Hunted (12 page)

Desire flared to life in his eyes, and this time when his mouth curved up on one side it was with amusement. “How the hell did you go through a divorce and come out the other side like this?” He nodded at her, his gaze raking over the length of her body and back up, leaving tingles in its wake.

“You mean my fondness for Victorian Goth?”

The smile grew, both sides of his mouth lifting now. “No. I mean, how did you come through it and still be so…alive.”

Alive.
The word resonated inside her. He’d just expressed exactly what he felt was missing inside him and she wasn’t even sure that he realized it. She considered her response. “I guess I decided at the start of it all that I wasn’t going to let it change who I was. And it sounds like my divorce was much more civilized than yours, so that helped.” No epic battles or physical confrontations or calling the cops.

She paused to consider her next words, wondering how to explain it. “I’ve known exactly who I am since middle school, and I wasn’t going to let my ex or anyone else change me. No matter how many snide or hurtful comments he made toward the end of our marriage about the way I dressed or a million other things about my personality that he hated, I stayed true to who I was.

“It took me a long time to see how his negative comments and neglect was affecting me, and to recognize it for what it was. Abuse. That’s when I knew I had to get out. I vowed then and there that I’d be a better person after, that I’d live life to the fullest and not be afraid to give my heart again.”

She knew that Clay was afraid to open himself up to that kind of pain again, and she didn’t blame him one bit. “Even though the thought of being emotionally vulnerable to anyone again is scary, I know that not every guy is like Mark. Just like not every woman is the same as Eve. And if I closed myself off from everyone to protect myself against the threat of ever being hurt that way again, then I let him beat me. And God knows, I hate to lose,” she added wryly.

Clay gazed back at her in silence for a long, intense moment before nodding once, the gesture loaded with respect. “I think that’s amazingly brave, but it doesn’t surprise me that you came through it so well. You’re strong. One of the strongest people I’ve ever known, actually.”

Her cheeks heated at the compliment, especially coming from a man who’d made it through hell to become a SEAL. Feeling awkward, she waved his praise away. “You might want to take a look in the mirror sometime, then.”

He snorted. “Physical strength has nothing to do with it. You’re half my size, but you just managed to make me look like a pussy with that speech.”

She laughed and turned back to the bed to straighten a corner that didn’t need fixing, calling herself a hypocrite. Being turned down by him earlier made her want to step back and protect herself from him now. Didn’t that go against everything she’d just said? “Well, I already told you how I see you, and it’s pretty heroic, so just think about that the next time you’re giving yourself a mental beating.”

He didn’t respond and when she turned back to him she saw that he was standing inside her room. The expression on his face tangled her into knots because it was so unguarded. She could clearly see the admiration for her in his eyes, the longing to reach for what he wanted.

But despite her brave speech about not being afraid to open up her heart to another man after her divorce, she had a feeling that Clay could inflict far more damage to her heart than Mark ever had. And worse, he’d do it without even trying. He’d just said as much.

No. If he wanted anything more than friendship from her, he’d have to make the next move.

“So you’ll take my bed?” she asked, needing some space now.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, and again she saw that quiet respect in his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Sleep tight, then. See you in the morning.”

As she started to walk past him he stopped her with a hand on her upper arm. Zoe froze, braced herself and looked up into his eyes, her pulse thudding in her throat.

Staring down at her, Clay lifted a hand and gently stroked a fingertip over the bruise on her cheek. “Sleep well, raven.”

The unique endearment, meant just for her, his unexpected touch, blindsided her. When he lowered his hand she managed to walk past him and out into the hall to shut the door behind her. As soon as it closed she bowed her head and closed her eyes, battling for strength.

Sleep well? Not a chance, with him stretched out in her bed and her lying in the next room. She’d be lucky if she got any sleep at all tonight.

****

Carlos jerked awake when his cell phone shrilled from the nightstand. Sitting up in his empty bed, he grabbed it, pushing down the surge of excitement and hope when he saw it was Gill. “Hey. You find something?”

