Slow Heat (14 page)

“Why would I tell him that?”

“Because you’re leaving with me and you’ll be calling him from my phone, which isn’t tapped.”

Her eyes grew wide, and her face noticeably paled. He thought she might turn and bolt on him. Just to be safe, he slinked his arm around her waist and lowered his face to the side of hers. Maggie’s hair smelled so good. Its soft silkiness immediately tortured his skin. Micah was acutely aware that this time she didn’t collapse against him as she had when he kissed her. Maggie’s body was stiff. She was confused and probably already wondered if he weren’t a thoughtless bastard. Which was good, very good. Let her hate him. It would make this all so much easier. Already he knew he couldn’t hate her. But if he let her see the monster that he was … what he wouldn’t do to prevent her from seeing that part of him.

“I’m the only one who can keep you out of jail, sweetheart. Do as I say. Talk to your brother, but immediately come back here,” he whispered into her ear.

It took him a moment to release her. But when he did, her expression was tight with her confusion, and the anger was back.

“Fine,” she said, her lips barely moving as she spoke. “But then you’re going to explain why you’re behaving this way.”

*   *   *

Micah didn’t think it would affect him as strongly as it did having Maggie on the back of his bike. She cuddled up against his back. At first her hands rested against his legs, but once he accelerated into traffic, she wrapped her arms around his waist. He would have preferred taking Maggie to his house. Being alone with her right now wouldn’t be a good idea, though. He knew her dress was hiked up to her thighs. Her pussy was pressed against his ass. He swore he felt her heat soaking through his jeans.

It was easier to tell he was being followed by staying off the interstate. It made their ride longer, but also allowed him to take turns, zigzag his way through the city, and confirm that the nondescript white Taurus was in fact tailing them.

Micah forced himself to focus on that and not the warm body snuggled against his backside. Maggie didn’t try talking to him, but rested the side of her face against his back. He couldn’t ignore what she was doing to him. Despite the attention he gave to the roads, making sure he didn’t get lost, keeping an eye on the Taurus he couldn’t shake, emotions were building inside him he hadn’t experienced before.

It was one thing to tell himself that it was normal to feel a strong urge to protect Maggie. After all, she came to him in need, entering his home and asking for his help getting out of a dire situation. Micah wasn’t sure that what he felt was normal, though. If someone else approached him asking for the same thing, he doubted he’d be experiencing the strong urges that he was now. More than likely he would have told them to go to hell.

It was probably because now he believed she was innocent. But after that kiss. Goddamn! What the hell had he been thinking?

At the time, making a show to the cops that Maggie was coming to him for personal reasons, not professional, sounded like a solid plan. He still agreed with his reasoning on that one. Micah had seriously thought he could kiss Maggie and not be affected by it.

That kiss had screwed up his equilibrium. It had taken everything he had to show Maggie it was a kiss for show, and nothing else. The way she’d reacted when he had looked indifferent afterward created a painful knot deep in his gut that still hadn’t gone away.

It would take nothing on his part to put his hand over hers, caress her soft skin, and let her know he wouldn’t let her down, or hurt her, in any way. It fucking sucked that he would be lying—to himself as well as to her.

If anyone knew how to be professional and keep emotions out of the job, it was him. And this was just another job. It was a hell of a lot easier killing someone than doing his damnedest to keep them alive and free. He reminded himself that he’d never taken the easy way before. The bigger the kill, the more he thrived from it. This case would be the same way—except Maggie would live.

Micah slowed and turned off Pacific Coast Highway onto a beachfront road and took it at twenty miles an hour, glancing to his right at a long stretch of beach full of sunbathers, kids running and playing, couples strolling hand in hand as well as vendors lined up in small shacks or under umbrellas selling food and tourist memorabilia. There were as many people splashing in the waves, swimming, and surfing. It was a busy, crowded beach. Perfect.

“Where are we going?” she asked, straightening behind him and letting her hands slide to his legs again.

“I’m looking for a place to park,” he told her, knowing it didn’t exactly answer her question.

“Why here? The pier is always packed.”

