about.”

“You’re an odd duck, Adam Mancuso.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “C’mon. Let me take a look at your hot water heater. I bet I can get it up and running.”

“You’re handy like that?”

He held up both hands. “Guilty as charged.”

“I’ve never known a guy who was very handy.”

“Well, now you do.” Even though he’d grown up privileged, his parents had insisted he learn as many practical skills as he could to make him a well-rounded person. In high school, he’d taken both building trades and Latin, automotive repair and physics.

She shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoed.

She stuck the shampoo and conditioner back into the pockets of her robe and turned to head down the stairs. He followed after her, his mind in free fall.

God, but she was amazing. The woman was self-possessed enough to saunter over to the new neighbor’s place in her bathrobe and ask to use his shower. She had an easy way about her, like a carefree daisy swaying in the breeze and a mass of gorgeous blond hair and sassy blue eyes that stared into his as if he was a crossword puzzle she couldn’t wait to solve.

Was it weird that he found that as compelling as her tight little rump bouncing with each step she took down the stairs?

He followed her over to her apartment, thinking that he would follow that sweet ass straight into hell if that’s where she led him. How had he gotten to this point, desire short-circuiting his brain
and
his code of ethics? Troubling.

Once inside her apartment, his military training took over. He scanned her place, taking it in with a cataloging glance.

Minimalistic Scandinavian furniture, numerous candles and an incense burner on the mantle of the gas fireplace, a bookcase loaded with books about exercise and nutrition (physical fitness, something they had in common), a beige jute rug over the flooring and two surfboards. One was a large, colorful old-style surfboard mounted on the wall that seemed to serve as a decorative shelf and the other, propped in the far corner, waxed and gleaming in the dusky sunlight that peeped through the partially open drapes.

The room felt as if it was a temporary skin. Something she’d yet to shed. He didn’t know where the impression came from. Maybe it didn’t come from Eva or the room at all, but from him. As if he were the one on the verge of something strange and new and waiting, just waiting, for the future to happen.

He shook his head, shook off the feeling. “You surf?” he asked, a topic bland and safe.

“Pretty much every other person in San Diego surfs. We
are
less than two miles from the beach. It’s why I live here.”

“Big-time hobby, huh?”

“Passion is more like it.”

Funny, that passion hadn’t made it to her dossier. “I thought yoga was your passion.”

She studied him a long moment, her eyes pinning him to the spot. He shifted, uneasy and that unexpected uneasiness rippled under his skin, hot and restless.

“I’m a woman of many passions,” she said evenly, but the corner of her eye twitched.

A tic?

Was she hiding something? Or was she slyly winking at him? Flirting?

He wasn’t adept at flirtation. It was a custom too light, too playful to suit him. Flirting opened the door to other things. Things he had no business thinking about.

Adam pressed his palms together, closing that door on his thoughts. “Take me to your hot water heater.”

“In there.” She waved him down the hallway, indicating a closed closet door.

He stepped by her, accidentally grazing her shoulder as he went past. Audibly she sucked in her breath. Was she as aware of the sparking between them as he was? Damn, but her hair smelled like a flower shop and there was that very shapely body that even a shapeless terry cloth robe couldn’t disguise. Bewitching.

His cock stiffened.

She’s your target. Stop thinking about her as a woman.

Yeah, that was like telling a spawning salmon not to swim upstream. It shocked him—this total lack of control. He hadn’t been this horny even as a teen.

He forced his mind off her and on to the hot water heater. He opened the closet door and peered in at the gas appliance.

“Can you fix it?” Eva asked, coming to peer over his shoulder.

Her breath was warm against his skin. She wasn’t touching him, but almost. An odd splitting sensation hit him squarely in the middle of his chest as if his very center was cracking wide-open.

“It’s just the pilot light,” he mumbled. “We’ll shut it down for a few minutes, let the gas disperse and relight it. All will be well.” With that reassurance, he closed the fuel line, the closet door and his unruly libido.