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Authors: Carmen Falcone,Michele de Winton

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BOOK: Red Hot Christmas
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      “Come.” He stood up, and in a blink, led her to a small suite.
 

      Once he closed the door though, she was the one who pushed him against the wall. He was mad, and perhaps she was too. Why would she be upset? Because she wanted to avenge her friend’s death as much as he wanted to solve the mystery to get it all behind them. When all this was sorted, they would go different ways. The chat with her at the security room had opened his eyes wider—Sydney wasn’t the rough girl she portrayed herself to be. She had a soft, warm side—which he adored, and because of it, he had to let her go.
 

      The sex was fantastic, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t offer her any more.
 

      She had been through too much already to end up with a guy like him.

      But now…he was too damn weak to resist her.
 

      Seductively, she stroked her tongue over his neck, and he threw his head back so hard, he knocked it against the wall. The sensation of her luscious flesh on his skin set a trail of excitement through him. His cock tightened against the confines of his boxers and jeans, and he wrapped his arms around her. But she had other plans.
 

      Oh yeah. She yanked his arms from her, and stepped back a couple steps. When he glanced back at her, she was removing her clothes. She was stripping for him, and it was all her idea.
 

      His heart flipped in his chest, and then it shot up his throat. When was the last time his pulse spiked that quickly? She wiggled out of her shirt, and cast him a glance that was filled with insecurity. And resolve.
 

      “You’re amazing.”
 

      She pointed at his pants. “You’re an easy audience.”

      “Whenever you are around, I’m just…easy.” He cleared his throat. There was an underlying meaning behind his words, it menaced his brain. Shaking his head, he decided to will it away.
Focus on here and now.
 

      With a chuckle, she tossed her bra to the side, and her breasts spilled free. He licked his lips, desperate to taste them. Perhaps his intentions were clear since the pink tips hardened. A powerful tingle skated down his spine.
 

      She removed her pants, shoved them to the side, and opened her arms in a grand gesture. “Thank you, Alejandro. I won’t ever forget you gave this back to me,” she said, her voice wavering. “Confidence.”
 

      An unfamiliar emotion welled up inside him, and he pushed past the doubt and swallowed hard. He was being selfish, and he knew it. As she let the scrape of silk slide down her smooth legs and hit the carpet, any feeble good intentions crushed like glass on tile.
 

      He closed the gap between them, and eased her down on the mattress. Why did it feel like he was the one taking?
 

Chapter 12

      “So you’re telling me you never tried eggnog before?” Sydney asked him.

      They had called Joe after the plane had landed in Chicago, without luck. Perhaps because it was Christmas Eve and the man was just busy? They went to a grocery store to buy the essentials, though the essentials ended up being a lot more items than planned. And a pre-cooked turkey.
 

      Who was she trying to kid? She cared for him, and although he had made it clear he wasn’t in for the long haul, she would enjoy the last moments they had to share. Even now, as they put the groceries away, a warmth she wasn’t used to snuck its way into her.
 

      Besides…being with him gave her that layer of protection she never had before and was getting used to. She hadn’t even been to her old apartment yet. Being in Chicago again meant not only their time together would come to an end, but also her attacker was still at large. A chill raced down her spine at the thought.
 

      “No. Not my thing.” He shook his head when she handed him the eggnog, like a child who didn’t want to swallow cold medicine.
 

      “How can you be sure unless you try it?” She lifted the small bottle to her mouth and took a sip.
 

      Alejandro tossed the paper towels on the counter top and erased the distance between them. “Maybe you are right.” He traced the corner of her lip where a bit of eggnog had slipped out. She was about to move and wipe her mouth, when he dipped his head and licked her lips.

      “Alejandro…” she whimpered.
 

      He took the drink from her hand and placed it on the counter, while her blood boiled with anticipation. She spread her legs apart and hooked them around his waist, and he intensified the kiss. For one moment, it seemed they were the same.
 

      The doorbell abruptly pulled them from their potential great kitchen sex. “At this time of night?” she whispered.

      He cursed under his breath, and she imagined he was evoking all kinds of images and thoughts to get rid of that delicious erection, as he walked to the front door.
 

“Mr. Soto?” said a deep male voice. “I am Detective Warner, and this is Detective Kolinsky with the Chicago Police Department. May we ask you some questions?”
 

      Any time she saw the police badge, her blood froze. She willed herself to move, and walk toward the three men. There was no way she would be an outsider. Not anymore. The instinct to bolt, to run from the police pounded in her veins, but she drew in a breath and resisted. Running was ridiculous. Nonsense. They were in Alejandro’s apartment. They wanted to talk to him—although, what if she got entangled in the story somehow? Her lungs tightened.
I already am.

      
“What is this regarding?” Alejandro asked, shoulders straight. He darted the stocky officer, Warner, one of those should-I-call-my-lawyer glances, which hinted at the truth she had to face: he had access to the country’s best lawyers if need be.
 

      As for her? Her stomach curled, and she pressed her palm against it, willing the nausea away. A cold shiver swept over her, the sensation of déjà vu too much too soon. No. Alejandro wasn’t anything like Mr. Phillips.
 

      “Joe Peterson,” said the other man.

      Alejandro stalked toward the living area and gestured for them to sit. “Come in.”
 

      Warner sat on the edge of a seat and took a small notepad from his pocket. Did people still use those?
 

      The other officer, Kolinsky, the one with the deep voice and higher stature, stood on his feet. He studied the place with his eyes, as if he could come to a conclusion within a few seconds. Was he profiling Alejandro?
 