“It will be harder to overhear us with so much noise around us.”

She didn’t ask him to elaborate. Micah guessed she doubted he would. She was wrong, though. He had every intention of explaining why he’d driven here the way he had, and chosen this location for them to stop. Maggie had to know how to lose a tail.

It took a while to find a place to park. Several white Tauruses appeared, then disappeared in the parking lot; he wasn’t positive whether their friends were back or not.

Micah slipped off his bike then held his hand out to help Maggie get off. When she swung her leg over, he got a view of a white strip of cotton panties covering her pussy. Once again the hardening inside him grew to the point of distraction. His dick jerked to life and he ordered it to be still. Maggie wasn’t looking at him during his moment of internal torment but staring at the ground as she combed her hair out with her fingers.

“So why are we here again?” she asked once she was satisfied with her hair.

Micah loved how the color in her face gave her a vibrant look. Her dress was sleeveless, with a choker-style collar and a belt at her waist. The result was taut material over perky breasts. The blue dress flattered her complexion. It ended halfway down her thighs, and her bare legs were slender, not too muscular, and not very tan. He guessed she’d spent most of her time in that small office off the kitchen of that nightclub. She was absolutely perfect from head to toe. And that was with her clothes on. Micah had spent too much time since meeting her imagining her naked. He knew when he finally had her that way—and already he admitted to himself it would happen—Maggie would blow his mind.

Micah looked away from her. Damn! He’d do a piss-poor job of helping her if he couldn’t keep his mind off fucking her. It was so much easier killing and not knowing his target than keeping someone alive and getting to know them.

“I’ll explain soon. Let’s walk,” he told her, and took her hand then headed toward the beach.

She didn’t try pulling her hand free. “You didn’t answer my question.” She looked up at him, studying him with her pretty eyes and long lashes.

“You’re being followed, Maggie,” he began, and looked at her in time to see her mouth open.

“I know,” she said simply. “I’m followed wherever I go. I need you to make them stop following me. They think I know something that I don’t.”

When they reached the beach Micah guided them around sunbathers and children running and playing. Listening devices would have a hell of a time hearing them now.

“There were four cops at the address where you were going to meet that lawyer. Two were just inside the building and two were in a white Taurus. They knew where you were going. The cops entered the building seconds before you pulled into the parking lot. That’s a strong indication that your conversations are being monitored.”

“God,” she muttered, and looked around them, her blue eyes alert.

“Which is why I need you to trust me,” he stressed. “Me, and no one else.”

Maggie squinted when she looked up at him. She appeared to take what he said into consideration but didn’t comment. Instead she said, “You mentioned it would be harder to overhear us with so much noise around us.”

“It’s common to use audio equipment, usually a sensitive microphone, to hear a conversation taking place quite a ways away. All the activity would distort our voices, though; the mike would pick up all the noise around us, and make it harder for them to hear what we’re saying.”

“Hmm,” she said, nodding once.

He’d scared her but it had been necessary. Instinctively he squeezed her hand and stopped walking. When he faced her, the look she gave him as she stared up at him did something to his heart. Micah considered it more of a tightening of his chest. For a moment capturing his next breath seemed a chore. He studied her face and immediately needed to reassure her. Maggie stared up at him with an imploring, desperate look he didn’t like seeing on her pretty face.

“It’s going to be okay, Maggie.” He let go of her hand to stroke her face. It was a natural act, one he gave little thought to doing until it was already done. The moment her soft, creamy flesh seared his fingertips, he dropped his hand. “I’ve gathered some information and I’ll get this matter cleared up quickly.”

“Do you mean that? What information?” She hugged herself, looking away from him down the beach. “You make it hard to trust you,” she whispered.

He barely heard her; she’d muttered and wasn’t looking at him. But he knew she was doubting his character, which she was damn smart to do. Nonetheless, Micah wanted her trusting him. He wanted her knowing that he’d do anything to keep her safe. A small part of his brain told him to drop it. It was smarter for her to know he wasn’t capable of caring. That emotion in him had atrophied at a young age. It was a necessary evil in making him into the man he was today, capable of taking on any assignment and seeing it through to the satisfaction of whoever was paying him.

