Lawless (8 page)

Another flash of lightning lit the sky,
followed by a huge, resounding boom that vibrated in her chest.  This time, only
two seconds separated them.  Fat droplets of rain splattered against the
covered porch, first one-by-one, but quickly the volume of singular sounds
increased, turning into one constant drum roll.

She jumped as streaks of white light filled the
sky, earth-shaking thunder hot on their tail.  The pounding on the roof
increased in intensity as raindrops morphed into small pebbles of hail and
began to bounce on the grass.  Her instincts warned her to seek shelter, but
she couldn't take her gaze off the fascinating light show.

"You should come in."

She jumped at the sound of Milo's voice and put a
hand to her chest.  "I think you just took five years off my life."

He grasped her hand.  "Come on.  It's getting
wild out here."

She let him lead her inside, missing his touch
when he released her to shut the door.  Just as he did, another thunderclap
shook the house.  "Damn.  That's some serious weather pounding out there. 
It hasn't hit this hard for years."

"Don't you love it?"

"Yeah.  Nothing like a good storm to liven
things up."  He smiled and walked out of the kitchen.

She followed him to the front of the house and
found him back in his chair, his book propped on his lap.  She could not spend
the rest of the evening cooped up in the house watching him read.  "We should
do something."

He flicked a quick glance at her but went back to
reading his book.

Getting his attention was a little like fishing. 
She needed some good bait.  A box of poker chips on the bottom of a bookcase
snagged her curiosity.  "Any good at five-card stud?"

The book sagged in his hands as he met her gaze.  "I've
been known to lay down a winning hand or two."  Just like a fish nibbling
on her line.  He sat straighter in his chair, and she knew she'd hooked him.  "Another
challenge?"

She arched a brow.  "Only if your ego can
handle losing."

"Oh, darlin', you don't know when to quit, do
you?"  He set his book aside and stood.

Excitement bubbled inside her.  This was far
better than landing a trout.  "What are you talking about?  I caught more
fish than you did today."

He walked toward her, stopping just inches from
her.  If he was trying to throw her off by his close proximity, she couldn't
deny it was a good tactic.  Already, her heart rate had nearly doubled, but she
wasn't about to let him get the upper hand.  Besides, the throb rushing through
her veins right now beat sitting in her room alone.  She tilted her face
upward.  "Well?"

"If we play, I'm not going to show you any
mercy."

She laughed.  "Oh, wow.  Pretty certain of
yourself, huh?"

"You're the one who invited me to play.  If
you don't think you can handle it, better back out now."

She pulled the poker chip case from the shelf and
pushed it to his chest.  "Not a chance."

His eyes sparkled with excitement, and she loved
that she'd brought about that reaction. 

Milo set up the game at the kitchen table, and Ariana
brought a bowl of leftover berries with her as she took the seat across from him.

She leaned forward on the table, watching his deft
fingers flip the cards.  "What should we play for?"

He shifted his gaze to her.  "What are you
prepared to lose?"

Her insides heated another notch.  She loved this
flirtatious side of him.  "Funny."

"How about whoever loses cooks dinner for the
week?"

She rolled her eyes.  "Bor-ring."  She
gave him a wicked smile.  "How about clothing?"

Both of his brows lifted in surprise.  "Strip
poker?  You're not serious."

"Dead serious.  Watching you cook my dinner
might be fun, but I think I'd rather see you stripped down to your boxers...or
briefs.  Whichever it may be."  Unless he wore neither.

"God, woman."  A laugh burst from his
chest.  "What makes you think you won't be the one flashing all the skin?"

She smiled, knowing he was only seconds from
agreeing.  "I guess the cards will decide.  The overall loser can cook
dinner, too."

He opened his mouth and then narrowed his eyes at
her.  "You and me half-naked could be dangerous.  One of us needs to
protect the integrity of our relationship.  Keep it professional."

"What makes you think our relationship will
lose its integrity just because you have your clothes off?"  She must be
crazy egging him on like this, but she couldn't help it.  "Are you
insinuating that clothing is the only thing keeping us from having carnal
knowledge of each other?"

"Are you insinuating it's not?"