      “Mr. Peterson was found dead in his office. His assistant told me he was working on a few cases, yours being one of them.”

A chill went through her, and her stomach curled. “Joe? Dead?” she repeated, and checked the balcony door, which was shut and locked. Why did it seem like the snowflakes from outside had found their way in, and a freezing sensation crept under her skin and was about to suffocate her?
 

      Kolinsky spared her sideways glance. “You must be Ms. Bell.”

      “Yes, and she’s with me.” Alejandro ate the space between them and stood next to her. Holding her hand in his, he gave it a light squeeze. She could kick herself for the warm current traveling though her. Short-lived reassurance. “How did he die?”

      Warner scratched his chin, tapped a pen on the notepad. “We are waiting on the results of the autopsy to be sure. He was found asphyxiated in his office. Did he ever seem depressed, or unhappy with his job?”

      “No. Never. In fact, I just talked to him yesterday. I called his cell today, but it was off,” Alejandro said.
 

      Kolinsky stepped toward them, and sighed. “We understand Mr. Peterson worked for you. Did he make a discovery about the deaths of Patty Berg or Frank Lewis that would make him a target?”
 

      “No,” Alejandro said. “Will you look into those two deaths?”

      “We have, but there’s no evidence they were linked.” Warren surged to his feet and walked around the room. “Can you think of anyone who would want him dead? Because of a secret he could expose?”
 

      “No.”
 

      No? His answer reverberated in her, and she was about to move but he squeezed her hand a tad harder, pinning her in place. The slick coolness of his palm was a telltale sign he was just as apprehensive as she was. That was the first time she noticed him sweating that didn’t include sex or hot weather. Why wouldn’t he mention his mother or his uncle?
 

“Okay. Please get in touch if you remember anything.” Warner handed him a card, but she barely registered that they were leaving. “Have a good day.”
 

He let go of her hand and swiftly closed the door behind the detectives. Moisture evaporated from her throat, words failed her. Although she stood, the back of her knees threatened to buck under the pressure of her rumbling emotions. Alejandro had had the chance to tell them the entire truth, and he had chosen instead to protect his betraying family. Of course.
 

“Why didn’t you tell them about what happened in Argentina, Alejandro? About your mother, and your uncle, and how she faked a break-in?”

He frowned. “I have to think and regroup. I was counting on telling my suspicions to Joe and handling it with him first. I didn’t want to expose everything to the police without being sure.”

“It’s not about exposing. They have the experience and resources to get to the bottom of this,” she said. She drew back after she heard the words spilling from her mouth. She, the police hater, was actually considering telling them the whole truth?
 

He shoved his hands in his hair. “Do they? They believe the deaths weren’t related. Perhaps they’re right,” he said, a pang of defiance flickering in his eyes.
 

She eyed the carry-on she had brought with her, which still sat by the door. Sure, there were a few personal items scattered in his bathroom, but that was about it. “Are you serious? We came this far for you to bail on me? Do you really think he would have killed himself?” She raised her voice, giving in to the frustration floating up her throat. “Joe?”
 

“Will you calm down?” he raised his voice, and she stilled. She was about to open her mouth, when he angled toward her, both hands up in surrender. “Listen, I’m sorry. There are a lot of strange things happening, Sydney. I just need to take a breather to think things over.”

She forced her legs to move, and took a step back. “The thing is, we can’t afford to take a breather. Not when everyone is dying,” she said, raising her voice.
 

“What do you want me to do? To mention my mother and uncle, who are in another country, simply because I’m mad that they had an affair? Because, let’s face it, they didn’t do it. Evandro was an idiot for getting blackmailed, and Madre tested my patience with the fake attack. But, to accuse them of murder?”
 

Typical. Things got complicated, and someone had killed Joe because he obviously had found out a dirty little secret. Yet Alejandro chose to believe otherwise, with that whole pointless excuse. When it came down to it, not only didn’t he believe in her…he sided with the wrong guys.
 

“You told me you would find Patty’s killer and my attacker no matter what,” she said, her voice strained. “I’m leaving.”
 

“What? Why?” He shook his head, disappointment crossed his face and hardened his features. A hot sensation spilled through her, but instead of enjoying that burn, like it was the case whenever they had sex…all she wanted was to extinguish herself from it. From him.
 

“There’s no sense in playing house with you, Alejandro. I was doing this for Patty. You clearly prefer protecting your family. You know what? You are a hypocrite. You were mad at your mom and uncle for using protecting as an excuse not to own up to their mistake. Well, haven’t you done the same? You took me to Buenos Aires and never told them a word about Frank’s death or me being attacked. Or his message.”
 

 
“I didn’t want them to worry for no reason. They are family. You wouldn’t—

“Understand?” she snarled. “Right. Maybe I didn’t grow up in a family environment, but I know one thing—I would never protect someone who may have hurt others. I’m done with you.”

“No.”
 

      She should have seen it coming. He took her into his arms, taking advantage of her parted lips to slip his tongue inside. A kiss like no other was in motion, and for a moment she let herself be thrilled. Currents of excitement surged at her nerve endings, and she gripped his shoulders for support. His tongue melded with hers, their mouths united as if there was no other way. Their bodies molded perfectly, every ridge of his welcoming and warm. She didn’t need to touch his cock to feel it pulsating with glorious arousal. It was obvious, the second her hands obeyed her brain and slid south of his chest, there would be no way back. Was that what she wanted? What she deserved?
 

BOOK: Red Hot Christmas
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