THE GUARDIAN (Taskforce Series) (22 page)

He positioned himself directly before the peephole. Hopefully she recognized him. In the dark, his skin tone could be a blessing or a curse, depending. Nor was she expecting him to show up at the back door. Why draw attention to himself by entering through the front wearing a fitted cap?  

At least he knew the rear room was secure. Toby had broken into Artie’s before dawn, nabbing the files
Lena
had denied downloading from her pendant—little liar. Sweeping the space for bugs and cameras, Toby had declared the space secure. But there was still a risk that
Lena
had replaced her pendant with another spy camera. Funny how that didn’t alarm
Jackson
the way it used to.

He could sense her gaze on him, affecting him like a heat rash, but she still didn’t open the door. “Let me in,” he whispered. If he was going to win her trust, they needed to be alone together
.

Lena
had wondered all day if Jackson Maddox would actually show up for his interview. Regarding him through the peep hole, she pressed a hand to her palpitating heart. Should she let him in, or not?  

Considering all the man had done to frustrate her efforts, he deserved to be left standing in the muggy night air. Except that every atrocious thing he’d done was meant to protect his undercover status. After all, he was a special agent of the freaking FBI, a fact that continued to astonish her, though Peter had divulged his news twenty-six hours ago. He wasn’t the ex-con she’d thought he was. Plus he kissed like a dream. So, how could she not let him in?

With a bracing breath,
Lena
pushed the door open.

“Hi,” he said. His gaze traveled with evident appreciation over her clingy black blouse and matching skirt to the scarlet-tipped toenails peeking out beneath the straps of her high heeled sandals. Her impractical footwear felt suddenly worthwhile.

“I’m surprised you kept your appointment.” He had even dressed up for it, she noticed, putting on his white shirt and gray slacks—for her? “I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with my book.”

Her comment elicited a snort. “Right. We need to talk. You mind if I come in?”

At his curt tone, she was tempted to slam the door shut in his face, but curiosity got the better of her. “Fine,” she acceded, admitting him into the cramped space.

The heat seemed to enter with him, and his scent, as he eased past her, gave rise to memories of Monday night’s kiss, weakening her. Through eyes that finally saw him for what he was, she watched him absorb the details of the storeroom as if he were taking snapshots with his mind. The cinderblock walls, cement flooring, and wall-to-wall refrigerators were all noted and summarily dismissed. His gaze lingered longer on the square table pushed into the corner under a low-wattage light bulb where two chairs faced each other cattycorner, and his lips thinned.

Was he picturing Muhammed or Jamal sitting so close to her that their knees practically touched? Or
Davis
?

Transferring his gaze to the monitors over the store’s computer, he noted the absence of customers in the building, crossed to the door that separated the store room from the front, and flipped the bolt. That simple action turned
Lena
’s palms moist. Just what did
Jackson
have in mind that they required total privacy?

He turned to look at her. “Did you replace the pendant?” he asked
.

Her resentment came surging back. “In forty-eight hours? I don’t think so. That mini-camcorder was a gift, by the way. It cost over two thousand dollars.”

“I’ll see that it’s returned one day,” he surprised her by promising earnestly. “Just answer me this:  are you filming me now?” 

“Of course not.”

He seemed to take her at her word because he nodded. “Good,” he said, visibly relaxing
.

Lena
tried taking control of the conversation. “Would you like a drink?” Her bracelets tinkled as she gestured to the refrigerators. “Something to eat?”

His gaze drifting over her had an effect similar to hot oil rolling down her body. “No, thank you. You look lovely,
Magdalena
.”

The way he said her name, with that faint Islander accent of his, made her weak in the knees. She cleared her throat
.
“Would you like to sit down?”

“Not particularly. Why haven’t you taken me up on my offer and left?” His blunt question ripped away the pretense that he was here for an interview
.

“How am I supposed to trust you without knowing anything about you?” she shot back. If he were just up front with her about his own identity, maybe then she could trust him in return
.

His jaw muscles jumped. “As much as I’d like to tell you everything about me, that’s not an option for me.” He took a step in her direction, notching her awareness of him higher. “But I can promise you that I’ll help you find the missing boy, the one who saw your sister get into
Davis
’s cruiser.”

“Curtis Vandaloo.” He seemed to know everything about Alexa’s murder. “Thank you, but I doubt you’ll have much luck. None of the PI’s I’ve hired were ever able to find him. His parents said he disappeared while neighbors swore he went to live with relatives in
Pennsylvania
. Personally I think
Davis
killed him to keep him from testifying.”

“And you’re going to cloister yourself in a room with a man who would do that?” One of his dark eyebrows edged above the other. “I have news for you,
Lena
.
Davis
isn’t going to confess with that deputy parked outside.” 