You didn’t take any money from Maggie.

“Maggie,” he said, his voice gruff. Micah grabbed her chin and turned her face upward to his. “Look at me.”

She blinked a few times, her thick dark lashes preventing him from seeing her dark eyes. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line.

“What?” she demanded, and flashed angry eyes at him. “Don’t tell me, everything will be fine, Micah Jones, unless you mean it. Deal? Don’t do anything unless it’s real. I’m not some stupid woman incapable of taking care of herself, or handling information unless it’s sugarcoated. Do you understand me?”

Maggie stood facing him, her hands crossed over her chest pressing her breasts together. Micah wisely avoided noticing how nice they looked under her blue dress. He studied her face, looking down at this spirited young woman. If she knew half of the truth about him she wouldn’t demand anything of him, let alone stand so close to him instructing him on how to behave.

Women like Maggie O’Malley belonged next to men with roots in their community, established jobs, and beautiful homes. Not with a man whose past had been changed so many times there were no roots. There wasn’t a community for him, and he doubted he’d ever have a home to call his own. It just wasn’t in his chemical makeup.

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled and caressed her chin with the edge of his thumb.

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” She backed out of his grip on her face, as if just realizing he still held her face. Then, turning as if she might march away from him, which he wouldn’t let her do, she walked a few paces before spinning around and coming at him with her finger pointed at his chest. “Why did you kiss me? You didn’t have to kiss me to make a distraction. If agents were watching us a simple hug would have created the same impression you said you wanted. You didn’t have to kiss me without even preparing me if you didn’t mean it.”

Maggie had just given him his out. She’d set the stage to keep their relationship at the working level instead of allowing it to head down a dangerous, spiraling path that would inevitably scar him and leave her battle-wounded. He’d be smart to take it and agree with her.

He didn’t battle with emotions. Micah knew pride when his father and uncle praised his work. He was happy when the three of them used to sit at their kitchen table at their house in Minnesota and strategize. Micah had recognized the need to protect his dad and uncle when he’d been set up with the dirty CIA agent. He guessed that was love although none of them ever used that word.

Micah didn’t love Maggie. They’d just met. He accepted that he didn’t understand the emotion as easily as he accepted that he would never experience the emotion. Therefore, he chalked up his next move as a reaction to a challenge. That was something he understood. Maggie had definitely just offered up a challenge. But as he looked down at Maggie, her perfect face and body housing a frown and scowl directed at him, he acted on instinct. Except this time his instinct sent him down a path he’d never been down before.

Micah grabbed Maggie, yanking her off her feet. She managed a yelp before Micah wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. He didn’t hold back. Micah’s unleashed desire overrode his ability to think.

The moment he tasted her he wanted to feast. Micah’s brain grew thick with fog as he pressed his tongue between her lips and devoured what he’d only had a taste of before.

To an extent, Maggie was right. When he’d kissed her in front of her brother, cops, and likely on tape for others to scrutinize later, it was meant to be an act. It was a bold statement for anyone messing with Maggie to see they would be messing with him, too. She’d called him on his act.

Always loving a good challenge, he was more than willing to show her that he didn’t do anything unless it was real. This was definitely a real kiss. When he gripped her ass, crumpling her dress in his hand as he lifted and pressed her against his dick, Maggie cried out into his mouth.

His brain, and body, fed on her emotional outburst. Micah would show Maggie that when he did something, he meant it. He dragged his other hand into her auburn, silky long hair and tangled it in his fingers. Keeping her positioned as he wanted her, Micah feasted. And the more he ate, the more he craved the meal.

Maggie tasted and smelled so wonderful, Micah never wanted to breathe air that didn’t hold her scent. He never wanted to touch anything without being able to touch Maggie. As he continued kissing her, the fog in his brain lifted just enough to allow him to hear his own thoughts. Instead of denying them, it dawned on him that he wanted Maggie to see him as a man worth wanting. She would never know about who he was minutes before he kissed her.