“Got a name for that number you wanted. Zoe Renard. Lived in Mid-City and is now in the Quarter.”

The name wasn’t familiar to him. Leticia had never mentioned anyone named Zoe before. A new friend maybe? “What’s she do?”

“I’m not sure what she does now, but she was a practicing lawyer until a little over a year ago. Goth chick. I’ll send you a picture.”

Carlos’s muscles went rigid at the first part. “What kind of lawyer?”

“Family. She went to Tulane, then worked at a firm up in Shreveport.”

That bitch.
That bitch was giving Leticia legal advice, probably had been the one to tell her to leave him.

He grabbed the phone records again, counted the number of calls to and from Zoe in the past month. Thirteen times.

Alarm bells started going off in his head. The calls had started right around the time when things had gotten really rocky between him and Leticia, when she’d suddenly grown a backbone and fought him at every turn. He’d initially thought Leticia was just suffering from a case of cold feet but now he wondered if this Zoe had influenced her. Maybe fed her some bullshit story about how Leticia could do better, how she should get out and never go back. The paper crunched in his fingers as his hand curled into a fist.

“Where in the Quarter is she?” It was only a little after one in the morning. He had plenty of time to act on this.

“Um, I didn’t look. I’ll have to get back to you.”

“Forget it. I’ll find her myself.” He disconnected and immediately called another contact, this one through the agency.

“I’m in the middle of a job. Got a suspect I’m looking at and I need an address. I know it’s late, but can you help me out?”

“I wouldn’t do it for just anyone, but for you, sure,” the woman said, the invitation clear in her voice.

Carlos smiled. “Thanks, you’re a doll.”

“I know.” The clicking of keys on the other end told him she was already working her magic on the keyboard, looking in the agency database. “You in town?”

He wanted to lie but she’d likely trace his call once they hung up. “Yeah.”

“Maybe we could meet up next week. Been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“Sure, sounds good.” He’d fucked her for information before, and he’d fuck her again if it helped him find Leticia. But the whole time he had her under him, instead of blond hair and blue eyes, he’d imagine Leticia’s thick, honey-streaked, deep brown hair, sea green eyes and flawless, pale-brown skin.

“Okay, got the address.” As she recited it he mentally zeroed in on the exact spot in his mind. He knew the Quarter by heart, practically every inch of it. He knew
exactly
where Zoe Renard lived.

And he was going there to get answers.

Clay opened his eyes in the darkness and lay still, trying to discern the sound that had woken him. Not from a deep sleep, since he’d only been dozing off and on for the past few hours. Kinda tough to sleep with a hard-on that refused to go away because his subconscious wouldn’t let him forget that the woman he wanted so much he could hardly think straight was sleeping in the next room.

Out in the street below he heard a street sweeper working. Inside, there was the occasional quiet groan of old pipes. Then came quiet footsteps in the hall, just beyond his door, heading in the opposite direction. A moment later he heard a soft snick and then a slider opening.

He sat up and dragged his jeans on over his boxer briefs. Silence greeted him when he stepped out into the hallway, broken only by the tick of a clock somewhere in the family room and the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. His bare feet were silent on the wood floors. Beyond the sliding door that led to the patio, he could see Zoe’s silhouette illuminated by the glow of her laptop screen.

He was glad he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep, but seeing her working out there, he had to wonder what she was typing. The idea that it might be another one of those insanely hot sex scenes he’d read before made his erection so hard it hurt. Standing back from the slider, hidden in shadow, he watched her fingers fly over the keyboard.

He’d thought a lot about what she’d said earlier. About how she’d refused to let her ex win and had consciously chosen
not
to close herself off.

He’d done the exact opposite and that’s why he’d meant it when he’d said that Zoe was one of the strongest people he’d ever known. And that comment about not every woman being like Eve had resonated with him too.

