Something About You (16 page)

NAVIGATING HIS WAY through the dark, Jack led Cameron through the maze of people hanging out in the hallway. People who, unlike him, enjoyed the thrill of the power outage.

He needed a confined space, preferably one with a lock on the door.

Having no such luck on the second floor, he found a back staircase and led Cameron upstairs. The first door on the right was shut. He pushed it open and barged in.

The room was small. An office. A man and a scantily clad woman sprang apart at the desk.

“What the hell?” the man asked, half pissed, half startled.

“Who are you?” Jack demanded.

“The manager. Who the fuck are you?”

Jack gestured to the door. “Get out.”

“Screw that. This is my office.”

Jack gestured to the door, this time with his gun. “Get out.”

The manager’s mouth fell open and he nodded. “We’re going.” He grabbed the girl and hurried out.

Jack locked the deadbolt on the door behind them. He let go of Cameron’s hand so that he could check out the room. A small loveseat along the south wall, a steel file cabinet, and a desk with one rolling chair. No closets or other doors, but there was a large window that led out onto the fire escape. He tested the window and saw it rose easily enough. In case of an emergency, it would do.

Realizing that Cameron had fallen quiet, he headed over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” She paced around the room restlessly.

“Stay away from the door,” Jack told her. “And the windows. Stick to the center of the room.”

“Right. Sorry.” She moved quickly toward the desk, putting it between her and the door. She glanced down at her purse, then set it on the desk, as if wanting her hands free. “This is probably just a coincidence, right?”

“I’ll tell you that when I know it.”

In the moonlight, Jack saw her bite her lip anxiously. Then she put on a brave face and nodded. “Fair enough.”

Jack felt something pull at him.

“But if it makes you feel better, I don’t give a fuck what comes through that door. They’re not getting to you.”

She gazed at him through the dark, surprised. Turning away, he walked over to the door and listened.

Presumably following his lead, Cameron fell silent. The room was eerily quiet until the sound of his vibrating cell phone cut through the tension.

Jack grabbed the phone out of his pocket, saw it was Wilkins, and answered. “Talk to me.”

“We’re all clear.”

“What’d you find out?” he asked, not yet abandoning his post at the door.

“The power is out for the entire block,” Wilkins said. “I had our office patch me through to ComEd, who said they’ve got a power line down. They’ve got a team working on it as we speak.”

Jack strode over to the window, looked outside, and saw that the buildings around them were dark as well. He spoke into the phone in a low voice. “Any chance this is a setup?”

“Not likely. I talked to both the director in charge of the district and the foreman on site. It’s an underground power line—an overnight construction crew got sloppy trying to fix the water pipes to that church across the street and dug a little too deep. It’s just a coincidence, Jack.”

Through the window, Jack could see the construction crew outside the church and several ComEd trucks. He looked over at Cameron. Her eyes stayed with him as she listened to his end of the conversation. “Thanks. We’ll meet you back at the VIP room.”

“Where are you guys now?” Wilkins asked.

“In an office on the third floor. We should be down in just a few minutes.” He hung up the phone and holstered his gun. “We’re clear.”

Cameron exhaled. “Okay. Good. That was definitely not on the agenda for tonight.” She self-consciously smoothed her skirt and picked up her purse. “So we’re going to rejoin the others, then?”

“Yes.”

She headed toward the door and Jack followed her. She reached for the handle, then paused and looked over her shoulder. The sweater slipped off her shoulder once again.

“Thank you for—” She stopped. “What’s wrong?”

Jack stood behind her, staring at that damn gray strap. He caught himself wondering what was softer, the silk or her skin. If he was a smart man, he wouldn’t dare to even think about getting the answer to that.

He reached out to her anyway.

He took hold of her sweater and gently pulled it over her shoulder. He stopped when he reached the strap of her camisole. “This thing has been driving me crazy all night,” he murmured.

Cameron’s voice sounded a little shaky. “I . . . think I ruined it the last time I did laundry.”

The air hung thick between them.

“We should go,” Jack finally said. He needed to get out of that office before he did something he regretted. Something they both regretted.

She nodded, turned back, and unlocked the deadbolt. She grabbed the doorknob . . . then stopped.

Jack waited for her to open the door. When she didn’t, he reached around her, placing his hand over hers. “Cameron, we have to get out of here,” he said in a guttural voice.