She laughed, thoroughly enjoying herself.  "You
are pretty certain of yourself, Deputy Sykes.  All you need to do is take off
your clothes and women throw themselves at you, right?"  If he said yes,
she'd probably believe him.  He'd be a hard man to turn down.

"You're the one who said it, not me."

"Wow, you're cocky."  And far too
attractive for her good.  "Then let's add another bet on top of this one. 
I'll bet you can sit in front of me totally naked, and I can walk away.  You
can bet the same and protect your precious integrity.  Care to wager?"

Mischief lit his sexy eyes as he held out his hand
for her to shake.  She placed her hand in his.  Instead of shaking it, he
tugged her toward him.  She lifted out of her chair and met him halfway across
the table.  "You're going down," he whispered.

She laughed and pulled away.  "Deal the
cards, sucker."  She plopped a strawberry in her mouth and let it melt
against her tongue.

Milo shuffled the deck a few more times and
positioned it in front of her to cut the cards.  She did and slid the deck back
to him.  He placed his hand over hers on the deck, and she had to slide hers
from beneath him, the experience a seductive play of sensations that she was
sure he meant to happen.

That was okay.  Two could play this game.  Ultimately,
she would not lose.

A brilliant flash of lightning lit the room as they
anted up.  Milo placed a card face down in front of her and then one for him. 
She smiled as he dealt her the jack of diamonds face up.  Then he placed the eight
of clubs in front of him.  "Not looking too good for you," she
taunted.

"It's only one card, darlin'.  The game is
far from over."  He lifted the corner of his face-down card and smiled.

He was only goading her, trying to make her think
he had something good.  She was sure of it.  Or almost sure of it.  She peeked
at her card.  King of hearts.

A grin spread across her face as she looked at him.

"I'll start with two."  He tossed a
couple of chips in the middle of the table.

"I'll match your bet and raise you two." 
She slid four chips toward him.  He arched a brow.

He matched her bet and then flipped their next
cards.  Another king for her.  The five of spades for him.  She kept her
half-smile in place as she met his gaze.

"Your bet."

She slid two more chips into the pile, giving him
a playful smile.  "Ready to fold?"

"Hardly."  He added four more poker
chips to the center of the table and returned her grin.

She matched his bet, searching for a hint of
emotion in his expression.  He couldn't seriously think his hand beat hers.  At
this point, if she'd only held a five and an eight, she'd fold.  What was he
hiding?

He dealt two more cards, an eight for her and a
three for him.  She tossed down another bet, and once again he upped it.

"You're bluffing.  You haven't got anything." 
She matched it and added another four.

He tossed in more chips.  "You seem a little
worried to me.  Perhaps you should be."

"I don't think so."

The last round of cards gave him an eight and her
a jack.  Triumph flared inside her.  There was no way he could win now.  "You
think you've beat me," Milo said, a touch of laughter in his voice.  "I
can see it in your eyes."

"Perhaps."  Between their two hands,
three eights lay on the table.  The odds of him having another eight were off
the charts.  The best he could have would be two pair, and it would be hard to
beat the two pair she held.

He snorted.  "Did I mention I get to pick
which piece of clothing you lose first?" 

He looked so damn confident.  He had to be an
excellent bluffer.  Had to be.  She glanced at her cards again.

"Fifty."  She tossed her chips on the
pile.  "If you want to see what I've got, you'll have to pay."

He studied her, his startling blue eyes leaving
her anything but cool.  He slid a pile of chips into the center.  "Call."

She flipped her cards, pairing her kings and
jacks, giving him a smug grin.

She was surprised when his smile not only stayed
on his face, it grew larger.  She lowered her gaze, widening her eyes as he
turned over another eight.  "No way."

"Way."  He crooked his finger at her.  "Come
here, darlin'.  So I can have a better look at what you're wearing before I
decide what goes."

A shiver rushed through her.  "I don't think
so."

"Are you going to be a sore loser?"

"No, but there was no discussion beyond
removing clothing.  Nothing said about you inspecting me."

He called her again with a nod of his head.

"You know if you torture me now, it's going
to come back to haunt you when you lose."

"Maybe.  Maybe not.  Now get over here." 
A loud roll of thunder accentuated his words.

