Stolen Seduction (9 page)

Three oversize glass windows gave full view of the resort’s fitness room. A series of exercise equipment that looked like they had never been used were lined up in front of the windows, facing the

opposite wall and a row of flat-screen TVs. But behind all that, what was suddenly making his pulse

pound was the woman dressed in nothing more than a pair of tight-fitting shorts and a black sports

bra, hands taped up like a prizefighter and curly blonde ponytail flying at her back as she pounded

the crap out of a punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

His throat grew thick as he watched. She didn’t stop dancing, barefoot on the blue mats beneath her

feet, or throwing punches in time to the heavy beat. And as the music pulsed and perspiration

dripped down her temple, he had a heady vision of her naked and sweaty, pounding him all night

long to the beat of that drum, not wasting her energy on that damn lucky punching bag.

The song came to an end, and she paused to catch her breath. Her creamy skin glistened under the

gym’s fluorescent lights. Her chest rose and fell, accentuating those perky breasts. And as his eyes

drifted lower, he got a full-on visual of toned abs and a body she kept in tip-top shape.

He swallowed hard. Remembered what she’d looked like in shorts and a tank back in Florida. He’d

thanked his lucky stars then he hadn’t seen her in a bikini, but now couldn’t stop visualizing that

body in something with strings and side ties he could loosen with his teeth.

As the music shifted from nice days to life on the docks and Hailey lifted her fists again to jab at the

bag, he pulled the gym’s main door open and stepped inside. Sweet female sweat and just a hint of

the lilac scent he always associated with her drifted toward his nose.

She didn’t stop punching. Left hook, left, right again. And his blood warmed the closer he got. It

wasn’t until he reached the stereo and hit the power button that she stopped abruptly and whipped

his way.

Surprise registered in her sapphire eyes first. Then distrust. And finally, disgust.

Okay, after their run-in earlier, he had that coming. But she’d purposely left him hanging, and he

wanted answers.

She didn’t say anything, but her chest rose and fell as she drew deep breaths. A bead of sweat rolled

down her bruised temple, over her jaw, down the long, slender column of neck, heading straight for

her breasts. Like an idiot, he watched the droplet, his body temperature growing hotter by the

minute as it slid downward.

And that’s when he saw the yellowing bruises. Faint traces of what she’d been through before. On

her ribs, on her thighs, on the soft skin of her arms. Near a bandage by her shoulder.

“How’d you get in here?” she asked, breathless.

He forced his gaze away from her fading injuries, told himself she was fine, healthy, that whatever

she’d endured, she’d survived. But the urge to coldcock whoever had done this to her was hard to

overcome. And Kauffman was seriously dead meat.

“Janitor.”

“Did you come to arrest me or are you just having trouble sleeping, Maxwell?”

Her voice pulled his brain away from exacting revenge, and he focused on her face. He wasn’t

about to tell her he didn’t sleep, not much anyway. And the look in her eyes warned him her work-out session hadn’t done much to cool her temper. “Should I arrest you?” he asked.

She glanced past him to the windows, then looked at his face again. “Who’s playing good cop

tonight?”

“No one. I’m here alone.”

One elegant brow lifted. “Inspector Clouseau know you’re going renegade?”

The muscles around his eyes tightened with humor. “No, he doesn’t. He’d tear into me if he did.”

“Then why are you here?”

“’Cause I’m not done with you yet.”

Her eyes never left his as she lifted her hand to mop up the sweat on her forehead. “I already told

you I’m not answering any more questions without my lawyer.”

“I’m not here officially, Hailey.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he added, “I saw the

surveillance tapes. Trust me when I say, you need a friend right now. And I may be all you’ve got.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“Answers. Unofficially,” he added before she could spout off anything else about her lawyer. “But

mostly to help you.”

Those blue eyes of hers searched his face, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her

mind. Along with a great big dose of I-don’t-think-so.

“You want answers?” she said. “Unofficial?”