Zoe was Eve’s opposite in every way. Edgy and dark compared to his ex-wife’s sugary blonde appearance. Strong and grounded compared to the deep-rooted insecurity he hadn’t recognized in Eve until they were married. The signs had been there, he’d just chosen not to pay attention. Zoe was loyal and kind-hearted compared to Eve’s narcissistic and conniving ways.

The woman had dropped everything and gone off to meet a woman in need in the middle of the night, would have gone off on her own with only a can of pepper spray to defend herself, and right after she’d witnessed a mugging. That was something so far out of Eve’s comprehension, it was laughable.

So yeah, maybe it was time he pulled his head out of his ass and admit that Zoe was nothing like Eve. That she was nothing like any woman he’d ever met. He couldn’t deny he had growing feelings for her, even if he didn’t want to name them yet. The pull he felt toward her was powerful, undeniable. And each minute he spent in her company, he only wanted her more.

Zoe shifted the laptop and swung around on the daybed so that her profile was to him. This time the glow from the screen gave him a perfect view of her face. Was her cheek still hurting? Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing something shiny and purple, some kind of robe. His fingers curled into his palms as he imagined tugging the halves of it apart to finally see what he’d been fantasizing about for so long.

In that moment the reasons he’d given for keeping his distance seemed insignificant. Yeah she was Tuck’s cousin, but Clay respected her and her decisions, so if she still wanted him, why the hell should he say no? They both wanted each other, they were both consenting adults, and they were alone for the rest of the night.

He wanted to kiss her so badly, touch her naked body and stroke her until she trembled, make her cry out his name. He was dying to find out if she’d like the rough edges of his sexuality that he’d never let anyone see. Clay wanted Zoe to
see
him. The real him, nothing held back. His gut told him they’d be explosive together in bed, in the best way possible.

Handling explosives was one of his specialties.

Decision made, he crossed to the slider and gripped the handle. Zoe’s head jerked up when he began to slide it open. She shut the laptop and set it aside as he stepped out. It only took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, broken by the faint glow of a streetlamp across from her building. Now he heard the quiet sounds of jazz floating from down the block, people talking as they passed by on the sidewalk beneath her balcony.

“Couldn’t sleep, or did I wake you up?” she whispered, scooting aside to make room for him.

Clay lowered himself onto the daybed beside her, momentarily distracted when the hem of the robe rode up her thighs as she bent her legs and tucked her feet beneath her.
Can’t sleep because I want to be buried inside you.

“What are you doing working at this time of night?” he asked instead, reaching out to tuck a lock of silky hair behind her ear. His fingers slid through the strands in a caress far gentler than he was feeling at the moment, when all he wanted was to pin her flat on this bed and devour her, inch by inch. Another scene from one of her books popped into his head. The one where the hero had surprised the heroine from behind one night, pinning her down and taking her right there out on the lawn, where anyone might see them.

The balcony wasn’t a lawn, but the scene was hot and gave him ideas. Zoe pinned beneath him on the daybed, naked and wet for him, fighting to stay quiet while he made her come. He was rock hard at the thought.

Zoe stilled at the contact and stared at him questioningly. Thunder rolled faintly in the distance, the air suddenly feeling heavier. “Couldn’t sleep, and I like working in the middle of the night anyway. It’s quiet, the moon’s out and there’s something magical and sensual about sitting out here creating worlds and characters while jazz music floats up from down the street.”

There was something magical and sensual going on here, yeah, but it had nothing to do with the city or its music.

He let his fingertips trail along the side of her face, careful of her bruised cheek as he lowered his hand. Her skin was so soft, just touching her like that made him hard all over. He caught her quiet indrawn breath, noted the way her nipples hardened against the satiny fabric of the robe and knew she was naked underneath.

Clay looked up into her eyes, saw the pupils expand in the faint lamplight. In the sudden stillness, the air around them seemed to crackle with latent energy.

Clay gripped the edge of the quilt she’d spread onto the bed to keep from touching her again. “Tell me no, Zoe.” His voice was deeper than normal, raspy, but he couldn’t control it any more than he could the desire streaking through him.