“I know.”

Still, neither of them moved. Jack took his hand off hers and moved it to the deadbolt.

He knew he shouldn’t.

But he locked the door anyway.

He heard Cameron inhale unsteadily. Before he could give it a second thought, he brushed her long hair off her shoulder and bent his head to kiss her collarbone.

He got his answer. Silk didn’t hold a fucking candle to her skin.

WITH A SOFT moan, Cameron sank against Jack’s chest. She briefly wondered what she was doing, and why. Then she felt Jack’s lips burn a path along her neck and decided to table those issues for a moment.

His hands moved to her hips and she didn’t know if he spun her around or if she turned herself, maybe both, but suddenly she found herself facing him. She caught the hot glint in his eyes and reached for him just as his mouth came down on hers.

She expected Jack’s kiss to be hard, angry even, but instead it was just . . . wicked. He took his time, tasting her with his mouth, his lips, and his tongue. When his hand moved to the small of her back and pressed her closer, Cameron dropped her purse to the floor and threaded her fingers through his thick hair.

They slammed against the door.

Jack’s hand moved to her chin as his mouth explored hers roughly. Sensing his need for control but not yet willing to give it to him, Cameron cupped his face with her hands and slowed the kiss. Setting the pace, she teased him, biting gently at his bottom lip and sliding her tongue lightly along his. She did it again, playing with him, taking charge.

He growled low in his throat, then grabbed her hands and pinned them against the door.

Too late she recalled that Jack Pallas was not a man to be trifled with.

He wound his tongue around hers in a kiss that was rich and drugging. He settled between her thighs, and Cameron felt his hard, thick erection pressing into her. He could hide nearly every emotion behind that wall of his, but his body betrayed him right then, telling her the only thing she needed to know.

He wanted her.

Heady with that knowledge, Cameron closed her eyes as Jack blazed a trail with his mouth along her throat. The scruff of his jaw scratched against her neck, an erotic sensation that set every nerve of her body on fire.

“Jack,” she whispered.

“Tell me,” he said in her ear.

This was a new side of Jack. Gone was the guarded, controlled exterior. For once, she was seeing . . . him.

Cameron strained against him, helpless with her hands pinned in his. “Let me touch you.” She needed to see—feel—more of him.

He pulled back and let his eyes roam over her, soaking in every inch. He let go of her hands and watched as she pushed his blazer off. She slid her hands past his shoulder harness, feeling the taut muscles of his chest. She found it intoxicating, having such power and strength literally beneath her fingertips.

“This works both ways, baby,” Jack said in a husky voice.

He took her mouth in a kiss so demanding it left her breathless. His hands worked impatiently as he unbuttoned her sweater and pushed it off her shoulders.

“I need to see you,” he muttered against her mouth.

He pulled down the front of her camisole and the cup of her bra, and Cameron gasped as the cool air hit her exposed breast. He stroked her nipple between his fingers, toying with it until she trembled. When he cupped her breast and plumped it up for him, Cameron arched into his hand eagerly. Then he lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth.

Liquid heat coiled between her legs so fast she nearly sank to the floor right there. Jack slowly drew his tongue over the tight peak, first being gentle while he licked, then taking the rosy tip into his mouth hungrily. Meanwhile, his hand slid underneath her shirt and his fingers began to caress her other breast.

Cameron felt exposed yet also incredibly sensual. And while a voice inside her head told her that she needed to stop, another voice, a devilish one, told her to give in for once, to let go.

Jack pulled her camisole lower, his mouth on the hunt for her other breast. Cameron moaned, knowing which voice had just gained the upper hand.

Then a loud knock on the other side of the door startled them. Both she and Jack jumped.

They heard Amy’s voice. “Cameron? Are you in there?”

Cameron and Jack froze as the door handle turned at her hip.

Amy called through the door again. “Cameron? Are you all right?” She spoke to someone out in the hallway. “You said they were supposed to meet us back at the VIP room, right?”

Wilkins’s voice. “That’s what Jack said.”

“Try him on his cell phone again.”

Jack’s cell phone began to vibrate from the blazer Cameron had thrown onto the floor. She peered up at him. Something passed between them . . . then slipped away.