“Oh, so you did have a hand in that.” She tossed her head and sent him a bitter smile. “I thought you might have.”

“
Davis
knows cops can listen through walls because he used to be one,” he continued, ignoring her remark. “He’s not going to tell you anything.”  

“All true. But he’ll talk if the cop isn’t here,” she pointed out
.

“And how do you propose to get rid of him?”

She shrugged. “I’ll think of something. I usually do.” 

He briefly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m trying to tell you that you don’t have to. I know I haven’t told you everything about myself, but I need you to trust me. Please.”

Lena
swallowed back the confession that she already knew who he was.

“I swear I can help you,
Lena
. In two and a half weeks when this program is over, we’ll find the evidence together.”

His tone was so convincing, his aura so confident that she was tempted to dump
Davis
’s fate entirely into his capable hands. “How do I know you’re not just trying to get rid of me?”

His gaze slid to her lips and her pulse spiked. “Getting rid of you is actually the dead last thing on my mind right now,” he rasped. Her heart skipped a beat as he stepped abruptly closer, curling his hands about her upper arms. His palms, smooth but for a hint of calluses, gave rise to pleasant shivers as he lightly caressed her skin. “I meant what I said the other night. You’re a lovely and desirable woman. The thought of
Davis
hurting you disturbs me more than you realize.”

Enthralled with every word out of his mouth,
Lena
rolled up on her tiptoes and crushed her lips to his. He rewarded her initiative by hauling her against him and plunging his tongue between her parting lips, in a kiss that swamped her with longing. She found herself in a restless sea where white-capped waves of desire swelled higher as he severed their lips to suckle at her earlobe. Pleasure cascaded down her neck and over her shoulders, tightening her nipples into tingling buds that ached for his touch
.

Desperate for skin-to-skin contact, Lena tugged
Jackson
’s shirttails free of his slacks and funneled her hands beneath the cotton weave to luxuriate in the silky milk-chocolate texture of his skin. In a greedy quest to know him better, she explored the six-packs abs, his ribs, the thick flanks of muscle on either side of his back. It would take days, months, years, to memorize all the physical complexities of his body
.
  

He pressed his lips to hers again, nudging her longing higher with heady forays of his tongue. In addition to the promising sweep of his palms skimming the swells and curves of her body, she could feel him gathering the slinky material of her skirt into his hands. Cool air swirled about her knees thrilling her with the suggestion that he was in pursuit of more.

Is this really happening? Or am I dreaming again?
Either way, she would weep if he stopped. Thankfully, he seemed to intuit that, slipping a thigh between her bare knees and shifting his hands to her hips to rock her against him
.

Dear God
. The friction of his rock-hard quadriceps against her sensitive inner thighs made her arch toward him in desperate want. When he matched the massage to the strokes of his tongue, heat breached the surface of her skin. She moaned into his mouth and pressed her throbbing flesh against him as a signal of her need. Surely he could feel how wet she was becoming, how receptive
.

In unspoken agreement, they gravitated closer to the table. When it bumped against her thighs,
Lena
settled her weight back on it and guided his mouth to her aching breasts. “Please,” she whispered.

With a swift glance at the monitors,
Jackson
lowered his head over one of the twin peaks poking out the fabric and drew it into his mouth. An arrow of stark lust shot to
Lena
’s womb as he suckled the stiff bud diligently, his ravishment all the more arousing for the wet fabric between his mouth and her flesh. Arching her back, she encouraged him to continue and prayed he wouldn’t stop
.

“Let me see you,” he urged
.
  

The tantalizing request had her pulling her the blouse off over her head in one swift movement and unlatching her bra without a moment’s hesitancy. Nothing had ever felt more right that baring herself to him
.

His eyes resembled half-moons under his heavy eyelids. “You’re magnificent,” he declared, sliding the straps over her shoulders. With a hiss of appreciation, he cupped the full mounds that spilled free
.
“Christ,” he whispered.

Lena
slid back until her shoulders touched the wall. In his large hands, her D-cup breasts seemed the perfect size as he held them to his mouth, flicking his tongue alternately over both taut tips. Entranced, she absorbed the erotic vision of their bodies touching. There was no blending of tones between his skin and hers, just a stark contrast that excited her beyond bearing.

She didn’t care that she was sitting on a scarred, sturdy table in a musty store room. She had to have this man and she had to have him now.

“So soft,” he marveled moving one hand to trace the curve of her outer thigh, then the tops of her legs, and finally the paler, softer flesh higher up
.
  

Too tightly coiled to speak,
Lena
raised her hem to reveal the cream-colored lace panties that matched her bra. She had slipped them on that afternoon in a whim of fancy, wanting to feel sexy during
Jackson
’s interview, never dreaming that he would actually see them
.

A mask of desire tightened his features as she subtly spread her thighs
.