He nodded slowly, thinking she was capitulating way too quickly, but thankful he wasn’t going to

have to pry it out of her.

“Fine. I’ll answer whatever question you’ve got. But you’ve got to take me down first. I take you

down, I get to ask the questions.”

She wanted to spar? With him? Here? Now? He glanced around the mats, back at her, slicked with

sweat, bruises not yet healed from her last run-in and juiced up on endorphins. Yeah, he wanted answers, but he wouldn’t hurt her to get them. “I don’t think that’s such a good—”

“Scared?”

The look of utter confidence across her face stopped him. “No, I just—”

She took a step back and held out her hands. “How bad do you want your answers, Maxwell?

Gimme your best shot.”

He wasn’t going to actually do this, was he?

The smug spark in her eye answered his question. Before he thought better of it, he was toeing off

his shoes and sliding out of his jacket.

“The gun, too,” she said as he tossed his coat on the counter along the far wall. “I don’t want you to

get shot again.”

He glanced back at her as he removed his shoulder harness and set his firearm on the counter as

well, refusing to rub the scar on his shoulder where he’d been shot three months before when he’d

gone looking for his sister in Florida. Hailey had been there then as well. In fact, if it weren’t for

Hailey, he might not have survived.

He remembered the panic in her voice when she’d found him left for dead, and the way she’d said

his name—the only time he ever remembered hearing her say his first name—how sweet and sexy it

had sounded on her lips. How he’d wanted to hear her say it again. But she hadn’t. Not when she’d

sat with him at the hospital telling him stupid jokes when he’d been getting stitched up or when

she’d kept him company on the way back to Florida. Even after they’d hung out and danced most of

the night at Lisa and Rafe’s wedding, weeks later, she hadn’t once called him by his first name

again.

Which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing. What would he have done if she had? Just because

she was the first person who’d made him feel something in almost a year, didn’t mean shit.

Except…he suddenly wanted to hear her say it. Needed to for reasons he couldn’t understand.

He walked back out on the mat, dressed in his jeans and T-shirt, watching as her eyes ran over him

from head to toe. His blood warmed under that heated look, and he told himself if she wanted to

play this game, he’d go along, but he wouldn’t hurt her. No answers were worth adding to her bruises.

“You’re looking a little overconfident there, Maxwell.”

“Only because I know you’ve got to be tired after your workout.”

Her eyes sparked. “I was only warming up. Show me what you’ve got.”

Neither of them moved. Just stared at each other. He felt like an idiot because he wasn’t about to

flip her to her back and pin her to the mat. When it was clear they were at a standoff, he stepped toward her. “Look, Hailey—”

She had her hand around his wrist before he even saw her move. She was quick, and her pressurepoint technique worked like a charm. As his wrist numbed and pain shot up his arm, she hooked her

arm under his elbow, twisted his wrist around his back and slammed him into the mat, face-first.

“That’s one for me,” she said, pressing his wrist into his back until his teeth knocked together from

the pain. “Why did you walk away from me in Puerto Rico?”

“I didn’t—”

“Nice try.” She twisted his wrist up until he slapped his free hand against the mat to keep from

screaming like a little girl.

“Alright! Goddammit. It was a crappy thing to do, okay?”

She let go of his wrist and stood quickly. “I know it was.”

He rolled to his back, wiggled his wrist to get the blood flowing again. Then sat up slowly and studied her across the mat.

Okay, this was a surprise. He’d known she was attracted to him, but he’d figured walking away

from her after the wedding instead of after he slept with her would spare her some angst. Obviously

he’d thought wrong. “I saved you from getting involved with me then. You should be thanking me

instead of being pissed about it.”

“I am. Get up and let’s go again.”