They unwound and separated. Jack grabbed his blazer off the ground to answer his phone. As he told Wilkins that they were fine and would be out momentarily, Cameron grabbed her purse off the floor and moved away from the door, pulling up the front of her camisole and adjusting her bra. She walked over to the window, grateful for the darkness that covered the awkwardness of the situation.

She was belting her sweater when Jack spoke from across the room.

“The strap of your shirt is torn,” he said softly.

“I know.” She tucked the strap inside her shirt, hoping the other one would hold. If not, Amy and Wilkins were going to get quite an eyeful. Her lips felt bruised and swollen, not that there was much she could do about that. She moved to the door.

“You’re ready?” Jack asked.

“Sure, I’m fine.” Actually, that wasn’t true, but with people waiting outside there wasn’t time to analyze her emotions. She knew it was the perfect time for a quip or a joke, anything that would get her feeling like herself again and bring her and Jack back to familiar ground. But she couldn’t do it right then. “We should get out there.”

Jack seemed to hesitate at first. Then he switched over to all-business mode and opened the door. She passed by him to step out into the hallway and for a fleeting second their eyes met—the only recognition of what had happened between them.

Amy waited in the shadowy hallway with Wilkins. They both looked confused at first, then amused.

Cameron tried to play it casual as she walked over. “We were waiting to make sure everything was safe.”

Amy pulled her to the side. “I was worried when the two of you didn’t show up downstairs.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Amy looked her over. “That’s a new way of wearing that shirt.”

Cameron glanced down and saw her exposed shoulder. Now missing one gray silk camisole strap.

She was going to burn the stupid sweater as soon as she got home.

Sixteen

CAMERON HEARD THE knock on her door and looked up from her computer. Rob Merrocko, an assistant U.S. attorney with the office next to hers, opened the door and poked his head in.

“How’d the arraignment go today?”

“He pled not guilty, as expected,” Cameron said. “That’ll change. A jury would convict this guy in all of about two seconds.” The defendant, a youth soccer coach from one of the northern suburbs, had been charged with receiving child pornography on his computer. If his lawyer had an ounce of sense in him, he’d never let the case go to trial.

It was an ugly case, and one of the few she found difficult to keep a cool head about. Just being in the same courtroom as the defendant had left her feeling disgusted and emotionally drained.

“Why do you still take these kinds of cases?” Rob asked her. “Pawn it off on one of the new guys.”

Not really her style of doing things, but Cameron managed a smile, appreciating the sympathy. “I’ll be all right.” She ran her hands through her hair tiredly and eased back in her chair. “How are things on your end?”

“I just indicted an alderman for bribery.”

“Nice,” Cameron said approvingly. “Let’s talk about that instead.”

For the next few minutes, they swapped caseload horror stories, gossiped about a particularly ill-tempered judge in their district, and discussed which law clerk they should assign the ignominious task of cleaning the trial prep room. They were interrupted by a call from Cameron’s secretary.

“Collin’s here to see you,” she said when Cameron answered. No last name was necessary; in the last four years, her secretary had become familiar with Collin’s frequent visits.

“Thanks, send him back.” She nodded at Rob, who waved good-bye on his way out. About twenty seconds later, he was replaced by Collin.

“You sounded terrible on the phone,” he said from the doorway, referring to the quick conversation they’d had about an hour ago. “I’m here to kidnap you.”

“I had a tough day in court.” Cameron checked her watch. “It’s four o’clock. I can’t leave work now. It would be . . . indecent.”

Collin laughed. “You’re running yourself ragged these days between work, Amy’s bachelorette party, and that other business we can’t talk about here. You need a break. Come on, counselor—I’ll treat you to a flight at 404 Wine Bar.”

It was tempting. Cameron eyed him knowingly. “You just finished a column, didn’t you?” She could always tell.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend quality time with my best friend when she’s had a rough day?” Collin asked innocently. “As for whether I also happened to be particularly insightful and witty while writing today, well, you’ll just have to see for yourself in tomorrow’s paper. It’ll be the big column about sports stuff under my picture.”

Cameron threw him a wry grin—very funny. Yet despite the pile of work she had stacked on her desk, and also despite the fact that she sensed that Collin was in another one of his god-among-men insufferable moods, she thought that a drink with her best friend didn’t sound like too bad of an idea right then.

So for the first time in her four years as a prosecutor, she shocked everyone in the office, including herself, by leaving early.