She grudgingly stood and walked toward him.  He
watched with heavy-lidded eyes, obviously enjoying her approach.  She stood in
front of him and jutted one hip to the side in a show of attitude.  "Do
your worst."

"Oh, I intend to."  He shifted in his
chair, eyeing her up and down, his gaze leaving a smoking trail down her body. 
"I'd really like to see you out of those pants, but since I've already had
that view, I think I'll go with the shirt first."

"What?"  She gave his arm a friendly
smack.  "I told you not to look."

"But I didn't agree."

"You are not an upstanding officer of the
law."

"Honey, I might be a lawman, but I'm still a
man."  He tugged on her shirt, looking up at her under raised brows.  "Off."

She exhaled a sigh of frustration.  He was good. 
Damn good.  There was nothing she loved more than a worthy opponent.  Well,
except a worthy opponent with
his
shirt off.

The first button on her cotton shirt offered no
resistance as she undid it.  The second quickly followed.

"Wait.  Slow down.  I want to enjoy this."

She lifted a brow, her internal temperature
shooting through the roof.  He wanted a show, did he?  Fine.  She'd give him
one that would make him regret his little professional relationship speech.  She
might have lost the first round of cards, but she'd be a fool to not take
advantage of her current opportunity.  "Whatever you say, deputy."

She stepped forward putting one of her thighs
between his, bringing her breasts just above his eye level.  She wasn't sure
where the hell she was going with this, but right now she didn't care.  She'd
spent so many months hiding from her father and essentially from life.  The
sparks between her and Milo were intense, addictive, and she couldn't stop.

She trailed her fingers down the gaping vee of her
shirt to the third button, his eyes widening with interest.  She popped the
button open, revealing a good expanse of her bra.

His smile grew bigger.  "Mmm…purple.  Sexy." 
He took hold of her hips as though he was afraid she'd bolt.

She removed his hands.  "Touching was not
part of the game."

His gaze jumped to hers and then narrowed.  "Touché."

She finished unbuttoning her shirt with agonizing
slowness, wondering if she was torturing him or her more.  When she finished,
she put her hands behind her back, tugging off her sleeves, and conveniently
thrusting her breasts forward.

The feel of his warm breath on her skin and the
dark desire burning in his eyes caused her to inhale sharply.

"Shit."  He stood so fast his chair
nearly toppled.  He backed away from her, his face a mixture of passion and
agony.  "I concede.  You win this round."  He headed for the back
door.  "I need some air."  The alluring smell of rain rushed in as he
walked out.

Just like that she stood in his kitchen, shirtless and
stunned.  "What the hell?" she muttered as she pushed her hands
through her sleeves and followed after him.  He couldn't walk away like that.

Milo strode out the door, continued past the porch,
stumbling to the center of the yard.  He lifted his face toward the heavens,
letting the blessed cool rain wash away some of the heat consuming his body. 
The back door slammed.  He knew she'd come outside, but he wasn't ready to face
her yet.

She shoved his arm, her anger evident as he turned
to her.  "What the hell was that?"

"Go away, Ariana."  He owed her an
explanation, but he wasn't sure he could explain the fiery ball of desire that
had overwhelmed him while the storm raged.  He'd thought their teasing might
have been a fun way to spend the evening, even though he knew he'd ignored many
policies the U.S. Marshals would have held him to.  But he wasn't in the
Marshals any longer, and they were both adults.

He'd been dead wrong.  He'd thought he could
handle himself with her?  Big joke.  Even now with her standing in the rain,
her shirt still unbuttoned, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to
pull her to the grass and make fierce love to her.

"No.  You need to talk to me.  One second we're
flirting and having fun, and then you bail with no explanation.  That's not
okay."

He gave her a chilly, don't-mess-with-me look.   He
was such a dumb ass.  How could he have forgotten what had happened the last
time he didn't follow the rules?  Yes, Ariana was the sexiest thing he'd come
across…maybe ever, but she wasn't his for the taking.  Intense chemistry between
them made the situation extremely volatile.  He had to remember she was only a
client, not the smartest and sexiest woman he could remember meeting.  His job
was to protect her life.  Her job was to stay alive to testify and then move on
to a permanent new identity.  He'd never see her again.  But she'd be alive.  "I've
already explained to you about maintaining the integrity of our relationship."