That good ol’ instinct of his said he should do what he’d done back then and walk away from her

now. But that irritating voice screaming, coward, forced him to his feet. And as he studied her carefully, he realized she’d led with her left. Come to think of it, when she’d been pounding the crap out

of that bag, she’d been using her left hand as well. “Hailey, I really just want to talk to you about

what happened at your cousin’s—”

“No talking. Give me your best move.”

He still wasn’t willing to fight her over this. He took a step forward to try to get her attention, and

again she moved so fast he barely tracked it. One minute she was facing him, the next she was up

close, her left arm sliding around his back, her torso twisting around and lowering so her hip hit him

just beneath his center of gravity. Then all he felt was air as she threw him over her hip and he hit

the mat with a resounding thud.

He groaned and rolled to his back. Okay, that one she hadn’t learned at the academy. And damn, she

was stronger than she looked.

“That’s two for me, Maxwell.” She braced her hands on her knees and leaned down toward him

with a self-satisfied expression. “Is that a habit of yours, going around leading women on, or are

you just a prick?”

“Leading women on? Is that what you think I did?”

“Two for two. I’d say that’s exactly what you do. I think you like the power of it. I think you like

seeing a woman get all worked up so you can drop her on her ass. Good fun, huh?”

Shit. “Hailey, I—”

“In case you forgot, I’m the one asking the questions. You’re the one getting your butt kicked.” She

stepped back. “Go again.”

His blood pulsed as he pushed to his feet. Okay, he’d been wrong. She was ticked about what had

happened in Puerto Rico and even more pissed about last night than he’d thought. Which meant only one thing—he’d gotten under her skin. Maybe as much as she’d gotten under his. That thought

cooled him out a little. But his adrenaline surged when she charged out of nowhere, grabbed him by

the shoulders, slid to the ground and kicked both legs out from under him.

He landed hard on his back, and this time saw stars. And oh, shit, there was something seriously

wrong with him because he liked this. Liked having her hands on his body and loved being hurt by

her.

She was on her feet before he could even catch his breath. But she was breathing hard. And she

wasn’t quite as solid as she tried to appear. “Go home, Maxwell. I’ve got better things to do than

toss you to the ground all night long. And as fun as this has been, I’m not interested anymore.”

She turned and got one step away before he kicked out, knocking her off balance. Her hands flew

out in surprise, but before she hit the mat he was up, twisting around so he was at her front, going

down with her so he took the brunt of the fall and she landed hard against his chest.

She immediately pushed off, but he rolled, pinning her beneath him. Her hands darted out, but he

easily grabbed them and shackled them over her head. Then he hooked his feet around her legs so

she couldn’t break free and kick him in the nuts as he stared down at her enraged face.

“Let me go,” she growled.

Each time she wiggled, it brought their hips into closer contact and sent more blood rushing to his

groin. “Not a chance. I think a pin counts for three.”

“Go to hell.”

“I will. But not today. Question one. Are you sleeping with Billy Sullivan?”

“What?”

“I’m the one asking right now. You’re answering. Yes or no.”

She glared up at him. Struggled. Realized she was stuck. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Is that your second question?”

No way. “Did Sullivan hit you?”

“No.”

“Who did?”

Her jaw clenched. “Some prick in the elevator at my father’s building in Miami. Wanted to send me

a message to back off.”

“Back off what?”

“Running the company. Everyone wants me to sign over my interest so they can get rid of me.”

“Including your cousin?”

She stared at him long and hard, and he saw then why she hadn’t wanted to answer his questions.

No matter how she did, it was only going to make her look more guilty. “Yes.”

“One more question—”

She struggled against his hold again. ‘I’ve answered way more than three already—”

“—if you aren’t sleeping with Sullivan, who are you sleeping with?”

Her eyes flared. “That’s none of CPD’s goddamn business!”

He tightened his grip on her hands. “You’re right. It’s mine. Who?”

“No one!”

“Good.”

He lowered and took her mouth before she could close her lips. He wasn’t tender or sweet or gentle

like he’d been in his apartment. Instead he took exactly what he wanted, demanding and bruising in